#pirate x siren au

[mysticmiav]

It's mermay time to bring this chilumi back😌💙

[strscrossed]

https://www.tumblr.com/strscrossed/769826792138850304/pirate-mika-pretend-as-a-guy-all-bc-of-snippet?source=share

Idk if this is part of a poll but this one or siren!

honestly sirenkasa would be so!!!

although tbh pirate eren x sirenkasa would just be me writing some smut for the hell of it

[gravegoer]

MORE SEVIKA X SIREN I BEG

I hear your call [P2] ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ

HALF OF MY INBOX IS SIREN READER !! dw, i got you guys. ( also i got a lot of love in my inbox. !! thank you so much for the support. youre so sweet , im looking at 🍃 anon ily ) summary: sevika saves your scales.

masterlist , part 1 2.1k words part 3

The night after you met Sevika, you followed her ship, even throughout the darkness. The celebratory crew could be heard on the deck, along with the clanking of glasses and music.

Although this wasn't what you were interested in, you were interested in a certain captain. You assumed she didn't bother with the celebration and got bored swimming alongside the ship.

Eventually, it had come to a stop in the late night, now sitting in the dock of a well-populated island. You eyed the people that stepped off, and your gaze landed on Sevika.

She was hard to miss, her large stature and intricate outfit stood out amongst the crew, ultimately declaring herself captain. There was a sort of swagger in her walk, perhaps from booze or maybe exaustion.

Whatever the case, you were interested.

You couldn't get too close to land, deciding to lurk around the harbor instead. You ducked under the water upon hearing any movement or voices. Being this close to population was no place for a siren, especially such as yourself.

Any fisherman or pirate alike would take take you up and pawn you for a pretty price. So you heeded in your movements. Luckily, you were a skilled enough swimmer that you made little to no sound whilst in the water, barely leaving behind a ripple.

The sun was just now rising, and you assumed Sevika would be looking for a place to stay the night. There was no way you could wait around that long for her to come back. But that doesn't mean you didn't want to.

To your delight, a group of men swarmed to talk on a dock near you, and their conversation was full of exactly what you wanted to hear.

Sevika.

They were pirates looking for a crew, and from the looks of them, quite experienced pirates.

"She's headed to Shank's motel. Shall we give her a visit?"

"This late at night, man. You've got to be spewin' some blige. She'd flog you just at sight."

"Aye. Migh' as well wait till' morn' "

You grew closer to their spot, itching to hear more. Your head nearly bumped against the old wood due to your closeness.

Suddenly, a hand was in your hair, but unlike Sevika's, it was clammy and gross.

You screeched at the intrusion, being pulled out of the water.

A fourth man.

How could you let your guard down so easily?

"Now, what's a stupid lass like you doin' so far out at bay."

You crained your head up to be met with a severely shredded bald man. You clawed at the hand on your scalp and thrashed. The sting threatened to bring tears to your eyes, and you opened your mouth for a song.

The knowing man slammed your face down onto the wood, stopping you in your tracks.

"Fuck. This one be a siren, but the harder the catch, the more the prize is what I say."

Another voice came from your left.

"Knock 'er out, and I'll grab a net."

A blunt thwack was heard before your vision went dark.

..

Sevika had tied her boat to a post before leaving her crew to find a place to eat, preferably not a bar where she knew the rest of her men were headed. Having enough to drink, she sat at a stand selling calaloo and threw a few dabloons on the counter silently, waiting for her meal.

Her mind wasn't on anything except for you. The ruler of the Seven Seas was enamored with a mer-person.

How fitting.

She thought about the way your eyes sparkled when she told you stories, looking at her like no other. How your cold hands were so gentle when you touched her. Your soft lips against hers.

I mean, how much deeper could she fall.

Having been so engrossed in thought, she barely noticed the whispers around her. Barely. She, of course, was the talk of the town.

She intimidated people just by taking a seat next to them, so casual yet making everyone at the stand turn to glance at her. It wasn't often that Sevika bothered with mundane tasks such as eating anywhere but a bar, and nobody really saw her face anywhere except for wanted posters.

Although it was a picaroon town, and there was no way anyone there would bother to turn her in or snitch, she still pushed her plate away and got up to fend off the prying eyes. (Picaroon means pirate)

Her buckled boots thudded against the dirt road, now on the way to the nearest inn. She was almost desperate for a nights sleep without rocking on the mad waters.

Upon entering, a large man stomped past her, eager to get somewhere, she was just about to grab him and slam him into the nearest counter before her attention was interrupted.

"Them chowder-headed fools caught themselves a real jem, aye?"

"Heard theys' puttin' 'er up for auction"

That was never a pretty thing to hear. It either meant low-life pirates snagged themselves an expensive treasure, or worse, a living treasure. But it wasn't rare that a fisher or pirate just so happened to find a large, human-like fish in their net and put her on the market, so Sevika paid it no mind.

She did linger on the fact that it might be the one person on her mind at the moment but quickly shook away those thoughts. You were smart, quick. Theres no way any man would have you that easily.

When she approached the counter for a key, the shop-keep laughed, "What? You want a room? I think you ought to pay the stands a visit, its the first auction in a week."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at his words, her head dipping into her previous thoughts again.

I guess it wouldn't hurt to make sure.

So she drug her tired and heavy legs right back across town for the sliver of a chance that it might be you.

..

You awoke with a harsh throbbing in your head, feeling cold and dried up. Through blurry vision, you could make out the steel bars, closing you in. And a loud voice,

"Another bid for 300 dabloons !"

Fuck. It's what you've been dreading all your life. You got caught due to your lack of awareness and clumsiness. Inwardly cursing at yourself, you grabbed at the bars and shook violently.

"Look, she's awake. How do we feel about upping the price now that we can see her pretty eyes."

The man stuck his fingers in your enclosure and tilted your chin up. At that moment, you became aware of the metallic muzzle on your face, keeping your jaw in place. You glared up at him, knowing you'd bite him if you could.

He pulled away when you jerked your head forward, as if making the motion to bite him. He laughed loudly, and another bid came from the crowd.

"500!"

The men yelled and whooped at that. You thunked your head against the bars, the loudness ringing in your ears. You can't believe you got yourself in this mess for a pirate.

It was just hollering and laughing for a while before the man beside you spoke,

"500, Aye? Going once.. going twice.."

"A thousand."

A heavy female voice stood out amongst the rest, sounding angry and tired. Your eyes darted around, looking for the source of the voice, but another shrill voice spoke up.

"1000? Is this woman kidding? 1500."

The men's laughs roared in again, smacking the mans back and slinging booze. A tall figure stepped out of the shadow, cigarillo in hand, and spoke, "Double it."

All went quiet as they eyed Sevika, her arm crossed over her chest as she brought a mechanical hand to her lips to take a drag. She blew the smoke from the side of her mouth, making a taller male cough.

Your eyes widened, and fingers gripped the bars steadier. When you made eyecontact, you could have sworn her eyes went soft for a moment before she looked to your captor.

"Well.. any final bids..?"

He spoke seemingly frightened and pleased with himself all in one moment.

Nobody spoke against Sevika, as a captian never had a bounty over their head for a reason. And her bounty was hefty.

There were no protests as she pushed her way through the crowd, seemingly more violent than usual. She put her cigar out on someone's forehead, the small tiss, standing out against silence.

Her boots clunked as she ascended the stairs and plopped three brown bags atop your cage. You looked up at her, but she wasn't looking back. Her metal hand was grabbing the key from the mans hand and pushing him backward in one motion.

He stumbled, but you looked away to eye Sevikas human hand swiftly unlocking the cage. She held her hand out to you, dark hair shadowed her eyes, and hid her expression from you.

She was who you were here for.

You hesitantly grabbed her calloused hand, and immediately, she lifted you into her arms. Now, looking into the crowd, her menacing expression was highlighted by the dim torches that surround the stands. Her cape was draped over your tail and bare torso, shielding you from the cold, and more importantly the people.

As she was stepping down the stairs, she saw your muzzled mouth, and her expression got a tinge darker. No words needed to be spoken as she balanced you with her human arm and knee, tearing the straps of the muzzle off with a sharp finger.

It was almost instinct to hum a siren song, but before your vocal chords could start, you saw her expression and buried your face in her sturdy torso. It was the look of warning, a warning that you obeyed.

Pirates gawked at the sight of her carrying you past the crowd of people. Nobody dared to reach out and touch you. Some people didn't even dare to look at you. You kept your gaze on Sevika's clenched jaw and torn expression. The angles of her face were more prominent at this angle, you would blush at the sight but your nervousness didn't allow it.

Her grip on your tail was firm, yet gentle, human arm cradling your torso without complaining about the coldness. You weren't one to be drawn to the warmth of a human, but found yourself pressed closer against her body. You now shut your eyes to rid of the feeling of stares and judgement.

As she carried you down the dirt road back to the inn, she spoke in a frustrated tone, "You are the stupidest fish ive ever met."

"And you're the sappiest pirate ive ever met."

..

When Sevika stepped into the inn with you in her arms the keep gawked at you. You were cradled like a baby, weightless in her hold. She kept a stern gaze as he passed her the keys with a room number attached "56".

The people that sat in the inn waiting room averted their eyes, shrinking under Sevika's cold grey eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed, making you want to reach up and rub the wrinkle between them.

She walked up old rickety stairs, almost bending under your combined weight and turned left down the hall to the room. It was surprisingly quiet, and you were able to hear the woman's ragged breaths. Sevika was obviously worn out and tired from her day, and still came to your rescue.

How heroic.

She effortlessly shifted you to one arm, making sure your head was steady against her shoulder and creaked open the wooden door. Your tail barely brushed against the ground, her height compensating for the length.

"I need—," you spoke, before she cut you off with a grunt.

"Water. I know."

Opening the door to the bathroom, she sighed at the size. It was almost too small to fit her large frame and your long tail.

Dropping you into the tub gently, she turned the knob for cold water. "Want me to sprinkle in salt?"

You genuinely couldn't tell if she was joking, "No, no it's okay," You laughed, humming at the feeling of water on your tail.

"Why did you let yourself get caught," Sevika said, more as a statement than a question.

"I wanted to find you.. and I succeeded.. mission accomplished?"

She shook her head and bent down to accommodate for the space between you. She put a warm hand to your cheek, eyes soft and almost concerned, "Don't go looking for me like that again, danger follows me closely."

You giggled at her seriousness, despite being roughed around and almost being sold as fish food (or worse) you felt somewhat at ease. The woman at your side brought you a strange feeling of comfort, comfort that the sea never brought you.

"I guess ill just have to follow you closer."

i already have ideas for part three.... hehehehehe

again, thank you for the asks they are sweet ! and comment if you want to be on the taglist for part 3 , i do have some other works in my drafts but im saving them for when i finish this series :) but asks are open !!!

@misswynters @haruko--bby @thesecondhandwoman @theirlaliengirl

[girlsworldillusion]

Ocean's Tear

Aemond x Siren!Reader

Summary: At first it was just curiosity. There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest.

Captain Targaryen, they called him.

It seemed like just a silly curiosity. But you quickly realize that your little curiosity turns into something much worse.

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive:

Taking an interest in a human.

Rated: M +18

Warnings: interspecies relationships, mentions of blood and death, dark themes.

Word account: 9k

Author's note: This story was divided into two parts. I'll be posting the final act soon, if it gets a good reception. Happy reading!

At first it was just curiosity. 

There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest. 

That something could be many things, of course, and at first you thought it was just his unusual hair color, a singularity that made him stand out from the rest like a sore thumb. 

Despite having seen many different humans throughout your life, you didn't remember ever seeing one with hair like his. As far as you knew, only aged humans had hair that color. But the man you began to observe closely didn't seem aged. Quite the opposite. His tall, strong physique indicated that he was a very healthy adult man of, if your knowledge of the human race was anything to go by, thirty years old at most. And yet, the strands of his hair were as light as the pure white moon that shone above the ocean. 

But there was another singularity about the man. He always wore a damn leather eye patch on the left side of his face. When you first saw this, you laughed in derision at how stereotypical the human was being. What? A ship captain wearing an eyepatch? So predictable. All that was missing was a hook in his hand and a wooden leg to complete the standard pirate look. 

It should have been ridiculous, at the very least. Except it wasn't. 

It was actually embarrassing how fascinating you found the dark contrast of the leather with the silver strands that were always coming loose from his ponytail. 

Honestly, it was worrying how quickly you were becoming interested in this strange human. 

But, the days passed and, regardless of how peculiar those details about him were, that wasn't the only thing that made you pay so much attention to the man. 

The way he behaved was also different from the others. Unlike the loud and obnoxious humans you were used to encountering while sailing these seas, this man walked the deck with his head held high and an indifferent expression, a cigarette lazily held between his fingers, telling each of the crew members what to do in a firm and authoritative manner, although he never had to raise his voice at any time. 

Captain Targaryen, they called him. He was always calm, always in control, silent most of the time - as if he were directly responsible for inspiring and maintaining order around him. It was immediately clear to you why he was the captain of this ship. Just as it was also clear that this human was more fortunate than others you had seen. Not only did his posture and manner reveal his high-class upbringing, but also his ship which, despite keeping its simple dark tones and overall understated appearance, was much larger and much better preserved than those that normally visited this area of ​​the ocean.

You didn't know who this man was, but he certainly wasn't just anyone. 

Despite all this, he was still a human, and even though he had caught your attention for reasons that not even you could fully understand, you knew from the beginning that you shouldn't entertain such curiosity. Humans were cunning and treacherous little things, regardless of their appearance. And even if such a notion was irrelevant (it wasn't), he wouldn't last long anyway. Not here. If you had noticed the ship's approach and, especially, the presence of the various crew members inside it, your sisters had too. It was only a matter of time now. The days of not only this man, but everyone under his command, were numbered. 

You shouldn't entertain your curiosity. 

But, despite all your rules, tact, and minimal capacity for good judgment, you found yourself getting closer and closer to the human's vessel. 

Surprisingly, there was still some sense left in you, and you chose to do this always at night, when it would be easier to keep yourself hidden from unwanted eyes. 

That was the reason, of course. Not the fact that it was at night that the man came out on deck to take a breather, when his crew was already asleep. Every night, without exception, punctual as clockwork. 

Fuck. You are such an idiot. 

A pair of large eyes peer through the gentle rippling of the water. Submerged up to your nose, you keep cautiously away (though closer than you were last night, and the night before, and the night before that... - tsk, idiot, idiot). The length of your long tail sways below the surface, deceptively delicate fins rippling in anticipation, tense and restless. 

He lights a cigarette. 

Your sensitive nose wrinkles in response to the disgusting and very human habit, but you barely blink as you watch him raise the thing to his lips. He holds it there until the tip burns an abrasive shade of red, staring at the dark, endless horizon ahead, the ship beneath his feet rocking rhythmically with the waves lapping at its sides. He pulls his fingers away after a few seconds to breathe in a cloud of smoke, and you swear you can taste the toxic flavor of tobacco even from where you stand. The thought doesn’t bother you as much as it should. The chilly night wind blows a few loose strands in front of his face, the rest of his silver hair tied back in a messy bun. 

His posture during the day is always the same; confident and calm. He’s the picture of composure most of the time. But here, at night, smoking his disgusting cigarette in deep, silent contemplation, he almost always looks...sad. As if the burden weighs heavily on his shoulders and this is the only time he can leave small visible cracks in his normally impenetrable countenance. 

Lonely. He looks lonely. 

Maybe he's not so different from you after all. 

Your tail fin shakes a little harder, the fingers on your hands flexing agitatedly. What was with this human, anyway? Why were you wasting your time here, trying to understand his fragile and insignificant human feelings when the time for hunting had obviously not even begun? This kind of behavior was not common in your species. Of course, if any of your sisters showed up you could just say that you were observing your prey, getting to know its weak points better for when the time came to attack. 

But was that really what you were doing? 

The human rests his elbows and leans his body on the edge of the ship, once again bringing the cigarette to his lips. His strong forearms are exposed by the rolled-up sleeve of his black shirt, showing off a pale ivory complexion, long and prominent veins along its length. He is like a carefully crafted statue, his body agile and tall, powerful and elegant. 

He tilts his face gently and blinks slowly and vaguely. You recognize that this is the worst moment to realize that from where you are standing you can't tell the exact shade of his eye - apparently his only good eye, in fact. The thought leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

You want to know what color his eye is.

"Gods, what am I doing?" You mutter sullenly as you sink gently, pushing your body closer to the ship with a flick of your tail. Despite your obvious and undeniable propensity for making reckless choices, your movements are carefully calculated, using the waves and the blind spots of the moonlight to cover any suspicious tracks. 

You are now as close to the human vessel as you have ever been - at least outside of a context other than exclusively for attack and feeding. If you swing your tail enough you might even touch the side of the ship, the human hovering a few feet above you. Your hands are strangely trembling beneath the surface, nervous and anxious, and you flex your fingers to contain your stupid reaction, feeling the sharp tips of your claws in contact with the soft palms. 

Your discretion is rewarded with the human's seemingly complete ignorance, who remains in the same position as before, still smoking and staring at the choppy waves, oblivious to your presence. You sigh softly, a sound of relief, letting your eyes travel over the sharp, clear lines of his masculine face. 

The night is dark, cloudy, with only the moonlight and a few lights from the human vessel itself illuminating the surroundings. But your eyes are capable, much more capable than a human's, made to see perfectly underwater and stalk your prey with skill, and you part your lips when you clearly realize that his eye is blue. As blue as the sea is near the coast, where the waves shine with a crystalline and mesmerizing prism, like ethereal stained glass. 

As bright as... 

The man exhales another mouthful of that intoxicating smoke into the humid night air, but you barely blink where you stand. Your fingers instinctively close around the stone attached to the necklace floating in front of your breasts. The blue gem is cold against your fingertips, but you know its power and magic burn like burning embers. 

You’re so distracted that you barely notice the significance of the human’s next move, your eyes only half noticing his hand rising to his face. You watch without really seeing as he removes the eye patch from his face, vaguely returning to the present as you think of the strange break in routine that this act has made - he had never removed the eye patch during the nights you had been watching. 

He would go out, smoke that horrible cigarette without any rush while looking out at the endless sea, throw the toxic stuff on the floor when he was done and extinguish the ember with a drag of his boot before entering the ship to sleep. Every night, religiously. 

Any thoughts of routine evaporate from your mind when the leather finally comes off his face, caught between the captain’s fingers as he lowers his hand. Your lips part and your eyes widen, your tail freezes below the surface for a few seconds. 

There is a stone where his eye should be. A blue stone. A stone you would recognize anywhere. Your own blue gem seems to warm between your fingers in response, glowing subtly as if sensing the presence of a twin stone.

“W-what...but - how?” You whisper, confused and alarmed. How could this human have something like this? Not even all sirens had such a stone. You yourself only managed to find yours a few years ago.

The Ocean's Tear, as the stone was known to your kin, was an extremely rare and nearly impossible to find relic, treasured by all sirens for its power to grant them specific ‘gifts’. The gifts vary from individual to individual, however. While some could heal themselves from any harm, some could hear the thoughts of others as if they were their own, others could persuade any living creature to do what they wanted. The possibilities go on and on.

You, after decades of tireless searching, had found your gem in a remote corner of the ocean, having gone through thirst, hunger and almost losing your own life when facing a relentless pod of hungry orcas that chased you at some point towards the end of the journey. It was an exhausting search and almost cost you more than you were willing to give, but it was all worth it when you finally touched your own 'ocean's tear'. You remember how the jewel warmed slightly and sparkled like countless bright diamond points between your trembling fingers, reacting instantly to your touch, as if it had also been waiting for this moment all its life - waiting for you all its life. 

You cried that day, for the first time.

Of course, after days and days of the gem hanging proudly around your neck and nothing different happening, you started to get suspicious. Days turned into months and months stretched into years and you didn't see any change in your body; no psychic gifts, no persuasive power over sea creatures or self-healing abilities. You were still just you, the same as always. 

It was frustrating and humiliating. 

But you couldn't stop wearing the jewel, after all it was still the 'ocean's tear'. Any siren who had it would automatically gain the silent respect of others. You were someone capable with this stone. With it, you were important. Someone wise and strong enough to seek and find the impossible. You were proud to show off your relic - even if it was useless in the end. 

The bad mood was constantly present with you since then. Disappointed, but strangely not surprised. Of course this would happen to you; of course you would swim tirelessly across the seven seas in search of the jewel of jewels and it simply wouldn't work for you. That's the kind of karma that haunts you. 

You had almost died to conquer the impossible only to find out that the impossible didn't want you. 

And now this human dares to flaunt the impossible as if it were something anyone could have? 

As if it were something that some random human who thinks he knows the ocean could claim for himself just because he has a ship and other stupid little humans to put inside it? 

The stone wouldn't do anything for him, you know. The gem only reacts to sirens, without exception. This human dared to steal something that belongs to your species, only for the artifact to be absolutely wasted in the end. In this human's hands the jewel was just a cold, shiny stone. Beautiful and exotic, no doubt, but useless. 

(But wasn't it also useless in your hands?)

You snarl at your own incriminating thought, narrowing your eyes to slits as you watch the human tilt his face - oblivious to the dangerous and highly emotional turmoil of a supposedly non-existent creature right next to him. The moonlight gloriously intensifies the smooth complexion of his handsome face, the aristocratic line of his nose, the long silver strands fluttering in the wind. His good eye and the damned stolen jewel, dark as the deep waters of the sea.

The instant thought that this human, selfish and cruel as he is, could be as deserving (or undeserving, in this case) as you of something as pure and sacred as the ocean's tear, is so offensive that it is physically nauseating. How could he have something that you have spent decades of your life searching for? Something that countless of your sisters would never even have the privilege of seeing, much less having for themselves? He does not deserve this.

Your teeth grind, the sharp canines piercing the inside of your mouth until you taste your own blood. 

He's the enemy. No matter how interesting and handsome you find him, the stone (an heirloom of your people, not his) that he sports embedded in his face is just more proof of how dirty and morally corrupt humans are - something that, admittedly, you have known all along. 

He's a thief. A sneaky usurper. 

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive. Take an interest in a human. And you know it. From the human race, only the worst is expected, really. You just hated that this human in question was so fascinating. 

"How did you get this?" 

Your own grumpy voice echoes in the silence of the night, scaring not only the human on the ship, but yourself as well. The sound is a bubbling rustle of words, hoarse around the edges and almost brittle from disuse, rarely having been used for conversational purposes. But it is audible enough to catch the human's attention. Your eyes widen, any animosity and anger instantly forgotten in the shock of your complete and utter lack of control. The man turns his head in the direction of your voice, quick as a whip, at exactly the same moment that you react and dive. 

"Idiot, idiot, idiot!" You repeat the mantra, swimming until you are at a safe depth. 

The question had simply slipped through your lips without you being able to stop it, but you knew how much you had screwed up. 

Looking up, distressed and uncertain, you see through the ripples of the water that the human is staring intently at the sea, his one eye sliding from one corner to the other - trying to find the source of the voice he heard. The darkness of the night is on your favor and you know he can't see anything but foam and the dark waves, no matter how hard he tries. You hope he quickly comes to the most logical conclusion for this situation; that he didn't hear what he thinks he heard. It was just his own mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he blames it on tiredness and sleep, or the lack of it. 

But as he stands there, brows furrowed and serious eye, stubbornly searching for something that even he himself wouldn't know what, something whispers to you that he won't just give up. 

"Hello?" He asks in a thick, drawling tone, tired you notice, once again leaning slightly on the side of the ship to better see the waters below. When no sound other than the waves of the sea is heard, he hums thoughtfully for a moment, almost imperceptibly softening his frown to something more neutral and calm. "It's okay. I know you're there. It's not the first time I feel like I'm being watched, to be honest." His voice is the same as you remember; steady, controlled, a low timbre that’s almost husky around the edges. You would be delighted by it, as you have been many times before, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, your cheeks darkening in embarrassment at the confirmation that he’d somehow felt your presence this whole time.

Gods, a human was embarrassing you. What had you come to?

"But this is the first time you've said anything. I have to say that you surprised me tonight, since I assumed we'd be playing this game for a while longer." He continues, a vaguely playful quirk in his drawl, adjusting his body so that he's leaning sideways on the deck and bringing what's left of his cigarette to lips again. Your heart pounds violently in your chest, your tail fin rattling restlessly with your anxiety. 

You don't know why you're still here. 

He puffs out his swirling cloud of smoke, looking completely at ease and at ease with the situation - although he's heard a mysterious, feminine voice ring out in the middle of the night, in one of the most dangerous parts of the entire ocean, in a place where he logically knows there no be any women. But he remains calm. Unlike you, who have everything but control over yourself at this moment. And, once again, you feel diminished by this human. 

He behaves in the opposite direction of what you're used to from human behavior. He confuses and intrigues you, awakening feelings you never imagined you had for someone of his kind. 

Here you were, undeniably afraid of being caught, but unable to simply swin away and leave him behind. All because some random human had made you interested in him. Turned you into a soft thing, fascinated by unusual hair colors and eye patches. Watching a lesser creature constantly, attentively and almost obsessively, like a damn stalker would - and not even in the sense you normally watch humans; in the context of predator and prey. With each passing day it became more evident that you were not planning to eat this human. 

It was just you, interested in him. 

For the first time in your long life, you don't know what you're doing. He messes with the natural order of things and you don't know what to do. 

The world has grown old. But not you, nor any of your many sisters. The world has grown old, but it has always been the same to you. There has always been an order to follow. You have been here for longer than you can remember, hidden beneath the waves while the men above came and went, building and destroying everything around them. You have watched them grow into selfish, greedy creatures, thirsting for a dominion over the world they are unable to maintain. Blind to the fact that there are other forms of life besides their own, men see themselves as better and more important, hunting and killing without scruple or consideration those they consider inferior to them. Without remorse. 

But it is here, in the far corners of the ocean, that they find retribution for their acts of greed. 

Men take everything. But here, shadowed by legends and tales, the sirens feed on men; on proud sailors roaming the vast blue sea, their noses in the air and their egos throbbing that nothing could harm them. 

You were the men's reckoning. That was all. This was the natural order of things. 

The time for the men on this ship, including their fascinating captain, was approaching, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to prevent such a fate. You shouldn’t entertain mixed feelings for him. You shouldn’t. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t do anything against an entire horde of sirens that would inevitably be here soon. Cultivating any feelings wouldn’t do him any good, much less you. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to show up yet. You’ve already given me the proof I needed to know that I’m not insane, and I appreciate that.” He continues his monologue above the surface, unfazed by the lack of response, a small, amused tug at the corner of his pink lips. Below the waters you almost snort, thinking that he definitely shouldn’t be grateful for that. Regardless of whether you decided to show up or not, he would still be considered, at the very least, ‘insane’ by anyone who heard this story later. 

His words, however, bring heat to your stomach, rising until it darkens your cheeks. 

The Captain Targaryen had graced you with fine words, admittedly, simple as they were, and perhaps there was some truth to them. He had always been different, after all; he lacked the common harshness and cruelty with which captains tended to lead their crews. He had a fair amount of coldness in his speech, true, and his humor was acidic and even dark at times. But he did not seem cruel. He commanded with a firm hand, yes, but also with respect. 

Perhaps, deep down, he meant well. 

But there was still that voice that screamed that his nature would inevitably betray him. He was human, after all. It was in his nature to be seduced by his own greed and ambition. You only wondered how long it would be before the tide turned and he showed his true colors.

But even knowing all this, you find yourself unable to stop yourself from making the next monumental mistake. 

The man sighs wearily one last time, betraying his indifferent facade, the cigarette clutched between his fingers falling to the floor of the deck, just waiting for the usual drag of the sole of his boot. He looks a little longer at the dark waves below, his neutral expression not wavering much, but there is that same glint that screams loneliness flickering discreetly in his blue gaze - the stolen stone singing to you from the other side. He would leave. 

Before you think, you are acting. 

In your seriously questionable logic, you know that nothing has really changed around you. But in your body powered purely by adrenaline and poor choices, you feel as if even the waves have calmed in response to your action. The world stands still as you push yourself to the surface with a rhythmic undulation of your tail, webbed fingers moving in unison. Even the wind seems to have died down; all you can hear is your blood rushing in your ears. Deep in your chest, something pulls, twists, hurts — sings — 

Your head slowly emerges from the water.  

It takes a few seconds for the Captain’s gaze to settle on you, and you could have used that time to try to make amends for your rash decision, but you choose not to move. And when he looks at you, his indifferent expression finally cracking to reveal a single wide eye and lips parted to gasp a startled sound and you finely sketch a reaction other than silent hysteria. A shy smile stretches your plush lips as you notices his expression, despite how seriously damaged your nerves are — perhaps irreparably. You did this, you broke that perfect calm of his. 

Despite your silent victory, your large, narrow-pupiled eyes stare back at him with apprehension, your heart racing in your chest and your breathing ragged. There’s a moment when neither of you make a move, both frozen in place, unsure of what the hell to do with the surreal scene unfolding right in front of you. 

It feels like an eternity in the void before you’re swallowing the uncomfortable lump that’s permanently lodged in your throat, daring to swim in hesitant jerks closer to the vessel. 

He watches you with unwavering focus, a little more composed, but still open-mouthed. His steps stagger slightly, but eventually he too makes his way toward the lower part of the ship, where you’re swimming. 

You stop when you reach the raised boarding platform, the human slowly approaching from the other side, never taking his eye off you, as if afraid to blink and you’ll disappear. He stops walking when you raise a hand, blinking in surprise at the elastic, almost transparent membrane between your spread fingers. 

Somehow he quickly understands what you want, shaking his head once to signal that he won’t go any further from that point. With that, you prop your elbows on the edge of the platform, lifting yourself just a few inches above the surface, the heavy strands slick on your head and saltwater running down your cheeks to drip from the tip of your chin, the bridge of your nose, and the arch of your lips. 

“I...fuck, what the hell was in that cigarette anyway?” He gasps and crouches awkwardly, looking away at the length of your long tail swaying beneath the waves, lush fins undulating languidly like a delicate wet veil in the wind. He takes in every last detail of you with absolute focus, leaving you as embarrassed as you're flattered — but mostly, hyper-aware of yourself. But you force yourself to relax, trying to imagine yourself through his gaze.

The countless shiny scales all over your tail range from an endless expanse of onyx to purple at some angles, gradually lightening to the side fins and the end of your tail, tinged with a striking shade of translucent lilac. The purple scales were also dotted softly all over your body; rising in a perfect gradient from the sides of your waist until disappearing into the soft cream of your skin, on the undersides and sides of your forearms and elbows, delicately covering the soft, discreet mounds of your breasts and marking the entire line of your spine. 

There is a discreet dusting on the tops of your cheeks, a subtle kaleidoscope of purple and soft pink that transforms into small, bright freckles as your emotions rise - as they are right now. Your full, pink lips hide almost normal teeth, except for the dangerously sharp canines and incisors. Long, thick eyelashes over a pair of large, expressive eyes with slitted pupils like a cat's. Your hair waves around the shoulders, floating beneath the surface of the water in a slow dance, partially hiding the three small lines that mark the gills on either side of your neck. Your hands, though small and seemingly delicate, are adorned with long, sharp claws, as dark as the darkest part of the ocean, the thin translucent membrane between your fingers much stronger than it looks. 

It's unnerving how insecure he makes you with his prolonged silence, just looking at every inch of you with his bright eye and parted lips. 

You know you're beautiful. If there's any truth to the many tales about your species, it's the undeniably seductive appeal of your appearance. Deadly beauty, the tales say. It's your greatest hunting trick, after all. But under the weight of that watchful gaze, you find yourself unable to escape the clutches of insecurity. What if he didn't find your colors appealing? It's true that your scales aren't as vibrant and colorful as some of your sisters. Your tones are more muted and simple compared to the bright and open ones of your distant relatives. Maybe he found you...too dark? 

And why is this human's opinion so important to you? 

You huff and straighten up until your shoulders are completely out of the water, the sapphire pendant floating in front of your chest. Your expression takes on notes of embarrassed annoyance, the small freckles on your cheeks and the bridge of your nose shimmering subtly. The human drinks in your reaction attentively, not understanding what they mean, but undeniably fascinated by them. 

"You're...holy shit...this is a dream, right? It can't be real. You can't be real." He mutters lazily, voice slurred and thick, wide hands flexing at his sides in two tense fists, the night wind mussing the moon-like strands of his hair. "I knew there was something out there all along, but this...you..." he shakes his head in denial before continuing, "nothing as completely perfect as you can be real."

Oh. The dusting of color on your cheeks deepens and you look away, uncomfortable with the stupid shiver in your belly at the human’s words. Why did he have to be so rudely blunt? You blink the salty sea water out of your eyes a few times before looking back up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning an indifference you don’t feel. Rude, definitely. But, gods, such a handsome rude. His sharp features are as delicate in some ways as they are rough in others. A man, undeniably. The lights from the ship illuminate his striking features, highlighting skin as smooth and pale as the sand on the clearest beach.

Except for one detail.

The flickering yellow of the artificial lights only intensifies the depth of a grotesque scar across that false eye. Your eyes narrow slightly, following the rough, jagged line of the cut that runs from the middle of his forehead down his cheekbone, ending just inches above the corner of his lip. A raw, deep cut, a wound that certainly caused him a lot of pain - perhaps it still does. A scar like that indicates a trauma that cannot be easily overcome after all. 

Did he get it while he was behind the ocean's tear? 

The thought inevitably brings you back to what was the trigger for this whole colossal mistake, making you quickly focus on the blue stone in his left eye while trying to ignore the discomfort of seeing such a comprehensive wound on this human. 

"How..." You rasp, pushing the hoarseness out of your normally melodic timbre, even though your tongue feels uncomfortable inside your mouth and your throat scratches from being used after so much time in silence. The man looks at you with disturbing focus, however, his gaze lazy and bright, his lips slightly parted, as if he were listening to the most enchanting and pure sound of all. "How did you get that?" You point a finger at the stone when you manage to say the words, direct and honest, leaving no room for confusion. 

He blinks once. 

"Uh, this?" He extends two fingers to the stone in question, tapping its cool surface twice, a slight tug of amusement on his lips. “I found this a while back when diving near a reef. Shinier than anything I've ever seen.” He sounds almost proud as he drawls, though he shrugs at the end — as if the accomplishment isn’t all that big of a deal after all. 

Your fascination with the human is eclipsed by the blinding wave of irritation and humiliation that rushes through your veins at the sudden words. What the hell does he mean, ‘found this a while back’? As if the fucking ocean's tear is something a stupid human could just stumble upon by accident? Near a reef, of all places! As if something so inexplicably valuable could be so easily discoverable?

Fuck, as if you didn't literally almost die because of that!

What were the gods doing to you, anyway? What kind of cruel joke was this? How much more would you have to be humiliated by this human before you finally snapped and killed him?

“Liar.” You hiss slowly through your dangerous teeth, refusing to believe this lame version of the story. Your eyes narrow and your nose furrows a fraction, along with your eyebrows. Beneath the surface of the water your tail jerks restlessly, creating a visible ripple in the waves around you. The human, to your silent satisfaction, seems to have some sense after all and notices that something has changed in you. His posture, once reverent and curious, is now more alert and cautious, though he doesn’t pull away immediately. His shoulders roll slowly beneath the shirt and his jaw tenses once before he extends his open hands to you in what should be a reassuring gesture.

"Hey, it's okay..." His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, and it's embarrassing how his calm tone has an effect on you, making you almost instantly relax your fingers clenched into tight fists that you barely noticed you were holding. He remains crouched for a few seconds, but shrugs his shoulders and arches his back a little, as if he wanted to make himself smaller for you. Less threatening. You almost burst out laughing at the sheer silliness of it. 

This human wouldn't be a threat to you even if he were at his full height - which you admittedly agree is well above any human you've ever met. Even watching from afar all these nights, it was clear to you that his size surpassed yours in almost every way. Your upper half, of course. He was wide and tall where you were seemingly delicate and fragile. Except for your tail. At its full length you would be much taller than him. 

Yes, you may seem delicate overall, but that is just another deceptive hunting device, a feminine appeal that screams fragility and seduction, luring your prey until it is too late for them. 

You are anything but weak, and no matter what, he is still human. His strength, as great as it may be, would still be nothing compared to yours. One move, right now, and he would be dead. If you really wanted this, it would be over before he even realized what had happened. 

You could wrap your fingers around his ankle and pull him into the dark waters; it would take just the right amount of pressure and speed and he would hit his head on the deck as he fell, probably dying instantly from the blow. But even if he survived that, his end would come quickly beneath the cruel waves of the ocean. Whether from the inevitable loss of oxygen, or the absurd pressure as you pulled him under, or even from the deadly claws you would sink into the fragile flesh of his human body. Or even your fangs, long and sharp as needles as they slice into the pale softness of his throat, draining the life out of him as he gurgle and choke on blood and salt water. 

There were at least ten ways you could kill this human right here and now, and you wouldn’t even have to think about it. It would be natural, you’ve done it before. If you wanted to, he’d already be dead. 

But… 

You don’t want to. 

And that’s why you don’t laugh at his attempt to calm you down. You don’t laugh because it’s not funny. There’s no humor in the feeling of mourning in your chest for that instinctive, natural part that seems to have laid down and died inside you. There’s no hunger, no thirst, no desire to make him pay for humanity’s selfish, cruel acts. There’s no predator and prey tonight. 

You blink away the sting of tears wanting to form, tense expression softening to something almost melancholic, fins flicking slowly beneath the water. By the seas, you wouldn't cry in front of this human. It would be the height of your humiliation.

"What I said is true, I swear." He continues his soothing murmur, slowly lowering his palms, looking straight into your eyes with such interest and focus that you feel as if it were just the two of you in the world. What a foolish thought. "I actually found the stone by accident. It was just a dive like any other, nothing special. And then it was there. So bright that even hidden under the sand I could see it perfectly." He smiles a little at the memory, reciting the facts calmly and carefully, obviously wanting to avoid angering you again. "It doesn't shine like it used to though, now it looks more like a dead flame or something. I don't think it belongs in the world outside the sea." A tired sigh escapes his lips at the end, his expression almost disappointed - even though he's trying for a reassuring smile. 

You snort. 

"Of course it isn't. But that's what you humans do, after all. Always taking what doesn't belong to you." You recite the words in a disapproving tone that doesn’t carry as much hate as it should. Not for him, at least. 

He looks at you with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows, forearms resting on his knees as he thinks about what you just said. 

“Yes. I suppose so.” He murmurs after what feels like a lifetime, exhaling through his nose. 

There’s silence between the two of you after that, nothing but the waves crashing against the hull of the ship as he stands contemplatively looking at you, as if searching for answers in your face. He’s not embarrassed by it, nor does he even try to hide his obvious interest in you. It’s unsettling, to say the least, to have this human’s attention so completely on you. Flattering too, but you don’t think much of it. 

You definitely don’t want to be the first one to look away, but you���re getting restless with the intense eye contact and the silence, your sharp nails rhythmically drumming on the metal of the plataform. The shiny dust on your cheeks and nose becomes more and more evident, and perhaps the Captain is finally connecting the dots because a small smile stretches his lips - a genuine smile this time, something light and sweet, but undeniably provocative. 

"It's doesn't react to you!" You say abruptly, spitting out the first thing that came to mind just to break the tension of the silence between the two of you. But your tone is too shrill and loud not to be seen as suspicious, increasing the color and intensity of the shiny dots on your cheeks and shoulders. The captain raises his eyebrow in amused question, indicating that he hadn't understood. You sigh, swallowing your own embarrassment. 

"The stone. It's a special jewel... very sensitive, intelligent even, you could say. It's extremely reactive, just not to everyone." He listens to you attentively and with a sharp gaze, almost making you stumble over your own words a few times. "It doesn't shine like it used to because you're human and the stone know it. The ocean's tear, as it's called, only reacts to...uh, well...sea creatures." You find yourself irritatingly unable to explicitly say what you are, even though it's more than obvious by now. Some kind of throbbing self-consciousness takes hold of your mind, the very real realization that he can and probably will come to the inevitable conclusion that you and he are creatures from different worlds tightens your vocal cords and stops you from continuing. 

Good heavens, as if the disparity between the two of you wasn't already obvious enough. Why would you suddenly be worried about it?

“Creatures like you, I suppose.” He contemplates, ruining your earlier subtlety with his irritating honesty. A small, sullen pout forms on your lower lip at that, more glittering dust of color staining your cheeks. 

This was getting beyond ridiculous. 

“Here.” You sigh grudgingly, breaking eye contact to pull the blue pendant from your long necklace between your thumb and forefinger. The stone is, as you said, reactive and immediately comes to life under your touch, singing and vibrating in the most beautiful shade of blue; prisms ​​of diamonds and sapphires, resplendent and pure. The Captain Targaryen has the decency to look positively delighted to see this — as he should — and you smile softly at his reaction, finding great satisfaction in his rosy cheeks and bright gaze. 

And then he’s standing to walk towards you, but stops short when you narrow your eyes and tense. 

"It's okay. It's okay. I just want to..." he points to the stone, and you look at it. Then at him. And at the stone. And back at him. "I just want to get a closer look. But it's okay, I don't want to make you uncomfortable." 

You're already uncomfortable, you want to scream. You've been uncomfortable for weeks now. He's seen you, talked to you, heard more words from you than you've said to any other human - more words than you've said to any species in a long time, including your own. None of it made you comfortable. And yet, here you were. It would be a stupid, reckless mistake, no doubt about it. But you've been nothing but stupid and reckless these past few days. It couldn't get any worse. 

(Yes, it could.) 

"It's okay." You mumble, relaxing the muscles in your body and softening your expression into what you hope is something more friendly, more inviting. "You can come closer." 

"Yeah?" He asks and you just nod once, not wanting to repeat yourself. 

It takes him a few seconds to continue, but eventually moves. The tops of his boots are quickly soaked as he lowers onto the platform, the salty water lapping in small waves at his ankles. Something in your stomach feels alive, you notice with apprehension as you hold his gaze, fluttering and growing colder with each step he takes towards you. A sort of instinct growing and taking over you, taking over the strings of your body as if you were just watching everything from the outside, without control. 

Your arms seek better support on the deck and you push yourself up, sitting as best you can on the floor, your back against the edge of the vessel, most of your tail still floating under the water. It's an instinctive reaction, really, and you barely realize what you're doing before it's done. It's not comfortable, you realize immediately, but what's done is done and the human's dumbfounded look is worth the awkward position. 

"I..." he begins uncertainly, crouching back down on his knees, this time right next to you, taking your permission to come closer very seriously. 

His gaze inevitably drops to where your breasts are exposed, his chest rising and falling faster the longer he keeps his attention there. It's not an offensive behavior, although it still makes you self-conscious in a funny way. It's not his fault, really. They're just there, in front of him - without any of the fabric coverings that humans are used to wearing. It would be impossible not to notice. And, well, they're different. You know they're not the conventional breasts he's used to seeing, most likely. Unlike human breasts, your soft mounds are dotted with flexible, delicate scales in a prism of lavender and purple, with no nipples in sight. But they're still breasts, and he's still a man. So he stares, until he realizes he's still staring. His pale cheeks grow pinker and he quickly looks up at your face as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. 

A shy, yet somewhat mischievous smile stretches your lips despite your nerves.

"Fuck, this is insane." He scratches the back of his neck as he half laughs, half gasps, and for the first time, you find yourself agreeing wholeheartedly with this human. This is insane. 

His reaction makes you relax a little, and soon you're holding the stone between your humiliatingly trembling fingers again and holding it out to him, as far as the necklace around your neck allow. He's closer to you than he's ever been, so close that you can smell the ghost of artificial mint tobacco on his breath. It's horrible. It's perfect. 

The wind is more urgent now, whistling and howling and foaming water hitting the sides of the ship harder - as if the elements themselves are trying to warn you of the dangers of this approach. 

You don't listen. 

"It's...perfect." The captain whispers as he holds the stone, his long fingers inevitably brushing yours during the exchange, sending an electrifying, heated sensation through your entire body. He lowers his head to get a better look at the stone that gradually fades as it is held by his human hand, the vibrant and ethereal glow of blue fading to a darker shade. "Look at this, I guess I'm nothing special, hm?" He says this smiling, the stone still clutched in his fingers raised between your bodies, your faces close to each other. When he looks up at yours you are already looking at him, blinking with your large and expressive eyes. 

Your own fingers raise, hesitant and curious, to the stone in his eye. You are slow with it, giving both him time to stop you if he wants to and yourself, but in the end neither of you reacts. The human just looks at your fingers before slowly shifting to your eyes once more, the night wind pushing a strands of silver between your faces until they touch your cheeks in a strangely intimate caress. When the tip of your two fingers touches the cool surface of the jewel it reacts immediately, drawing a sigh from both of you. The gem shines, warms under your touch, singing in vibrant and lively tones. 

"I can feel -" The man murmurs almost breathlessly, blue eye wide open, dark pupil dilating like an endless black hole, searching your gaze as if you held all the answers he needs. 

"What can you feel?" Your voice is no better than his, just as small and low. Your trembling fingers still on the jewel, feeling its vibration, listening reverently to the secret and silent song that it could only sing for you. The pure brightness reflects on your face, illuminating your features with a soft blue shade, enchanting the man in front of you as if you were an angelic image. A mythical and unattainable creature. A siren, in fact. 

"I can feel...you." He confides with a reverent look, your own jewel still firmly gripped in his fingers, although inert and dark. The disparity should be frightening -; under your touch the gems shine and come to life, in his they wither and fall asleep. It should be just another indisputable proof in the already very high pile of evidence of how unnatural any involvement between you two would be. 

But the collision is inevitable like the approaching storm. 

He moves, leaning his body to kneel on the floor, soaking the fabric of his pants with the cold waves that partially cover this part of the deck. His tall, broad-shouldered body shadows yours, naturally trapping you against the side of the ship. Simultaneously you both release the grip your had on the jewels, as if you felt something had changed in the air. The pulsing muscle in your chest seems more intense and faster than ever as you looks at that stupid human, so close and so bold. 

"What's your name?" He asks quietly, watching you so closely that you can barely focus on what was said, the question coming to you like an afterthought or a bruise that you only notice hours after it happened.

A name? Gods, how long has it been since you were called by your own name? How many decades has it been since someone cared enough to ask? 

You whisper your name to him, confiding a part of yourself that was rarely spoken to anyone. 

"..." he murmurs back, your own name sounding like the sunset over the ocean as it leaves his lips, beautiful and peaceful, yet breathtaking. You blink slowly, feeling as if inverse forces are at work in this moment. Feeling as if he has the gift of enchantment, unlike you. What is happening? "I am -" 

"Captain Targaryen," you are quick to add, already accustomed to hearing his crew repeat his designation. 

"Well, yes, that is usually what I am called..." he laughs softly, tilting his head an inch closer to you, meeting your gaze over the bridge of his nose. "But it is not my name." 

Oh. Yes, of course. You know it. 

He touches a damp strand of your hair, curious and gentle before letting the pad of his finger trace over the delicate curve of your nose, the outline of your eyebrows. 

“Aemond,” the captain murmurs, and then presses the pad of his thumb against your lip, gently. You shiver, exhaling shakily at the touch. “My name is Aemond.” 

Aemond. 

The name rolls off your tongue and you repeat it, sweet as molasses, petal lips sliding against his thumb as you do so. He swallows with an almost mesmerizing movement of his Adam’s apple, heated gaze following the way his thumb presses against the soft fur of your bottom lip once more before he lets go of the touch. It’s almost disappointing to miss, but soon you realize he’s touching the bright freckles high on your cheeks and nose, one at a time, and then further to scratch along the shadows of color in your skin. 

He’s close, almost sharing the same breath with you, so intensely interested in you that your heart catches in a slow burst of heat — of desire. An old feeling, hidden and locked away beneath layers of loneliness. 

The gills on the sides of your neck itch and your throat starts to tighten from being out of the water for so long, a warning that you need to get back in soon. You know that. 

You won’t. 

Heart in your throat, you let him smooth your cheek with soft touches, thumb tracing the entire length of the curve of your jaw until it caresses the shape of your ear. His gaze is heavy on yours, mesmerized and fascinated, even though you haven’t used any of your gifts of enchantment. Not this time. Never with him. 

“Beautiful.” He sings you an honest compliment and is so gentle, careful, hesitant even, as he pulls your face to his, and you feel the whisper of a nose slowly sliding against yours before thunder is heard in the distance. The sound isn't loud or clear enough to alert the human, but your sensitive ears are able to hear it perfectly and it's enough to snap you out of whatever spell you were trapped in. 

He blinks rapidly with his one functional eye, the stone beside him now darkened to its previous shade of navy blue as you freeze and turn away from him, returning to the water with an abrupt and unkind movement. You keep your head above the surface however, staring at the heavy clouds forming more and more in the vastness above, feigning indifference to everything that has happened while your heart still thunders in your chest. 

"A storm is coming." Is all you say, praying to any divine being that may exist that your expression is as serene and calm as you are trying to pretend. 

The Captain - Aemond - is standing in the same position, looking at you with that stupid face, so confused and hesitant, as if trying to figure out what he had done wrong. 

"Uh... I don't -"

He tried to reach out, tried to touch your hand as it floated above the waves, but you jerked away from him, sending him a narrowed, warning look, sharp fangs bared in a loud hiss.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, and your voice is venomous to him, for the first time. It hurts you to see the surprise on his face, the silent beginning of that realization that you could be a dangerous thing after all. You are.

It hurts, but you welcome the feeling. It is all your fault. If you hadn’t been so reckless, none of this would have happened. This human would meet his inevitable death at the claws of one of his sisters without the knowledge that you existed. Without you having experienced being in his presence, feeling his touch on your skin, having his attention entirely on you. It would be easier, for both of you.

Aemond Targaryen was every rule of survival that you ignored. 

It was like one of those Greek tragedies that humans talked about so much. 

The storm is approaching quickly and with it the end of this Captain and his sailors. The horde of sirens was aware of their presence, as it had been for days, just waiting for nature to intervene to create the perfect scenario for the attack. It would be reported later as a shipwreck, an unfortunate accident at sea that could easily be dismissed without suspicion. There was nothing you could do to stop it, even if you wanted to. And gods help you, you want to. 

But you can’t save him. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

You stare at the dark cloud formation above once more, taking a deep breath to control the frightening wave of emotions that threatens to break your nerves. 

“Why not?” he asks, sensing the warning in your voice, and you shake your head slightly, eyes filling with tears — tears you haven’t shed since you earned your Ocean's Tear. He calls your name and you still don’t respond. “Y/n, tell me why I shouldn’t be here.” 

He presses, a little harder now, a little more concerned, and you should respond. You should warn him about the dangers that lurk in the depths of the ocean and the bloody future predestined for him and his sailors. He deserved that much at least, right? But then again, what good would that do? What good would there be in knowing about a tragedy he can't avoid?

"I'm so sorry." You sigh without looking at him, shoulders shaking with emotions that seem too big for your body to handle. "I'm really sorry..." your voice breaks and a tear runs down your cheek as you look up at him, the sparkling freckles on your cheeks highlighted and your brows furrowed in anguish.

"...What?" He's confused, of course, not understanding the whirlwind of events that followed your contact on the ship. He senses your anguish, your reluctance to tell him what needs to be said. And, gods, he looks so beautiful like this. Icy breeze blowing his silver locks in front of his face, his eye bright and his skin pale as moonlight. "Why are you crying? Please talk to me."

You slowly approach the edge of the deck again, where he's kneeling, still waiting for you. Your chest is tight and your hands are shaking, but you think you’ll tell him. You think you’ll tell him what you know will happen, even if you’re both powerless to fight the forces of fate. He looks at you, his calm and captain’s confidence taking over again, reassuring you. Your lips part to start to speak, but the sound of approaching footsteps sends a chill down both of your spines. 

You hesitate for a second, staring at him with wide eyes. Aemond is also alert, allowing himself to look at you one more time before saying:

“Go, now! He can’t know about you!” He’s right. No human could know about you and still be alive. But here you were, staring at one you didn’t intend to kill. “Wait-” He keeps his voice low as he watches you prepare to go, though his tone is urgent. His gaze is pleading, not wanting to leave you but knowing he has to. “Come back tomorrow, please.” 

You coo, a sad sound, wanting to tell him there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Not for him, at least. But instead, you wrap your smaller hand around his, careful of your claws, leaving a gentle grip on his knuckles as you look up at him with teary eyes. 

“Take care, Captain Targaryen.” That’s all you say before you dive into the dark expanse of the ocean, never looking back. You couldn’t. Not when you felt so helpless. The jewel hanging from your neck protests and burns your skin so much that it even tears a grunt of pain from your lips, but you don't stop swimming, powerful fins pushing you as deep into the ocean as you can go. Silently you curse the stupid thing for not giving any sign of life in all these years, but choosing this moment to show that it was there.  

The final act of this tale of tragedy was herep and your human would meet his bitter end at the merciless claws of one of his sisters.

You can't save him.

You can't... 

You... 

You can? 

(And why did you think of him as 'your human' now?)

[nemesyaaa]

from the sea // pirate!rafe cameron x mermaid!reader

summary ; he was the too scary captain of the ship, and you were the too gorgeous mermaid of the sea. you were on his way, he was on your territory.

but mostly, you were not allowed to go on the surface alone since your mother's death because of dangerous and killer men like him. so when you unfollowed the rules of your father, you faced the consequences.

genre ; fantasy blurb. siren x captain dynamic.

warnings ; fantasy story ? possession. rafe has whip scars/and one eye. fear enthousiast. slight of violence. reader is a mermaid with tail. light gun play mentions and using. smut. gaslighting. dubcon. no shells on breasts reader. webbed fingers. lust as a sin.

author's note ; it's a 3k words. no songs inspiration for this one. i just wanted to make a fantasy au.

you were that kind of beauty that aspired to make all men go crazy over you, and it was for this reason that you had taken so many pirates adrift, to their bodies to their ships. you were beautiful and indeed the bewitching and seductive creature that legends and tales spoke of, but you were also the dangerous monster that the captains with monstrous scars on their faces and marks on skin who had survived your man-eating canines were whispering about in the back of a tavern to overly curious and drunk sailors.

you were the wife of all the gods but above all, those who defended their oceans. but only since your mother's death, your father firmly forbade you from going to the surface, either alone or accompanied. you were forbidden by the all-powerful sovereign of the seas. and his law was indisputable because he was the king and the monarchy. one day as his daughter, you will also be the head of the kingdom, and hold the power as him, even if you're not interested in it.

but like all girls your age, you had trouble listening to your father. no, you had this innocent and blind thirst to chase men. and, you had never had an incident before, so what could stop you ? you only had to slip into the clear waves, and let your magical and fairy body disappear through the eddies of the water which made your flowing silhouette as fast and shiny as a shooting star. the feeling of diving into the soft waves that play hide and seek with your sparkling and enchanted tail while the water gently embraced your mermaid skin was always the best.

you were the only dazzling thing of the perfect blue. the sweet and salty waves kissing your nakedness and long mermaid tail illuminated with colorful reflections ran alongside the rest of your bared chest in the flapping of a fin. you looked nothing like a fish that fishermen wanted to eat, but you looked like an underwater creature that captains wanted to capture.

one stormy evening, you decided it was time to go to the surface. you needed to break the rules to survive. with all the youth and rebellion of your free will, you had left the abyssal depths to face the dangerous world.

the sea was raging, and the waves were decidedly uncontrollable and violent. the shadow of a boat disturbed by the marshy assault of the storm on the waves wavered from one end to the other. that meant you were going to be able to have fun. you could also hear from here the agitation of the crew, the fear and the tension building. you easily spotted the captain because he was much taller and broader, the one who didn't frown a single eyebrow, and who remained calm as if it was the storm that should be feared. his voice shouted orders that you couldn't hear because of the raging sounds of the hard weather. he had a parrot on his right shoulder, and bangs stuck to the sweat of his forehead lightly sweeping his face. he looked delicious, you licked your bottom lip, flicking your mermaid tail to move.

you barely lifted your head out of the water in a crashing entry, emerging from the water by sending your hair flying back, a splash of water falling noisily into the waves and attracting the attention of the sailors above of the boat.

“ captain, captain, look !! there’s a siren ! ” said a sailor who pointed a finger toward you.

“ she's gorgeous ! ” replied another.

“ those tits…”

“ stop being horny, that creature can kill you. i don't pay all of you to do all the work so everybody on the ship move his fucking ass before i throw you all on that storm. am i clear ? and if i don't hear a yes right now, i will let that siren eat every single piece of yours. . ” warned the captain with a deep and somber tone.

“ captain yes, yes captain. ” echoed all the sailor voices.

“ man, you can't say that when you have a fucking boner while looking at her. ” commented a sailor.

“ shut your mouth, barry. it's not her at all. ”

“ do you think i'm dumb to think it's one of the men on the ship ? come on, you can lie with that mouth but that hard dick in your pants betrays you. don’t worry, nobody is immune to tits, especially when they're wet as a fucking pussy.”

“ mind your business. ”

“ as you want, captain. ”

a smile appeared on your soppy lips, as you disappeared again into the tormented waves. you had surrounded the ship, swimming only around the boat. you loved it when everyone was fascinated by you, catching with their eyes all your flawless moves as a show.

water being your domain and your home, you took the initiative to do some twirls by immersing your entire body in the water to bring out only your tail as you leaped to the surface with some back flips and observing your audience. you stood on an icy rock, resting your webbed and manicured fingers against the stone.

“ someone is gonna fucking do his work here ? ” shouted the captain. he was actually running out of patience because of his crew being so attracted by the siren. “are you all dumb on purpose ? this is exactly what she wants, to get all of your attention, and kill you. ”

“ captain accept there is nothing you can do. that woman is too stunning. ” cutted one man, literally drooling over his huge beard, giving up his activity for you.

“ do you think she cares about you ? you're just a prey for her. but right, this is not my problem. you can leave my ship and die. ”

once comfortable on the rock, , you begin to open your mouth to sing a sweet song that would bring them as well as this storm to their doom. your voice was just a trap to lure men.

you had no shells on your breasts as the tales loved to tell. actually, you were completely naked from the top, water running down your chest to your mermaid glowing tail. your skin was still cold and damp, like your eyes. but it shone through the moon, and the white pearls on your body lit up every inch of your flesh like stars. you were of a beauty that had thrown more than one sailor into the water. you were in the image of no god, no man, no woman, you were the angel of the sea. you had a throne in every wave, a kingdom wherever you swam.

your hair fell deliberately on your shoulders, and your angelic voice currently pierced all the foam. the storm was raging, and you appeared as their savior, a halo of light projecting above you to cover your superb figure. you were beautiful and unrealistic like a work of art.

when you weren't expecting it, one of the men you had guessed to be the captain had lowered a boat. he was certainly tall and imposing, a long coat covering his entire frame, and immense leather boots with roughly tied laces on his feets as he approached you. he had a pistol stuck in his glistening and leathery belt, and above all an eye patch over his face. you took a look at the cross scar hidden in his shirt of which you only saw the scary top of the burned mark of the probably iron.

he rowed up to you, until you felt his scent replacing the salty smell of the sea. you quickly understood that there was nothing like the other men you had managed to charm. not unlike the others, this man seemed to be able to corrupt anyone, men and women, humans and mermaids alike.

he placed his boat near the rock to look at you more closely.

“didn’t your father warn you not to come near men like me? i’m sure he did gorgeous, i bet you’re just not smart enough to listen to him. ”

you backed away but he put his gun on the tip of your tail to stand you still, making you shake. “y’know what that means? I’m in charge here. ”

“let me go!” you responded, waving your tail limply, but he pushed his finger against the trigger of his gun to scare you.

"you'll leave when i decide. so stand still because from now, all your rules are made by me. ”

“you should fear my father, he will kill you.” you replied.

he laughed in a mocking tone, and moved closer to you with a smirk. “you could kill me too though, couldn’t you mermaid ? but look at you, shaking like prey ready to die by my hand.”

“are you going to kill me?”

“ is this a question or a wish ? or maybe a dirty mermaid fantasy ? ”

“i don’t want to die.”

“If that pretty mouth can sing like it does then it can beg too, don’t you think? If you want me to spare you, you’re gonna have to be a bit more convincing.”

he lowered his gaze towards your glossy and watery body, his weapon buried in the flesh of your stomach, before slightly moving up to your breasts, your nipples arching against the gun. you shivered at the contact of the metal against your skin.

he slid the gun up to your throat, pushing the barrel against your vocal cords. you coughed, and placed a hand around his.

he had sworn "oh fuck...legends don't tell all the things siren can do to a man…"

your webbed fingers, surrounded by tiny fins, had found their effect on him. you looked so sweet and innocent, but you were a creature who knew how to be machiavellian so he had to keep an eye on you.

“you don’t want to die?” he asked, repeating your words.

rafe was not a man of morals, he made fun of laws and conventions. and above all, why would he deprive himself when a beautiful mermaid was willing to do whatever he wanted just to be spared.

you were desperate, and frighteningly attractive. rafe would be lying if he said it didn't stimulate him. his cock was clearly hard and painfully stretched against the leather of his pants, forming a bulge just below his belt. and it was starting to be so uncomfortable. he only wanted one thing, it was to fill your soppy mouth surrounded by divine dripping lips until he felt your throat tighten around his dick, because his girth prevented the air from passing into your cavity.

oh yes rafe cameron was cruel. he wanted you to die, but in a completely different way.

and what he wanted, he got. he was a captain admired and respected by all and who had a high reputation both on the seas and on land. he was rich and miserly. he had as much money as he had girls.

he pulled down his pants, freeing his thick length to reveal it before your eyes. you'd be lying if you said you'd seen one before. It was the first time you saw something that big, it was terrifying. you didn't even know what this sailor wanted you to do with it so you looked at him with curious and desperate eyes.

oh that innocence burning in your gaze had shot a charge through rafe's body and his cock had twitched, letting precum drop on your face and the blood inside him completely heated.

"open your mouth...yes, like that. show me your tongue, i'll help you, gonna tell you how to do it.”

he had thrust himself into your mouth before giving you instructions, telling you how to make him feel good, while his dick found a way to your throat. you were even wetter inside than a real woman and it felt perfect and insane. you started to suck him, your lips vibrating around his throbbing girth that stuffed you real quick.his tip was slightly salty from the precum dripping from it that you had swallowed, making the ship captain above you groan.

pushed by his grunts and his tight grip through your hair, you pumped him faster because you were starting to understand how it worked. he never tired of your lips that foamed, and fully encircling his cock which as you licked got bigger and bigger, your naked tummy spiraling as the growing feeling.

with one hand, he had plunged himself completely into you, your head completely trapped between his firm fingers, and your nose buried in his pelvis. you gagged on him, a spurt of drool coming out of your mouth when he pulled out, as you gurgled strongly . your saliva hung from his glistening tip down the length of his hardened dick, all the way to his heavy balls.

he re-positioned himself inside you, his massive dick now dripping inside your soaked mouth as you continued to suck and lick with the fear knotting in your stomach of being killed. but you could feel that his body was relaxed, his muscles were loose, and you could hear every deep sound of pleasure coming from his lips.

he was both fascinated and over the moon, because your wetted tongue twirling around his hot cock was perfect. oh if he could have fucked you, he would have. he couldn't help but fantasize about how he would have fucked you on this rock, his large hands on your tits caged them like bra and pressing them against his thick fingers that would easily crushed them.

he also loved how your throat was so capricious, clenching around him while your tongue hungrily brushed his entire growing bulge. the feeling was intense, and you could hear his breaths become harsh.

that's what he liked about corruption, you were too good for him, a creature blessed by all the gods who had nothing to do with a mortal as rich as him, because you were too divine , too wonderful but at that moment, you were in the same rank. you were at his mercy.

you placed your wet hands on his hips, leaving trails of water on his body and impressive marks of whip that left scars on his skin. rafe could have sworn it was the gentlest touch in the world. the tiny fins around your fingers, tracing the straight line of his waist, down to his firm ass as you sucked him to death, drove him so crazy with your long soaked tongue that made him gasp.

and even if he was not a believer, he was convinced that heaven could not be so wonderful.

a few minutes later, his dick had convulsed around your mouth, and you felt large hot streams filling your throat down to your tummy. you swallowed, and he smiled before stroking your hair gently.

“ good job, little mermaid. don’t you deserve a reward for that ?”

you didn’t really know what that meant but you nodded.

he had taken a long pearl necklace from his pocket. “turn around. let me help you. ”

and you complied. he had hung the expensive and luxurious jewel around your neck, the length of which was so long that he had to make several turns until a hundred white pearls covered the entirety of your bust, dangling around your handsome tits.

“do you know what that means?”

you moved your head to say no, and he responded. “that now you belong to me. you’re my prized possession. you need to understand that now you can't leave. without me. ”

he had found a treasure and he was going to keep it. after all, he was a pirate, he stole everything the ocean had. and sirens were not an exception to the rules.

“i want to see my father.”

“mermaid, you are mine, and mine only.” he responded while caressing your soppy cheek. “ you don't need your dad anymore, just me. ”

you lifted your gaze to meet the most beautiful blue eyes you ever met. he was handsome as the devil, and you couldn’t deny it. but you were a mermaid, you belonged to the ocean, not to a man.

you tried to run away but he stopped you by placing his leather boot on your mermaid tail with a smirk, before leaning forward to grab you by the throat, your upper body was arched, his biceps caged your vocal cords tightly, his thick fingers pushed further in your mouth to forced you to behave, your drool dripping over your hanged jaw.

“what did I tell you about making silly moves, huh? behave, unless you want to die. you know what’ll happen if you act up? what you did earlier, with that pretty mouth, we’re gonna do it again. except this time instead of my cock, it’ll be my gun and if you stop, I shoot. And I know you don’t want that, right?”

" no…”

“ yea ? better to be alive. ”

you nodded. because it was true.

"now i have my men waiting for me. but don't worry, you're coming with me.”

“ that's a kidnapping — ”

“ do you think i care ? because listen to me, i don't fucking care. do you know what it means ? that you can pout, cry, scream, whatever tantrum you want to shout, it will not change anything. ”

you shivered when his hands stroked your shoulders, the icy metal of his silver rings brushing your skin. “ don't you want to be cherished ? see that world ? look up, because it can be yours. ”

“ you're not afraid that i can eat you ? ”

“ didn't you see my scars ? i fear nothing, even if you dig those canines in my skin, you will be the only one to be scared of what i can do to you. because babe, be mean to me, i dare you to, and i will be meaner. ”

“ where are your scars coming from, they're huge. and it's not sirens. ”

“oh, it’s a horrible story for a little mermaid like you. stick to your fairytales. so are you gonna come with me willingly or do we have to do things the hard way?”

“ sound like a trap. ”

“ sound like you're smart. ” he mocked.

“ i'm gonna follow you. but don't be too happy, my dad will find you before sunrise. so you're soon a dead man. ”

“ such a mean baby, already wishing that i'm dead. but careful, don't make me correct that mouth myself. it's not the kind of thing you will like. ”

“ because there is a good thing you can do with my mouth ? ” you were curious.

you turned your gaze toward him, and he lifted a brow, not believing your words. “ mermaid, you never kissed a man ? ”

“ show me what kissing is. ”

“ Why would I kiss the mouth that curses me ? ”

“ Should i ask those men on the ship? ”

because of his possessive side, categorically refusing to share you with his crew full of grotesque men, he had leaned down to grab your jaw and press his lips against yours.the feeling was so strange, but your mermaid tail was waving on the cold stone. “seems like you enjoy being kissed. ” he said, as his tongue swirled with yours. “ want to be kissed endlessly ? yea ? then don't make me repeat myself and move that fucking tail to the ship. ”

[darkdemeter]

・issue #--・ 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄

⚤ Dark Pirate!Bucky Barnes x Siren!Female Reader Pirate Bucky — semi dark Bucky — submissive/soft captive reader — possessive Bucky — SMUT 18+, Minors DNI! — P in V sex — memory loss/wiping via magic (reader affected) — light use of physical and sexual acts to avoid conflict — indirect breeding kink? — pet names — brief consumption of alcohol — I think that's it? ✎ 4.1k He is your captain. There is no place you'd rather be than by his side, nothing you could ever want for that is not him. You owe everything, your entire self, to him. Yet overboard and on the tide you sail across, in search for a great and ancient treasure, a song continues to seep through the cracks of your heart and soul… a song so familiar yet unknown. Forgotten. Bucky reminds you yet again that there is no place else for you that isn't beside him, that there is nothing out there.

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

  There lays a song forgotten in your heart and soul, distantly faint as the receding tide to the shore. With each spare moment of peace you were given to dwell beneath the lapping waters, you spend a portion of it in search of that song. And what time remains within the falling sand’s glass, you bask in the blue and faded black abyss. 

  Tonight is no different. You could not remember the forgotten song that lulls you tenderly, pulling through skin and scale, calling you somewhere far, much too far, away from the balancing hull above. 

  You could not abandon your captain. Betray the trust between you both. After all, it was he who found you washed atop the rocky crevices of the island, who rescued you from a fate of drying out in the sun’s merciless heat. Who took care of you when there was nothing left of the life you once knew. 

  To break that earnt trust, to betray him, you can’t think of anything far more heartbreaking than that. 

“Time’s up, my Siren,” the voice of your captain beckons you. He calls you to the surface. 

  A sigh ripples through the water and your head tilts up towards the surface, the darkened slits in your milky white eyes shrink away from the moonlight penetrating through the waves. The long limb of your tail sweeps back and forth, thrusting you upwards, skin and scales shimmering brighter as you near the barrier between water and air. The breach pulls a lungful gasp of the night's chillingly crisp air, the only warmth coming from The Avenger. 

  Hair drench-pressed and thinned forms a curtain over your features as you peer up at the looming figure pridefully arching over the ship’s wooden rail. The slivered slits of your eyes grow wider as they focus on him, with a lantern beside him, glass scorched and worn by smoke, it illuminates the upper portion of his body. His white shirt ruggedly wrinkled and loosened to showcase a muscled chest, skin tanned by the sun’s heated kiss, sleeves rolled to the elbow, black ink painted legendary stories over his body in memorabilia. Stories forged into his flesh for all to study and cower in fear.

  He summons you with a kink of his finger and you obey his silent command with an all too eager nod. Around you, the water spirals into a column and rises up, pushing you higher to reach the wooden railing. Aboard the ship, the crew is merry in their celebrations. Another successful day of conquest and battle on the high seas, another amassed sum of gold and valuables to add to hull and reputation. 

  Of course spirits would be high and cheerful tonight. And of course, what was a conquest without the captain’s prize at the end of it all?

  Gathering yourself over the rail and onto the deck, the glistening shine of your tail morphs into two shapely legs, the milky hues of your eyes and other remnants of your true body hide in their human disguise. Your eyes find the hourglass on his opposite side, the sand all gathered in the bottom glass pit. Your captain holds something out for you and you graciously accept his gift, pulling the thin veil of your robe over your naked body. 

  His ocean blue eyes scan you up and down, the left corner of his plush, chapped lips turns upwards. 

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He purrs his question and it brings a cold chill to run up and down your spine, your lungs freeze with what little breath they had at that moment. 

  He turns his body properly to face you, burly shoulders and thick muscles straining the fabric of his shirt. His eyes fold slightly into a sharpened stare of interrogation. 

  “I–I don’t…” You shake your head, breath hitching. “I don’t understand, Captain. I search for nothing that is not you.”

  “Aye?” 

  Your gaze drops to the limb of his remaining flesh hand, the other limb itself brings an uncomfortable yet hazy familiarity, you dare not to look at it up close when in the awoken presence of his intimidating stature. Often you would question its being there and admire its raw and unique - mystical - materials, when your captain lay beside you fast asleep. 

  Wrapped tightly over and under the callousness of his palm, the golden chain twinkles in the pale moonlight, the larger pearl at its centre holstered by binding gold and tinier pearls, beneath the gilded net a more refined shape of a pearl dances on its link. 

  However, your mesmerised pupils flicker up in an instant, brought to the attention of your captain awaiting your obedient answer. A noise is pitched in your throat with the answer but it dies swiftly before its deliverance. 

  Your vision focuses behind him then, up near the ship’s helm, her fingers lace slowly in their hypnotic movement as the fabric of her scarlet magic is weaved together. A warning. You do your best to hide the distressed visage of fear, batting your eyelashes and brushing aside the death of your verbal response, you bow your body forward submissively to his that towers over you.

  When your lips touch his, he almost instantly devours yours in a hungry kiss, the soft caress of your fingers tracing the curves of his chest brings pride and lust to possessively reel you into him, your nude front colliding against the hardened wall of his own. 

  Your hands run their course of exploration up the swollen bulk of his arms until they find purchase and entangle themselves in his dark locks. His own hands ravage your body, kneading the flesh and slim muscle of your hips.

  He groans when you submit to his overpowering will, mouth parting to his eager tongue that shoots forward like a fired cannon, aimed to dominate you in every sense of the word. Your soft whimpers beneath him bring him unimaginable pleasure, the sort that drives him to seek it evermore, with no seeming end to his insatiable hunger for what is you; your entire being. Wolves are known to be ravenous beasts. It’s why he’s known by the moniker as the White Wolf. 

  His tongue fiercely dances over yours, swirling and his bottom teeth tease you by nipping your lip, earning a high pitched squeal from you. He chuckles, the sound rich and dark in its intention. Your core comes alight, burning hotly and the once cool air dissipates as heat courses through every vein and nerve in your body, your mind swimming in the ocean pools of his eyes. Eyes that at times are the only thing you need to be connected to the sea. 

  The prominent tent of his erected endowment presses against your stomach and lower abdomen. You finally pull away, however, in his caging embrace it’s not very far you’re able to move back. 

  “Wait for me in my cabin, little Siren,” he orders gruffly. Your mouth falls agape and you sputter in your rattled confusion. 

  “But I—” Still he penetrates you with that cold stare. It prods at you with radiant intensity, it matches the ominous scarlet glow that now burns brighter now as it moves down the upper deck’s stairs. Your eyes dart between the woman who controls the rolling waves of red magic and the ferocity of your captain’s hardpressed gaze. 

  Your head bounces quickly. “Yes...” 

  A few words of compliance are cut off by a gasp. As you attempt to follow his order and return to his cabin, he halts you within his metallic grasp and pulls you back in, curled lips mere inches from your own, in the clutches of his brazen hold, he commands your attention. Your hands are forced to rest over his chest. 

  He drawls with a warning growl, “Yes?”

  “Yes, Captain Barnes.”

  Bucky nods his head once and lets you go, his eyes flicker between the cabin door and you, silently instructing you to hurry along. Your bare feet barely make a sound over the wooden deck in your traversal towards the cabin, where you would await your captain to claim his prize. Treasure that he greedily gets to have all to himself. The conquest he takes glee in ravishing himself full of. 

  Once you’re tucked inside, exactly where he wants you, Bucky scratches at his stubbled jaw, his recent shave already beginning to grow in again. Wanda approaches his side, the fabric of her magic ceasing at her fingertips like embers passing over into lowly ashes. 

  “That was a close one,” Bucky growls, his tongue that savours your taste runs over his teeth. She hisses with a hushed tone, “With each outing she is given to delve into the sea, my magic weakens, Captain.”

  His eyes roll to glare at the woman beside him. She sighs with a bow of her head, eyes downcast as to not provoke him into thinking her words a challenge. 

  “All I mean to say is that you must reinforce her rules. She’s beginning to suspect far too much, and with each piece of recollection, my power is sapped by her own. Enforce her rules once more.”

  Bucky’s shoulders shrug upwards with an all too arrogant huff, haughty in his conviction. He idly tilts his flesh hand, admiring the piece of you he has wrapped up in his iron grasp. 

  “She will do well to keep in mind her place. She’s intimidated.”

  “She’s conflicted, Captain.” Her words bring about a scowl to Bucky’s face, lips coiled into a snarl and nose wrinkling, eyes thinning. “And it will be a matter of time before she is free of you, and you will be known as the captain who lost his siren.”

  The bridge of this knowledge leaves Bucky in a state of strife. An aspect to his notorious reputation was garnered by your captivity. The White Wolf known by all as the fearsome pirate captain who tamed a siren; held you in the oyster of his clutches. If he did lose you, then his reputation would be suffering a heavy loss. As if to sense his change of demeanour, her hands raise up with her glowing, magic tipped fingers. His nostrils flare and the harsh prestige that made him a force not to be trifled with, he commands,  “Do it.”

  Bucky struts off with a roll of thunder beneath his leather worn boots, swiping up a half drunk bottle of rum and swallows an animalistic gulp, joining in on the festivities of his crew. Wanda observes her captain for a moment before diverting her attention towards the cabin. Her hands fold over one another, and with her palms outstretched, the scarlet hue dances through the air in a thin, cloudy blanket, searching and finding the miniscule gap beneath the wooden door. 

  He pummels into you until your back pushes far into the mattress, eliciting sharp whines and sultry moans from your parted lips, breath caught in a pattern of shallow pants. He chases after his second high as he drives his cock deep into you, the sound of skin slapping skin perverts the cabin’s air and already you begin to feel your core tremble in its own pursuit for its fourth orgasm. With each powerful snap of his hips, his throat chokes out a grunt in his exertions, the girth of his cock sinks deep into the channel of your hot, velvety cunt. 

  “Fuckin’ hell,” he growls lowly with a hiss, “so fuckin’ tight! You feel so good, you’re— taking me so well.” 

  With an exceptionally powerful rut of his hips and he has you on the precipice of screaming, thighs quivering in their hold around his waist, heels digging into the dip of his large, muscular back. Any coherent thoughts and words die on the vine of your vocal cords, only able to procure sounds of pleasure, to chant his name over and over again. 

  “Captain Barnes!” you mewl with fervour. Bucky’s chest vibrates with a husky chuckle. “That’s right, scream my name, let the crew hear you, Love. Let them hear how drunk you are for my cock.” 

  His one palm is laced with sweat, thick and roughened fingers squeeze yours in a passionate display of his dark possessiveness over you. Your captain could be very jealous when another’s eyes lingered on you for even a second too long, many others had suffered the brunt of his fury - weapons ablaze - and you in the end suffered the brunt of his envy with his cock pounding into you for the next several hours. 

  To remind you to whom it was you belong to. 

  His lips suckle one of the erected peaks of your breasts, moaning as his tongue leaves a wet trail around it before passing over to the second to repeat the treatment. Your head turns to the side sharply when the head of his cock splits you open even further than you could previously imagine, hitting a hidden crevice that leaves you without breath. 

  He gauges your reaction, the colour of your eyes blurring, phasing between the natural milky white canvases and the hue of your disguise, your canines and incisors now elongated, all because of the pleasure that pools at the junction where your bodies meet. But for a moment, you catch the glimmer of gold still wrapped around his hand, glimmering metal gnawing and rubbing across his skin, you’re torn between your euphoria and clouded curiosity. 

  “Say it again,” he grunts with a hard thrust that makes his muscles ripple insanely beneath his skin.

  “C’mon, say it for your captain, Love.” 

  Your lips and tongue drag across the flesh of his wrist, the pulse of his racing heart beats through, you can almost taste the rhythm. His sweat tastes strong with his musk, a strong flavour of the salty sea, sandy beaches and gunpowder. 

  You moan softly, almost in a whisper, “Captain… C-Captain Barnes.”

  The effect you have on him is indescribable to him. Never has he been able to put it into words, all he can do is feel it; carnally. The repetitive pounding into that deeper and sweeter spot has your back arching up, the smooth layer of your sweat covered body rubs against his, able to feel each defining muscle, he uses his metal hand to grip hold of one of your thighs, angling you so that you’re spread further apart for him. Your eyes begin to fall heavy and roll back into your skull in your drunken haze, the shimmer of scarlet presently blooms from time to time in them.  

  “That’s right. You belong to me, little Siren. It’s my cock that has you dripping wet.” His thrusts become faster, losing the precise edge he had before, his climax inevitably as close as your own. Your nails embed crescent moons into the skin of his one hand while the other bites into his shoulder. 

  “I’m the only man— fuck! The only man who gets to have you like this. Shit… shit. ’M going to fill you up.” 

  “Please, please… Cap—”

  “Aye, I’m going to fill you up, have you nice ‘nd full until my cum is leaking out of your little cunt, Siren. Fuck… you want that, don’t you? I know you do.” 

  You gasp with each attempt to breathe, each push and pull of his cock strikes you like a match to light the powder keg, the explosion of your climaxes comes as a white hot flash in your vision, momentarily blinding you. Your hot walls squeeze around his large endowment, forcing him to thrust back and forth even harder, grunting hot breaths against the shell of your ear. 

  His seed is flushed into the channel of your pussy in thick, seething spurts that paint your walls that milk him for every precious drop. 

  What he gives makes your lower abdomen weigh a little heavier, a little bit fuller than you were before. His hips grow slower with each dissipating explosion from his tip. His large chest expands hugely with every intake of air to his lungs before deflating as a pleased groan. 

  In his reverie of contentment, having had his fill of his prize - for now - he withdraws his softening cock from your pussy, a moistened pop echoes in the emptiness of your thoughts. Bucky rolls off of you to lay at your side, atop the furs and silken drapes of the bed. Before you can make a move he uses his metal arm to drag you in closer, tucking you into his side, the coldness of his fingers skimming the delicate texture of your arm. 

  The soothing rock of the ship is enough to lull you to sleep, the lids of your eyes inching closer and closer together. 

  “Still deny that you found nothing?” 

  His question only brings your brows to knit together. You shake your head and huddle closer into his side, basking in the comforting warmth of his body. Why on earth would he ask you such a silly question? As if there was anything of importance that outranked him, by being at his side. 

  The answer you give is instant in its resolve, “I don’t understand, Captain. I needn’t find anything out there… I have you.” 

  Your answer, though unable to see it from your position, pleases him and his lips curl into a toothy smirk, long sweeps of his dark brown hair tousled about in his post sex state. You lay your head against his chest to hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, eyes closing to seek rest and refuge in the arms of your beloved captain. The man that grants you safety, that promises you nights of passion followed by the comfort of his body next to yours. All he asks in return is your loyalty. Your devotion.

  For you to be his siren. 

  Behind the blurry curtain of sleep layered over your eyes, you awaken and by your estimation, only for around an hour or maybe a little more. The morn still hasn’t risen over the ocean’s horizon, the moonlight shimmering and shining over the waves. The candlelight that bathed the cabin with a sensual atmosphere had now burnt out. 

  Breaths of deepened sleep sound next to you, the chiselled sculpt of his chest you’d used as a pillow takes steady form, as he sleeps. It makes you wonder as to what he dreams about, sometimes a scowl is etched into his attractive visage and he becomes restless, leaving you to somehow comfort him. And other times, mostly after he’s spent drawing orgasm after orgasm from the two of you, he finds respite. 

  You take the time to thoroughly yet delicately rub your eyes, robbing the tiredness of its hold to take you once more. With a tilt of your head, hair coming over your shoulder to graze the top of your breasts, his other hand lay out over the bed, residing just over the edge. 

  The mysterious object that somehow you know is linked with you, but as to how or why, or its significance to you in any case, is still laced around his calloused palm. Despite its odd gleam of familiarity, you believe this is the first time you’ve seen it before, however, the tiny voice in the back of your mind says otherwise. Then you must have seen something like it before somewhere. 

  Something deep in the recess of your heart, you have to know. Is this somehow linked to the estranged longing to a home you can’t remember? Does this necklace bind you to the lost melody of times erased from your memory?

  You take caution in moving carefully, inching your way to lean over the sleeping form of your captain, skin brushing skin, you slowly rotate your hips and hoist a thigh over his waist. Heated crimson flushes into your cheeks as you analyse your newfound position, but also from the way his body stirs lightly, still enraptured by sleep yet his body adjusting to your core lining over his naval. 

  Thawed from your frozen idle of panic, you take a moment to calm the racing of your heart that hammers vigorously against your chest, your nimble fingers reach out towards his flesh hand that clings protectively to the mysterious necklace. 

  This almost feels… too easy. You swallow a silent gulp, fingers grazing against his palm when his body shifts, bumping up into yours, you pull your reach back so fast, your hand slaps against his ribs, doing your best to cover up your true intentions. His stills beneath you once more and your shoulders fall lax with a sigh of relief. 

  Again you dare another attempt to grab the necklace, this time you don’t risk breathing, holding it for what seems like forever until your lungs begin to swell with an ache that makes them feel like bubbles about to burst. 

  You work the chain until it's loosened and finally allow your held breath to escape you, the strain to remain silent proving far more difficult than you would have liked. The weight of your body shifts backwards, now sitting up, you allow your eyes to take in every detail of the object in your hands. The gold chain is light, ghostly as it graces your hands, your fingers lace and loop it around amidst the process of your conjuring thoughts. 

  Like a puppeteer pulling the strings you raise the necklace up by its precious thread. The pearl encaged by its makeshift net swings from side to side, as though even when you are completely still, it has a soul of its own accord. 

  Everything you knew about pearls is forfeit, the identity of this one brings the bevel between your brows to form in thoughtful wonder. Therein lies the piece of some puzzle, the missing notes to the melody to which you only recall the faint rhythm of the song. 

  It has to mean something of greater importance. But if it did, then why is your captain so adamant to dismiss your curious nature to find the answers?

  As if the pearl itself is the key, you hear within your heart and soul the song. Voices sing a tone that is calming to your senses, a sweet and endearing lullaby meant for you to hear whenever you find yourself in the loneliest of places, in the darkest reaches of the ocean, the connection will bring you somewhere you call home. 

  But your home is The Avenger. Aboard the ship with Captain Barnes. The man known as Bucky to his closest inner circle. So why do the voices mingling with the tide call you away from all that? With each passing second you become ensnared by the spell of the pearl, the voices of whom you somehow find solace in become louder, the softened chorus of their song echoes a hundred times over in your head. 

  Before you even give pause to reason, your own voice becomes paired with the orchestra of sirens. You have no words, and maybe you never did, all you did need is the pearl to help guide you in remembering the melody. The uncertainty of your humming eases, the unforeseen instructors aiding you, your voice is soft within its deep reverie when it all comes to an abrupt pause, a gasp severing the tune. 

  He has you by the wrist, fingers bruisingly tight and giving you no choice to pull away from him, as he often did whenever he saw you retreat from him without his say so. 

  Bucky’s eyes bear into yours, penetrating the barrier of the necklace, he stares you down the way a wolf does the lonely prey in its path. His eyes match the brooding darkness of a storm at sea, a breed of villainy that threatens those who dare to try him. 

  “Captain…” Your throat bobs with a nervous swallow.  “I– I wasn’t—” 

  Out of pure instinct to not tempt his fury, your hold on the necklace ceases and it gathers in the roughened pad of his palm, large thumb that has caressed your sensitive nub plenty of times now works against the spherical shape of the pearl, brows heavy in their judgement to assess your punishment. His movement is sudden upon the brink of your awareness, a sharp gasp that cuts into the tender muscle of your chest as he plants you flat on your back, hands both of flesh and metal pin your wrists on either side of you until the bruising ache becomes far too unbearable. But you do nothing to voice the level of your pain. He would not hear of it. His newly erected shaft ghosts over your entrance, the beginnings of your slick painting his already drooling tip.  “I’m beginning to think you like breaking my rules, Siren.”

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ a note from the author, Yes. Yes... YAAAAS! IM DOING IT! I'm frickin' writing a pirate Bucky! Mmmm! Fuckin' love pirate stuff, I'm just living for Bucky being a hot pirate commanding a vessel on the high seas.

on this issue's taglist, we've got: @identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic

[the-kr8tor]

A Pearl

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Siren! Reader

Word count: 6.1k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing and siren traits), pirate AU, Siren AU, CW blood, TW death, CW eating human flesh, CW injury, CW food mentions, CW alcohol mention, Pirate captain! Hobie, a touch of hurt/comfort, Fluff!

Requested by @brokeaesthetic — Hello, this is my first time sending a request to you. Hopefully this is a good one to request for my first time. Okay, hear me out Sea clay & Epsom salt in a heart-shaped bottle❣️. Okay, so reader is a siren and Hobie is a pirate. And for many years reader has lured sailors, pirates and fishermen to a watery grave. But one day, when a pirate ship sails into her territory, she prepares herself about to lure them in until she sees Hobie and she's immediately infatuated. She stalks the ship for a couple days before hobie notices. Like something falls overboard, and she throws it back up. He thinks She probably wants something so she he throws down something shiny for her to keep. But she takes that as flirting(she has a huge crush now). So when one day the ship is attacked and Hobie falls overboard, she saves him. And then he develops feelings blah blah blah. I actually wanna draw this😭😭

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Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Your siren song echoes throughout the fog-covered sea. Together with your kind, you lure seafarers into their watery graves with your angelic voice that pushes them into a haze until their bodies splash overboard. With each tone you sang, more bodies hit the cold depths below. As the fog dissipates, so is your cover. Diving below before the survivors catch wind of what transpired, you swim towards the nearest drowning sailor.

Bubbles rise up from his lips, and you swim faster towards your meal. Another siren comes your way, and you have to hiss and bare your sharp teeth at her so you'd get your food. As she tries to fight back with her own growl, you smack her away with your tail, fighting for what's yours. With a yelp from the other siren, you don't waste time sinking your teeth into their fleshy neck.

Warm crimson flows from their skin, body thrashing against your own but your sharp nails dig further and further into their body as you eat your fill. Suddenly, their eyes turn the shade of seafoam, and his body is still. You open your maw and you bite into him.

This has been your life ever since your kind was forced to flee into the deep waters of the sea. Food is scarce, fish and birds shy away from the small rocky islands you've called home so you're forced to eat naive sailors rather than starve.

As you leave the cold waters and into dry land, your tail ebbs away to make way for a pair of legs. Shaking off the salty water, you head into your cave, hands wiping away all the blood and guts from your lips. Your home is small, cozy and away from the others. You keep tiny trinkets picked up from the waves, some you've taken from unlucky sailors. The wind chime you've made yourself that's filled to the brim with shiny human things twinkle in the night. The sound helps you sleep, the various knick knacks are the only things that keeps you going. It's survival of the fittest out in the open ocean, especially when you're being hunted down to extinction.

As you lay your head to sleep, you dream of better things where you don't have to hide amidst the rocks and the salty waves.

A loud rambunctious commotion wakes you up in the middle of the day. Their loud cheering can be heard from far away out into the sea. With bleary eyes, you blink at the odd ship, its red sails earning a curious tilt from your head.

You're still full from your last meal, there's no fog to hide you if you so desire to lure them. And surely you can't go back to sleep now that you're fully entranced by the hooting and hollering out in day break. Usually seafarers are quiet around these parts, only the eerie songs about the lingering death hidden beneath the waves are sung on deck can be heard at any hour of the day.

So with a curious raise of your brow, you head back into the sea. It's against better judgement, and you're in danger of getting caught or worse if you're ever found, but if you're careful enough, you'll find out more about humans than anyone in your kind has ever known about. Maybe you'll learn their tongue too.

Racing against the tides, you make it to their ship in quick time. You raise your head above water, enough to take a peek and listen in on their conversation.

“I told you our captain can do it!” An excited voice exclaims. “Three fucking cheers for the crimson spider!”

A roaring cheer echoes out, and it has you more curious than ever at who this captain could be. You spot the anchor dangling just above the water, so with a determined huff, and with curiosity fueling you, you head towards it to climb the ropes holding it up.

Your tail soon turns into a pair of legs, and you climb faster and quieter up on the rough rope. Finally making it above, just below the deck and still hidden from everyone's view, you see a whole crew of pirates dancing and drinking on the deck. Their laughter warms your chest, and their jolly music has you smiling at their human celebration. Whatever it may be.

“C’mon, lads, it was nothin' special.” Someone says, the crew surrounds him, all grinning at the man.

“Nothing special?!” The one with a sloshing cup full of wine says. “You blasted the fucking admiral to smithereens!”

“Ned's right, Hobie, they're going to need a bloody shovel just to scrape him off the floor.” Another happily says, clasping what you surmise is the titular captain. “If it weren't for you, James and I would've died. Not to mention the new crew managing to not piss themselves while getting us all out.” The raven haired woman smiles, nudging him and toasting her cup against his own. “You did good, cap’n.”

“Right, stop inflatin’ my ego.” Hobie, you think that's the captain's name, shakes his head with a smile. He's handsome you think, hands painted with ink that reminds you of sea life, and a face that looks chiseled by the goddess of the sea herself. You've never seen a pirate not quite like him. His smile single handedly brightens up the already merry ship, and instead of toning down the festivities, it loudly continues on. “We still have shit to do!”

“No we don't!” A blonde girl exclaims as she dances with another crew member as music plays.

A bout of laughter follows, and Hobie surrenders and joins in on the party after giving the sea a glance over. He's probably on the lookout for danger while everyone is too busy partying. He's not just handsome too, but also smart and practical as he secretly tosses the wine overboard to remain sober while everyone else drinks their fill.

You grow ever more curious at the captain. His hair stands out, beautiful wicks all tied together in a ponytail to keep the wind from messing it up. His sleeves are rolled up as he navigates the wheel, dozens of ink drawn on his arms, each having different designs that your otherworldly eyes have never seen before. And his eyes, his brown eyes are aglow with happiness, as if he's at his peak in his seafaring life. He doesn't gloat or bask in the compliments, rather, it seems to motivate him more to do better for his crew; unlike the other captains you've seen so far. He truly cares for them like they're his family, they could be as he looks at them all with fondness.

Morning soon dips into the afternoon, orange hues kissing the pleasant blue of the sea. The party is long gone, they've retreated back into their cabins, probably snoring away all the wine they've drunk. Hobie's alone on deck, save for a few pirates snoring on the floors while clutching at wine bottles and even their blunderbuss.

He looks like he's genuinely enjoying the quietness, letting the sea sing to him its primordial song. His hands relax against the wheel, eyes glittering like the water below. Sighing, you admire the captain beneath the orange glow and how it illuminates his handsome features.

You daydream about what life could be for you if you were a pirate sailing the seven seas. Would you even be good at it? Would you find precious treasures on your adventures? And would the captain praise you for your heroics just like the crew have done for him?

A loud clattering of something metallic takes you back to reality. A rolling coin heads your way, threatening to fall into the depths. Hobie follows right behind, boots thumping as quietly as he can but frantic enough to get the coin before it falls.

Your eyes widen, immediately plunging down into the water before he could spot you dangling on the anchor. As you splash down, the coin drops into the sea, its gilded metal glimmering in the water.

“Shit.” You hear his muffled curse.

Without thinking, you scoop up the coin before it plunges down deeper. Admiring the simple thing, you wonder what's so special about it to have the captain run after it in haste. You've seen a hundred of these, and you still have no idea why humans fight to the death just for it. You seem to not think things through as you rise above the water and throw it back on deck. If it was so special to him, you'd rather have it be back in his hands than on your own.

“The fuck?” His shock is evident in his voice. As you hear the familiar footsteps, you duck back inside the water to hide and then you see his face peek from above. His eyes scan the water, finding nothing out of the ordinary. “I thought I heard somethin’”

You can't help but giggle at his confused expression. Bubbles rise up from your smiling lips, and Hobie knits his brow at the weird occurrence.

With curiosity, he throws the coin back into the water and watches it plop down. You catch it underwater, looking up at him as he anticipates for it to jump back up on its own.

He waits and waits, but after a full minute, he leaves the side of the ship. You smile, preparing to throw it back to the deck. But before you could leap, he comes back to take another look, as if he could catch it moving mid air.

You laugh, hands clasped over your lips. He scratches the back of his head, and blinks the tiredness away.

“I'm goin’ bloody bonkers out ‘ere.” He says, going back to the upper deck to steer the ship once again.

“B–Bonkers.” You repeat with your own voice, giggling to yourself at the word. “Bonkers!” Your tail swooshes happily, coin grasped tightly in your palms.

With a teasing look above, watching the ship as it sails, you decide to throw the coin back on to the ship. This time though, you don't hold back. Swimming deeper to gain momentum, you quickly swim back up and leap into the air, and toss the coin right on the highest deck. It hits him right on his head.

His startled scream and the crew's more terrified yells was worth the effort of doing that. A string of curses erupt throughout the whole ship as they wake up one another with their earth shaking screams.

Hobie races to the bannister, but you're already long gone and swimming back to your tiny island, laughing as you swim.

—

Night comes and you're still asleep because of this morning's activities. A startling boom wakes you up, followed by yelling and the crackling of fire. You know the smell well, a mixture of blood and gunpowder floating in the salty sea.

You look outside of your home, finding the same red sails burning and crashing down into the water. Your heart plunges down, and you've got only one person in mind— Hobie. Without sparing another second, you swim as fast as you could towards the fighting. You expertly dodge corals, seaweeds that threaten to entangle your tail and sea life that parts for you. It's further than you thought, but you continue on with hope in mind.

The second you get there, you see fellow sirens gathering and taking chunks out of the ones that have fallen deep enough in the water. There's no saving the ones who are long gone, so you desperately search under the heat of the fire and wreckage for the familiar face.

While you swim around, you see a small dinghy rowing a few ways away from the fight. A single oil lamp guiding them in the dark. As you look closer, you find that it's a handful of Hobie's own crew, and they're fighting a couple of sirens who are trying to grab hold of them to pull them down into the dark depths. You race over to their side, not to go help pick them apart one by one, but to hiss and fight your kind.

With a show of your teeth and a few scratches along their scaly arms, they scramble away, leaving the crew behind. Looking back at them, you find that they're already staring at you with wide eyes. But you don't care as you search each of their faces for the captain, leaping over to the side of the boat as it sways side by side. When you don't find him, hopelessness clings to you like seaweed.

“Ho–Hobie?” You manage to let out with few resistance from your throat. Their faces can't be painted as they look at you with a mix of awe and fear. “Hobie!” Your yell startles them more. But it's effective as the same blonde you saw earlier points back towards the ship where you can briefly see his silhouette still on the deck. “Thank!” Swimming away, you leave the puzzled crew members behind.

Swimming with all your might towards the blaze, your arms are raised in front of your face to protect you against the blaze and the bodies floating around. you leap up into the sinking ship without sparing another minute, legs carrying you towards him the second your feet hit the slippery wood.

Hobie's fighting a much bigger man than him. Both evenly matched as swords clash amidst the flames, and the moon bears witness to it all.

Just as you get closer to them, the man strikes Hobie's side with a dagger that was hidden underneath his sleeve, drawing blood from the captain.

“No!” Your guttural yell takes the assailant's attention, giving you enough time to pounce on him and rip his face with your teeth.

His screams fill the night, and as he falls harshly into the floor of the sinking ship, you quickly make your way towards Hobie's side.

“Wha–who?” He gasps for breath, red staining the floor underneath him.

You point at yourself, “I…will help.” You manage to find the right words to convey your feelings.

“Help?”

“Yes,” grabbing him, you effortlessly carry him over your shoulders. “You will live.” Turning around to look for his crew members, your eyes hone in on the small boat getting farther and farther away. If you tried to swim there with him in tow and him weighing you down, he wouldn't make it. So in a last minute decision, you dive into the water towards your small island.

—

Hobie groans in his sleep, and your hands smell of herbs. You haven't concocted something like this in years, but your memory still serves you right as his wound is healing well. He's still unconscious, but at least he's alive.

None of his crew has come to take him home, so you kept him safe from the other sirens, kept him warm and hydrated by simply wetting his lips with fresh water from a river further into the island. It's been a few days since the fight, and his breathing is much better, and everytime you place your ear by his heart, it beats normally. You might not be human, but you've lived long enough to know about their anatomy. Well, you've eaten their anatomy.

“I…” your brows knit in frustration from not finding the right words. You've been practicing lately so when he wakes up, you can explain yourself to him. “...I eat.” That sounds wrong. “No, I don't eat…you.” You smile after you think that you've translated it correctly. “Yes, no eat.”

Patting his arm gently, you test if you could wake him up. You're growing quite impatient. With a sigh and not even a stir from the pirate captain, you go back to shore to bask in the water. The night is calm and there's no fog or other ships abound, so you sit and wait and watch as the tiny crabs burrow themselves in the sand. The sky stretches before you, stars twinkling beside the moon as you reach up with your hand to look at them between your fingers.

A groan echoes out in the cave, and as you stand up, you come face to face with the captain you've grown fond of.

Hobie's eyes widen at the sight of you. Your scales glow iridescent light from how the moon shines upon you. The makeshift clothes you wear that consist of shells, fishing nets, cloth from broken sails that sticks to you like wet paper, and rope tying it all together has his eyes squirming away to look at your face instead. As if looking at the face of a goddess is way better for his poor heart.

“Hello.” You enunciate.

He doesn't know what to say.

You take his reaction as fear. “Oh no, I will not eat.” Taking a step closer, you expect for him to flinch away but he doesn't. “No eating captain.” Smiling, you're proud of yourself for managing the words.

“Why? Do I not taste good?” He jokes, one that flies over your head. “‘m a bit offended by that, love.”

You slow blink at him. “Love?”

“I think that wasn't very funny either. Sorry.” Hobie chuckles nervously, “why did you help me?”

“Oh I know!” You come closer to him, hands clasped in front of you out of excitement. Pointing at his chest, your smile makes him smile, albeit nervous at how sharp your teeth are. “Bonkers!”

Hobie breaks into a bout of laughter. “You saved me because ‘m bonkers?”

You nod in quick succession. “Yes! And.” Inhaling, you gather all your strength to muster the correct word. “Pretty.” You remember that word from a sailor who once whispered it to you before you sank your teeth in him. “And!” You pat his pockets, he squirms away before you find what you were looking for within a half second. “This!” Showing him the coin, his face morphs into understanding.

“That was you?” You nod and He smiles softly, eyes darting from your face and at the waves as he rubs at his eyes. “And you think ‘m pretty?”

“Yes, and a good cap’n.” You mimic the exact words you heard his crew said to him.

“Now you're the one inflatin' my ego.” He shifts his weight, eyes meeting with your own. “I think you're pretty too.”

Smiling, you giddily bite your lower lip from the compliment. “Thank.”

Hobie chuckles, “you're good at this already, love.” He gestures towards his patched up wound. “And this. Thank you for the help.”

“Thank you!” You grin bigger, and he's slowly getting used to the rows of sharp teeth. *Slowly.

“Right, goddess, I have to build a raft to get to my crew.” He says and you're having a hard time deciphering his words. “Ah shit, you look even more adorable with that confused face.” His tone is laced with endearment.

“Thank you?”

“You're welcome.” He grasps at his injury as he wobbles further into the island.

“No,” you carefully take his hand, stopping him from going further. You're careful not to scratch him with your claws. “They will eat you.”

“Who's they?” As he looks towards the trees, he sees a dozen or so glowing eyes blinking at him. “Fuckin' hell.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” You mumble back.

Hobie side glances at you, lips curling into an unsure smile. “I'll think of something else to do then.” He walks back with you following close by. “For now at least.” Mumbling, he stretches his aching body from the prolonged idleness.

“Morning, they sleep.”

“It's safe in the mornin’?” You nod, a bit unsure but a nod nonetheless. “Alright,” he sighs, stomach grumbling. “Do you have food?”

“Only human.”

Hobie swears under his breath, not completely understanding whether you only have human food for him, or that the only food available is actually human. He has a long night ahead of him.

—

You have grown accustomed to the situation at hand. There's no rest for the wicked now that Hobie is in siren territory. You keep a close eye on them as they watch you with their glowing eyes at night, their appetite is insatiable even though they had their fill a few days ago because of the recent sea battle. Hobie's well enough to craft weapons for the two of you, so he made a spear that he whittled down, and a small dagger that he sharpened just for you. Your claws are the best weapons for you, but you still took it gladly. He made it especially for you so of course you'll keep it. No one has made you anything before, and you cherish it together with the trinkets you've collected over the years.

Days go by, more and more sirens leave you and Hobie alone in your tiny corner in the island as they've given up on hunting him down. You've proved how strong you are over the years of living alone. He's much better now that the wound you've relentlessly tended to has healed in record time. He keeps thanking you for it, but you can sense the melancholy in his eyes everytime he looks towards the sea. There's no sign of his crew coming to rescue him. You feel for him and his longing.

You and Hobie have some sort of schedule now, he picks fruits in the morning, then he teaches you human language in the afternoon after he gathers materials for the raft he's making. You've gotta hand it to the captain, he's quite good at surviving. You guess that he has done this before. And sure enough, when you asked him about it, he told you of a story that he was once stranded on an island, only surviving on fruits and crates of chocolate that had washed up on the shore. You wonder what that tastes like.

You're slowly liking the peace he brings to the island, there's no more petty squabbling between you and the rest of the sirens now that they've fully left the two of you. He's not liking the fruit and nut diet the island has an abundance for him though. Because of the lack of fish and birds that pass through the island, out of fear for the nature of the creatures that live there, other species avoid the place. He has to opt for a less filling meal everyday, it doesn't help much with energy as he needs it in building the raft. But he strives through it, chatting with you as if he's not trying to survive day by day. He even introduced you to fire and the warmth that it brings, not just the destruction you've seen it do.

You're carnivorous in nature, so one day, out of curiosity whilst he boils sea water to drink and roasting tree nuts over the fire, you asked if you could have one of the fruits he's holding onto.

“You can eat?” You point at the brown hairy fruit.

“Yes,” Hobie chuckles as you scooch over to him. Knee to knee as the campfire cackles through the night. The flames make the iridescent scales on your arms and legs sparkle. “It’s called coconut, and it's sweet.”

“No poison?” With the pad of your finger, you curiously touch the white part of it.

“No poison—” he starts to give it to you, only to realize something that might be crucial. “—Actually, it might be for you.” He moves the coconut away from you, worry etched in between his brows.

“Oh.” Your shoulders deflate.

“Sorry, I jus’ don't want my saviour dyin’ from a coconut.”

“I won't die, I'm strong like you.” You proudly say as you poke his chest.

Hobie smiles, the golden flames illuminating his handsome features. “I know you are, pretty. But you're afraid of it bein’ poison and there's probably a good reason for that.”

“Why?” You tilt your head, wide eyes blinking at him.

He can't help but think you're adorable, despite the sharp teeth and nails. “Species usually have a natural fear instinct of things that could kill ‘em.” Chuckling, he shakes his head. “What am I talkin' ‘bout? My mate Ned can explain it better for you, lovie.”

“Are you…” He waits patiently for you to continue. You're still getting used to human speech, but Hobie quickly found out that you're a quick learner. “...afraid of me?” You ask in a small voice, a stark contrast to how you sing your deadly song.

Hobie shakes his head with a gentle smile, palm patting your forearm briefly. “I used to, not anymore.” You've proven your friendliness to him more than once, he knows you're good too.

You feel like the boulder stuck in your throat is gone just from his reassurance. “Thank you, Hobie.” His smile grows wider at how much you've improved with your Language in such a short time. You clear your throat, waking up from a haze when you stared too long at his eyes. “Is Ned a friend?”

“Yeah, you'd love him. He's smart just like you.” Hobie looks into the fire sadly.

“Can you… tell me? About your friends?”

“You want to get to know the crew?” He stares at you fondly, the same look he had towards his crew back then. You nod with a smile, you're all ears. “Alright then.”

He tells you stories of life out in the sea and on land. The places he has been, the people he met and lost. And of course stories about his crew members and how they fought well, what their jobs are on the ship and what they dream of. With each word he utters about them, his face blooms into a more joyous one. But your own smile fades as the realization that he would leave your little island one day— And you in turn. Your heart aches at the thought you'll be left alone again.

Sometimes you wish that you don't understand humans as well as you do for this to hurt less.

—

Days fly by, turning into weeks as you two fall into a rhythm on the island. Each day that passes, Hobie's inevitable departure gets closer and closer, and you're already dreading the day he'll row away from you and the life he built there on the island. Your speech has gotten a lot better than before thanks to Hobie's teaching. In between the busy days and quiet nights, the two of you make time to just be yourselves. No lessons, no building the raft, just laughing at nonsense that Hobie has told you, or telling him stories of your time under the sea. The things you've seen in the depths always have him on the edge of his seat.

He even surprised you one day with a tiny display shelf to place all your collected knick knacks in. The way you jumped up to embrace him almost had him falling down into the waters. And in turn, you made him a necklace made from beads and seashells you've found, he never takes it off since then.

The two of you found affection for the other. A friendship that transcends despite the differences.

Morning comes once again, and the waves come to visit the little island you call home. You feel energized, finally having slept well without waking up in the middle of the night. After taking care of the unconscious captain, and fighting fellow sirens, this was the first time you've actually slept through the night. You're used to waking up to the moon, but with Hobie being with you in your cave, you've also taken to sleeping at night and waking up at the same hours as him. Sure you're missing out on sailors, but there's always scraps left for you in the morning with it floating in the water, small scraps, but food nonetheless. Yet, you're still starving.

Cracking one eye open, you see the empty spot next to you. Jumping out of bed, you worry that Hobie got eaten in the middle of the night, the feeling subsides when you see him weave ropes on the sandy beach.

“Mornin’ pretty.”

“Morning.” Your voice cracks with sleep. “Have you eaten?”

“I have,” he smiles, gesturing at the pile of coconuts he left on the half finished raft. “I didn't see you hunt yesterday. You okay?”

You shake your head without hiding your true feelings. “Starving.”

Hobie can practically feel your weakening form tremble from where he sat. “I can try again with the fish—”

Stepping closer, your irises have grown into slits, teeth bared in front of him. “There's no fish, Hobie.”

Nodding, his breath gets stuck in his throat as you get closer and closer to him. His natural instincts tell him to run. “I think I saw a bird fly over an hour ago, maybe I can—”

Your sudden sobs stun him in place. Cries echoing around the island as you hide your tearful eyes away from him. All your worries collapse on you, add the fact that you haven't eaten in days is a recipe for disaster.

“Shit—” he slowly steps closer, trepidation in each footstep upon the sand. “I don't know, love, maybe I can set up a trap in the water.” With an arm reaching towards you, you quickly step back in a hurry.

“Don't!” You yell, sniffing and wiping away at your tears. “I might eat you.”

Hobie chuckles, tensed shoulders relaxing and trying to reassure you with a single smile. It doesn't work when you frown deeper. “Right,” he walks closer to you, but you walk backwards and into the side of the cave. Now caged in as he cups each of your tear stained cheeks. “I know you won't eat me, love.” His thumb brushes along your tears, wiping it away as you look at him through your sticky lashes. “‘sides, you haven't eaten in days, if you wanted to eat me you would've done it days ago.” Smiling, he tilts his head. “Seriously, I think you don't find me appetisin’”

You sniff, eyes downturned only for him to duck to meet with your eyes. “I'm sorry for crying, I'm just hungry.” Gently laying your head against his clavicle, he chuckles and welcomes your warmth with open arms. “I'm sorry for eating people too.”

“Don’t be, they probably deserved it.” He pats your back while the other cradles the back of your head. “You can have a nibble on my arm—”

You smack his chest lovingly, giggling against his skin. “No.”

“You sure?” Hobie laughs atop your head. “Maybe I can make some sort of sauce to pair with me.”

Chuckling, you embrace him tighter. You don't know when you'll be able to hug him again so you take your time in squeezing him. “I'll survive, don't worry.”

He hums, getting a whiff of sea salt as he presses his nose on your hair. “I don't doubt that, love.”

Eyes closed, you remember the fruits and nuts on the island, maybe if you try it, it might satiate your hunger. You know your kind’s diet didn't always consist of human flesh, but that was before your time. So maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt to give it a nibble.

When he went out to gather more wood for the makeshift raft, you grab a handful of nuts and a coconut from his stash. You sit cross legged inside the cave, heart thudding in your chest. Eyeing your herbs that you placed right next to you just in case you start bleeding out of your eyes, you take a deep inhale and immediately carve out a part with your nail and take a bite out of the fleshy part of the coconut.

Chewing, you let the sweetness spread on your tongue. You don't feel any different than before, no tingling sensation or blood dripping from every orifice. So you swallow down and wait for a minute.

Sitting there frozen, you feel fine. With a bout of loud laughter, you start eating the rest of Hobie's food, waiting a few seconds in between to test if it has any effects on you. The next thing you know, you've eaten your fill. Coconut juice is left on your lips and hands, the shell from the nuts are spread all over the floor of the cave and your burp echoes inside the place. Chuckling, you hear the sound of clattering wood right in the entrance of the cave.

“What—!?” Hobie quickly makes his way towards you, panic settling in his bones as he opens your mouth with his fingers. “Did you eat it? Love, you need to vomit it out!” He's considering shoving his hand in your mouth.

Your garbled words have him thinking that you're choking. “Fuck no!” His fear gets to him as he hugs you from behind and squeezes you in quick succession. He doesn't know siren anatomy, but maybe it's not so different with his own. So with determination, he tries to dislodge whatever you’ve eaten. “Shit– fuck!”

“I'm alright!” You let out instead of the food he was trying to squeeze out of you. Twisting around, you pat his cheek, giggling with amusement. “See?” Spreading your arms, you show off your still-alive self.

He heaves, palm placed atop his heart. “You're fine?”

Nodding happily, he finally lets out a sigh of relief. He feels like he's the one who's about to collapse. You guess you can stop eating human flesh now, maybe you should tell the others about your findings.

Hobie lays his forehead on your shoulder, hands placed on your hips as he levels his breathing. You pat his back, cradling him and letting out a laugh with every sigh he lets out.

“There there, captain.” You teasingly say. He could only groan in reply.

—

The day has come for him to leave. It's earlier than you thought it would be, you hoped that he could stay for a week or two more, but with the sight of a ship with the familiar red sail floating a few miles away, it has Hobie preparing for the short trip.

You help him with the final preparations, tying the last rope around the wooden planks, and securing the bundle of coconuts on the raft. Your heart weighs heavy, but you can't keep him away from where he's supposed to be.

The sun shines brightly above, but you don't feel its warmth against your skin.

Holding the dagger he gave you atop your chest, you watch him push the raft from the beach closer to the shore. Your lips wobble as he grins wider at the ship from afar.

“They're waitin’ for me, I knew it.” He turns towards you, and you hide your sorrow with a forced smile. “Love.”

“Keep safe, captain.” You manage to say without a broken sob. “Stay away from here, you might not be…” you inhale shakily, “...so lucky next time.”

“Come away with me.”

His hand reaches towards you as the waves lap on the beach. You stare at his stretched hand, tracing the scars along it with your tearful eyes. He whispers your name softly, beckoning you closer.

You hug the dagger closer to your chest. “They’ll hurt me.” His hand grasps gently at your chin, raising your face to meet with his eyes. “Just like how I've hurt people.”

“You told me you saved ‘em. And you saved me.” He shakes his head, eyes softly looking into your own. “I won't let them hurt you, I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“I'm different, Hobie. Not human enough.”

“You're human enough for me, love.” Leaning closer, he nudges his forehead against yours briefly. “Come away with me, let me show you the world.”

Your eyes close as he moves closer, lips brushing nervously atop your own until you make a move. His lips taste of fruits, sweet and gentle on your own lips. You're careful of the sharpness of your teeth, but he doesn't mind as he kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever taste you. It might as well be if you decide to stay. It'll break his heart, but if that's what you want, he'll give it to you. If you want the world, he'll put it on a silver platter just for you.

You've captivated him without your siren song, but he's more than ready to dive into the depths if you so will it.

Leaning away, you open your eyes to his shining ones. “Will you have me as I am?”

Hobie grins and kisses each of your cheeks until you're smiling. He nods, “with everythin’ I have.”

With one final look at your home where your collections of human things lay, you leave it all for the pirate you have in your arms. Hopefully you'll see more in your adventures.

[puntastic-artist]

HI HERE'S SOME MORE TNMN DOODLES, sorry (not sorry) a majority of them are of Gabriel (this is where the among us doodle came from lmao)

ALso I am forever cursed to make pirate AUs for each fandom I enter so have that

I only did 3 neighbors per floor

Gabriel really wants the tired guy to kiss him

[ramvur]

i just realized i never posted this old piece so its a good time to do so to let yall know that @/redhairedmuses on AO3 finally started posting her siren!gaz x pirate!price fic called Half a Creature from the Sea and u should definitely go read it cuz her writing is godsend.✨

[jewel-heist]

Yall im sorry if Wyll’s face looks a little goofy i lowkey forget faces for a second 😭

Been thinking of a wyllstarion pirate/siren AU. If I ever have time maybe a fanfic 😔 so here’s a lazy drawing of it. I think it’d be interesting if Astarion was some kind of deep sea fish. I imagine they follow the H20 rules where they can still walk on land and go back and forth between forms lol

[mysticmiav]

It was Chilumi Fairy Tale week on twitter, and here are my pieces for it✨️🐳

But the walls of that tower could not hide everything☀️

Day 1- Rapunzel au🍳

Red is the colour of destiny🥀

Day 2- Red Riding Hood & Woodcutter au

"It's... made of glass?"

Day 3- Cinderella au🥿

Don't stare at the perspective too much it doesn't make any sense

He recounts stories of his travels to her⚓️

Day 4- Pirate Siren au✍️

Sooo happy with how this one turned out <3

Salty depths hold secrets⚓️🌊

Day 5- Another Pirate Siren au, because I really wanted to draw their roles reversed; this time it's Pirate Lumine Siren Childe~

"What's wrong?"🗡

Day 6- Ella Enchanted au! One of my favourite movies growing up~

For anyone that doesn't know the movie: the story is about a girl named Ella who, when she was born, her fairy (godmother-ish) casted a bleesing of obedience on her. Due to it, Ella obeys any order given to her no matter what, and, well, you can imagine how that goes when the wrong people learn of this information.

The evening star is shinin' bright so make a wish✨️

Day 7- Princess and the frog au🌱

So my initial goal was to just sketch something for every day (since am busy w work and other projects) but it felt like I kept getting carried away each day, my sketches kept getting more detailed and all. So, for the last day, I wanted to lowkey-shitpost it and go for froggies chilumi!✍️

Alright long post but that's all. This was my first time actually making a piece for every day of those types of events & am happy with all of them🖤

[betweenstorms]

The Tide That Binds Us (masterlist) (previous work) Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Siren!fem Reader

“The tide drags us together, lover and monster alike, until our reflections blur upon the water—now I cannot tell where your hunger ends and my surrender begins.”

Simon Riley knew that he had been raised by the sea herself.

His lungs had been shaped by her salted breath, his skin weathered by her touch, both cruel and kind, both lover and executioner. His hands bore the scars of her temperament, the rough callouses of a child she had never coddled, only forged.

He had seen all her faces, too, her serene hush, when the morning tide kissed the shore like a parting lover, whispering secrets in the language of shifting sands. He had also known her rage, the way she screamed in the throat of a storm, a wrathful goddess tearing at the sky, drowning the world in fury. She was treacherous and tender, devouring and divine.

And Simon knew better than most that the sea had no mercy.

She gave as much as she took, offered salvation in the same breath she whispered death. Men like him belonged to her in ways those bound to the land could never understand. She did not love, not in the way a mother should. But she kept him. She had taken men stronger than him, smarter than him, much more cunning than him, pulled them beneath her surface with greedy hands, but she had let him live.

Perhaps the sea had been merciful because he had always served her.

He was not like the others, those who fought against her, who defied her will, who prayed to false gods to spare them from her wrath. Simon had never begged her for favor, nor cursed her for cruelty. He had accepted her as she was, giver and taker, mother and monster, and she, maybe in return, had allowed him to stay, to bathe in her glory.

The lighthouse was his domain, his duty, the golden eye of its beacon sweeping across the darkened bay each night, a silent warning to those who dared trespass upon the inky waters. The men who sailed these shores, fishermen, drifters, wanderers with salt in their veins and wounds on their skin, depended on it. On him. On his care. They never saw his face, only the steady rhythm of his work, the light that cut through the darkness.

Simon’s days were predictable.

Ritualistic even.

He fished in the mornings, pulling silver offerings from the sea’s embrace, his hands deft and unthinking as he worked. He maintained the beacon, tended the building, ensuring the gears moved as they should, oiling the great lantern’s heart. When the skies were clear, he watched the stars, mapping the constellations that stretched above him like scars across the heavens.

The nearest town was miles away, across the bay, little more than a scattering of homes and shops clinging to the coastline. He rarely ventured there unless necessity demanded it—a new coil of rope, a crate of provisions—but even then, he lingered only long enough to make his purchases before returning to his solitary world.

Simon preferred it that way.

Isolation suited him.

The sea had always been his most faithful companion, the only one who knew the language of silence, who understood the weight of solitude without seeking to fill it. She never asked anything of him beyond his devotion, never demanded more than he could give. And yet, beneath her endless surface, beneath the lull of waves and foam, she harbored secrets.

Dark things. Forgotten things. 

Monsters.

One of those monsters haunted him that night.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunted as he closed a window due to the heavy wind. The sea was uneasy, restless in a way that only those who truly knew her could feel.

That day, sometime after dusk, the wind had shifted, rolling in from the east with an eerie stillness that pressed heavy against the world, the kind that foretold an oncoming storm. Above, the stars burned brighter than they should have, their cold, ancient light stark against the vast abyss. The moon hung low and swollen, full and watching, a silver god casting its glow over the churning water below. The waves lapped against the massive cliffs, carrying secrets meant for no human ear. Dark and murmuring.

They rose and fell like a monster’s sigh.

And then he heard it.

A siren.

He was a man nearing forty, and he knew well the witchery of the sea. The stories whispered in dockside taverns, the warnings etched into the faces of old sailors, the superstitions woven into every knot of a fisherman’s net—he had heard them all. The sea was no gentle mistress. She was a realm of monsters, of unholy things that ruled the waves with claws and teeth and songs that could drown men without a drop of water touching their skin.

He knew of krakens, their tentacles rising like black towers from the depths, wrapping around ships and pulling them into the darkness. He knew of beasts with too many eyes, blinking in eerie unison from the shadows beneath the waves, their gazes filled with unknowable intent. 

And he knew of sirens, too.

Their otherworldly voices were spun from the marrow of dead sailors, their songs as sweet as they were lethal, beckoning men toward ruin with the promise of something beautiful, eternal and inescapable. He had seen one once, when he was just a boy—too young to understand, but old enough to remember.

He could still recall the way his father’s harpoon tore through its body, the way it bled black, ink and brine spilling into the boat, staining his hands, his boots, his memories.

They were wretched things, their bodies tangled with moss and pearls, their scales slick as oil on water, shimmering and shifting, catching the light in unnatural hues of purple, blue, and silver. Their eyes were the worst of it—milky and hollow, pits of white that seemed to pierce and yet see nothing at all.

No pupils, no soul, no mercy.

And their teeth, too sharp and too many for his liking, gleaming like a reflection of the waves themselves, something meant for rending, for devouring, for dragging men into the deep and never letting go.

“Never trust what comes from the sea,” that was what his father had said as he carved into the corpse, his blade slicing through the slick flesh with the practiced ease of a man gutting a fish, stripping it bare from its makeshift jewelry. “Nothin’ that comes from it is ever yours, son. Not her pearls, not her beauty, not her mercy. You take what you need and leave the rest. If you don’t, she’ll take you instead.”

This was the only truly useful thing his father had ever said to him.

But this one—this siren wasn’t singing.

It was crying.

The sound was heartbreakingly beautiful, a sorrow spun from salt and wind that rose from the darkness and wrapped itself around him like a mother’s embrace. It wasn’t the seductive pull of their song, that honeyed, venomous promise of blissful destruction he had steeled himself against countless times before. No, this was different. It was raw, fractured, a sound that felt like it didn’t belong to the world of the living. It was haunting, the way it seemed to call for him and only him. The sound wasn’t human, couldn’t be, and yet it burrowed into his chest and made his heart tighten.

Because it was not a call.

It was pain.

And goddess help him, it was beautiful. It prickled his skin, sent a cold whisper down his spine, not with fear, but with something worse—recognition. As though the grief in that voice did not belong to the sea at all. As though, somehow, it belonged to him.

And Simon, against all reason, felt himself being drawn to it.

His first instinct was to shut the other windows, too. To bolt the lighthouse doors and to wait for the storm he knew would come crawling over the horizon by morning. The sea always changed before a tempest, the air thickening, the tides rising, tense and starved. Simon had learned long ago that no good ever came from listening too closely to what lurked beyond the shore.

And yet—he hesitated.

Something inside him rebelled, some nameless part of him that ached at the tempting sound, that tightened in his chest like an iron fist gripping his ribs. And against his better judgment, he picked up his lantern and left the lighthouse.

Unguarded.

The descent toward the shore was treacherous, even for a man who had known these cliffs all his life. The rocks jutted out like broken bones, slick with sea spray, the pathway winding and deceptive. He knew all too well that every footstep here mattered, knew how easy it would be to fall and disappear beneath the tide, swallowed whole. But he pressed on, lantern swinging in his grip, his breath harsh against the cold wind.

And then the crying stopped.

Simon slowed, heartbeat heavy in his ears. He scanned the shoreline, his keen eyes adjusting to the silver-washed darkness. The sea stretched before him, an endless mouth yawning wide beneath the moon, and the wind howled, but the sobs had ceased, leaving only silence.

He was being watched.

His grip on the lantern tightened.

Simon felt it before he saw it, the unmistakable sensation of something pressing against him from the inside out, an invisible weight that made his breath come shorter, his pulse pound against his freezing skin. He swept his gaze across the rocky shoreline, the lantern's glow flickering weakly against the dark. The tide rolled in sluggishly, dragging kelp and shattered shells and rubbish onto the sand, leaving behind gleaming trails of brine that shimmered like veins of liquid silver. The scent of salt and something faintly metallic filled his lungs.

Then he saw it.

Or more like her.

“Bloody hell,” was all he could muster.

Shimmering scales gleamed under the moonlight, their iridescence shifting, broken and glistening in the pale glow. Empty, sightless eyes stared at him, the gleam of too many teeth bared in silent warning. Her hair was woven from the night itself, strands of pure darkness clinging to her face, tangled in the glistening scales and skin. Braids coiled through the wild locks, adorned with shells and pearls that had long since lost their luster—just like the ones his father had torn from a creature like her.

At first, Simon thought she was nothing more than a trick of the light. A specter conjured by the approaching storm, a cruel illusion spun from shadow and tide, a barbaric joke of his goddess. But then—

She moved.

Not much, only the faintest shift of her webbed fingers against the sand, long nails digging in the grains, but it was enough. Enough to confirm that she was no mirage, no phantom rising from the sea’s depths to mock him.

A siren.

But something was wrong.

Her body lay sprawled on the shore, draped across the wet sand like a broken offering, her black blood pooling beneath her, seeping into the white foam that hissed and whispered as the waves lapped hungrily at her failing form. A ragged wound marred her tail, a savage, gaping bite that had torn deep into her flesh, revealing pale muscle and splintered bone. It was raw, violent, the kind of wound left by a predator—something larger, something hungrier.

As if something had tried to eat her.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her translucent throat fluttering with each rattling gasp, as though she were drowning on land, suffocating in air that was never meant to sustain her. But she didn’t look like she was drowning. More like suffering.

Simon stood frozen, the chill of the night pressing into his skin, however, he felt nothing but the pull of her gaze. Those empty eyes, devoid of pupils, locked onto him with a stillness that could unmake a man. Misty and milky white, like pearls rolling in the tide, and yet—they saw him, he was sure of that. Saw through him, into the space where his soul should have been. A shudder coursed through him, sharp and biting, like the cold of the sea itself wrapping around his spine, threatening not to let him go.

He had seen her kind before, but not like this.

Never like this.

Because the sirens Simon knew were born from hunger, nightmares carved from the abyss, their beauty a deception, their cruelty boundless. They did not weep and they did not falter. They were the sea’s daughters, forged in the salt and blood of drowned men. They hunted in packs, gliding through water like living specters, their songs curling through the mist, laced with promise, soaked in death. They spared no one—unless they had need of them. When their numbers thinned, when their kind dwindled, they would let men live long enough to take something from them.

Daughters born with water in their lungs.

Nothing hunted sirens other than humans.

Nothing could.

And yet—

Black tears streamed down her pale, bloodied face, tracing paths across her scales, dripping onto the torn flesh of her body. They mingled with the ink of her, pooling in the sand like an oil slick. The sound she made was not the haunting melody that had drawn countless men to their deaths, not the sweet, treacherous song that pulled sailors into their waiting jaws. It was softer. Raw.

Eerily human.

A fractured sob, torn from something deep and ancient, something that should not have been capable of grief, spilling into the night like the last dying breath of a storm.

It was not meant for Simon to hear.

His feet moved without thought, his boots sinking into the wet sand as he stepped closer. She snarled weakly, her lips peeling back to reveal two sets of teeth, as sharp and long as broken glass. The sound was instinctive, a threadbare defense, but her strength was failing her. Her fingers scraped at the sand, pulling her body toward, or perhaps away from him.

He could not tell which.

Her fear wasn’t for him.

It was for something else.

Simon’s gaze flickered downward, to the wound carved into her tail, the jagged edges of torn scales and raw, glistening muscle. A bite. No clean cut, no wound from battle, but the ruinous mark of something that had devoured and been left unsatisfied. Whatever had done this had been merciless and ancient. It was a claim—one that had not yet been fulfilled.

And she had escaped from it.

Sirens did not flee. They did not beg, did not tremble, did not seek shelter on land, away from the dark cradle that had borne them. They belonged to the abyss, yet this one had crawled to shore. And the terror in her sightless eyes told him why.

She had not really escaped it.

She had only bought herself time.

Simon’s fingers twitched at his side. He should end it. He knew he should. Should put her out of her misery, should stop whatever this was before it became something. But his hand would not move, would not reach for the creature’s neck to kill her. The tide rose, licking at his boots, reaching for her broken body, and yet, she did not fight it. She just looked at him.

He should have ignored it.

Should have let the sea take her back.

But he didn’t.

Simon Riley had never been a man of mercy.

The sea had taught him that early. However, Simon slowly knelt in the sand, his knees pressing into the wet earth, water and blood creeping through fabric, sinking deep. The vastness whispered at his back, the wind curling through his dusty blonde hair like ghostly fingers, urging him away. Goddess, he knew better than to get close—knew what those claws could do, what those teeth had done to men who had come before him. And yet, his body betrayed him, moving against every instinct that screamed at him to turn back, to leave her to whatever fate awaited, to give her back to the sea.

Still, he lowered himself.

His hands rose, palms up—

—a gesture as ancient as the sea itself.

It was foolish, a reckless thing born of madness, a man bowing to the unknown. The sea did not deal in peace. She did not barter in mercy or forgiveness. The sea dealt in flesh and bone, in the sharp edge of hunger and the endless churn of fear.

Just like her daughters.

Simon knew this.

And still, he reached for her.

He spoke before he thought better of it. “You understand me, yeah?”

Her opalescent eyes narrowed.

A response, however weak. Her black tears continued to stream down her face, carving rivers through the salt caking her colorful scales. Her mouth parted, rows of jagged teeth meant for rending flesh stared back at him, but she did not lunge. Did not snap. Did not drag him into the abyss where she had surely taken so many before.

Simon licked his lips, tasting salt and blood. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

The siren bared her teeth again, but there was no strength behind it. Simon only nodded, taking that as an answer.

At least she understood him.

“Listen, creature,” he murmured, shifting his weight slightly, the sand scattering beneath his boots. “If I touch you, don’t want you bitin’ my fuckin’ fingers off, understood?”

She did not speak.

Only watched.

Those empty eyes fixed upon him, hollow as the moon yet brimming with something deeper, something more knowing than they had any right to be. It was unnerving, the way she beheld him, as if she could see past flesh, past bone, past the mortal entity that he was.

As if she already knew him.

But then again, the sea had always known him.

She had claimed Simon long before he had words to name her pull, long before he understood why he would always return to her, why the land had never been enough. He had been raised in the cradle of her bays, rocked by her violent lullabies, shaped by the call of distant waves. He was hers. Her son. More than his own mother’s, more than anyone’s.

And this monster before him?

She was part of that vast, unknowable force.

Another piece of the great and endless goddess. Perhaps this was her wish. The sea had never asked anything of him before. They had provided for each other, mother and son, bound by the quiet understanding that the sea would take as much as she gave.

But perhaps, at long last, she was calling in a debt.

Perhaps this was a favor, whispered in the language of droplets, carried by the hush between the waves—a mother asking her favored son to save her favourite daughter.

Perhaps that was why his hand did not shake as he reached for the siren laying before him.

“Bound by restless waves, I cannot tell if your touch drowns me in desire or devours me in ruin. Which of us wears the mask of the hunter, and which of us the prey?”

[gravegoer]

now that you mentioned pirate!sevika x siren!reader I NEED it omg

just thinking about it is making me go crazy

I hear your call ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ

THANK YOU !! ive been waiting for this one i also have a mermaid one, idk which I'm putting out first but ill link it when it here when it does come out but thank you for the asks! masterlist , part 2

part 3

You lured many crews to their deaths, men followed your alluring voice into the thrashing waves of the ocean. Willingly drowning themselves in the salt.

Once they heard your song, and saw your beautiful face their fate was already sealed. You were cunning and dangerous, not hesitating to go after any ship you saw.

This didn't change when you saw a wrecked ship on the shore of an island. The pirates were obviously disoriented, and fixing their ship to leave.

One tall, strong figure commanded them, voice booming and most definitely angry. When they walked off, you took this as your chance to strike, rising onto the shore, and from between your lips came a song.

The pirates in your vicinity turned their heads to admire you in awe, at that you smirked, beckoning them closer with a finger adorned in jewels.

Unexpectedly, a woman came out from behind the trees, you assumed she was the loud voice you heard earlier. Shit.

A woman being the captain of this crew was the last thing you expected.

She didn't hesitate to pull her gun from the holster and aim it in your direction. The bullet barely missed your side as you jumped away. The sharp sound made you stop your song immediately.

The men, previously in a trance, looked around. Their eyes eventually settled on you. You pushed away from the shore, but before you could swim, heavy hands grabbed you from under the arms.

The woman had managed to seize you in all your shock, and you thrashed and flailed in her strong hold. She pulled you from the water, metal arm clawing into your flesh, most definitely leaving red marks.

You could feel her warm chest against your back. It contrasted the cold that you usually felt on mens bodies when you pulled them overboard into the icy waves.

She held you up for the men to see, "We caught us a pretty one, aye?" A short, stout man spoke.

"She would sell for a lot, y'know."

"Nah, I think I wanna keep her. She's rather stunning."

"Are you serious she tried—"

"Enough."

The womans stern voice was loud enough to quiet the whole crew. You could feel the vibration of her chest when she spoke. It was a deep and gutteral hum.

"I want to be off this island by nightfall."

All the men scurried at her order, returning to their original positions. They spoke amongst themselves and murmured their complaints, now completely disregarding your presence.

She threw you into the sand, and you landed with a thump. You didn't skip a beat before you tried to claw your way back to shore, but were stopped short by her hand grabbing your tail.

"Now, what am I going to do with you." Her voice was surprisingly husky.

You let out a yelp and turned around to face her, holding yourself up on your elbows. You were now met with her smokey grey eyes and dark scarred skin that anyone would recognize.

Sevika.

She was a ruthless leader and led an even more unforgiving crew. Her reign was seemingly endless, ruling the seas for the better half of her life. Men and women that sailed the seas all respected her alike.

You parted your lips to start a song. But before you could even let out one note, she interrupted you, "That shit isn't going to work on me."

You knew that.

It was worth a try though.

She crouched over you, one knee digging into the sand beside you, and her other leg thrown over you, boot awfully close to your tail.

She reached out to your face with a warm hand, but you pulled back, baring your teeth to her in a snarl. Then she palmed your jaw more ferociously, smirking at your actions. She tilted your head from one side to another, eyes following the trail of scales down your neck.

Her lips were parted ever-so-slightly, and you could see the small gap between her teeth, showcased by her thick brown lips.

You had never been interested in humans, especially human men. Their sexual desire outruled any curiousity you had towards them. Men completely ruined the human race for you. In fact, they disgusted you. But you had never been this close to a human woman.

Usually, you targeted pirate ships, so coming across a woman was especially rare. At one point, you started to wonder if they even existed. But your doubts were disproven as the woman on top of you caused your breath to hitch in your throat.

"What are you going to do to me." You hissed.

"Oh, so she does speak," Sevika smirked before getting up and brushing sand off her pant leg, "I could chop you up and serve you to my men.. But that would be a waste. Plus, im not a fan of killing the local wildlife."

She was clearly amused by her joke, but you werent, you glared daggers at her, now crossing her arms as she towered above you. It was a clear display of her power and authority.

" 'M gonna have to keep you in my sight until we leave." She said, more in a teasing way than strict.

"I need water." You shot back at her, slightly grateful that she wasn't going to kill you, but the sun might just kill you itself if you didn't get back to the sea.

"Alright. I'll let you go to the shore. But if you even seem like you're going to swim away, I won't hesitate to shoot," She pulled her gun out of its holster again, flashing it to you as a warning.

At that, you turned to start clawing your way back to the rocks where you orignally resided. But you felt a large arm scoop you up instead. You were basically folded over Sevikas forearm, her hip balancing some of your weight as she walked you to your destination. You couldn't do anything but let your arms dangle over your head, fingertips brushing the ground. (maybe not if your short)

How embarassing.

When she plopped you into the water, you sighed deeply, feeling your gills thank the salt in the sea. The crew was now hidden from your view as the rocks were big enough to fill your vision. Sevika, on the other hand, was sitting atop one, eyeing her men.

You could take this perfect opportunity to swim away, but a part of you knew that she wasn't looking away because she trusted you to stay. She was looking away because she trusted herself to be able to shoot faster than your tail could hit the water.

So you opted to keep your place. You saw her shake her head at what you assumed to be the antics of the crew. Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed a zippo and lit a cigarillo that was now between her fingers.

You rolled your eyes at her, gills retracting when she blew out hot smoke in your direction. You rested your chin on your arms, laying against a smaller rock.

"What? Not a fan of tobacco?" She mused.

"I am not a fan of any human trinkets." Your lip curled in disgust at the smell.

She eyed the sparkly jewerly that hung from your limbs, "Doesn't seem that way to me."

You got defensive, "Enough. I found it myself."

That wasn't a lie. You kept a lot of the treasures you found in mens pockets, jewerly, watches, and compasses.

You didn't exactly fancy small talk, but Sevika insisted that they would be there for several more hours until her ship was fixed. So you would tell her some stories and let her look at your treasures.

The sun started to set on the horizon, and eventually, you were sitting on the rock next to her, her large hand tracing your scales with intrigue. You didn't feel disgusted by her touch or bored with her presence. This feeling was forgin to you, and you wanted to let your guard down.

But you also wanted to wrap your cold fingers around her throat and strangle her until her warm breath left her body. Leaving her there to swim back into the ocean.

You disregarded that and leaned into her touch, watching the sunset. Some kind of ease has settled itself into your bones, knowing that you couldn't control her with song or seduce her with melody.

And maybe you were finding yourself too much in thought, but you might have her wrapped around your finger without help from the sea. And maybe she was allured by your fantastical stories and airy laugh.

Suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted by a scraggly voice, "Aye, cuddling up to the captian?"

You jumped into the water, away from Sevikas side. She grabbed the handle of her gun with wide eyes before stopping when she saw you, unmoving and clinging to a rock.

She wasn't lying when she said she would shoot you at any attempt to flee. But a pang shot through your chest anyway.

She cleared her throat and spoke, "What could you possibly want."

He tilted his head to the now finished ship. "Told ya we could do it, cap."

She sighed, standing up from the rock and sparing you one last glance before walking back to her ship.

I guess this was your queue to leave, but after the day you spent with her, a part of you couldn't leave. She had piqued a feeling that nobody ever had before.

So you watched her speak to her crew from a distance, bobbing in the dark waters. Your lips were curled down in a pouty frown.

She let everyone board before her, patting a heavy hand on the last man's back. Just before she stepped onto the ramp, she caught your gaze. Her eyes widened, and you dipped back under the water, out of sight.

She sighed and started to ascend the ramp to the deck, but not before hearing a splash from beside her. It was you, your fingers grasped at the wood, head balancing just above the ramp. Your torso was completely out of the water, and it dripped from your skin.

Her heart lurched at the sight, and she reached towards you, bending down into the water. You lowered yourself back into the sea as she closed the distance between you now. Her hat barely balanced itself on her head when she stroked a thick finger down your cheek.

You held her hand against your face and closed the gap between your lips completely. Sevikas lips were thick and warm and tasted roughtly of tobacco.

She was so unlike you, but you yearned for her deeply. Her form was rugged and large compared to your swift elegance and shiney scales. But when she pulled away and you looked into her eyes, you didn't seem to care whether she had legs or a tail.

Only that she was yours.

"I'll follow you wherever you go."

can you tell that i love pirates, and this is my favorite trope.. ALSO, tell me why i rewrote this 3 times because tumblr kept deleting it.. and not proof read pls correct me on anything! and reposts + feedback is always appreciated <33 thank you for reading !!

[eyesxxyou]

𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆 🏴‍☠️🐚

| viii. eight | soulless dreams

🐚・・・pirate!Hobie x mute!siren!reader.

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱: mentions of self-harm. slightly obsessive behavior. nudity. slightly suggestive but nothing crazy.

↳ ❝ you knew that if you could dream you would dream of Hobie ❞

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

It is said that sirens do not dream. That, to dream, one must have a soul. It is said that sirens eat the souls of people so that maybe – just maybe – they could steal their dreams for themselves and know what it means to truly be human.

You’ve never had a dream in your life and you always wondered if it meant you didn't have a soul. You tried to feel it, your soul, or the lack of it. You wondered if the emptiness you felt within the cage of your chest was where your soul was meant to rest. You wanted to cut yourself open, wanted to search for it between your organs that always seemed to slosh around uncomfortably. Would you find it nestled between your heart and your lungs? Or would you find the cavity where some higher power meant to place one.

For many years, you wandered the endless seas in search for your soul under every rock and within every human trinket. And by fate, you had been harpooned through the shoulder by a royal navy ship and brought abord. You were shoved into a cage and days later, you were rescued by the most beautiful human you had ever placed your eyes upon. You knew it the moment you saw him that you had found your soul. 

That empty space in your chest had all at once been filled with admiration and a devout dedication to this pirate. You owed him your life and you were more than willing to give it to him even if he didn't seem to like you much.

But you knew that if you could dream you would dream of Hobie. 

You awoke curled up in the sand, your body unfurling from its fetal position to stretch your limbs. You blinked once, twice, the fluttering of your long lashes casting the sand from your eyes. A great yawn erupted from you as you sat up and looked around. Most were still sleeping in their drunken stupor, others were groaning and grumbling about the “damned sun in their eyes”. But among all of them, Hobie was nowhere to be found.

You got up and stood to your feet. You figured you’d go for a quick swim before the ship departed for sea again. You haven't had the chance to swim often these days, being injured. But Hobie and his crew had been taking great care of you and your shoulder was healing up nicely. You tried not to think about it, how once you were healed you’d be made to leave. How could you leave? Leave him? Leave all the friends you’ve made.

You walked into the sea that welcomed you with open arms and warm waters. The only mother you have ever known. She had birthed you, from seafoam and salty mist, and adorned you with pearls and made you beautiful. She made you empty, made you incomplete, but she made you beautiful.

You swim briskly, with your head still above the water in search of your beloved you weren't quite sure felt just the same. Your eyes scanned the beaches and it wasn't long before you found him in the secluded cover you had been in the night before lamenting over what he had done to you.

Hobie was standing in the water, bare of any clothes which he had left on a rock on shore. He had covered himself in oils made from fruits and flowers of the island, smelling of sweet peaches and lovely hibiscus. He stood with his back turned to you, the subtle curve of his spine leading up to broad shoulders. He turned but he didn't see you. He was lean, slender but built.

He could have easily been a siren himself with his unshakable beauty. He could seduce just as well as one. With his eyes and his lips and his lovely adornments.

You felt your face flush with blood at the thought of swimming over and touching him, helping him rub oil into his back, over his chest. The scars in his skin from being stabbed, shot – a long, hard life. You wanted to kiss them, his scars, heal them with your adoration, like using gold to fix a broken pot and make it hold again.

You watched him, you head just barely above water. In a daze, you hadn't noticed Hobie had turned in your direction. He noticed your head peeking over the water, milky eyes staring, daydreaming of a world where you had the confidence, the voice, to ask to help him bathe, to worship him.

Hobie chuckled softly, snapping you out of your lovesick daze. “Ya wanna get ma back fo’ me, pearl?” He meant it as a joke but as you poked your head up further and began approaching closer, Hobie choked and backed away. “‘M jus’ jokin’, luv.”

Flustered and embarrassed by your own eagerness to be near him even in his most vulnerable state, you tucked away under the water and swam away in your humiliation holding your cheeks that burned.

Hobie didn't hold it against you. He laughed about it on the ship as they sailed away on the island and gently chuckled with you as if you were any other member of the crew. You moved your head to look at him, your cheeks heating with the rush of blood to your face. Even the fins of your ears were tinted pink.

Hobie was kinder to you than he was before, in the beginning of your strained relationship. Everyone spoke of how Hobie was starting to return to his usual, carefree self. Yes, he was kinder but he was still an ever elusive character in your lonely life, never fully letting you get too close, always maintaining distance, never letting the two of you touch.

You sat on deck with your oranges, watching the sun set slowly over the horizon. Hobie was ordering people around, preparing them for their first night back at sea and you watched in admiration. He was cast in golden light, his necklaces and rings glinting under the fading sun. You sank your teeth into an orange and hoped that maybe he’d look at you, come sit with you, talk to you.

Instead, Gwen came and blocked your view of him. “Hey, you mind if I sit with you?” She looked down at you, smiling with a lopsided grin.

You liked Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr. They all treated you kindly, accepted you as one of them without a hitch, more than the others. They were young. They knew little of beasts and monsters. All they knew, in their innocent youth, was of sweet kindness. You adored them. They were your friends, whatever that may mean to you.

You glanced around at Hobie who caught your gaze from just a moment, looking at you with something softer than before. But a crew member distracted him and he turned away from you. You could hear him murmured under his breath, but could not discern what it might have been. You nodded and shuffled to the side to make space with her on the stairs leading up to the forecastle.

The two of you sat in silence for a long while. You are your oranges, licking your sticky lips, watching Hobie while you did so. Gwen fidgeted beside you with fingers twirling her half-shaved head and shifting eyes. She looked as if she meant to ask you something but didn't know how, didn't know if she even should.

It took her many more minutes to say anything, working up the courage to ask what was on her mind. She came out with it in a quick babble. “Do you like Hobie?” She was sure to be quiet so as to not capture the attention of anyone around you, especially not Hobie himself. “I mean…the way me and Miles like each other.” She added on to differentiate platonic “like” from romantic “like”.

You slowly ate the rest of your orange and swallowed it with an obvious bulge in your throat. You nodded slowly and turned your face away, your cheeks hot and stinging, maybe from the sugar of the orange, maybe from the thought of Hobie being close to you. ‘Me no think he like me.’ You signed.

“I don't think that's quite true.” Gwen saw the way he interacted with you, the way he reeled from your touch not from disgust or hatred but from fear. Fear you might find out what he hides beneath that shell of his, fear that you might peel away his skin and find his soul already displayed for your taking, fear that he may already be willing to give it to you if you so asked.

“He's different now.” More accepting of his circumstances. He did not fight his life like it was not his own as much. “I think he likes you. He just isn't sure he knows it, I think.” Gwen looked at Hobie who stood talking to Miles, offering firm pats on the shoulder. He always took a liking to Miles, saw a lot of himself in the young boy.

“I'm not sure how it would work between a human and a siren but Hobie’s never been one to follow the rules, I guess.” She shrugged. You looked human enough, beautifully inhuman but your anatomy was close. You could kiss, you could hold, you could love. “I think it could work. Doesn't hurt to try.”

You listened to her words carefully and nipped at your bottom lip with your fanged teeth. Your eyes lingered on Hobie, still, your fingers tingled with the desire to touch and caress. Your innocent love for him, so tender. You wanted to hold him. You wanted him to find his soul within you too. You wanted him to dream of you.

You could not perform siren mating rituals even if you wanted to. For sirens, singing was the source of everything and to attract a mate, sirens would sing their most beautiful songs to each other. You were born wrong, your throat slit in the womb of the sea, cursing you to a life forever alone.

You lowered your gaze with disappointment and touched carefully at your hair to soothe yourself. You tried not to think of your brokenness, your soullessness. The sea had made you incomplete. You were meant to be human. You were meant to dream. You were meant to have a soul.

The next night, you sat outside of Hobie's cabin, waiting for him to retire for the night. In your hands, you held a small gift for him, fiddling with them to make them look presentable in your palms.

“Pearl.” Hobie had known you would return to his door at night the moment he apologized to you and for the first time, he didn't mind it. He saw that you held something in your hands, close to your chest, and knelt down beside you. “Whatcha go’ there?”

You pouted softly, shy to show him what you had so meticulously collected for him. Slowly, you opened your hand to him and showed him a few black pearls you had meticulously and delicately taken from a few clams while you were swimming beneath the boat. You were sure to only choose the most perfect ones for him and to thank the clams for their pearls.

Hobie took them carefully from your soft palms. “They’re beautiful, pearly.” He murmured softly, examining them for any flaw. There were none, not even a warp in the surface.

‘For you.’

“For me?” Hobie sat down beside you with the pearls in his palms. His eyes were soft, his calloused hands were softer. You looked at him and imagined a world where you’d have the courage to place your hand upon his cheek and him do the same to you. “Yer quite sweet, pearl. Thank ya.”

Hobie took your hand and gently placed his lips up on the ridge of your knuckles. It was the most intimate he’s ever been with you. The first time he's ever voluntarily touched you in ages. You felt your heart soar, beating against the cage of your chest so hard you thought it might tear through. You face was hot, you felt lightheaded. You smiled.

That night, when he left you — this time, offering you pillows and a blanket — you fell into a slumber full of fanciful dreams of Hobie and you, dancing together under the moonlight.

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: @lovelyygirl8 @humungus-mythology-geek @shutingstar @pixieofthesun @hobiesbf @gayaristocrat

[bear-boi-5]

Mystical Pirates

god I needed to get this outta my system

Mystical Pirates AU, an AU where Luffy finds mythical creatures and ends up sailing the seas with them (now Brook and Chopper won't feel alone/SILLY)

I made Usopp into a bear centaur and Sanji into a siren. Usopp is a centaur just cause it feels natural to make him one, a bear specifically is cause.. well.. look at my name and you can probably guess what my favourite animal is.. As for Sanji, with his freak out over Mermaids, nearly dying several times in the process, and his dream to see the All Blue, it would be fitting to make him into a siren

This is somewhat inspired by that one off lil episode so I am gonna pull some stuff from there like Zoro being a Minotaur

Would they have a tougher time on Sabaody than before? Oh most certainly. Having literally everyone on your crew except you and the shipwright being mythical beasts will make it incredibly difficult to get around undetected. Chopper and Brook would probably get away with it but not the others. Hachi would have a harder time hiding them/silly

[hycopank]