#since i'm at home all day i don't listen to music as much as sleep / watch tv omfg what's wrong with meeeeee

[reidsbabyhoney]

hi love!

saw that you write for hozier, and was wondering if you could write something fluffy. maybe since the tour is ending soon, maybe him coming home for the first time in a while?

xx

in which andrew is finally back from tour and you couldn't be happier.

pairing: hoizer x fem!reader category: fluff cw: tiniest bit of angst if you squint. he walks out in a towel and reader has some interesting thoughts. no use of y/n. wc: 1.3k a/n: thank you so much for requesting! this was so much fun to write, I was listening to 'unknown' when this request came in so it is very lightly inspired by that. and by very lightly I mean I took inspiration from the line 'you know the distance never made a difference to me'. this is my first time writing in a while so please be kind. lots of love!! (also he looks so cute in this picture, I can't get over it.)

You were basically buzzing with anticipation. Having to stay in Wicklow for work had its ups and downs. One of the most notable downs was that when Andrew went away for tour, there were long gaps you would go without seeing each other.

You had seen him two months ago when he had the smallest break from tour, and you called almost every night updating each other on your days. Usually, you'd fall asleep on the phone due to the time difference, but he had the habit of carrying his phone with your sleeping face covering the screen until you woke up. Recalling the time you woke up when he was in the middle of a concert, his phone being propped up on a stand off to the side of the stage.

But today Andrew was finally coming home. No more music festivals to perform at, no more concerts to hold, no more award shows to attend. He would finally be all yours.

You felt a bit guilty, knowing how much he loved performing and seeing his fans, but you were counting down the seconds until he walked through the doors of your shared home.

The clock was inching closer to 6pm, which was the time Andrew said he would be home. Never being someone who had patience for much, you were sitting outside on the porch swing you insisted he install a few years ago.

Finally a black car pulled into the driveway and Andrew stepped out. Sprinting to him like there was an Olympic medal to be won at the end of your journey you jumped into his arms once you reached him.

"Missed you so much love." he says into your hair as he holds you up, making sure you don't fall from his tight grip around your waist.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're finally home." you say as hugging him tightly as if he would disappear from your hold.

Letting go, you get a good look at him and see his hair seemed to grow a bit longer in the two months you were apart. Though, he also seemed to have given up on the routine you've tried to have him stick to since you started dating.

"You're hairs grown." You admire how beautiful he looks, but that might just be because your boyfriend is a 6 '6 Irish man that looks like he came from the woodlands of a fairytale.

"Hm, you like it?" he questions looking into your eyes for a second before putting you down onto solid ground.

"I love it." With that, you make your way up the steps of the house, one of his lighter bags in hand.

Andrew follows close behind you into the house, not missing how every inch spotless and nearly reflective.

Andrew knew you well, too well sometimes. He knew that you got anxious when he was away, and that made him feel both relieved and guilty. Relieved because he was finally home and could hold you in his arms. Guilty because he was away for so long.

Sneaking up behind you, he rests his head on your shoulder as he wraps his arm around you.

"Y'know I'm home for good right. Got my studio right here and the label already knows I won't release a new album for a few years. I'm all your’s angel."

At his words you melt into him. "I know, but you know how I get when you're away. Especially when you're flying. Was just worried is all."

He plants a soft kiss at the top of your head at your response. Turning around in his arms you look up at him and see how tired he really is.

"Y'know I love you with my whole heart, but you really should get in the shower so we can eat."

He lets out a huff, releasing you from his grip. Turning to make his way upstairs you get the ingredients out to make a simple pasta dish. Something you know will be filling for you both.

You're nearly done with dinner, the sauce being the only thing that needs to be seasoned and you realized Andrew still hasn't come from your bedroom. He isn't one to take long in the shower so you begin to worry. Quickly throwing in the final seasoning of oregano and thyme into the sauce, you lower the heat on both burners being used, and make your way up the stairs to look for your boyfriend.

Stepping into your shared bedroom, you're met with a cloud of mist as the connecting door to the bathroom opens. Seeing your boyfriend walk out in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist made your two months of celibacy very known throughout your body.

"I see some drool slipping past your lips, love, best wipe it away before whoever it is you're lusting after knows." he teases lightly, before he walks to the dresser to grab some clothes to change into.

Shaking the thoughts out of your head as an embarrassed blush grows over your face, you clear your throat quickly as a recovery.

"The food’s done downstairs whenever you're ready?" It comes out as more a question than a statement, still flustered over your boyfriend's appearance.

Andrew turns his head slightly and gives you a knowing smirk, "I'll be down right after I change."

With that you leave him to change and quickly make your way downstairs.

Still a bit flustered once you get to the kitchen, you make a plate for each of you, putting them down in your designated spots at the dining room table, sitting next to each other.

You hear Andrew before you see him, softly humming the tune of ‘Unknown/Nth’.

Taking a seat next to you, he rests his hand on your thigh before digging into the food.

Acting like a man starved, he basically inhales his food before you've even finished half of yours.

"Do they not feed you properly in America or what." you ask, eyes basically popping out of your head, surprised he's already finished his plate

"Nothing could beat a home cooked meal of yours." he says, giving you a brief kiss on the cheek before getting up to rinse his dish.

Finishing your own plate, you walk over to the sink where Andrew stands.

"Leave your plate angel. I'll clean the kitchen, you can go get ready for bed. Know you're tired." he says as a yawn slips from his mouth.

Going up on your tiptoes, you leave a sloppy kiss on his cheek with a smile and head towards the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Nearly falling asleep while rinsing out your hair, you quickly wash your body. and finish your shower. Stepping out, you cover yourself in a towel before opening the door to grab some pajamas to wear. Pajamas that consist of one of Andrew's shirts and a pair of sleep shorts.

Climbing into bed you wait for Andrew to come up to bed.

Closing your eyes for what you think is just a second, you're woken up when he crawls into bed, obviously trying not to disturb you and failing.

"Sorry love, was just coming to sleep."

Rolling over so you’re facing him, you wait for him to get comfortable in the bed before crawling into his arms. If you could crawl into his skin that's what you would be doing right now.

"Missed you so much, 'm so glad you're finally home."

Releasing a small breath, he brings you closer to him, -if that was even physically possible- and plants another kiss on your forehead. "Me too, angel, me too. Next time I'm dragging you on tour with me."

With a small laugh, you let your body rest against his and sleep consumes you.

Feeling the exhaustion finally hit him, Andrew gets a good night's rest for the first time in what felt like years. His love in his arms. He's sure that not even oceans away performing in arenas he would dream of selling out as a child, could beat the feeling of having you fast asleep in his arms. 

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Need Me Most| Pt2

Jeongin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating, Mentions of Physical Violence, Cursing, Talks of Death

Pt1 Pt3

MASTERLIST

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The clock clicked tirelessly, making you even more tired than you already were.

You were back home at your apartment after two days at the dorm, even if Chris had insisted you could stay as long as you needed. But you didn't want to seem a burden.

You were close with Chris, but you were closer with Hannah to begin with. So regardless of how much Chan assured you, you felt as if you were loading on problems to him, and he was helping you with them in respects of his sisters close confidant.

It was only 8 a.m. You had called off of work for the next two weeks, deciding that even though now was not the time to give yourself even more time to sit home alone; you didn't think you would be able to focus much at work which in the end would jeopardize your job. So, you found the rest of your shifts to be covered for the past five days you had been on the couch and submitted your vacation time for the weeks following.

You hadn't gotten much sleep considering how uncomfortably shaped your couch was -but refusing to sleep on the bed - and you hadn't eaten much. Overall you felt absolutely shitty.

Every hour or so your phone buzzed with a notification. Hannah had been informed of what had happened, and for the past few days was texting ever hour or so to make sure that your were getting up and eating. She knew you weren't the fondest of constant check ins during your darkest time, but she wanted to make sure her friend was okay.

Although you found it rather annoying that she kept texting even though you hadn't responded. Deep down you knew that you would look back and be appreciative of it, but right now in this moment it just seemed cumbersome to even acknowledge how great of a support you had.

So when she called, you answered in hopes to quell her worries long enough for you to just let go.

Let go.

"Hey, I know you probably don't feel like talking right now, but maybe it'll be good to get your mind off of things. I wanted to gauge your interest in a idea I had for my Blues."

You closed your eyes and listened to Hannah talk about everything under the sun minus the state of your distress.

And for a while it worked.

All throughout you last few of your high school years a first year of college, Hannah did this. She knew that the way you dealt with things was with distraction rather than direction.

She could give you the clinical ways of getting through and past things; but she knew you preferred to just have your mind preoccupied with other things while you worked on what you needed to work on by yourself.

If you needed help you'd ask for it. Thats how it had always been.

While Hannah was in the middle of talking about a slightly Adventure Time themed music video you spoke.

"I feel like dying Hannah."

The line went quiet on the other end and Hannah's voice came through softly.

"I don't blame you. This was your first big relationship. And by that I mean you truly loved him. Everything else you had before was puppy love, so I can understand why this breakup is the most difficult- especially considering it wasn't a clean one or for a neutral reason."

You heard her shift and her voice changed slightly, the clarity lessening and the echo and reverb growing slightly.

"But are you safe now Y/N. While I can validate your feelings, I don't want you to harm yourself in any way shape or form."

"I'm not going to do anything Hannah." You groan. "It slipped out I didn't mean it." You mumbled.

"Regardless Y/N-ie."

"I'm not. So please, stop worrying." You rubbed the patch of skin between your brows. You were starting to get a headache from this. "I'm gonna go now-"

"Ah! Wait Y/N my mom wants to talk to you! MOTHER!" You heard Hannah wail across her home. You mentally face palmed. It had been a minute since you talked to Mrs. Bahng and she was sure to use up that minute and double.

And you just weren't in the mood. But it's not like you had much choice because after a muffled conversation between Hannah and her mom you were subject to listening to her rant about something that had happened to her recently.

You zoned out slightly while she was talking, wanting to get back to your sulking. But you didn't have the heart to tell her that so you just listened.

You were praying for her rant to end just minutes after it started when you heard a loud knocking at your door.

"Oh! Mrs. Bahng, I am so sorry but someone is knocking at my door! I'll make sure to call you back! Much love!" You hung up and went to the door, not thinking much of anything other than going back to your couch, when you opened the door to a smiling Chris.

"Alright! Up, up, up!" He said flicking on the lights in every room while clapping loudly and picking up stray things off the floor. "Get up, get showered, get dressed, you're coming to work with me!"

You looked at Chris as if he had four heads and a tail.

"Chris I don't-"

"Ahhh tatatatata tsk tsk tsk. Don't wanna hear it. Hurry up since Jeongin is waiting. We have to be at the studio for 9:45. It is 9:04. 41 minutes get to it!" He said pushing you towards your bathroom.

"But what about makeup and-"

"Nope! No time!" He said closing the door. You groaned, and got in the shower, thankful that you had a spare change of clothes laying around, or else you would have had to ask Chan to grab them for you, and although you loved and trusted him you didn't really feel like letting him rifle through your drawers.

Soon enough you were outside, letting your body consume it's vitamin d.

Jeongin was standing outside of Chan's car, having walked from the dorm since Chan had left in a rush.

"Is everything okay, you rushed out quickly-" Jeongin said scrolling through his phone but pausing when he looked up and saw you.

"Hi, Y/N how are you?" He asked politely, looking at Chan.

"Y/N's coming with us to work." He said ruffling your hair.

"You can get front." Jeongin says almost immediately, but Bangchan shakes his head.

"I actually have a bunch of crap thrown up front- do you guys' mind sitting in the back?"

You shook your head, although you were quite irritated about having to get up and out of the house.

The ride to the company was quiet but Jeongin's mind was loud.

Chris's car seemed even smaller when sitting in the back, the taller boy struggling to fit nicely in the space- resulting in him having to sit in the middle seat for the slightest bit more leg room. Which meant he was squished up next to you.

You smelled like green apple shampoo and cucumbers, with the slightest hint of sea salt. He credited that to the exfoliating soap you had once mentioned you used when Hyunjin had commented on your fresh scent.

Your hair was slightly wet, and it made him shiver slightly when it fanned against him on a sharp turn.

Keep it together.

He thought to himself.

Multiple times by the end of the day.

Because everything you did- the way you smiled at Felix regardless of your mental state, the way you chewed thoughtfully on your kimbap, down to the way your tongue poked out slightly when you tied your shoes- made his heart do aerials.

Jeongin had been made aware of the situation as did the other boys.

And unbeknownst to you Chan was slowly building your ex's demise brick by brick along with his new interest.

You had been with the rest of the guys when the trainee girl's group had met with 3Racha for some production help.

And needless to say the boys treated the group with respect minus the trainee who had messed around with your boyfriend. The passiveness aggressiveness from Jisung and Chan and the complete lack off attention Changbin gave the specfic girl didn't go unnoticed by her, nor the group. But as her group had no clue of her actions, nor did the girl have a clue of Chris' relation to you; they were all at a loss.

As the girls had settled into the studio, Chan greeted them with his usual warm demeanor, but when his gaze landed on the trainee who had been involved with your ex, his expression subtly tightened.

"Let’s hear what you’ve got," Chan said, gesturing for the group to play their track. His voice was friendly as he addressed the other trainees, and they beamed at his encouragement.

The song began to play, and the first few verses flowed smoothly. Chan nodded along, occasionally glancing at the screen in front of him to follow the track. When it was time for the problematic trainee’s verse, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Chan’s expression grew hard as her part filled the studio.

As soon as her verse ended, Chan paused the track abruptly. The room went silent, the sudden stop causing the girls to exchange nervous glances.

"That part right there," Chan said, his voice calm but laced with an unmistakable edge, "is a complete mess. The flow is all over the place, and it’s missing any sort of cohesion with the rest of the song. It’s like it doesn’t even belong there."

The trainee's face paled, but before she could respond, Jisung chimed in. "Honestly, it’s pretty horrendous. It feels like you’re trying too hard to stand out, but instead, you’re just not fitting in." His words were blunt, his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Changbin, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "There’s no emotion behind your rap. It’s flat, lifeless. If you can’t bring some genuine feeling into your performance, it’s going to drag the whole group down." He didn’t bother to look at her as he delivered his critique, his attention already shifting back to the other trainees.

The other girls sat in stunned silence, clearly uncomfortable with the harshness of the feedback directed at their group mate. But Chan, Jisung, and Changbin seemed entirely unfazed, moving on as if the criticism they’d just given was nothing out of the ordinary.

As they continued reviewing the track, Chan made sure to lavish praise on the other members of the group. "Great job with that harmony, really tight," he said to one of the other trainees, his smile genuine and encouraging. "And your timing is spot on," Jisung added to another, his voice warm and approving.

But when it came to the problematic trainee, it was like she wasn’t even in the room. The boys would skip over her entirely, asking the other members about their parts or offering advice, all while completely ignoring her presence.

At one point, the girl tried to ask a question, her voice small and hesitant. "Chan-oppa, do you think if I adjusted the rhythm a bit here, it would—"

Chan cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Honestly, there’s not much you can do to fix it," he said, not even bothering to look up from the console. "It’s not about tweaking one part. The whole thing just… doesn’t work. Also it isn't Chan-oppa to you, I would suggest you learn to rrspect your superiors or you'll make a bad image for JYPE. Although it seems like you might have already..." Changbin and Jisung gave sarcastic faces and chuckles as Chan turned back to the soundboard, leaving, the girls confused as to how one of their members had already been completely iced out by three of the best producers in the industry.

And it wasn't much better in the upcoming days, your ex boyfriend feeling the wrath of Lee Minho as he demeaned the leader's dancing ability and took his ego down a couple of notches.

"Your dancing is immaculate...for someone who is destined to be a backup dancer for JYP." When the boy stuttered, asking for help Lee Know just gave him a cold shoulder and turned his focus to the other members of the group, praising them for their skills.

And to top it off they were both met with swayed public opinion after Seungmin decided to make a few passive aggressive comments in one of his lives.

"Yeah, I've talked to all the new trainee groups. But the boy group? They're good but if I had a bias it wouldn't be their leader. And I like the new girl group, they remind me of a group like Blackpink, but their rapping isn't like Blackpink. The only similarity they have is they're both maknaes." He pinched his fingers gently. "Maybe this much progress. Being an idol is hard." He dismissed the skill of the rapper; that woman so easily and said it all so quickly fans were confused.

seungmins.untied.left.shoe: Why does Seungmin seem mad?

big.binn3e_jiddie.tiddi3s: What did he say someone translate?

lalalalalisa143: BLACKPINK MENTIONED RAHHHHHH

You spent your time off going to work with Chan. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, and not going to do anything to hurt yourself. And being around the boys did help you feel better.

But strangely it was Jeongin who helped the most.

Chris had yet to clean his front seat oddly, so every morning you were in the back with Jeongin. It was odd that something so simple brought you so much comfort. He had noticed you were skipping breakfast, so every morning he brought you a homemade yogurt and fresh fruit drink.

"Mmm! This is really sweet! You must have gotten fresh fruit!" You sipped happily, blissfully unaware that Jeongin would add in two extra scoops of sugar, and taste it every time to make sure it was sweet enough, even if it made his jaw hurt slightly.

Or how he would make sure to ask the staff to order you food at 3:45, since you were always hungry.

Or how he would purposefully leave out his jacket in the sound room, since he knew you always got cold in there.

Or most importantly how he made sure you would never have to run into either of the two people you diliked, by figuring out their schedules, and making sure you were no where near where they would be.

He was quietly loving a supporting you from afar, and while you may have been oblivious to the action, you weren't oblivious to the feeling; even if you hadn't pinpointed just where it was coming from.

But as your vacation time was winding down, Jeongin decided to treat you.

"Y/N, Channie-Hyung is working with the others right now, but I've already recorded my part. He gave us his card." He waved it and grew a mischievous grin. "Want to go get strawberry cheesecake?"

"I love strawberry cheesecake!" You exclaimed, jumping up on your toes twice.***

"I know that's why I suggested it pabo!" He laughed as you made your way to the cafe near the building.

Soon enough you were standing in line, waiting to order. Jeongin was behind you, wearing a mask and beanie that covered all of his hair minus the small tuffs of black hair at the nape of his neck.

He had an odd feeling, as if someone was watching him and you. But he shrugged it off, since he doubted anyone would recognize him. With what he was wearing. He looked like any normal person on a date.

Date...this couldn't be considered a date could it? He smiled under his mask as he moved forward in the line absentmindedly. Well, maybe it isn't a date but it sure does look like one to outsiders. Ha, they're probably so jealous that I'm with someone as beautiful as Y/n-

"Hey do you-" You let out a small "oop" since you hadn't realized how closely Jeongin was standing behind you, which in turn allowed you to fling your hair at him, getting a large strand tangles in a button miraculously.

"Ah.." You groaned, your ear to his chest slightly. You tried to pull away but the cashier called "next" and Jeongin moved up not realizing your hair was stuck and accidentally letting it get tangled more. He winced when he noticed but saw the growing population in the cafe and just moved his large hand up to cup your head gently.

"Sorry, Nabi." He whispered quietly, not even realizing the pet name slipped out. Your eyes widened and you stayed with your ear pressed against his chest, hearing the rumbles as he ordered for both of you.

His heart thumped with a steady rhythm, and you were more than sure that your heartbeat was far from that.

Rather it was erratic and loud and wild.

Nabi. He had called you so sweetly, so purely. With the gentleness of what he called you. Butterfly.

After he finished ordering and paid, he stepped aside with you to help get your hair unstuck.

His long and slender fingers worked as quickly and as gently as they could. He released the top button so he could get to the root of the problem.

"Almost...tell me if I'm pulling too hard, m'kay?" Only his eyes were visible above his mask, but they harbored something you couldn't pinpoint, something you weren't used to.

After the last piece of hair was untangled his eyes narrowed in happiness.

"All free!" The way his voice sounded made your stomach twirl in a good and warm way. But you didn't think much of it.

It must be since he's being kind...

After your order number was called out Jeongin and you chose a two-person table away from the people, so he could take of his mask and enjoy his dessert.

He set your cheesecake in front of you, and his pastry in front of himself, handing you a fork.

The moment he pulled down his mask he had an odd feeling once more. But ignored it once more in favor of watching your immense joy as you devoured your treat.

"Thank you." You said in between a bite. "It's been rought the past few weeks...but...I've found comfort in being around all of you guys. To be honest I kind of relied on Chris and my ex to be the closest to me but...we're really close too."

Your smile warmed his heart, and he opened his mouth to speak. "Y/N I have some-"

"It's nice to be able to go out to a cafe and not feel scared. There was always this one sasaeng who followed my ex around..." You hummed thoughtfully. "It's nice not to be on edge."

Jeongin paused. "Sasaeng?" He said quietly.

You nodded. "She was obsessed with him. I got a threat from her once...I didn't take anything from it because I knew she wouldn't act on it but still was a little nerve racking." You looked up and saw a worried expression on the boys face. "Inni-"

His eyes had connected with a phone that was sticking out of purse in a discreet manner.

"Y/N what did she look like."

Your eyes widened and trailed to where Jeongin was looking. She wasn't facing in your direction but you knew.

"We gotta go." He said pulling his mask up. "Don't move to quickly though just act normal." You got up and made you way out.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't think she would follow me if I wasn't with him-"

"You're fine Nabi, it isn't your fault." He said as you made your way back through a back way.

He instinctively grabbed you your wrist to lead you, his grasp gentle but firm, his hand sliding down into yours as he pulled you along.

By the time you made it back to the building there was a slight buzz and while Jeongin immediately went to look for his Hyung, you went to go with Felix.

There was definitely and underlying issue going on, and you wondered if the sasaeng had already leaked photos or videos to the press.

Felix tried his best to quell your worries but nothing would do. You felt as if you just caused an issue that would ruin Stray Kid's reputation Jeongin's reputation.

You left Felix to go pace around, which proved to be the wrong idea. The minute you turned the corner you ran into the one man you didn't want to see, the one who has sparked a chain reaction of issues.

He sneered at you, getting close to you, causing you to flinch slightly.

"You happy Y/N, huh? You happy that you're going to ruin my fucking career?!" His voice rose and you slunk back even more. His hand immediately went to your chin and pushed your face up harshly.

He was angrier than on the night you caught him, and it scared you.

"You're trying to throw away my life's work!" He steeped even closer, his grip tightening. "I'm not going to let that happen you hear me?" He shoved you as you were stepping back, causing you to lose your balance completely and fall backwards, landing on the ground, your ankle twisting in an uncomfortable - but not entirely odd - fashion.

Before you could even look up you heard a sickening crunch and your ex stumbled back. Within seconds he was up again lunging at whoever punched him but just as quickly as all this happened you were be scooped up and Jeongin and your ex were both being restrained. Two of the Day6 members held back your ex while three NEXZ members held back Jeongin as he was yelling profanities at the one who had shoved you. Their arguing voices were loud enough to have those in the surrounding halls come rushing in and security on site. Both boys were trying to get at each other, and security had to break it up, the anger of your friend making it extremely hard for them to restrain him.

"YOU FUCKING COWARD! FIGHT ME LIKE A REAL MAN INSTEAD OF PUTTING YOUR HANDS ON A GIRL!" He shouted. You saw Chan, Minho and Changbin rushing over. Jeongin was still yelling insults, getting out of the grips of those pushing him back. So Changbin instead pushed through to wrap his arms around the baby of their group, easily lifting him as he flailed.

"Let me at him Hyung! Let me at him!" He reminded you of an angry chihuahua. But on a larger scale. He wasn't a fighter, but he had immediately turned to violence when you got involved.

The lobby area was filled with people now and Jeongin was crying inpure anger and overwhelming emotions.

"Let me at him!"

Changbin stood in front of the door of the room they brought Jeongin and and Christopher went to go scold him for his actions. Gentle but firm nonetheless.

"You can't hit people Jeongin, regardless of how much you want to. Trust me I want to hit that bastard everytime I see him."

"He hit Y/N! I'm tired of him. I'm tired of hearing talk shit about someone I love! I wasn't going to let him hit someone I love!"

Bangchan stiffened when Jeongin mentioned the word hit.

His jaw clenched and he wiped a few tears off of Jeongin's cheek before stepping out of the room. Minho sat next to Jeongin and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

Your mind was racing at a million thought a minute, but they were all tracing back to what Jeongin had said.

Love. Love. Love.

You sat down alongside the wall until staff came in and whisked Jeongin away, without as much as a word. You stood up abd tried to follow but Minho stopped you.

Love. Love. Love.

"Will he be fired?" You heard yourself ask. You didn't hear Minho's response as your mind became loud again.

If he gets fired...it's because he defended me. Out of love. Love.

You swallowed and followed Minho back to his and Jisung's dorm the latter asking questions about the situation he missed.

If he's fired its because of love. Love will ruin his career. It's my fault. What a stupid thing that makes people do stupid shit. Irrational.

Love.

What a horrendous thing.

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[aphrogeneias]

it's been seven hours and fifteen days —

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (soulmate!au)

summary: it's new years eve, and as the year comes to an end, so do a lot of other things.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff and a lot of angst. brief sexual assault (by an unnamed patron). a little bit of violence. mention of a gun (as a joke, very quickly). a cliffhanger. stobin (platonic with a capital p) appreciation.

author's note: it's been a long time, but the show must go on. i hope you enjoy it! <3 also, please don't hate after you're done with this, 'kay? pinky promise.

series masterlist

Steve and Robin surprised you with a visit right before New Year’s Eve of 1991.

Surprised isn't the word, in fact. They had both been dropping hints about coming over to see you whenever you'd talk on the phone for a few weeks then, especially since Eddie came back to your life. You were trying to not worry them, to not bring up the subject too often, but they knew you better than you knew yourself.

In the same way Eddie once knew you too.

On the morning of the 30th, you were woken up by several insisting knocks on your apartment door. Those were unexpected in themselves, since no one used to visit you. Especially at that time of day, after a long Sunday night shift. Your roommate was out of town for the holidays, and even then, it wasn’t like there were people coming in and out of your home on Monday mornings.

Mornings were for sleeping in and recovering from the buzzing in your ears left by way too loud live music — Linda would always say you'd all end up deaf, but you couldn't think of a better way of eventually losing your hearing — and standing on your feet since the afternoon. However, that particular Monday morning was different than any other.

Stumbling out of bed, you inwardly cursed whoever was bothering you this early, when you'd just gotten to bed. From the other side of the door, you could hear two people arguing. “Stop knocking! You've already woken up the whole building!”, one of them said, in a frazzled whisper-shout. The other responded, in an almost bored tone, “And she might still be asleep.”

You'd never yanked the lock open that fast in your life.

Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, with bags under their eyes and bags on the floor by their feet, stood on your doorstep. Their matching smiles staring right back at you.

“What are you doing here?” You gasped, launching yourself forward, involving both of them with your arms around their shoulders in an awkward group hug.

“We were long overdue for a road trip to see you.” Steve sounded tired as he squeezed you back.

“The old Beemer almost didn't make it.” Robin commented as you pulled away.

“I’d kill both of you for surprising me like this on my day off but I'm too happy to care right now.” You were already pulling their bags inside and closing the door, leading them in.

“Can we take a nap first? I'd rather be killed while I'm well rested.”

The cold, early morning sun shining through the window curtains made that sight even more surreal. Robin already lying on your couch, and Steve sitting himself on the floor in front of it, resting his head on the seat. You smiled through the sleepy fog that still lingered behind your eyes.

“That can be arranged.”

They slept through the morning and a little into the afternoon, which gave you time to sleep too.

After you were all awake and they'd settled their luggage in your room, showered and changed, it was time for an improvised breakfast for lunch with whatever you had in your fringe. Frozen waffles, scrambled eggs and plenty of coffee.

You sat around the small, square table in your kitchen while you listened to them talk about everything, everyone, you'd left behind. About running into your mom at Bradley’s Big Buy, about the kids going to college, — and how Robin hopes Dustin never follows any of Steve's advice, much to his chagrin — about Robin’s life in the city and Steve’s struggle to let go of the past.

Some things would never change, even when they did most drastically.

You didn't speak about yourself, content in just hearing them talk, basking in their warm presence. Until Robin asked, “What about Eddie, huh?”

“Yeah, what about Eddie?” Steve repeated, trying to act casually while he filled his mug with more coffee. It was never his strong suit.

You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. “What about Eddie?”

“Can't we ask how he's doing? How are the two of you doing?” Robin mirrored your position, grinning at you.

“There's no two of us, nothing’s changed in that regard, before you ask.” You sighed, “And Eddie… Eddie is doing great. The band is doing great, they're getting good traction with the public, the bar has been more and more crowded each weekend. It's just a matter of time until they get a better offer as a resident band, or from a label. I'm happy for him, for them.” You quickly corrected yourself.

“What about you? Are you happy?”

You couldn't help but smile at Steve's question. “It's bittersweet, I think. I grew used to having him around again, some days it's like I haven't even left, but I know it's got an expiration date hanging over us all over again. It's good to have him while I can, you know? I try not to think too much about it.”

“No use in telling him, then?” Robin finally breached the subject, you knew that was where they were trying to get all along.

You shake your head. “No, there never was, really. It's what I told you guys five years ago and it hasn't changed. Eddie doesn't want a soulmate, even if it's…”

“Not even if it's you? I really doubt that.” Steve interjected.

“Especially if it's me. Especially now, after everything I did. It's not fair to him.”

They exchanged a look then, one of those looks Robin and Steve shared that no one but then could really tell what it meant. It was enviable, really, to be that understood by someone. You once knew what that was like.

Before either of them could say anything, something shifted at the table. Subtle, like a soft gust of air, but you knew the feeling. You knew it well, and when you looked down between the empty plate of waffles and your barely touched cup of coffee, sat something that wasn't there a moment ago.

A woven leather bracelet, with a simple silver clasp. It was slightly worn, clearly well loved. There was no question where it came from.

You picked it up, letting it hang from your pointer finger.

“Is that… his?” Steve broke the silence.

A tired sigh left your lips from deep within your chest. “Who else could it be from?”

One more for the box.

As seemed like a pattern that day, you got woken up again, this time by the phone ringing.

Robin was sleeping in your roommate’s bedroom — because what she doesn't won't hurt her — and Steve was dead asleep, snoring on your couch. He didn't budge as you picked up the bright blue receiver from where it hung from the wall.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

Eddie's tone did not indicate he was even a bit remorseful — you could practically see the dimples forming around his lips stretched in a charming smirk, his body leaning against the telephone booth.

“You didn't call me to ask that.”

Little did he know you had a matching smile on your own lips.

“You’re right. Jus’ wanna hear your adorable, middle of the night voice.”

“Asshole.” You scoffed, and if your face felt a little hot, you tried to ignore it. “What's up?”

“You wanna go help me put up some posters over on the Strip? Linda said we need all the marketing we can get for New Year’s, and I could use some help.”

“And your dear bandmates can't help because…?”

“Didn't ask them. I'm asking you.”

“Why? Missed my pretty face that much? You saw me yesterday, man.”

“Jesus…” He sighed, overdramatic and loud, as you'd expect. “Just get your cute butt over here, I'm waiting at the next corner.”

You giggled, again, not being able to help yourself. “I knew it.”

Most days, you liked to tell yourself you shouldn't get too attached. Eddie would soon be leaving again, on a tour bus to brave the country — with how much people they'd been attracting to The Deuce, it was only a matter of time until one of them was a producer scouting for their label’s next big hit.

You told yourself that, if he didn't leave, then you would. You'd done it once, there was no harm in doing it again.

You realized you liked lying to yourself more than you were previously aware of.

Lying to yourself was what you did when you were crammed into the passenger seat of Jeff’s old car, less conspicuous than the beat-up behemoth Eddie calls a van, scouring the city for the best spot to tack some concert posters. The late night radio tune the background of your laughter, inside jokes returning like second nature, the red string tightening around your pinky finger.

It was what you did when he held your hand to make you walk the streets faster, trying to cover more ground through the night, the same way that he used to when you played together. When he asked you to sit on his shoulders to attach posters to places higher than either of you could reach, and his hands rested warm on your thighs. When you ended the night at the same diner you did every morning, sleepy eyes meeting over hot coffee mugs.

Closer each day, still pretending to be far.

Holidays were never a busy time at The Deuce, which meant that the crowd at that New Year's Eve party was something you'd never seen before.

Being one of the smaller, lesser known clubs at the Strip, your parties were always a bit more inconspicuous. Smaller bands, smaller crowds, a lot less trouble. For some reason — and you suspected it was due to the news of a certain frontman’s charisma spreading through the city like wildfire — everything you expected was turned upside down this year.

Tickets were sold out that afternoon, and the bouncer had manager to squeeze in a few more people waiting in line. All pretty girls, of course. You had drinks to sell, after all.

The beginning of the night went as smoothly as you could manage. You got in earlier than usual, as did the rest of the staff, and by the time people started rolling in, you barely had time to greet Robin and Steve, who promptly found a place to sit further from the stage.

It was funny, seeing all of your old friends under the same roof again, even if it was just for one night. The boys came from backstage to say hello for a moment, and it was almost like being back at The Hideout again, with those same old drunks, and much less history between all of you. If you closed your eyes, it was almost like being there again.

If you looked closely, though, the strained smiles and awkward small talk amidst your closest friends and Eddie told you everything would never be the same again, not even if you tried.

A new year, a new life. Wishes to make, though yours was always the same.

You tried to shake that feeling, though, and concentrate on work. On the buzzing, electric feeling in the air, on the loud chatter and the music the DJ was playing in the background, on the eminent excitement for midnight to come.

Your wish happened to come out of backstage again that evening right before the band came on, wrapping one arm around your shoulder while you carried an empty tray towards the bar.

Your heart raced as he leaned closer, voice lowered for your ears only. “Do you see that guy over there?”

He pointed at a man sitting by himself, close to the stage — as close as he could get without getting into the crowd that was already forming in front of it. He looked like a mixture of Kim Fowley and a Ken doll, nothing too out of the ordinary for the men you saw regularly here, but he was definitely not a regular.

“Who is that?” You whispered back at him as you placed the tray back on the counter. Eddie remained there, with his arm around you, his body learning against your side. You could tell how excited he was by the wild grin on his face.

“He's here for us. Linda called on some favors with an old friend who knows people, and… voi-fucking-lá. We have an in.”

“Good luck, then.” You smiled, turning to fully look at him. “You're gonna need it.”

You were not expecting it when he left a lingering kiss on your forehead before walking away.

If there was a strange feeling growing on the back of your throat, you tried your best to ignore it. It stayed there as you watched Corroded Coffin perform what you thought was their best night there, their music rising and rising the crowd until they broke like a wave, manic guitars and heavy drums working them for their own pleasure.

It stayed until the clock struck midnight, and Eddie threw a kiss at you from the stage, and you pretended to catch it in the air and place it in your heart. Somehow, that felt more intimate than the dozens of couples kissing all around you.

All hell broke loose after the band left the stage.

The DJ returned, where he would stay until the bar closed, and as everyone scattered around the bar, it was the usual pandemonium you were already used to, but with much more people. The bar was busy, which meant you were busy, but not too busy to sneak a shot or two with Steve and Robin, or watch the former flirt with Heather behind the bar.

Eddie and the boys were all around, talking to everybody. It felt nice to see them in their element, especially Eddie with his big gestures and loud personality — he was right at home, there. It felt even nicer when you managed to cross each other, his hands always finding a way to touch you, to let you know he was there.

As good nights, though, that one also had to come to an end.

It started to crumble when you had a full tray of beers, and a man bumped into you. You tripped, but didn't fall, thanks to all the practice you'd had. The man grabbed your waist, then, harshly. “Whoa, there! Falling for me already?”

“You wish. Let go.” You responded, curly, already trying to escape. It wasn't the first time you dealt with one of these types, and it wouldn't be the last. Keeping your cool was the best you could do in a situation like this.

“Not yet. Let me show you a good time, baby.”

“I said let me fucking go.” You gritted through your teeth. Some people around started to notice, and it wasn't long until they started staring. His hands started to lower on your hips, whining some you couldn't understand through slurred speech, until you felt someone push the man's shoulder.

“She said let go, man. You heard it the first time.”

“Not right now, pretty boy.” He pointed at Eddie, and you saw an opportunity to pull yourself away, and didn't resist stepping on his foot, hard.

“Asshole. Get the fuck out of here.”

The man’s face grew red with pain, and anger, no doubt. “Bitch!”

You heard Eddie let out a bitter laugh before his face was flying at the man’s face, who upon impact, lost balance and barrelled into you again, but with full force this time, sending the beers on your tray flying, glass shattering on the floor, and beer spilling onto you.

It was like being in the middle of a hurricane. Eddie fought the guy, who was already on the floor, as the boys came running to drag Eddie away. Robin, with Steve on her tow, pulled a startled you by the hand and away from there. Her and Heather lead you towards Linda’s office at the back, but all you wanted was to look back.

In your haste, you'd left the door unlocked.

The bathroom inside the small office room was cramped, but better than the ones outside. Robin had offered to come in with you, but you wanted to cool off alone. She waited outside as you attempted to clean yourself, your black top hanging from the sink as you wiped the drink off your chest with paper towels.

Your heart still beating fast in your eardrums, though the adrenaline was starting to wear off, made you tremble a bit, a cold shiver going through your body. You didn't know if it was relief that nothing worse happened, or if it was the phantom memory of Eddie’s hands gripping your body close to his.

You sighed, looking at your disheveled self in the blurry, dirty mirror.

The door handle rattled behind you, and you answered without looking. “I'll be right out, Rob.”

“Buckley is outside with Harrington and the bartender chick.” There's a slightly injured hand, free of the usual rings adorning it, holding the door a few inches open, and a face obscured by overgrown bangs. “Can I come in?”

Through your daze, you made yourself a reminder to trim Eddie’s hair when you could.

Sensing his hesitation, you smiled as best as you could through your reflection, feeling too vulnerable to look back. “Yeah. Of course.”

Quietly, — too quietly for Eddie — he came in and the door clicked closed behind him, but he didn't move, staying still with his back against it. You realized he was probably trying to make himself smaller, as to not scare you even further. Your heart grew warm while your body still shivered.

“Is everyone alright?”

When you turned, you noticed you were mirroring each other's positions. Trying to stay as far as possible in that tight space, arms pressed to yourselves, as the red string between you pulled and pulled and pulled, strained to the point of breaking.

It didn't, it wouldn't.

“Yeah, they kicked the guy out. Uh… I kicked the guy out, actually, and the guys helped, but yeah.” He chuckled nervously. You couldn't see them, but if you had to guess, the tips of his ears would be bright red. “Linda threatened him to never come back with that pistol she keeps under her desk, you should have seen it.”

You giggled despite yourself, “Man, how could I have missed that.”

“Are you alright?” Big brown eyes stared at you from across the small room and, as they always did, disarmed you completely.

“I'm alright.” You turned again, reaching to give your wet top a thorough squeeze before putting it on again. “Didn't get hurt, just got wet…”

You forced a laugh, but Eddie didn't return the sentiment. When you looked back again, he wasn't looking at you anymore.

He was crouching, picking something off the floor. The ceiling light wasn't on, just the yellow one over the mirror, and you struggled to see what it was until he straightened himself up, shuffling on his boots. The first thing you noticed on his right hand was a silver chain, and at the end of it, a red guitar pick. It must have fallen while you took your top off in a hurry.

You knew it like the back of your own hand. It was slightly chipped at the bottom, the scaly red slowly losing its former glossy finish, the faded Fender logo at the center of it.

You knew he knew it too.

“Where did you get this?”

A hand stretched between you, like a long corridor in a dream. Just within your line of sight, but unreachable. The necklace hung from it, limp, its silver chain glinting in the yellow light of the flickering lamp.

When you didn't answer, Eddie’s voice hardened. “I'm not gonna ask again.”

Your eyes were focused on the red guitar pick, not on his face. You swallowed hard, “I think you already know.”

“No, I don't.” He emphasizes it with your name, and it hurts you to hear it. The atmosphere changed completely, then. “I lost this years ago after a show in Indy, but you were already gone. Where did you get it?”

Eddie's voice trembled with something you only describe as betrayal. There was grief too, somewhere in there. Your shattered heart ached, but you couldn't find it in yourself to say something. Anything.

“What have you been hiding from me?” He had never sounded this quiet. It scared you.

“Nothing you don't already know.” You mumble, staring at the floor. “Like I said, I think you already know.”

Frustrated, he stomps his feet, but you don't flinch. “Goddamnit! Just tell me. Tell me. I want to hear it from you.”

“So, you do know?”

Narrowed eyes met in the middle. The red string tensed, and bent — does it break? Could it, ever? Sometimes you wished you could snap it. For his sake, not yours. But all it did was stretch impossibly tighter, like the fist that closed itself around your heart.

“I don't…” Eddie's eyes glistened in the dark, whiskey dark, swimming in murky waters. “I feel like I don't know you like I thought I did.”

You broke first, approaching the door with trembling legs, like a deer in headlights. The two of you stared at each other closely for what felt like more than just a mere moment, unsaid things hanging heavy in the air.

“Did you ever?”

It doesn't break, but bends, and bends, and bends.

[lowkeyrobin]

hi could you please write smth about accidentally revealing your relationship with quackity? preferably with cc!reader <3

of course!! thanks for the request 🫶 ; ik I did a preference about accidentally revealing relationships but doing a little different thing and going in depth w it was fun!

QUACKITY ; softlaunch ❌ hardlaunch ✅

summary ; you and Alex accidentally reveal your relationship

warnings ; language, little bit of buzzed ranting, use of pet names (babe)

genre ; fluff

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You and Alex have been together for about ten-ish months, keeping it on the low since you'd been traveling around for QSMP meetups, events, and the Streamer Awards for a little bit.

You'd finally gotten home, your shared apartment with Alex, with Cellbit and Roeir tagging along. The three were planning to make a 'trying mexican candies' video in the morning while you were planning to edit and maybe stream til you felt tired enough to quit and sleep. The three guys sit out in the living room, watching some TV show as they sprawl out on the couch, buzzed from the aftermath of award winning.

You were more than proud for your boyfriend, but it being so late now, and your need for comfort after being overstimulated for hours on end, called for a little alone time. You sit in your office, the clock reading 1:30am as you hit the Go Live button on your stream.

You decided to chill out behind the closed door, just chatting with whatever viewers were still awake at this hour, or were just beginning their day, depending on timezones. After five minutes, you greet your chat, snacking on some cookies you'd picked up from the store before returning home earlier, a glass of milk sitting on your desk next to the plastic box.

You sit in your very comfortable chair with a QuackityHQ hoodie, with the signature duck in the corner and design on the back, and some long, patterned pj pants, colored dark blue and black with a floral design. They were thin enough to wear in the warm heat, which was perfect for you. You looked tired but didn't really feel that way, like your eyes were sewn open from adrenaline and happiness.

"Good morning, everyone" You chuckle, "Alex just won an award, feeling good! He, Cellbit and Roier got some drinks and have been watching TV on the couch, so sorry if you can hear them. I closed the door just in case but don't mind any shouting or music"

Your chat explodes with messages, congratulating you, even though you lost in your category, and spamming hearts and heart hands emojis. Someone sends in a small donation, asking for clarification why they were at your house.

"Oh, Alex didn't wanna drive all the way back to his place and he had his car parked here from earlier. He drove the other two and we all left together. They're staying the night" You nod, clarifying with a little bit of lying, not wanting to slip up.

You'd known for a while that Alex was just a secretive person over the smallest things, and he didn't know why. You were totally fine being open about your relationship with friends, but made sure to respect boundaries for him. He reassured you in his own panic that he wasn't embarrassed to be with you and didn't want to hide his love for you often.

He explained it in simplest terms as he was weirdly secretive and he didn't want his weirdo stans attacking you or only watching you for him, he didn't want to ruin your fanbase that you built from the ground up. You'd been friends since forever, a good percentage (if not all, then most) of your fans also watched Quackity's content, which kind of made sense to you, but you didn't question it.

"But yeah, it was fun, just like... there were so many people, and so much was happening all at once and shit. I'm just trying to calm down and get tired." You lightly smile, taking a bite of one of your cookies. "I'm so proud of everyone who won and everyone who was nominated, good night for everyone"

You sit and talk to your chat for a while, occasionally listening to the trio's laughter outside your office. Before you can even snap your head around to inform whoever entered that you were live, they were already speaking, slightly laughing, and stumbling.

"Babe, oh my God, I'm so sorry! I accidentally dropped one of your plates in the kitchen and it fucking shattered everywhere, I'm so sorry. I cleaned it up, I just wanted to tell you than wait for you to notice and make you mad, I'm sorry, Y/n/n"

Your jaw hangs slightly agape, and you stare with a silent expression. You slowly turn back to your stream, the chat absolutely exploding with messages. You saw probably a hundred first time chatters even making an expression about it.

"Lex, I'm live" You speak between your teeth, muting your mic. "Ah- uh, it's, it's fine"

He quickly regains his composure, staring over at you, then looking over to your PC, showing that you were a thousand percent live and five thousand people heard him say that. By the morning, it'd be all over Twitter and YouTube Shorts and TikTok, people were already clipping it.

"Shit"

"Alex, holy shit"

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, trying to rationalize what to do. Cell and Roier bust into the office as well, seeing both of you silent before asking, where you both talk over each other very loudly to try and explain.

They both look over to your monitors, confirming you were live. They both laugh in a light hearted way, looking to Quackity.

"You're cooked, dude"

"Rest in peace"

"You say that like I'm embarrassed to be with them, I mean, it's not like that... I think. Y/n, are you embarrassed to be with me? I'm not embarrassed to be with you, I wanna post pictures of us on adventures and experiencing shit so people can see us for us and what we are-"

"My brother in Christ" You sigh with a chuckle, rubbing your temples. "It's said and done, it's fine. And no, I'm not embarrassed to be with you" You turn back to your stream, unmuting yourself under the red LED lights and lamp on your desk.

You sigh and shrug before speaking, throwing your hands up halfway in defense.

"Y/s/n real"

[cryptidghostgirl]

Music (Lute x Reader)

Paring: Lute x Reader

Description: Y/n has been dating Lute for years. After her girlfriend gets home from the most recent extermination, she tries to talk to Lute about the person being around Adam makes her.

Warnings: I know that the description makes this sound angsty and like they're gonna fight but its actually really sweet. Fluff. Just fluff.

Word Count: 829, short and fluffy.

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I came up with this when I couldn't sleep last night. I just think it'd be cute. (Listen, I could fix her.)

"I don't like who you are around him."

Lute let the door fall shut behind her. Her whole body ached and was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, demon blood, and grime. As her eyes fell on her girlfriend, laying on the bed casually with a book loosely clutched between her gentle fingers, she scoffed.

"This again?"

"Yeah." Y/n nodded, closing her book and putting it to the side as she got up off the bed, "I don't like it. He makes you..."

"He makes me what?" Lute spat back.

She was tired. The extermination had taken a lot out of her, been so much to deal with. Lute didn't mean to lash out like this, she just couldn't deal with it right now. It was all too much.

"He... just... when you spend too much time with Adam, you start acting different. I don't know."

"Well, not like I really have much of a choice." Lute exclaimed in exhasperation, letting her mask and her spear fall to the floor by the doorway she still stood in.

"No, I know." Y/n hurried to correct herself, getting to her feet, "I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry."

"Whatever."

Lute stalked off into the bathroom. The drying blood felt tight against her skin, she was exhausted. The fact that she knew Y/n was right on some level, that being around Adam did change her, made her more volatile and rude, only fueled her anger. The truth was, without him goading her on, Lute would never do half the terrible things she did.

She began to unhook her armor, letting it fall haphazardly to the marble floor of the bathroom. Lute shot the doorway a glance as she heard a slight rustle of fabric. Y/n stood there, leaning against the frame with her arms around her waist, watching.

"What?" Lute grumbled.

With a sigh, Y/n straightened herself and crossed the room. Turning on the shower, she stuck her hand under the water as she messed with the temperature, trying to make sure it wasn't too hot.

"Look, Music, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start something, I know you've had a long day. We'll talk about it later."

There it was, Music. Y/n had called her that since the minute they'd made things official. When Lute had asked her where the nickname had come from, she'd smiled softly and said something about her being art. Not the overlooked instrument, but the masterpiece that comes from it. All the fight slipped out of her.

Taking the chainmail off from beneath her plated armor, Lute walked over to her girlfriend. Y/n let out a short gasp of surprise as she snaked her hands around her waist, leaning her head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I snapped." Lute admitted, her cheeks flushed pink.

Apologies had never been her strong suit. Y/n smiled. Taking her hand out from under the water, she gently took Lute's arms from her waist. Turning to face her head on, Y/n held her hands in hers.

"I shouldn't have pushed it, Muse."

Muse. Y/n’s inspiration, her guiding light. How could Lute have forgotten? All the chaos, all the blood on her hands, and still -- Y/n loved her. Through all the bad, she somehow found the good.

"No, no." Lute looked away bashfully, "You were right. I... I just don't know how to get out of this. There is a person I have to be when I'm around him and... I don't like her either."

"Hey hey hey! Pretty girl!" Y/n exclaimed, dropping her hands and instead holding Lute's face gently, turning it to face her own once again, "We will figure it out. Together, we always do. All I ask of you is that you don't bring it home."

"I know, I wont anymore. It's not fair to you, I know."

"Promise?"

"Promise." Lute nodded.

Y/n smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as she let her hands fall from Lute's cheeks. Lute caught them in their descent to Y/n's sides and, leaning back in, kissed her lips gently in return. Y/n's cheeks were flushed a pretty pink when Lute leaned away a few seconds later.

"Damn, how many years has it been and you still get all flustered?" Lute teased.

"Oh, hush." Y/n waved her off, looking away, "Take a shower, you smell like... like..."

"Demon blood and sweat?"

"Yeah." Y/n nodded apologetically, meeting Lute's eyes.

Lute laughed. Somehow, Y/n just had a way of making her feel better. It could be the worst day in the world and coming home to that girl would make it all go away.

"I love you." she whispered as steam began to fill the bathroom from the hot shower.

Lute wrapped her arms around Y/n's waist, holding her close.

"Always, Lute." Y/n confirmed, nuzzling her forehead into Lute's shoulder, "Always."

[erinfern0]

roommates to lovers.

kyle "gaz" garrick x gn!reader

summary: getting a roommate seems like the best idea to help you with financial problems, especially with expensive rent, bills, and all. Kyle seems like the perfect fit, maybe not just as your roomie.

warnings: just sweet fluff, maybe a tiny bit emotional.

a/n: this is the first addition to my series of trope-based COD fics, let me know if you'd like to know the full list of my ideas before I post the fics as a masterlist!! Don't mind possible mistakes, I'll fix them tomorrow. I'm just a little tipsy now, but I really wanted to post this already!!

Barely getting ends to meet, you search the internet for possibilities of making your situation better. That's how you get the idea — finding yourself a roommate might at least help your financial issues a bit. You find some groups and chats for people looking for places to stay, and you stumble upon Kyle. A guy who knows it's better to share an apartment since most of the time he's away on deployment, so it's way cheaper than buying one for himself. Looking through his application, you found him interesting, to say the least.

Young sergeant, a gym rat who likes to cook and doesn't mind taking over all the chores whenever he's back. He doesn't listen to music loudly, likes his place clean and tidy, and seems charismatic. A perfect fit for you — who would get too stressed out if you had to see him every day. But he's home for a couple of days and leaves for deployment, so you don't need to worry that much.

Soon, he moved in with you, and you immediately felt a slight spark between you. You spend so much time together, that you seem to forget how life went without him beside you. Every time you accidentally brush against him in the hallway or in the kitchen, you feel that warm electricity. You start liking him and feel upset since in a few days he'll be gone again.

For the past months, your friends have been teasing you about your 'strange' relationship. How protective and caring he was of you, how you always had to touch each other in some sort of way. They've been mentioning how oblivious you two were and how you're practically a couple already, but you'd just ignore them.

It was only now that you felt they might have been right all along. Just a roommate, a friend at best wouldn't miss him as much as you did and you missed him way more than you thought this time. Getting a message from him didn't help you at all. A simple text, just after midnight, almost made you cry.

Gyle Karrick: It will take longer than expected. Three months, they say. Can't wait to see you again, xoxo

And fuck, you couldn't wait to see him, too.

Weeks passed on numerous phone calls whenever you could get a hold of him through his busy schedule. Lonely meals, mundane chores, and even your passions started to bore you to your limits. One of the few things you were looking forward to was his message. But day after day, you'd experience the same disappointment and worry.

That was until one day you were looking through selfies you took together or pictures of him while he was asleep on the couch while watching a movie. Adorable. Oh, you missed him. Later on that day, you sat in the living room, reading through your notes and textbooks to occupy your mind, as you heard someone try to open the door with their key.

It was late, you thought. That it's just your mind playing tricks on you, but no. Seconds later, he's inside the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible as he thinks you should be sleeping. He sees the lights are on and freezes, unsure how to act. But as soon as you stand up from the couch, he drops the duffle bag he was holding, catching you as you run into his arms.

Unspoken greetings and a warm and tight hug almost made you two fall to the floor. But none of you seem to care, too occupied with hands wrapping around each other's bodies. Kyle looks into your eyes as you lean back, his gaze is so soft, so sweet, you seem to melt with the brown of them.

You're not sure when, but you lean forward, lips catching his. It's quick, he barely registers it. You want to apologize, feeling the warmth of your cheeks, the dizziness in your head. But he comes right back, kissing you again. This time, it's slow and sweet, just as you imagined him to be all those nights when he was away. You reach to his neck, wrapping your arms around it as he cups your face, pulling you closer.

“You're home,” you whisper breathlessly as soon as you pull away, your eyes meeting his lazily. The happiness of your voice makes him chuckle and point out how it was just a couple of months.

He, the sergeant with god-like attractiveness, bright mind, and silly humor, felt the same way you did. Kyle reminded himself of all the lonely nights he spent on deployment, imagining coming back to your shared apartment to see your gorgeous face again, to hear that sweet laugh, and to just enjoy the warmth of your body against his.

None of you expected the kiss or the butterflies flying around in your stomachs that came afterward, but it was more than perfect. His hand gently caressed the single tear that was running down your face and kissed the spot right after.

“You're my home.”

masterlist | request info

[mustainegf]

Okay, I just thought this idea was so cute so I wanted to share - cliff practicing on quieter and calmer songs on the bass while reader lays in bed, so sort of like a lullaby in terms i suppose, and when he climbs into bed she just tells him how good it sounded and which parts of his peices she really liked before they go to sleep

Thank yew elena!!💋

THIS IS SO CUTE AHH since its a short little plot, this is more of a drabble!

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 ¹⁹⁸⁴

Its late, and the sleep tugs at me. Only that soft glow of the moon creeps in through the window. Cliff is sitting on the floor beside the bed, his bass in his hands. I can hear the soft plucking of strings, the way he strokes the notes. He's practicing again, but not the heavy, thrashing kind of music most people know him for. It's softer, more melodic, something that feels like a secret, just for us. I can't see his face where I lie, but I know the expression he'd wear.

Concentrated, yet calm, as though he has slipped into some little world of his own. His fingers trace along the strings so incredibly easily, forming sounds that are calming and almost hypnotic in nature. It's pretty- the way he plays. I can tell even from half asleep just how talented he is. I always think no one hears this side of him but me.

The music floats through the room, slow and gentle, wrapping itself around me like a blanket. I listen with eyes closed, letting the notes sink into my skin. Sometimes I hum along, but I'm too tired for that tonight. The soft plucking of the bass, the buzz of strings here and there, makes some sort of lullaby. I am so at peace, caught in this particular sound and time.

Cliff never plays like this when he's on stage, and that is one thing I always loved about him. He's so different at home, as if there are two versions of him living in two different worlds. He's fierce, wild, and full of energy on the stage. But in the quiet of our bedroom, he's gentle and still. It feels almost like he's giving me a piece of him that no one else ever sees. That makes me feel so fortunate.

After a little while, the music starts to slow down, and I can tell he's winding down. The notes become more infrequent, softer now, almost like whispers. Finally, the music stops, and all I can hear is the quiet hum of the amp. It fades after a moment, replaced by nothing at all.

Cliff eases the bass down gently, oh so quiet, it would appear. I feel the bed dip as he climbs in beside me. His arm wraps around my waist, and I can feel the heat of him beside me. He smells of leather and smoke, familiar and comforting. I smile, even though my eyes are still closed. His fingers trace lazy circles on my back, barely touching but enough to make me shiver.

"You're so good," I mumble. "It was beautiful, like always..."

He laughs softly, almost incredulous. Cliff never takes compliments well, but I say it anyway, every time. He presses a kiss to the back of my neck and sends warmth washing over my skin.

"You really think that?" he asks softly, his voice low.

"Mmhmm, " I manage to get out, too exhausted to say more, but sincere in my tone. I always am. There's just something about the way he plays that feels so special... such talent. Like he's pouring his soul into the strings, and I get to be the one who hears it.

He pulls me closer, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder. I can feel his heartbeat against my back, the pulse steady and slow. It's moments like this that make everything else seem to fade away: long days, tours, chaos-all that seems so very far away when it's just the two of us like this.

I feel myself drifting off again, but I don't want to let this moment go yet. Sleep is pulling me under, and I know I won't be able to fight it for much longer.

"You're amazing," I whisper one last time before it pulls me under. Cliff says nothing, but I feel a smile against my skin as his arms squeeze tighter around me. And in that, I know he understands. He always does. In the dead of night, when the last sounds of his bass have died out completely, I fall asleep in his arms, and I'm at peace.

[blubffsd]

— THE SISTER THAT I NEVER HAD.

summary: where the reader wants to spend a whole day with Ethan to make up for missing his birthday.

note: writing this i realize how much i wanted a little brother

This year you decided to spend the holidays with your family in Montpellier since you hadn't seen them for a long time and you wanted to spend time with them. You would only stay for Christmas to be able to spend the New Year with Kylian and his family and you would return on December 27, to be present for Ethan's birthday. But your grandfather got seriously ill the day before Christmas and was in the hospital until the afternoon of December 29: Ethan's birthday.

You felt very guilty for not being in Paris with him, you had promised him that you would return before his birthday but you didn't expect what happened to your grandfather, who fortunately was fine now.

You sent Ethan thousands of text messages apologizing for not being there and assuring him that you would be back as soon as you could. He told you not to worry, that he understood why you didn't come back and that everything was fine.

You knew your little brother-in-law too well to believe his words.

The conversation with your boyfriend didn't help you calm down at all, so after hugging your grandfather many times, you said goodbye to your family to go to the airport and try to get a flight to Paris.

Luckily there was a flight available in an hour and a half so you sat patiently waiting listening to music.

You hoped you could make it up to Ethan but you didn't know how. Although you thought of many things to do with him and places to visit together you wanted to get a second opinion, so you decided to ask Fayza what to do.

You quickly received a notification of an incoming call from Fayza.

—Hi Fayza, long time no talk –you heard your mother-in-law's laughter over the phone.

—Something bad happened?

—No! It's just, you know, since I wasn't there for Ethan's birthday today, I'd like to make it up to him somehow, and I wanted to see if you could suggest a place to visit or something he wants to do.

—Oh, honey! that's so sweet of you. Of course i will help you.

You let out a squeal of happiness and smiled completely excited.

—Thank you so so so much! I don't really know what to do.

—Don't thank me, it's a pleasure. Ethan mentioned something about an amusement park that opened recently, if you want I'll give you the address.

—Yes, text me the address, it'll be fun, I'll take him there.

—Okay honey, I'll do it. Y/N, really thank you very much.

You frowned slightly without understanding.

—Why?

—For doing this for Ethan, you really mean a lot to him. And also for always being with Kylian, my children adore you and I couldn't be happier that you are the one with my son.

You smiled slightly feeling the tears in your eyes about to come out, it made you very happy to hear her say that.

—I'm going to cry. It makes me very happy to hear that, all of you really mean a lot to me and each one of you has a very big place in my heart, thanks to you.

—I think I'll cry too –you laughed slightly– Y/N, I have to hang up, Ethan and Kylian are making a mess in the kitchen. Have a good trip, see you in the new year, honey.

After the call with Fayza you kept listening to music until it was time for your flight and you were finally on your way home.

The flight was pretty quick so you didn't have time to sleep, but you did have time to finish planning what you would do for Ethan, it wasn't anything fancy, but you were sure he would love it.

You went by taxi to your shared apartment with Kylian, you didn't want to call him because he was probably asleep since it was half past two in the morning.

But surprisingly he wasn't asleep when you got home. He and Ethan were in the living room playing FIFA.

They both looked at you surprised and you immediately had them both hugging you with no intention of letting you go.

—Amour, I thought you would come tomorrow. Why didn't you tell me? We would have gone for you at the airport.

—Sorry, I just thought you were asleep. Nevermind, I missed you guys so much.

You broke away from the hug to kiss Kylian on the lips and hug Ethan again.

—We missed you too, sis. I really wanted to celebrate with you.

You moved away from Ethan a bit so you could look him in the eye.

—I know and I'm sorry. I also wanted to celebrate with you but you know why I couldn't come, although I promise to make it up to you.

You saw your brother-in-law look at you somewhat confused but interested in knowing more.

—Really? How?

—Would it be okay for you to spend a whole day with me?

Ethan couldn't hide his big smile or his excitement, he really missed those days with you and he was happy to do it again.

—One hundred percent yes, i want the funny days back.

—"Funny days"?

Your boyfriend, who had been watching the entire interaction between the two of you with a smile, had a completely confused frown.

—Let him, he doesn't have to know. –Ethan let out a giggle and he said goodbye to you and your boyfriend to go to sleep in the guest room.

You took your boyfriend by the arm and dragged him into the room while you listened to his complaints because he wanted to continue playing FIFA.

—Amour, please a few more minutes, I promise I'll wash the dishes tomorrow.

—You were going to do it anyway.

Kylian gave up and lay back on the bed with his arms folded like a little boy.

—You would have let Ethan continue playing.

He pouted his lips and you lay down next to him laughing.

—Oh, my baby is mad and trying to make me feel guilty so he won't admit he's upset?

Your boyfriend looked at you and chuckled knowing you had figured him out.

—I just want to know what is the funny day.

On the afternoon of December 31, you and Kylian were driving to your boyfriend's family's house to celebrate the New Year.

You were very excited since you loved visiting them and you felt very comfortable with them.

Also, "the funny day" (as you and Ethan liked to call it), started tomorrow morning and you couldn't wait any longer.

Once you got to your destination, Kylian parked the car, opened the door for you and took your hand, then you both walked to the door and he rang the bell.

Fayza opened the door for you and gave you both a hug, inviting you to come in.

When you entered the house you saw Ethan with his nephews and cousins ​​playing with the toys they had been given for Christmas, as soon as they saw you they ran to hug you.

—Y/N! We miss you so much.

You smiled completely touched by the treatment of the little children and gave each one a kiss on the cheek.

—I miss y-

—Hi guys, I'm here too by the way. –your boyfriend interrupted you with sarcasm in his voice, pretending to be angry.

—Uncle Kylian! –now everyone was hugging your boyfriend and he was more than happy with it.

You knew that he pretended to be annoyed that the children were with you and not with him because he liked the attention he got after that. He loved it.

—Look at his triumphant smile, he loves the attention.

You chuckled slightly and you looked at Ethan, who was standing next to you.

—Ready for tomorrow, little boy?

—Of course, I'm excited too.

You hugged him by the shoulders pulling him a little closer to you.

—It's going to be the best day of your life.

The rest of the day was pretty nice. Playing with your boyfriend's nephews, giving love advice to some of his teenage cousins ​​without your boyfriend and brother-in-law listening. With Ethan hugging you throughout dinner fighting with Kylian since he wanted your attention too. Almost crying with the speech that Kylian's father gave during the toast and watching the fireworks hugging your boyfriend in the yard of the house.

It was a good way to start the year.

You woke up with the sound of the alarm indicating that "the funny day" had started.

Between you and Ethan, there was no telling which of the two was more excited.

On the other side of the city, your brother-in-law was getting out of bed just like you, unable to erase the excited smile on his face, he had really missed the funny days.

Your boyfriend was still sleeping since he asked you not to wake him up since he couldn't handle knowing that you would abandon him and he wanted to take his time to take it on.

Or in other words, he was very tired and wanted to sleep late.

You complied with his request, so trying not to wake him up, you gave him a kiss on the forehead as a goodbye. Then you took your car keys and left the house going to pick up your brother-in-law.

The day's schedule you made was: first go to Starbucks for breakfast since Ethan loved it, take him to buy his gift, have lunch at his favorite restaurant, amusement park and movie night.

You arrived at your in-laws house and saw Ethan waiting outside. When he noticed that you were there he smiled and quickly got in the car.

—Hi, E. How are you? –you smiled at your brother-in-law as he put on his seatbelt.

—Hi, sis. I'm fine and hungry to be honest.

—Let's have breakfast then.

Ethan nodded happily and turned on his phone's bluetooth to listen to music.

He put up the playlist that you two created called "yeaiIwidjs" (you guys couldn't think of any names so you opted for random lyrics), it had everything, from songs from Maroon 5 to Whitney Houston.

You two screamed with happiness when you heard the intro of Levitating by Dua Lipa.

—IF YOU WANNA RUN AWAY WITH ME, I KNOW A GALAXY AND I CAN TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE. –you started to sing/scream.

And of course Ethan did the same.

—I HAD A PREMONITION THAT WE FELL INTO A RHYTHM WHERE THE MUSIC DON'T STOP FOR LIFE.

—GLITTER IN THE SKY, GLITTER IN MY EYES, SHINNING JUST THE WAY I LIKE –now you both were singing/screaming.

You did the same thing with every song you heard until you got to Starbucks.

You guys might have a sore throat for a whole week, but it was fun.

You ordered your coffees with some rolls that Ethan liked and you were talking about the same old things, your job, your relationship with Kylian, how Ethan is doing in football and how he feels about it.

Maybe they were the same conversations as always, but you weren't bored at all, you were really interested in what he had to say, even if it was the same as always and he felt the same with you.

You guys finished breakfast and went back to your car, this time going to the mall.

You guys didn't want to sing/scream this time because a couple of people recognized you and you didn't want to see yourself on the internet yelling the lyrics to All Too Well by Taylor Swift.

Now instead of singing you played to imagine the life story of people walking down the street.

Ethan believed that the man with glasses and a blue suit who passed in front of us while the light was red was a lawyer who was frustrated with his profession because he really wanted to be a policeman and now he is dedicated to defending criminals to make it difficult for them to work.

But in my opinion that man was an accountant, who was happily married with 4 children, who works in what he loves and now went to the flower shop to buy a bouquet of daisies for his wife because today is their anniversary.

—I just don't understand why you think he was frustrated with his profession.

—I saw it in his eyes! Don't you always say that the eyes are the soul or something like that? That man hates his life, I know.

You continued discussing for a few more minutes about the profession of the unknown gentleman and entered the mall.

—Y/N, please tell me we're not here to buy you clothes. –you laughed when you saw his panicked face.

—No, we came to buy you something, whatever you want.

Ethan looked at you excitedly, thinking about all the things he once told his mom he wanted but she said no because he didn't need them.

Quickly, your brother-in-law took your hand and began to drag you around the mall looking for something he liked.

After searching for about 20 minutes he was about to give up, until he found the perfect gift.

Headphones.

Good headphones to listen to good music.

—Oh, do you want those? –you pointed to the headphones and saw Ethan nod– Good choice.

Ethan wanted to pay for it but you obviously told him no as it was a gift. So even though you told him it wasn't necessary, he bought you some headphones too.

So you two left the store with a new pair of headphones.

—Thanks for the headphones, Y/N. And for spending the day with me. –Ethan hugged you by the shoulders as you walked.

—Thanks for the headphones too, and you don't have to thank me for wanting to spend time with you, it's my pleasure. –you winked at him making him laugh.

—Okay, can we go for lunch? I'm starving.

—But it's been just a while since we had breakfast, Ethan.

—But I'm hungry, please let's go to McDonald's, order takeout, and walk around or whatever, but i want some food.

—Okay, let's go, I'm hungry too.

You decided to obey your brother-in-law's requests, so in less than five minutes you were back in your car ready to go order food.

There's not much to tell about lunch, you two were so hungry that you didn't speak to each other until you finished eating, and you only talked about how good the food was.

You decided to walk a bit through the streets of Paris to take some photos and talk about the outfits of the people you saw, you always do that. It's a funny day tradition.

—Y/N, when you and my brother gonna get married?

Ethan's question took you by surprise and you stopped walking, causing him to look at you in confusion.

—Why did you stop?

—Not at all, it's just that your question surprised me.

—Oh, okay –your brother-in-law nodded and you continued walking in silence.

You were sure that you wanted to marry Kylian and start a family together. But he wanted the same? Why would Ethan ask that? Is it too obvious that you want to get married?

—Why did you just ask that?

—Why did I ask you about the marriage? –you nodded– It wasn't for anything special, it's just that you guys have been together for five years and it would be nice to have the same last name.

—Yeah, it would be nice to officially be family. –you laughed and saw Ethan nod.

You kept walking around talking about anything but the marriage, but inevitably it was still in your head.

Then you went back to where your car was parked eating ice cream at Ethan's request (yes, he's hungry all day). He also insisted on going to the amusement park early because he wanted to stay there all afternoon, obviously you listened to him and drove there.

—Do you think they would recognize us? –you heard your brother-in-law ask before entering the place.

—No, I don't think so.

You guys walked into the amusement park, Ethan completely fascinated and you completely scared.

You wanted to ignore the fact that 90% of the rides in those kinds of places scared you because you knew Ethan was excited, so you took a deep breath and faked your best smile.

—We could get up there, look. –he pointed to the roller coaster.

There's no way I'm getting on that thing.

—Alright, let's go there.

Ethan took your hand and dragged you toward the waiting line.

Fortunately for Ethan and unfortunately for you, there were only 4 people waiting. There are always waits of more than an hour, and today, when you're there, it's only 10 minutes.

—Ethan, I have to go to the bathroom.

Liar.

—Oh, it's fine. I'll wait for you so we can ride the roller coaster together.

This can't be.

You smiled slightly and you almost ran to the women's bathroom trying to mentally prepare yourself for what you were about to do.

You stayed there for a few minutes until you decided to go out and face your fear, but you saw Ethan, who was waiting for you outside the bathroom.

—Hey, I thought you would wait for me on the roller coaster.

—Yeah, let's go to another ride or something, when you came here a guy coming down from the roller coaster was throwing up and I was eating all morning and I don't want to repeat history.

You smiled with extreme happiness knowing that you were no longer at risk of fainting in front of hundreds of people.

The rest of the afternoon was spent going from ride to ride. Ethan ate everything in front of him, from cotton candy to hotdogs. You took thousands of photos, but most were with Pooh, the teddy bear that your brother-in-law win in a game.

Pooh Mbappé was a new member of the family and Ethan and you couldn't be more proud of that.

It was already close to seven in the evening and you two were too tired.

So you three (Pooh wanted to be included) went back to your shared house with Kylian, who wasn't there since he told you in the morning that he couldn't deal with loneliness and that he was going to his parents' house.

You and Ethan sat on your couch completely exhausted, Ethan rethinking his decisions of eating so much and you in how you could have won your own teddy bear too if you had a good aim.

—Now comes the best part of the day, E. –he looked at you expectantly– movies night!

Ethan smiled happily and celebrated a bit, he loved watching movies with you.

You went to your room to find a couple of blankets and cushions to be more comfortable and put them on the sofa.

—Okay little boy, what movie?

—SpiderMan: No Way Home –he responded almost immediately. That movie meant a lot to you two, since one of the things you shared was your love for spiderman you went to see the movie at the cinema together, it really was an unforgettable day for both of you.

It was pretty funny remembering how you two went into the movie completely excited and came out wiping your tears.

You put the movie on and Ethan rested his head on your shoulder.

—We are so lucky to have you in our lives. –you look at him with a smile.

—I'm the lucky one to have you.

ethanmbappe

liked by yourusername, k.mbappe and 435.690 others.

ethanmbappe Pooh Mbappé, the best of the funny day. Thank you for this, love you always @/yourusername

view all 4.598 comments

yourusername LOVE YOU ETHAN

k.mbappe give me back my girlfriend kid

ethanmbappe @/k.mbappe never

mbappeandyn: i love that Y/N and Ethan get along so well 🥺

kykyswife: POOH MBAPPE IM DEAD

kylvsyn @/kykyswife SAME GIRL IS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN

You were lying next to your boyfriend lying on his chest talking about whatever came to mind.

—And that's why I think pineapple pizza is delicious. –you heard your boyfriend talking, but you hadn't paid attention to him at all and he noticed it.

—Amour, what's happening? You've been like this since Ethan left here.

You sighed taking courage to speak, it was now or never.

—I want to marry you.

[teaboot]

39+40 for the ask meme? love ur blog💛🌻💛

💛

39. YouTuber you've been obsessed with and why?

So I'm not really into YouTube Fandoms but I was looking for new music a while back and heard White Tee by Corpse on spotify, right? And I loved the sound but I could only find a few songs, and I was like- okay, is this a new band? Is it exclusive? Why can't I find more, right?

So I tried looking them up, but all I was finding were channel results for 'Corpse Husband', which I thought was a fan account or something, since the channel was full of Among Us clips and scary stories-

But THEN I clicked on one of the stories, and I recognized it from some channels I'd listened to back in college when I couldn't sleep! Which was CRAZY- and it turned out it was the same guy, he'd just split off and started making music too.

And after hearing him talk on the stories again, I couldn't tell if that was actually his voice or not but he sounded really cool, so I clicked on some click bait title like "corpse talks about his voice" and watched an interview he did where he talked about a lot of personal junk I'd experienced too

And I kinda felt like

Well if this guy is dealing with all this crap too, and he still seems like such a good person, maybe I'm a good person too?

Like. Maybe some of us just feel like shit. But we aren't? And maybe there's something good I can bring to the table

But yeah no I like his music still, new songs come out sometimes and I'll loop 'em while I'm cleaning or painting or walking home from work, and it's nice.

That's pretty much my only youtube fan/follow experience, tho.

40. Any bad habits?

Oh, lord. Probably a lot.

I bite my fingers too much, can't leave scabs alone, bite my lips- I have a permanent crease in my bottom lip where they got chapped and split too many times when I was a kid. Had a self-harm habit for over a decade but I've been good for the last two years or so.

I don't drink or smoke or anything like that, never had alcohol or pot before, but I fucking hate washing dishes and I will eat dinner directly off the stove to avoid doing more.

Also I fall asleep in the bathtub at least three times a month.

And if I can't fall asleep in bed I'll lay down all over my place until I find a spot that works.

Living room floor, under the kitchen table, on the couch, on the balcony, in the bathtub, under the desk, in the closet, and in the hallway have been good in the past. Under the bed was a favourite until I got stuck with a lower bed frame.

Oh, and I used to drink like 400-1000mg of caffeine a day but I've been off that since February

Thanks for the ask! ♡

[pinkthrone445]

hii, i was wondering if maybe we could get a prequel to “Since words are not enough to explain how much I love you, let me show you”. where maybe it’s another year down the line and mel & r have started their IVF journey on trying to get r pregnant.. and through it not working or working the abbott crew/ family have been there for mel & r the whole journey. maybe when the r finally does get pregnant they host a baby shower for them.. (maybe even throw in some very overprotective mel and a lot of fluff and cuddling, maybe even some hurt)

-Since words are not enough to explain how much I love you, let me show you- Part 2

Part 1

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:Fluff, soft

Warnings:none I think

Summary:Months after celebrating your wedding anniversary, Mel has a baby fever when she sees you holding a child in your arms.

I hope you enjoy it, I was thinking about writing a part with the baby shower here, but I didn't want to make it so long, so if this has good support, maybe I'll do a next part. Thank you for your love

Your children slept on the classroom carpet taking advantage of their nap time, you, taking advantage of the silence, decided to grade some papers listening to soft music with your headphones on. Your phone lit up showing a message notification from your wife

-🔥Jessica Rabbit🔥:"Hi love, how are you?"

-You:"I'm fine, enjoying the silence of the sleeping kids, you?"

-🔥Jessica Rabbit🔥:"Fine too, enjoying the silence of the kid's reading hour. I just wanted to let you know that tonight I have to see one of the parents after classes, their kid is having problems and I need to talk to them about that. I wanted to tell you, so you don't wait for me to go home"

-You:"Don't you want me to stay with you? We can order something to eat while we wait for the parents to arrive and then we can go home together. Would you like that?"

-🔥Jessica Rabbit🔥:"I love it, very good idea, thank you for not leaving me alone, I love you my bunny ❤️"

-You:"I love you my fiery redhead ❤️"

The next few hours went by faster than expected, and before you knew it, you were greeting your students and telling them to have a nice weekend. When they all left, you order food and went to your wife's classroom, who was sitting at her desk while her student, Gabriel, was painting sitting in another chair. You knocked softly on the door to let them know of your arrival, your wife and the little boy smiled at the sight of you

-"Good evening, the food has arrived"-You muttered leaving the food on the desk and kissing your wife's forehead, you carefully handed the little guy a happy meal and gave Mel rotolo filling with spinach and ricotta. The three of you ate together, enjoying how the little one played with the toy that came with his food, while you and Mel talked about how your day had gone. After a while, you felt a soft knock on the door that caught your attention, seeing that it was the parents with a baby in their arms, you lifted the empty food containers leaving them in the trash so that there was room on your wife's desk.

Carefully you went to the back of the room taking more projects from your bag to grade while they talked. Although the parents were trying their best to listen to the redhead, the little baby they had brought was very restless making communication a little difficult.

You cautiously approached them and raised your hand to get your wife's attention without having to interrupt her

-"Yes, my love"-She whispered looking at you and you smiled looking at the parents

-"I was thinking, if it's okay with you, I can take care of the baby for a little while so you can talk to Melissa quietly"-You told the parents with your best smile and they agreed to give it to you for a little while so they could pay more attention to your wife.

While they were talking, you went to the back of the room with the little baby in your arms, who was looking at you intently and babbling showing you his pink toothless gums. You played with him for a few minutes, and then, when you started singing to him quietly so you didn't disturb your wife, the little guy fell asleep curled up on your chest with his thumb in his mouth, you carefully took your coat and covered him to keep him warm. Taking advantage of how calm he was, you sat down on one of the desks and with your free hand continued to grade papers.

What you didn't know is that your wife was watching every move you made and every interaction you had with the little baby.

Melissa was used to seeing you smile, smiling for something she said or did, smiling for something you saw or read, smiling for your students, smiling for some animal, she knew all your ways of smiling, but this one was different, the way you held the baby and smiled when the little one babbled in his sleep was completely different. Your eyes shone differently, your voice was softer, and your hands more delicate, not to mention the way you held it while grading papers, as if you'd been doing this for years, it looked so natural on you that she couldn't help but stare at you surprised and dumbfounded.

When everyone finished talking, you handed the parents their baby again, which was still asleep, and then went to the car with your wife.

All the way home, Mel was thoughtful as she drove, which was weird because the redhead loved to tell you every detail of her day. Her gaze was fixed on the highway and her brow was slightly furrowed, though one of her hands was still on your thigh giving you small caressed without thinking much about it.

-"Mel... Are you okay?" - Your voice seemed to pull her out of her thoughts back to reality

-"Yeah yeah, why?"-She looked at you confused

-"'Because since we left school you haven't uttered a single word" - You whispered

-"I was thinking... You looked so pretty with that baby in your arms... Remember when we talked about having children? Don't you think it would be a good time to start trying?"- She whispered a little frightened by your answer, fearing that you wouldn't want to now

-"I would like, but are you sure you want this?..."-You whispered looking at her in surprise, some time ago when you got married, Mel didn't look very sure she wanted kids, she loved children but wasn't sure she wanted children if her own, that's why her decision about it confused you a little.

-"Yeah, I want a family with you and I want to be able to enjoy it to the fullest, it's not like I'm going to get any younger so..."-She commented while parking at home and you smiled looking at her tenderly

-"Let's do it then, let's have a baby Schemmenti"-You replied confidently and the redhead took advantage of the fact that the car was turned off to kiss you.

That same night, the two began researching treatments and clinics to do it, as well as side effects and some available donors. As soon as you could, you started treatment.

The studies were a bit awkward and tedious, but Mel was by your side throughout. Also when you had to inject the hormones, she always helped you and she always made sure you ate and stayed hydrated.

-"Miss Schemmenti? Can I talk with you for a second?"-Your wife caught your attention from your classroom door, she loved to use her last name on you when she called you at school

-"Of course, kids behave, I'll be back in a second"-You responded and went out with your wife, Mel kissed your cheek and slightly lifted your blouse, she caressed your abdomen with delicacy and love and injected you with the hormone that corresponded at that time of the day, while you made a face of discomfort because of the slight pain and discomfort that the needle generated when it went through your skin. Once injected, Mel removed the syringe and put it in a safe place in her bag until she could get home and dispose of it properly, then kissed your forehead and let you go back to your class, but not before checking that you were feeling okay.

After a couple of hours, you went to the teachers room as it was lunchtime, as soon as you sat down at the table, Mel took out a tupperware of food and put it in front of you with a big smile on her face

-"Thank you love, but I'm not hungry..."-You whispered while drinking water and your wife looked at you offended as if you had said a great rude thing to her

-"Why? It's your favorite, you gotta eat love..."-she looked at you worriedly and you sighed, the hormones were strong on your stomach, gave you cramps, urge to vomit and took away your hunger

-"I appreciate it very much, but I don't feel like eating, I want to vomit and my stomach hurts"-You whispered looking at her, you didn't want to speak loudly because not all the teachers knew you were trying the fertilization treatment, only Barbara knew.

-"But you know you have to eat well, a balanced and constant diet is part of the treatment. It's not going to work if we don't follow all the steps, please eat..." - Melissa insisted and you sighed, you knew she was doing it for a good reason and because she was really worried, but with so many hormones, everything bothered you big time, including her insistence

-"Mel I'm really not hungry, I'll eat later..."-You whispered and she insisted again

-"Please, even if it's just a bite I'll be happy..."-She whispered trying to convince you and you got up from your chair

-"I'm not hungry Melissa, I say I'll eat later" - You muttered under your breath leaving the staff room and went to look at the plants to calm down a bit. Barbara looked at her friend with a worried look on her face and the redhead only sighed seeing the tupperware you had left behind.

After spending some time alone, you calmed down and went to see Mel in her classroom before the kids arrived

-"Hi..."-You whispered from the doorway and the redhead looked up and smiled without saying anything, taking off her glasses and putting them on her head. Mel didn't hold a grudge against you for getting mad at her or not eating, because she knew it was hormones' fault, your mood normally wasn't like that -"I'm sorry about earlier... I really feel like throwing up and the hormones make me feel upset or sensitive all the time..."-You muttered, walking to her desk. Mel took your waist gently and made you sit on her lap on your side and hugged you against her body

-"I know, I'm sorry for insisting so much... I just don't want you to get hungry...You know that I appreciate everything you're putting up with and that I love you so much. I'm not mad at you" -The redhead kissed your forehead and you sighed hiding in her neck

-"My stomach hurts and it's full of bruises..."-You muttered faintly and Mel stroked your back

-"I'm sorry amore, can I help with anything? Do you want some painkillers?"-As she spoke to you, she gently scratched the back of your neck, which she knew calmed you down a lot. At her question, you shook your head

-"I just want to stay like this a little while longer" - You responded by closing your eyes, hormones could make you go from anger to need in just seconds, it was a roller coaster of emotions and even if you didn't like it, it was necessary if you wanted to start a family.

After a few seconds, you began to hear voices in the hallways indicating that the kids were coming, so you carefully got up from your wife's lap and gave her a brief kiss, but before you could leave, Mel smiled at you calling your name

-"Want sweets?"-she asked, and you nodded happily. Mel reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of your favorite candy and handed them to you-"If you feel unwell let me know and don't forget to drink water please, I love you"-Your wife pleaded seeing how you walked to the door, when you turned around you had at least 3 candies inside your mouth, making you look like a squirrel

-"Yes mom! Love you!"-You answered and went to your classroom.

Weeks later, all of your co-workers found out you were doing fertility treatment thanks to a close incident in the teacher's room.

Everyone was eating together at lunchtime, Mel had prepared you some delicious gnocchi, food that you were eating very happily since you were very hungry. Everyone was talking about the game that was going to be played that night and betting on who was going to win while you filled your mouth with big bites of food. From one moment to the next, the food you wanted to swallow no longer went down, a great nausea invaded you, and all the food came back up. Your skin turned very pale and you touched your wife's arm to warn her of how bad you felt, but you didn't even have time to explain it to her, you had to get up from the table to go to the bathroom, but just as you wanted to get out, Gregory was entering the teachers' room blocking the door and you didn't have time to hold it anymore. Your wife quickly grabbed your waist and turned you towards her and put a trash can in front of you just in time when you threw up everything you'd been eating, Mel gently stroked your back while with her other hand she held the bucket in front of you.

All the professors looked at you worried. Once you were done vomiting, Mel took you to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash the bucket. When the two returned to the teacher's room, you were attacked with questions

-"¿What happened? Are you okay? Need a ride home? Have you been to the doctor? Can we help? Once in Peru I learned a home remedy for nausea, do you want it?" - Everyone spoke at the same time, making it difficult to identify who the question was coming from. Mel slowed them down so they wouldn't overwhelm you and helped you sit on the couch, sitting next to you

-"To answer your questions, she's fine, she doesn't want to go home, we don't want home remedies and going to the doctor is the reason why she's like this" - Your wife replied as you rested your head on her shoulder. Jeannie walked over carefully and asked again

-"If you went to the doctor, why is she like this?" - She whispered worriedly, you sighed looking at your wife and she smiled at you, agreeing without a word, that it would be good to tell them

-"We started a fertilization treatment to become mothers, I'm not pregnant yet, it's a long treatment, but the side effects affect me more at some times than others... Hence the mood swings and nausea and vomiting...Sorry for almost throwing up on you Gregory"-You told them in a faint voice and they all looked surprised, no one expected that answer. After a few seconds of processing it, everyone hugged you excitedly and happy for you. From that moment on you understood that not only would you have Mel taking care of you and supporting you, but all your Abbott friends too, and you were very grateful for that.

[manicrouge]

An Ode to Serelia

[𝟷��+, 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸] || Part Two

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

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 01/01/24

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

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

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 23.7k

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

[𝙰/𝙽]: THIS IS A REPOST !! But I worked really hard on this and it sort of flopped so I'm hoping that maybe it might reach some now people (it has been like 7 months since I posted this so it's basically new again).

HAVE FUN!!

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

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Even if we hurt them?'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, you hear voices.

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

'I found one papa!'

Shifting, you turn your head towards the surface.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Serelia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her hand disappears.

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

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

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

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

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

In the light of Luna, you recall her face.

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

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

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

Not even their dastardly golden coins.

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

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

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

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

The current grows displeased.

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Sirens?'

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

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

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

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

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

The footsteps stop.

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

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

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

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

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

'Bloody lunatics.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Fucks sake, Johnny, what—'

'Siren,' he says quietly.

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

Sirens? Is he fucking stupid?

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

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

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

'Still on the beach.'

'The beach?'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Monsters you are! Let me go!'

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

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

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

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

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

Something is watching them, yet no one sees it.

'No!'

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

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

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

Finally, she's unveiled to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'We'll take it from here. '

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You awake with a brittle moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes grow heavy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There's silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that real?

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

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

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

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

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

Your mind is racing trying to piece together a narrative.

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

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

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

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

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

He's harsher than last nights current.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gaz. What an odd name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Won't you, Ghost?

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

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

You look at him briefly, swallowing hard.

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

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

'Where's the mermaid?' you ask.

You watch his eyes scan the area surrounding you.

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

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

You want to scream.

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

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

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

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

'Where were you goin'?' he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Get some sleep,' he says.

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

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

Your eyes stay there as you drift off to sleep.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kyle looks at him with wide eyes.

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

The man in front of him grins brightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hand rests upon your shoulder and you grunt.

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

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

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

He feels you tense in his hands.

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

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

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

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

Your face falters.

You're going to be here a while.

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

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

Surely it's not that difficult.

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

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

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

'Can you help me?' you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be nice to her, hey?

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

'I'll carry you.'

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

'Great... thanks.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Careful,' he utters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Thank you, Ghost,' you say

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

It's difficult to adjust to first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Why?' he eventually asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hold your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'What? What did I say?'

'Nothing, Sim-'

You freeze.

The pair of you stare at each other.

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

'Johnny told you didn't he?'

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

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

'Simon?'

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

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A crooked smile greets your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Death would be easier than this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He exhales deeply.

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

You blame the dress you're wearing too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your blood runs cold.

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

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

I'd like that too.

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

You laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The feeling of nausea hits you again.

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

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

'Can I?'

He looks at you, though says nothing.

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

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

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

'Am I gonna regret this?' you asks.

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

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

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

Not even once.

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perilous speculation at it's finest! Your favourite.

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I've got work, love.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'What's it about?'

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

He nods his head.

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

Your face is bright red.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The keys fall from out of his hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's unlike anything you've ever experienced.

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

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

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

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

Then, you begin to feel him pull away.

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

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

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

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

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

You feel another finger against you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hear the shift of fabric.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm not going to last.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He lets out a moan as he fills you up.

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

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

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

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

'Good girl,' he utters against your skin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'I haven't hurt you have—'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

In the morning you wake with a dull ache between your thighs, looking to the side of your bed.

Simon isn't there and you sit up quickly, eyes scanning around the room, a panicked breath squeezing out of your lung as you search for him.

Has he left for work already?

You feel an odd sense of betrayal well in your breast as you shuffle from under the sheets, stopping in your tracks when you hear the creak of the staircase leading into his room. His head appears first and you quickly fall back onto the bed, eying him.

'I thought you left for work,' you confess as he climbs the final step. He shakes his head, looking out of the window to the early morning sun. It covers his frame in a delicious light and you take a moment to admire him. How his white shirt settles against his chest, the mask on his face right back where it usually it.

It's a shame though; you want to see his blond hair in the light of the sun.

'I'm not that cruel, sweetheart,' he reassures, 'want you to come with me today; I'm sitting in the Station by myself while the other three do whatever, want some company with me,' he says, we'll stop by the library and bakery before we go there, I'll get you that pastry you like,' he offers, fixing the buckle of his belt, 'what do you think?'

Propping your head up with your hand, you look as hm with rosy cheeks and a bright grin on your face. 'Make me a cup of tea when we're in the station too?' you ask.

'If I must,' he says, laughing, moving towards one of the drawers in his bedroom, pulling it open.

Grabbing a dress and panties, walking up to you. Shifting in the bed, you push the sheets back, standing up, taking the panties from his hands.

Stepping into them, you look up to see him holding your dress, the skirt bunched up. 'Hold your arms up,' he instructs, to which you giggle at, but comply, holding your arms up.

Placing the fabric of the dress over your head, you slip your arms inside of the sleeves, as he kneels down in front of you, pushing his mask up slightly so he can press kisses onto your stomach as he lowers the skirt of the dress further and further down.

More laughter spills past you as you watch him with do so. The skirt reaches your ankles and he stands up, grasping your waist. 'Happy I got this dress for you,' he comments.

You quirk an eyebrow.

'I thought you said it was plain.'

'Nothing's plain when you're wearing it, sweetheart,' he responds, pressing a kiss onto your lips. You roll your eyes at his sappiness despite melting into his hold.

'You're an idiot,' you say.

'And you're slow,' he retorts, letting go of your waist, 'finish up getting ready and meet me downstairs, don't take too long; don't wanna be stuck in a queue at the bakery.'

'You're the reason—'

'Don't wanna hear it, princess,' he calls as he walks down the the stairs, leaving you alone in his bedroom, crossing your arms over yourself as you watch him disappear.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He cannot take his eyes off of you as you sit in the station, stray crumbs of the pastry around your mouth as you babble on about one of the books you found in the library.

It never occurred to him until now that it's very much possible to be a love drunk fool, and he feels himself grinning under his mask as you speak with such passion, it's making him lightheaded. He has little understanding of what you're talking about, but that doesn't matter.

He sits and listens to you, only stopping you when he reaches out his hand, brushing away the clumsy flakes of pastry from around your mouth. You stare at him, eyes panning down to your skirt as you blush at the sight of golden flecks on the white fabric.

Brushing your hands over your covered thighs, you brush them away, looking back at him. Opening your mouth, you go to speak, all for your moment to come crashing down as Kyle barges into the Station.

Taking one look at the pair of you, he lets out a comically loud wretch, 'save it for the bedroom, please,' he breathes, closing the door behind him.

'What are you doin' back?' Simon asks, checking your face for any more crumbs, letting a small grunt when he's satisfied there are none, pulling his hand away from you. 'Thought you were going to be out all day.'

'I've been looking for Rhys,' he says, 'he's supposed to be keeping an eye on her and I haven't seen her, when I went to the cabin the door was locked, all the curtains were drawn too,' he explains, rubbing his head.

Your ears perk up with the mention of a cabin, glancing at Simon before back at Gaz.

She's in a cabin somewhere nearby and she's still alive.

Your heart settles with the thought.

'He couldn't have gone far,' Simon says, 'might've slept in or something- if something was wrong, he wouldn't disappear on us.'

'You're right,' Kyle says, closing the door behind him, 'he's a good kid, shouldn't be thinking badly of him in the first place, just difficult not to worry when he's usually there at the crack of dawn, you know?'

'Are people still demanding a trial?' you ask.

'Yeah,' Kyle responds, approaching the fireplace to the right of the bed you're sitting on, pulling the lid off of the kettle. Fortunately, Simon replenished it after making you both a mug of tea. 'We're trying to push it back; she's a nice girl from what I can tell, doesn't speak much though- to me at least,' he explains.

'Why don't you just let her go?'

'Letters from the Lords telling us we can't act until he's back home,' he says, 'unfortunately, we work for him. If it was up to me, she'd be back in the water; I think everything people are saying about her is nothing more than fairytales.'

You smile at his words; he's right, in terms of her, they are all fairytales.

If he's looking for the sirens from fairytales, he's already eyeing her as he talks to you.

'Do you want another cup of tea?' Kyle asks, looking at the pair of you. Simon shakes his head but you nod, though, before you can reach for your mug, it's taken from out of your reach as Simon holds it out for Kyle.

You give him a short look which he returns after handing your cup to to Kyle who busies himself with minding his business.

'You my servant now?' you ask.

'Can be if you want me to be,' he answers.

You roll your eyes, leaning your back against the wall, dusting the remnants of your breakfast off of your hands.

'You're sweet talk is making me sick,' Kyle calls, approaching you, carefully handing you your mug of tea, 'need some lessons in it, Simon,' he adds.

'Fuck off,' barks the man.

'I've got nothing to do so you're not getting rid of me for a while,' he says, 'I'm gonna stay here for a while before heading back up to the cabin, haven't had a moment to relax this morning,' he scoffs, 'could do with a moment of rest.'

Sitting forward, you move your legs off of the bed, allowing Kyle to take a seat beside you, sipping from your mug, 'there's always something to be doing,' he begins to complain, 'never a fuckin' quiet moment in this—'

The door to the station bursts open, slamming against the wall opposite.

'She's dead!'

The cup in your hand drops as you jolt from the sudden noise, the hot liquid merely missing your thighs as you shift out of the way, hearing the tea cup shattering as it meet with the stone floor.

You curse under your breath, looking at the mess you have made as you go to drop to the ground to clean it up, all for Kyle to shake it head while Simon stands up to address the man at the door.

'It's fine love,' reassures the man sweetly, 'you'll end up cuttin' your fingers, I'll clean it up,' he says, looking down at the shattered tea cup on the ground.

Frankly, you appreciate his kindness as you raise to your feet, looking around Simon's bulky frame to the man who scared you.

He's shaking as he speaks looking at Simon, his eyes blown wide, reflective of the surface of the moon as he tugs at his fingers while attempting to express the horrors of which he has witnessed.

'I left for the night, an' when I returned she was dead,' he says, 'bloody and beaten, whoever it was took all her scales, left them around the room like it's some sort of fuckin' confetti.'

Scales.

You're sure you hear Kyle yell, but you're unsure what he actually says.

There's anger in the young man's eyes, genuine emotion as he details every single gruesome detail of the scene.

Serelia.

The siren.

'W- Where?' you manage to get out, not caring if Simon is about to say something in response. 'Where is she?' you roughly demand.

The young man standing in front of you looks at you with wide eyes as you move in front of Simon.

Your lover doesn't say anything.

'Tell me!' you demand, grabbing his shirt.

'T- The cabin just beyond the Lords house,' he stutters.

Without much thought, you're rushing out of the station without any hesitation, rushing through the streets as your heart rages in your chest.

Your mind is racing with his confession, shoving past and barging shoulders with everyone as you push through the busy town square, staggering up the steps towards the direction of the Lords house.

You're aware of the man behind you; Simon never really did let you out of his sights, after all.

Everything seems so much smaller in your eyes as you stumble further and further up, tears flowing freely down your cheeks.

Perhaps it's some form of sick joke- she's okay, she's just playing dead; she's a smart girl, even having tricked you a few times.

She's okay- she's got to be okay.

You're in a fit of hysterics as you pull the door open to the small, reserved cabin.

There are footsteps behind you, a distant call for your name, only, when you pull the door open, you seek the sister you had lost that night on the shore. Still bleeding as she was when she had been taken despite her pleads for freedom, only, she isn't moving.

She lays on the wooden ground of the room, her hand open in your direction, as stray tear slipping down her face as her open, bruised eyes stare into nothingness.

You stand at the door, your bottom lip trembling as you scream out, 'SERELIA.'

Rushing up to her side, you collapse onto your knees, trembling hands hovering over her swollen body, blood seeping into your white frock as you simply sit and stare in horror.

Placing your hand against her cheek, you flinch at the icy feeling of her skin, trailing the tips of your fingers over her soft flesh. Stray scales sit on the ground from around you, plucked like petals from a daisy.

Her body is destroyed, pretty face so swollen, you hardly know who you're looking at.

Nausea hits you, though you fight against the urge to vomit up your breakfast, lunging forward, slipping your hand beneath the bleeding body of your sister, resting your forehead against her shoulder as you pull her close, her body falling over your lap as you sob, brushing your hair through her dirty ginger locks as your body shakes against her still one.

This all feels like a bad dream that you wish to wake from, only, you cannot.

'I- I'm sorry, my urchin,' you manage to get out between spouts of hyperventilation and nausea, your nails digging into her flesh as your arm settles in her blood.

'My beauty, they have destroyed you,' you mumble under your breath, unmoved by the stench in room as your chest swells.

Pulling your head off of the corpses shoulder, you press your hand firmly against her rotten cheek, observing the countless amount of cuts.

You feel the room spinning as you observe the true brutality of mankind, how they are so careless towards the rest of natures creations and you feel like a fool.

A fury burns within you, your tongue ceasing as two hands are placed on your shoulders, attempting to move you away from Serelia. Looking up over your shoulders, you spy the bewildered eyes of your lover.

'Let go of me, Simon,' you demand, turning your head back to the woman on the ground.

His hands stay firmly on your shoulders.

You wish for him to relent, but that's not in his nature. No, he wishes to keep you from all danger, and with the mess you have made of yourself and the crime scene, somewhere deep inside, you understand that you cannot have the very thing you desire.

You're pulled to your feet, crying as you kick and scream in his arms, the bloody skirt of your dress sticking to your legs as you fight against him.

'Let me go!' you cry, turning in his hold, bringing your hands to his chest, weakly hitting him as though it is he who caused the bloody slaughter. 'Let me go,' you hiccup as you're pulled out the door, away from the sight that is sure to haunt you for the rest of your life.

Pushing your hands against his chest, you shove him with all you might, though he does not move.

Placing you against a tree, he gently guides you to the ground as your legs give, kneeling on the ground before you as you chase after your breath, your legs laid out in front of you, your hands resting flat against your thighs.

Looking up towards the sky, you spy the moon staring down upon you despite the morning sky, proceeding to cry as you recall the lights on the shore the night Serelia was taken.

Your throat burns with the desire to scream and scream until you have torn the very vocal cords nature gifted to you, seeing no use in them as you come to realise that you will never call her name and get a response ever again.

'You were never on our side,' you sniffle harshly, hot tears flowing free as Simon simply stares at you. 'I see their torches in the light of your stars. You make us the villains, fool us into doing your dirty work, and then leave us stranded when you want no more to do with us,' you seethe, turning your head to the side as you continue to sob.

Simon's hand presses against your flushed face, pushing your head up from off of your shoulder, 'love, you need to calm down,' he utters gently. 'You're gonna make yourself sick if you keep on like this,' he warns.

He means well, you love him enough to acknowledge that in the midst of your fury.

Yet, your punishment leaves you weak and weary, missing the water you grew up in, missing life prior to that night.

'I already am sick,' you retort in a broken tone, 'infected with the parasite that makes me you, that separates me from her,' you cry, 'no longer a siren, only human.'

You don't care what happens, and, if you do, your emotions keep you from logic.

'W- What?' the man beside you chokes out.

You don't miss the way his hold on your face tightens, yet, you do not flinch, permitting his harsh hold as you look him in the eyes, swallowing harshly.

'I'm not a human,' you whisper, 'I don't know what I am anymore... I never had a sister, I was never in a wreckage, I was looking for her, my Urchin,' you admit, turning your head in the direction of the cabin. 'And now she's gone.'

Your sobs fill the void of silence, only, nothing fills the void of warmth against your face as he pulls his hand away from your face. Looking at him, your bottom lip wobbles.

Every lesson your mother has ever taught you is urging you to hate him, telling you that it is his fault that there she's lying there alone in a puddle of her own blood, unrecognisable.

However, no matter how much you wish to lunge forward and claw his eyes from out of his head, you find heart and mind conflict easily.

'Please say something,' you beg, caving to the gaping hole in your chest, longing for the return of his touch for, what is left after him? An outcast? Nowhere to return, even the ocean doesn't want you, and your bleak reality begins to settle in as his eyes do not change. 'Please, please talk to me, I- I've already lost her—'

He's unsure how to tread, you see the weariness in his eyes. 'What part of you is real?' he asks, 'or are you just a liar?'

'My love for you is real,' you blurt out, 'I cherish you, all of you for caring for me and for taking care of me when I needed it the most,' you continue, 'but I couldn't tell you, Si'- I- I've been trying to think of a way to tell you the truth and I was gonna do it today- I swear to you.'

'Why?' he lowly asks, 'are you afraid of me?'

'Are you afraid of me?' you question, looking him in the eyes as a stray tear falls past your eye.

He pauses.

'Your people murdered one of my own, Si',' you choke out, a flurry of emotion blowing over you as your face and skin prickle with an insatiable heat. 'We act accordingly, you treat us violently, we react with violence, but she...' your words trail, 'she did nothing to anyone, Simon. Had a voice as sweet as honey, charming, loving to the creatures of the sea, and look at what happened.'

'What's stoppin' you from hurting me?'

His voice and tone are raw as you look at him.

Truthfully, in the midst of your misery, you're unable to see the reason which keeps your fury at bay, though, when you look into his eyes, you understand for a moment long enough to form a response.

'You tried to keep her safe,' you whisper, 'keeping her from everyone, keeping her out of the way. They got to her, you didn't.'

And I can't let myself get to you for something you haven't done.

He exhales, looking towards you with bleary eyes.

Always, the desire to push him away is going to nestle within after the events of today, but nothing stops you from lunging into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck with as you sob.

His large hand presses against your head as he pulls you close, his hold on you almost crushing as you cry into the nape of his neck. If he is hushing you, you can't hear him.

You're in his arms and he's got you.

His hold feels the same as the one you have became accustomed with during your time on land, nothing has changed.

Feeling him tug at his mask, you settle when you feel his lips press against your forehead, and with a small voice he utters, 'I love you,' he says, 'human, siren, sea monster, sea urchin, I don't fuckin' care,' he states firmly, placing another kiss on your forehead.

'I love you too,' you tightly say, feeling the urge to smile at his words, but you don't, simply remaining in his arms.

'I'm sorry, love,' he utters. 'She didn't deserve any of this, neither did you.'

With your face buried into his neck, you nod your head.

'I know.'

You lay in his arms for what seems like an eternity, holding his bloody shirt as he rubs your back.

There's nothing that can be said, you know that.

Both of you do.

A man of few words can hardly be expected to become a flowing fountain of knowledge in the span of an hour.

Anyone else would curse him for not trying to make you feel better, maybe even say he doesn't care about you. But his rough touch turns gentle with you. His boisterous manner is reserved to calmness.

Oddly enough, it's in the most violent man that you find your faith in humanity is kept from drifting off of the cliff, toppling over into the ocean.

Eventually, you feel him shift beside you and you're moved as though your a doll in a child's arms. Looking down at you, he brushes his hand against your face, wiping away the tears that have flooded your face. You place your hands over his much larger ones, looking him in the eyes as you sniffle.

'We can't leave her there like this,' he utters, 'they'll wanna burn her body, 'not gonna let that happen.'

You mouth grows dry.

'We'll bury her up here, there's a clearing near the cliff, overlooking the water so she's not too far from home.'

No words leave your mouth so you simply nod your head in agreement as the pair of you raise from the floor.

Her helps you up and keeps you steady, not daring to let go of you, seemingly fearful that, if you fell, you would shatter and leave him forever.

He does all the work, leaving you to sit and watch as he carefully raps the girl in a sheet, lifting her into his arms with ease.

You standby and watch idly, holding a shovel in one hand and a lantern in the other, unable to look the dismal sight in the eye.

As, you step outside of the cabin, keeping your head bowed as you follow after him, heading towards the burial sight he mentioned.

It's hidden, private, and you stand near the edge of the cliff, looking down into the darkened abyss of water below you as you hear the occasional grunt from behind you as Simon busies himself with digging the gave.

At this moment you're resentful, wishing for some form of blow to the head to send you over the cliff, rejoicing in the short fall before you're able to escape from the consequences of your failure.

Only, you cannot will yourself to go over the cliff on your own accord, knowing if you did, Simon would most likely blame himself- if not follow right after you.

Living in the idea is enough to keep the action at bay, the resounding guilt and regret you imagine you would feel after taking the leap filling you with dread.

So, you turn yourself around and sit next to the woman wrapped in white while Simon makes a grave for her to finally rest her weary head.

It's difficult to say goodbye.

It was difficult when you said goodbye to your mother, a bitter pill to swallow when old age claimed the crazed woman on the seas, though, the guilt stabbing into your heart like a dagger proves to make this send off much worse.

Never did you dream of doing something so horrible, yet, here you are, unable to escape reality.

It's the dead of night by the time the grave is ready, the lantern in your hand flickers as Simon holds the body of Serelia in his arms, lowering her into the grave he constructed using a shovel.

The sheet she's wrapped in is stain red, marked with her blood, and while your chest grows heavy at the sight you find solace hiding in the shadows away from the moonlight.

Kneeling to the ground beside him, you tear the edge of your skirt, placing it onto her body with a shaky sigh.

He looks at you.

'When someone passes, we pull one of own scales and lay it with them to rest so they always have a piece of us with them,' you explain, 'I can't do that for her, but I'm not going to leave her with nothing,' you state.

Grabbing the edge of his shirt, you watch with a sunken smile as he rips a piece of his shirt of, laying it beside the piece of your dress you laid upon her.

'It's an apology,' mumbles the man, 'couldn't be there to keep her from harms way in this life, but she'll have me in the next. She'll have the both of us, yeah?'

'Forever and always.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You return to his home covered in blood.

He helps you wash, rubbing a sponge around your back as you lean forward, chin resting against your knees with void eyes. You say nothing to him, only listening to his gentle requests.

While doing so, he feels a heat growing his stomach. It had been set alight from the very second he heard you screaming and crying, and the longer he focuses, the more he finds his blood boils. Someone in the village knew where she was and they killed her- perhaps even multiple people.

A poor young girl was murdered, and in the process they murdered your spirit.

And now he is scared as he looks at you.

There's nothing to tie you to the land anymore, he understands that as he wraps you in a towel, carrying you up the steps to his bedroom in a woeful silence.

There's nothing to tie you to him and he wishes to paint the town red for the crime committed against you, swearing to himself that he will find the perpetrator.

The next time he's cleaning blood from under his fingernails will be the time he has avenged you.

Until then, however, he's committed to being beside you until you no longer want him there as he looks onto you after helping you get ready for bed, lying on his back beside you.

Nothing is left in you, your soul devoid of anything as your mind wanders to her body wrapped in that white sheet, and as you look to the dress discarded on the floor, you find you're not too far off her fate.

Laying your head upon his head, you listen to his heartbeat to make sure he's alive, fearful that he will leave you before you get the opportunity to leave him first.

'I love you,' you croak.

'I love you too, sweetheart.'

After a while he his breathing calms, soothing and melting as a wave on the beach did.

Your mind has been made up since he placed his shirt beside yours, and as you watched him cover her with dirt, you stood with crossed arms and contemplated for a while. The crashing of the waves over the cliff edge called for you as you stood there.

You cannot stay here.

For the good of yourself and the good of him.

Too much is at risk now, and too much has been lost.

Too many thoughts fill your head, bad thoughts. Bringing him to the water all to sing a song to pull him into it.

You'll watch as he fights for air, trying to break the surface of the water once more, but you will not care, simply watching him fight and fight until all life leaves him and his soul has left you.

Foolish mortal men.

You hear your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you look at his sleeping eyes, then to the blood beneath your nails.

Sinking into the watery depths of a sirens den.

Crawling from beside him, you offer him one final look at you lean over the sleeping man, pressing a kiss onto his temple, watching as his hand curls around the pillow on your side of the bed.

Misery strikes you as you look at the empty spot, something within you urging to you to crawl back into bed beside him, only, you're reminded of the celebrations litter through the town, the festering buzzing of the flies in the cabin, and the swollen face of Serelia.

How is one to move past such when they lack the very emotion of remorse?

And how are you supposed to keep your emotions at bay when you feel an unquenchable urge to bring the village into the water?

Both are impossible to solve, and somethings are better off left broken, for, if you act on your anger, you betray the man you love with all your being.

But, if you act on love, you betray the women in the sea who are most likely worried sick with your disappearance. So, you take hold of the first dress he bought you, pulling it over your head, eyes teary as you look at him sleeping.

You're making the right choice in leaving, you say that to yourself when you place another chaste kiss against his cheek, allowing the thought to follow you as you push the door of his house open, stepping onto the pavement.

It follows you down the twists and turns of the street, leading you from place you have both loved and lost back to the ocean where you have only ever know strength and family.

The land is cruel, harsher than the sea.

Even during a violent storm you find you prefer the sea for the land houses people capable of despicable things, maintaining the ability of hurting you, not only on the outside, but also on the inside. You long for normality, for a sense of belonging again, and while you know you will always have a place in his bed and arms, you have a duty to fill elsewhere, an anger to keep at bay, people to keep safe.

You have to go, and you hope he understands.

A man of few words yet the only man who could ever hold your heart and not shatter it, and as you're walking on the sand, stumbling towards the water, you allow yourself to cry an ugly and loud cry as you fist at the fabric of the dress he gifted you, pulling the skirt to your mouth, pressing your lips against the fabric. Your legs carry as you remain with the skirt bundled in your arms, inhaling the scent of the place you have grown to know as home.

But it's never going to be home again.

The water greets your feet as you allow your arms to drop to your side, walking into the sea.

The waves crash down, soaking the bottom of the pink fabric and you continue to sob as you edge further and further into the water, cupping your face in your hands as you stiffly wade through the waves.

Wiping under your eyes with your fingers, you raise your head in the direction of the sky, seeing the moon sitting above the sea. You keep your eyes trained on the red moon, unmoved by the winking stars in the night sky as you turn your back to her.

Observing the land one last time, you fall backwards into the water, whispering an ode to Serelia under your breath as the ocean swallows you whole.

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[yearninqheart]

fine line

We’ll be a fine line, we’ll be alright.

pairing: regulus black x reader

word count: 2.6k

tags: gender-neutral!reader, non-magic/muggle au, exes to lovers—technically, some angst, some fluff, reader is mentioned to be sick, sort of implies player!reg, trust fund kid!reg, potter!reader (the occupation, not the surname)

warnings: Walburga Black gets her own warning (briefly mentioned), mentions of eating, not proofread sorry. lmk if i missed anything please!

notes: let’s not talk about how i dipped after posting two sandman fics and a (now cancelled) series master for c!w*lbur i never even posted chapter one for. but anyways, heyy how’ve y’all been?? <3 if you follow my main this isn’t even the fic i’ve been talking about, technically. i have a longer reg fic in the works that i hope to finish one day atp lmao. let me know what you think of this fic in the meantime though, i’m apologize for my rusty writing this is more so a writing practice for me but i did have this prompt in my notes for a while so, here she is!

"It took you long enough." Regulus said with a huff, hand still midair about to knock before you had swung the door open, which leads you to the situation you were now thrust into: your ex-boyfriend standing in your doorway with bags of groceries and takeout in hand.

"Regulus I'm really-" He barely lets you speak before easily letting himself in, setting the bags onto your countertops as he began preparing whatever it was he had bought. "Not in the mood right now..."

Seeing as he's already throwing ingredients into one of your pots, there would be no use in even trying to get him to leave so you shut the door behind you and decided to take a seat at the island, watching as he worked. However, the moment you even took a step forward he was setting down the knife and urging you to go to bed.

"You need to rest, I don't care how much sleep you say you got, you need more. Go. I'll leave some tea by your nightstand." Was all he said before guiding you back to your room and closing the door, barely letting you face him before the door closed, leaving you with too many thoughts when all your body wanted was to curl back into bed. And given that Regulus was seemingly going to be making dinner, there was really no reason to not listen to him. 

When you woke up again, who knows how many hours later, you found a cup of tea by your nightstand as promised, steam coming off the top of it as you took a sip. It briefly brought a small smile to your face before you remembered who exactly it was that put it there.

You felt much better as you got out of bed, taking a moment to stretch before walking towards the hallway where Regulus' voice was slightly muffled due to the soft music he had left on in the background. It was a song you had once loved and played whenever Regulus came over for dinner after work. It's been a while since he's last entered your home as your boyfriend, but he seems content to live in ignorance bliss whenever he comes over-oftentimes unannounced and/or invited —and the song just so happens to appear in the queue.

Your current relationship with Regulus was complicated. The two of you had broken up nearly five months ago, putting an end to a three year relationship that was going seemingly well. One would've thought such a sudden break would cause a rift between you two (it was what you were hoping for anyways) but it appears that Regulus doesn't seem to care. You're certain he's doing it out of spite, but another part of you hopes that there's more to his actions than simply 'spite". It wasn't easy choosing to end such a perfect relationship after all, much less your choice.

As you entered the kitchen, you were met with Regulus' back as he hunched over your countertop, focused on cutting the tomatoes just right even though he knows you hate them (he says it helps with the flavour and you agree, but that doesn't stop you from hating them). You watch as he finishes prepping the food, moving effortlessly around your kitchen to find the exact items he needs. Everything is still where they were when you kicked him out five months ago, and he knows you well enough that that'll never change.

"The salt's on the table."

Except for the salt and pepper, since you were too lazy to put it back after using them last night.

"Good Morning sunshine." He joked, enjoying the way your eyes rolled at the stupid nickname as you stepped towards him.

"Whatcha making?"

"Stew. It just needs to simmer a bit more so that the vegetables cook. Do you want to freshen up while I finish up here?"

You give him a nod, your body stiffening when the normalcy between you makes you forget that you're no longer dating and you catch yourself almost leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder. Too embarrassed to even look up at him, you quickly ran off to your bathroom before he could say another word.

By the time you were back, Regulus was just done setting up the dinner table. A part of you hated how you left his spot vacant even after all that's happened. You were in a new city starting anew, you didn’t need a second sea at your dinner table. However, the other part seemed to enjoy how naturally Regulus filled that spot, both the seat across from yours at the table and your home in general. Despite your numerous attempts of trying to push him out of your life he has simply refused and made it apparent he was staying in your life one way or another. Whether that be as your lover or a friend, he was there to stay.

"Dinners ready!" He hummed, catching your attention as he nodded towards your seat.

He was going to turn in the direction opposite of the table but upon noticing your silence, understood and added, "I'll join you in a sec, just going to put these dishes in the sink."

That seemed to be all you needed to hear as you took your seat at the small dinner table, waiting patiently as Regulus allowed the dishes to soak before wiping down the countertops then joining you at the table.

The meal, aside from simple requests of can you pass me some napkins and where's the salt, was silent. Music that you are now certain is playing from the playlist you made after he had moved into the apartment was still playing in the background and brought forth a wave of nostalgia you didn't think you'd get. The normalcy of it all was frustrating however, and you didn't mean to slam your spoon onto the table but he didn't even appear to be fazed by your sudden outburst. It was about time this happened. 

"Why do you keep doing this?" You asked, watching as he simply continues to finish his stew, refusing to look you in the eyes for once.

"Doing what?"

"This!" You gestured around you exaggeratedly. "Visiting me still, cooking for me, keeping me company. We broke up already, Regulus."

"I know." Came his response.

"So why do you keep showing up?" There was no malice to your question. No venom coated words or sharp tongue, only pure curiosity seeing as you've raked your mind for months wondering why he wasn't leaving you alone despite all your efforts.

For a moment, Regulus remained quiet. He didn't look up at you nor did he say a word, slowly finishing his stew and wiping his mouth before setting the plate aside to finally look at you.

"Why are you so persistent we distance ourselves?"

You almost scoffed at his question. For one, you two were now no longer dating, so why continue to see each-other as often as you did whilst dating. Secondly, neither of you will be able to properly heal and move on if the very person you've chosen to leave is still in your everyday life. And thirdly… his mother.

Walburga Black is the wife of a wealthy man in London. Wealthy enough that she was able to fund your entire move to Scotland where she had hoped would be far enough for Regulus to leave you alone and also powerful enough that she was able to even achieve that wish in the first place. The relocating part at least it seems. She had given you a generous job offering for a company she had connections to. It paid better than your job back home and allowed you some extra cash so that you wouldn’t be living paycheck to paycheck. All she asked of you was to ‘leave Regulus alone’. 

Obviously you had refused at first, but with a status like hers and the connections she had, it would not be worth going against her. A week after her initial offer, you had agreed to her deal with a sullen mood as she transferred an additional cheque to your account for ‘being so understanding’. You bit your tongue and simply thanked her before being escorted out of her office and to the car waiting outside. Regulus was currently on a trip to New York, so by the time he landed your cell would be deactivated and your apartment would be bare, leaving behind no traces of you or your relationship for him to hold. 

“This will be better for him.” Walburga had told you. “If there’s no traces of you ever being there, it’ll be easier for him to move on. We don’t need him clinging onto the past now do we?” 

You had agreed, because what else were you to do? 

Even you had assumed Regulus would stay in London. He had everything there, why throw it all away? But it appears that both you and his mother underestimated his dedication–although it is what continues to confuse you every time you see his face. 

"Why did you come all the way here?" Your voice was so soft he almost had to strain to hear you. "You had everything back home, why did you abandon it all just to come here? Don’t you miss your old lifestyle?"

The way he was looking at you made you feel like the answer was blatantly obvious. His brows were furrowed as he tilted his head sideways, appearing to be carefully choosing his next words before sitting up on his chair, letting his elbows rest on the table as the next song started to play from the speaker.

"I had everything back in London because I had you. What good is anything back there if you're suddenly on a train heading north?"

There it was, the confirmation you had both been dreading and waiting to hear since you stepped foot into your new apartment.

"But your mother-"

"Bought us a nice apartment to live in, I know. Such a sweet parting gift don't you think?"

You could almost laugh, had it not been for how hard your heart was pounding at the confirmation you had been waiting to hear for so long. Ironic how despite practicing how you would react when the time came you were now rendered frozen as you tried to come to terms with the fact that it finally happened.

"Regulus," You started but he cut you off by calling your name and for the first time in five months, he looked just like your Reg. He looked at you as if it hasn't been the most excruciating five months for you both, with such a tender and sweet expression you could almost melt.

You had expected the worst. Had practiced your defences for when the fight would occur but it never had the chance to bloom. Instead of getting upset, Regulus simply placed your hands in his, a thumb smoothing over the tops of your knuckles before speaking.

"Perhaps I did have everything," He began. "But I don't know why you subconsciously view me as the kind to even care if I inherit the company or not. They could give it all to the intern for all I care and I'd let them. They can take my name off their will, take back my cards and properties too and it wouldn’t even matter to me."

He saw you open your mouth to speak and cut you off before a sound could even pass your lips.

"I love you." He reminded you for the first time in five months. "I love you, even if it means I am no longer an heir to a multimillion company and my family hates me. Truly I don't care for them if the answer has always been you."

It was almost deafening how hard your heart was pounding, threatening to burst out of your chest any second now if you didn't calm down but how could you possibly do that? How could you even think to calm down when he’s just confessed his love for you at the expense of everything he’s ever known and had. 

Regulus did not say anything further, instead letting you take it all in as he hummed softly along to music while his thumb continued to run over the ridges of your knuckles.

After a moment, he brought your hands towards his face and pressed a kiss to it before clasping his other hand around your own. "I thought I was pretty forward to everyone about my affections towards you, was I not clear enough?" He mumbled quietly.

He was. Upon his first time meeting you, there was a visible shift in his attitude which all of his friends had quickly noticed. He'd decline offers of going out in favour for a quiet dinner at his penthouse with you, cancel on clubbing because you wanted to explore the waterfront when you couldn't sleep at night, he even took up pottery classes since you worked at a studio nearby his apartment and it would mean Regulus could be in your presence for longer, even if he would be bailing on a flight to Paris that his friends had invited him to.

(He thought they would get the hint that he no longer cared for partying but instead began inviting you to come along as well after he introduced you to them.

Regulus had quickly shut them down, though that didn't stop Mary from giving you her number so that you could make plans later.)

All to say that not once since you met him, did Regulus make it unknown or unclear that he was utterly in-love with you. So why did you doubt him when his mother sent you away?

His mother was the simple answer. But as he encouraged you to elaborate, Walburga turned out to only play a fraction of that fear. It was the thought of ripping him from the lifestyle he knew and was accustomed to, from the title and norms he's been raised to adhere to. Sure Walburga was also terrifying, but more so was the thought that Regulus would be throwing away all he ever knew just because of a little crush. 

Business meetings since he was a child, attending galas dressed to the nines with a flock of eligible girls hanging off his arm, fancy dinner parties in different cities every night–if not the most exclusive in the city for when he decides to stay home–was nowhere close to your everyday life. In all honesty, your paths were probably never meant to cross but somehow managed to intertwine at just the right moment, for the love of your life to be here with you now. Now you understand however, that despite the differences in your upbringing and previous lifestyle, this is what he now wants–a simple, easy lifestyle with his lover by his side. 

"I'm sorry." You apologized with a sigh, finally feeling the defeat of the act you've put up since Walburga got into your head about "tarnishing his image".

"Why are you apologizing, love?" A hand came up to hold your cheek, while the other drew comforting circles on top of your own.

"For listening to your mother?" You offered with a short laugh although it didn't quite reach your eyes. It never did whenever his mother was the topic. He couldn't blame you, but that was now in the past.

"Forget her, we'll be alright now."

taglist, lmk if you want to be added/removed! @retvenkos @with-love-anu @screennamealreadyused @princekooks @jackys-stuff-blog

[vidalinav]

She wants the (Ph)D

Look I debated giving you a taste of another fanfic I'm writing... because it is a little too close to home. In that it is literally my life for the last two years. But I'm taking creative liberty and mixing it up, and it gives me slight second hand embarrassment. It's a fic like Stu(died) but in graduate school and Cassian wears glasses sometimes in this fic. So it's not as innocent. It's quite... well you'll see. Don't judge me too harshly because I swear to god I'm fucking stupid.

~

Her next door neighbor is a meathead or at least that's what Nesta tells Emerie when she rants about the party he'd thrown last night that kept her up until 3 am.

He's a meathead who disobeys the unspoken social rules that they've set all those months ago.

"You mean the rules you made up when you moved in, which no one knows about but you?"

Nesta waves the information away, with a flick of her wrist. "He's obeyed them all this time, so I don't know why he suddenly wants to party. Why couldn't he stay a friendless loser who never invites anyone over?"

Emerie snorts, pulling out her laptop. She's about to start working and Nesta knows she should be doing that too and finishing up the PowerPoint of her proposal, but how can she when she's tired from staying up all night instead of sleeping like a normal person? 3 am and she listens to boys yelling and their tasteless music and their loud laughs as if there's anything to be laughing about at 3 am.

"A rager has gotta be better than hearing him go at it through the walls."

"No! That was better," Nesta decides, grimacing at the countless memories that accost her mind of the girlfriend who just wouldn't leave. "At least that only lasted for five minutes."

Emerie laughs at that, already knowing the stories that have plagued their work sessions. It may not be his fault that the walls are thin, but it is his fault for having sex the minute she gets home. They may share a wall where they sleep at night, but they do not share the same taste for propriety and proper neighborly ethics.

"You know, you know too much about this guy when you don't even know his name."

Nesta huffs, "I think his name is Cassian. I heard his roomate yell it out in the yard when he came back last week."

"Cassian," Emerie says, humming like she's considering the quality of his name. "It's not the name I would have thought of for a meathead who only lasts five minutes."

"Did I also tell you he's a gymbro? That rat! With a perfect fuckboy face."

Emerie lifts the screen of her laptop and stops, "Perfect?"

Nesta merely shrugs because she's not blind.

She's also not stupid.

"He's perfectly irritating and I wish him total demise. I think his girlfriend broke up with him—which is about time since they argued twice a week—and on a regular day that would suffice, but now he's inconvenienced me and I want him dead."

"Mhmm," Emerie nods, smirking where she sits across, "and he's got such a perfect fuckboy face."

Nesta scowls, but doesn't move to get her laptop or change the topic of conversation. Emerie only gives Nesta an assessing look. "You don't even go to sleep. You'd have still been up at 5 editing your thesis."

"And I couldn't because I was too distracted by the sound of their partying. Who parties on a fucking tuesday?"

~

The difference between this and Stu(died) is that Nesta actually has a crush on him and goes through great lengths (ignoring him) to get his attention.

[mossyivy]

I think I genuinely found the perfect song for Leon and his wife as like "their song".

(Yes ik it's the song from Twilight but it's fitting!!!)

Now, when I think about them getting married I don't think they did a big wedding. They got married on a whim because Leon had vacation time coming up. They got married by a justice of the peace at a courthouse in front of everyone they cared about and rented a party room at a nice restaurant they really love just to have a good meal and be with everyone who matters.

They didn't have a cake, no flower toss, no first dance. But you did get to dress up, everyone did. Just shared their happiness with everyone. You had a honeymoon for sure though. 2 blissful weeks in Italy together, the vacation they'd planned on taking together. Just to have a romantic get away.

You promised each other that you'd do something special for your first anniversary but you got pregnant and Violet was barely 3 months old on your wedding anniversary that the thought slipped both your minds.

But one afternoon Leon's heading home from a particularly grueling case. Everything that could have gone wrong almost did. And of course he's sitting in traffic when all he wants is to go home an see his wife and daughter. The only thing sounds are the engine and occasional honks from idiot drivers. So he turns on the radio to fill the silence. He catches the ending of some other song. The radio dj coming on and talking for a bit, he reaches for the dial when piano keys fill the car. He just goes back to waiting, sitting back in his seat as he does so.

And my God does he get emotional... He doesn't know if it's the stress he's under or if it's that he can't stop thinking about how relevant everything feels.

He knows his life is hard, It's been hard since that night in Raccoon City and everything that's happened to him. All the people he's seen suffer and the awful things he's seen. But once he met you he finally had something good. Something that gave him hope.

His life changed so much in the past 5 years of being together. You loved him. You married him. You gave him the family he's always wanted and his life is barely over a quarter of the way through. He gets to come home to you and the beautiful baby girl he loves so much.

How could he not finally be thankful for being alive?

Because he gets to live not to just be a weapon anymore. He's got something to look forward to.

Your anniversary rolls around. It's almost midnight and you're prepping your lunch for the next day at work. As Leon walks into the kitchen. Doing his usual schtick of wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. Giving you the usual kisses with a tight squeeze so you can't escape his love as you squeal for mercy. He eventually stops his torturing affection and looks at the stove clock as you zip you're lunchbox closed.

Soon you're lifted from the floor being carried by the waist out of the kitchen.

"Leon! I'm not done yet!"

"It's our anniversary now so I get to do what I please."

"That's not how this works!"

He sets you on the floor, standing as you playfully glare at him. He hustles over to the stereo, plugging his phone in and turning it up, not loud enough to wake the baby.

"What're you doing?" You question, hearing the piano fill the living room as he hustles around the couch.

"What we should of done last year. Our first dance. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Leon, we've danced since we got married."

"Yes, but we never picked a song! So just, dance with me and listen. Please? Pleeeease?" He bounces on place till you sigh and wrap your arms around him.

You just stare into each other's eyes while you slow dance. Swaying gently to the music as you listen. Both of you getting emotional by the end of the song. Tears streaming down both your faces. Still smiling as you hug him tight.

"Being with you was one of the best choices I've ever made. I love you so much."

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 48 (He Had Him At Hello, Bromance Edition)

Leaving her friends in Old New Henford after dark, Heather, Ash, and Conrad returned to her childhood home with her parents.

They found River and Cassandra still in their work clothes, the two having spent most of the evening trying to get their infant son to sleep. "Doctor Scott says its a phase, it'll pass, but when he doesn't sleep well, we don't sleep well," lamented River. "These days we're thrilled if he sleeps for more than two hours at a time."

Conrad already felt at ease around her siblings, and Heather left them chatting upstairs while her parents showed her the new plants in their always impressive garden. When Michael woke up fussy, she soothed him back to sleep to give his tired parents a break.

Upstairs, River studied Conrad with keen interest. His sister's taste in men had always been a little...off, and he wanted to be sure this one deserved her. "Driving between San Myshuno and Brindleton Bay must not be easy."

"We make it work," said Conrad. "We're waiting for me to get a transfer, but all that driving can be pretty tiring."

"Sometimes I dance just to keep myself awake," said Cass, grooving a little to the music. "Since I left the art studio to help my mother-in-law with her floral business, it's been a bit easier working from home. I never realized the artistry involved in floral arranging, but I can be just as creative with a bouquet of flowers as I can with a palette of acrylics!"

Conrad couldn't relate, but he empathized with their lack of sleep. "I don't know much about raising kids, but Ash likes a story I tell him that my mom used to read to me when I was a kid. The Giving Tree."

"I love that story," Cassandra mused. "I think I saw a copy at the bookstore in the square."

River nodded. "I'll try anything. I'll pick up a copy tomorrow." Despite his fatigue, River's wall crumbled as he got to know Conrad. "What made you think our sister was worth risking your career?"

The question was sincere. Conrad had asked himself the same thing a thousand times. "At first I thought it was because her son needed her more than the Landgraabs needed a win, but then they dropped the charges and I couldn't stop thinking about her. I booked a vet appointment four hours out of the way just to run into her again."

"Why didn't you ask her out, then?"

"River, stop interrogating him," Hazel pushed, but Conrad smiled.

"I wanted to, but I knew she'd been through a lot and I wanted her to be sure she was ready. I sort of knew it would be it for me if I knew she was interested."

"It's a good thing Holly intervened," said Hazel, smiling. "You might still be waiting for her, otherwise."

River grinned. "He definitely would be."

Hazel left to meet Nicola and some friends at the Gnome's Arms, and River and Cassandra finally changed and sat down to dinner. Because they could know no peace, Ash talked their ear off about dinosaurs. "Conerd say t-rex no swim, we safe," he babbled. "T-rex roar!"

"You know there were less scary dinosaurs," River said. "Smaller ones who ate plants. Also big ones. Like brontosaurus."

Ash listened with intense curiosity. "Bront-so-us?"

"Yeah, they were even bigger than your dad's apartment."

Cassandra stifled a laugh. "River, hush."

They were interrupted when Michael woke again from his nap, wailing from the bedroom. With her plate still full of food, Cass left to tend to her son as Heather walked into the kitchen. "We should probably head out. It'll still be an hour on the Simmerloop at this time of night, and we should get Ash to bed before midnight."

Cassandra brought Michael outside for their goodbyes, but the fussy infant didn't last long in the cool autumn air.

River, meanwhile, had found a new best friend in Conrad. "When I found out my sister was dating a cop I wasn't sure what to think, but now I'm pretty confident you've never played bad cop in your life."

Conrad shrugged. "I mean, I don't see the point. It doesn't get me to the truth any faster. But I admire what you and your father do. Building green infrastructure for your community is just as important as what I do."

River laughed. "Please, don't flatter me. You deal with hardened criminals like my sister."

Daisy turned to Heather as they watched River bond with Conrad. "Riv grew up with a house full of sisters, but I think he always secretly wanted a brother."

When Conrad left to get the car, River turned to Heather. "I recognize the way he looks at you, and he's not going anywhere unless you tell him to. I know you like to think you're better off single, protecting your independence, but he's the guy who's perfect for you. You and Conrad finding each other is one in a million, like the day I met Cassandra. He's your Cassandra."

(Can confirm, Jane Simsten's Soulmates mod kicked in for these two way back on the night they ran into each other with Holly and Kris in San Myshuno, but Heather's unflirty and she's been burned in the past, so it's had to be this way. I'm sorry!)

River's beautiful wife gazed at him with love while he spoke. They were so sweet together, and their love used to make Heather feel like she was missing out. Now she had Conrad, who was as close to perfect as anyone she'd ever met, and she couldn't shake her insecurities.

"I know raising Ash with his father isn't easy and you're afraid to get hurt again," River said. "But that is a guy who's waiting for you to say 'I love you' so he can say it, too."

Neal frowned. "Huck, you don't know that. Don't test your sister's emotions-"

"I do know that, and I'd die on Old Mill Hill defending that take!"

"He makes me so happy," Heather admitted. "But what if he moves in and I find out he's a criminal mastermind masquerading as a detective?"

"Then you're even more perfect for each other than I thought."

Heather couldn’t deny her feelings for Conrad, as afraid as she was to put them into words and make them real.

Despite her fears, she was grateful for her family's approval, and she embraced her brother warmly when Conrad brought his car around. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: This got it's own post because Conrad and River literally said hello to each other and were basically best friends (they became official best friends later, when it mattered for Conrad's Friend of the World aspiration. tbh by then I thought they already were but either something glitched or broke with the Lovestruck patches or I never bothered and forgot). Their instant bromance felt so right - River looks up to his older sister and wants the best for her even though he can't help but tease her, and he and Conrad are both responsible guys focused on bettering their communities. It's a perfect match and I loved this development.

[tonkatsubowl]

draconian love.

when you saw dan heng again for the first time—after he had transformed—you were too busy with the current events to even admire the beauty that was laid out before you. phantylia and the stellaron hunters were your top priority during this mission, and after dealing with both of them and finally entering a relaxing stage where you're able to rest after your mission... you had nearly forgotten about his transformation.

returning to the express, you were finally gifted with a rewarding shower and a tray of food that himeko prepared for you all once you've all returned, akin to a welcoming and loving mother greeting her children back home from a rough day at work. adorned in your comfiest of clothes, you sat in your room and spent some lone time for yourself. march was already knocked out, as you can hear her silly little snoring softly echoing from the door to her room (yes, even you can hear it on your end). you began to wonder how dan heng was doing, and if you should swing by to check up on him...

ever since coming to the express, you've developed strong feelings for the man. both himeko and welt could definitely see that you've caught feelings for him, too. march and pom-pom remain oblivious as ever, it seems.

you lay there, pondering alone to your own thoughts as you gazed upon the ceiling. your room was dark, enough for anyone to assume you were asleep if they cracked that door open. it was quiet, besides the soft music that was playing in the orchestrion down the hall by pom-pom. it was relaxing, peaceful—it didn't help that you had a beautiful view of the cosmos outside your window. you could just sleep right now, but you couldn't... not with the thoughts of dan heng on your mind.

as though the aeons were listening to you, your phone buzzes in your hand, sounding off your familiar notification tune,

￤dan heng: hey. are you awake?

you blink, staring at the notification bubble before responding immediately.

￤y/n: yeah. are you okay? is everything well with you?

￤dan heng: yeah, i'm okay, don't worry about me. i just haven't been able to sleep and figured if you were still awake.

￤y/n: ah, okay. well uh, i think my adrenaline is still active after phantylia lmfao i think ill knock out soon 💧

￤dan heng: i see. don't let me disrupt your attempt to rest. i will leave you alone, y/n.

￤y/n: wait

￤dan heng: ?

you paused for a moment... your fingers stiff. you respond anyway, hesitant.

￤y/n: do you want to sit out there in the lobby for a bit? with me? if not that's okay

￤dan heng: yes. i'll meet you there.

￤y/n: okay!

that's when you immediately scrambled up to your feet, and rushed out that door, but quietly as to not wake march up. once you've opened that door, you noticed that dan heng was outside your room already making his way there.

...but he wasn't himself. he was still in his vidyadhara form. his long hair, his bright authoritative eyes. the stars that sparked behind him was an additive to the beauty that was standing before you. you were mesmerized, watching as he practically glowed for you. he was... ethereal. beautiful. you wanted to touch his face, examine his beauty further. you were in love, and this was a reminder.

"ah, y/n," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "sorry. did i spook you?"

you blinked, snapping yourself out of your trance.

"...no. i just... i forgot you were in your form. does it take a while to revert back?" you ask, slowly closing the door behind you, careful not to wake your photogenic companion up.

"ah," dan heng looked away, "it... it doesn't. but i want to embrace this side of me for a moment, as much as i try to shy away from it—hide it, even."

"you want to accept it more? as it's part of you?" you tilt your head, beginning to walk with him.

dan heng blinked, nodding slowly. you read his thoughts well. "yeah. precisely, i suppose."

that's when the two of you began to walk together. the quiet, soft music of the orchestriont that was playing in the lobby was peaceful and welcoming, enough for any visitor of the express to fall asleep. as expected, the lobby was completely empty, welcoming any ghost to wander amongst the halls. pom-pom was nowhere near in sight, possibly asleep in his own room. himeko and welt were nowhere to be seen, and it was only you and dan heng together.

he sat down, and you joined his side immediately. you both were right next to each other comfortably, and at first... there was a long silence that ensued the atmosphere.

"..."

the two of you were quiet, but it wasn't awkward in the slightest. his presence was welcoming, and you felt so incredibly safe. for some reason, you were starting to feel tired, and he can see it. he can feel your head comfortably leaning over to rest on his shoulder, your eyes half-lidded.

"is this... okay?" you whisper.

"...yes." he responded, his own head resting against your own.

the two of you sat together briefly, enjoying each other's company. you were warm. safe and sound in his presence and he felt the same with you. he felt like he could be himself around you. he could be who he is.

when you pulled away, his eyes slowly cast over to you. you took this moment to basically admire the beauty that was bestowed before you. how the moon danced at the window behind you both was witnessing this beautiful moment. how the moon witnessed your hand slowly reach up to dan heng's cheek, caressing the side of his smooth face.

"...is this okay?" you whisper.

dan heng didn't respond. he couldn't take it anymore. he leaned in without a warning, stealing a kiss from you—which you reciprocated immediately. your arms slowly throw themselves around his torso, bringing him even further... but you both end up pulling away.

"...sorry. i should've asked you if that was oka—"

"again, dan heng."

he blinked, but he nodded, finally realizing that you've accepted his feelings and that you've returned them—with another kiss, as well.

the both of you shared affection in each other's company; hugging and kissing, but not long before you both nearly proceeded to a round that required the bedroom.

you breathed heavily, brushing away the ebony locks of his hair away from his face as he towered above you as you laid on the crimson cushions of the couch. "wait," you breathe, "we... not here."

dan heng lowered his gaze, eyeing at the subtle bruises on your neck. your heated visage, your dazed and tired eyes. you wanted him. and he wanted you. but you were absolutely right, you both couldn't do it here. not with the possibility of someone walking in.

"...would you be okay sleeping with me tonight, y/n?" dan heng whispered, caressing the pad of his thumb against the corner of your lip.

you nod in silence. taking your response, he slowly scooped you into his arms, escorting you into his room. after that night, both you and dan heng slept in, concerning himeko and welt... but it wasn't long before they realized what had actually occurred. respecting both your privacy and his, they would inform the others that you both were resting still after carrying out the mission. march and pom-pom were oblivious to the situation, luckily. march would spend her entire free day in her own room playing video games, as both you and dan heng remained in his room, asleep—or perhaps enjoying each other's company. like reading books. cuddling. talking to each other all day and night.

and that would never change between the both of you.