#dragons and sirens

[yeoldenews]

A selection of dragons, wyrms and other mythological creatures from various 17th and 18th century calligraphy copybooks which were drawn with single lines to practice (and show off) penmanship strokes.

[ladiemars]

come in the water please please please i swearrrr i won’t drown you

[witchthewriter]

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑶 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝐻𝑒 𝑆𝘩𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: this includes ... all types not just one. So it's a bit of a 'preference.' (That's what we called it in the olden days ...)

Also this is 18+, not explicitely explicit but ... we acting like grown ups.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑽𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・He worships you in slow, deliberate ways. Your presence needs to be savoured, never rushed.

・Your relationship is intense. Full of tension and pure devotion.

・He is a creature of elegance and obsession. To him, love is eternal, a bond that transcends time, life, and even death. He does not just love you; he worships you.

・He follows you in the shadows, watching, ensuring no harm comes to you. He is always there, whether you see him or not.

・Jealousy runs deep. If another so much as looks at you too long, he will appear beside you, fingers brushing your throat in a quiet warning.

・He is a silent guardian, a ghost of devotion, ever watchful, ever patient.

・Oh god he just LOVES gifting you luxurious items...antique jewellery or the most expensive jewellery in the current trends, books older than empires or books he noticed you liked from BookTok, treats for your pets, snacks for you...

・His love is eternal, and that means he has to keep up with the times... he brandishes you with flowers, chocolate, hot coffee, the latest phone etc. To show that no matter how much time will pass, you and he are forever.

・Funnily enough, he will never let you be cold (unless it's Summer and you need his icy skin...that's the best feeling ever!) His touches, his whispers of raunchy thoughts...it's enough to have you looking away with warmth seeping into every bone in your body.

・Constantly tells you that, "You are mine."

・His nicknames for you are: 'beloved,' 'dove,' 'my heart,' 'darling,' 'blood of my blood.'

𝑾𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Once you two decided to be a couple, you are his. Full stop. And everyone needs to know it.

・Your werewolf boyfriend is the embodiment of fierce devotion, raw passion, and unwavering protection. He does not love with hesitation. He is a ride or die.

・With werewolves, are pack creatures. You are his pack. His family. More than that, you are his mate. His soulmate. Therefore, everyone needs to know that.

・Whenever you're together, he keeps an arm around your waist in public, scent-marks you with his jacket, his hoody...his very presence.

・A big way he shows his love is through Acts of Service and Physical Touch...Your boyfriend loves to fix things for you, he gets the groceries, brushes your hair, massages your shoulders and back. He knows exactly where you left your phone, keys and glasses.

・He also carries you when you're tired...you don't even have to ask.

・Intimidating to others but to you, he's the softest, most gentle male you have ever met.

・He's always afraid of hurting you, so he makes sure to be extra careful.

・His mating instincts are also very, very strong. He leaves love bites, not enough to hurt - but enough to claim.

・He looks at you like you hung the moon. His entire world is centered around you.

・Calls you 'little one,' 'pup,' 'lamb,' 'sweetheart,' 'my mate,' 'sunshine,' 'precious.'

𝑶𝒓𝒄 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・“You are my heart. You are my home.” He speaks with no hesitation, because his love is truth.

・He does not hesitate. He does not doubt. You are his, and he will carve the world apart to prove it.

・Orcs do not love easily, but when they do, it is for life. You are not just his lover—you are his mate, his purpose, his home.

・When you are apart, he grows restless, his hands twitching, his jaw clenching. He does not handle distance well. You are meant to be by his side.

・If you are injured, he will not let you lift a single finger until you are fully healed. "You do not need to ask, little one. If you want it, I will make it so."

・The orc culture loves physical touch. Hugging, wrapping an arm around someone, kisses, forehead touches, leaning on each other, etc. It's what your boyfriend grew up with.

・He constantly pulls you close, runs his fingers along your skin, holds you against his chest

・He often carries you without warning, simply because he can.

・If you fall asleep against him, he will not move for hours, no matter how uncomfortable he is.

・If someone touches you with anything more than innocent intent, they do not walk away unscathed.

"No harm will come to you. Not while I breathe."

・Orcs do not believe in lies or empty flattery.If he tells you that you are beautiful, strong, worthy, he means it with his entire being.

・He does not buy gifts. He makes them. Your orc is an incredible crafter.

・He will forge a weapon; just for you. Engraved with protection runes. Jewellery; carved from bone, iron or stone. It's worn against his own skin before he gifts it to you. Therefore, it will carry his scent, his protection.

・Orcs believe in providing for their mate. If he is eating, you eat first. If there is little food, you get the best of it.

・He cooks for you, hunts for you, makes sure you are always fed and strong.

・His pet names for you are: 'little flame,' 'my treasure,' 'wife/husband' (even if you aren't married), 'warrior,' 'feisty one,' 'biter.'

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏-𝑯𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・You are his greatest treasure. Dragons do not share. If he has chosen you, it means you are his, body and soul.

・He collects things that remind him of you—a lock of your hair tied in silk, a ring you once touched, a ribbon that still carries your scent.

・If you ever give him a gift, no matter how small, he hoards it like it is worth more than any jewel.

・His claws are sharp, his strength immense, yet he touches you with the utmost care.

・You are small in his arms, delicate compared to him, and it drives him mad with the need to protect you.

・Flying is sacred to him. To allow you on his back, to take you into the sky, means he trusts you completely.

・In his dragon form, you clutch the horns on his back as he soars across the sky. You feel the wind rushing past, the stress of the world just melts away.

・Tears spring to your eyes; either from the wind or your feelings...your love turns his head to look at you. His golden eyes gleaming. "You were meant to fly with me," he mind-speaks, voice filled with a deep, ancient knowing.

・When dragons love, they love eternally. He does not think in mortal years. He thinks in centuries.

・"You will stay with me," he murmurs, "won't you?"

・His wings tighten around you, golden eyes filled with something deep and yet completely full of vulnerability.

・He watches you with reverence, with something like awe, as if he cannot believe you are real.

・He calls you: 'my jewel,' 'star of my sky,' 'little love,' 'little bird,' 'my fierce love,' 'dragonrider.'

𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・He does not love like mortals do. He loves like a demon—raw, primal, unholy. He loves like he would tear the heavens apart for you.

・And he just might.

・He is always watching you.

・He knows your scent, your heartbeat, your dreams. He has studied every inch of you, memorized every detail.

・If someone else touches you? The air crackles with heat. His jaw tightens, his claws flex. He doesn’t tolerate competition.

・He has never raised his voice around you, always talks softly (he calls it seductively).

・The epitome of he hates everyone except you.

・The world fears him. His enemies kneel before him. But with you? He listens. He softens. He worships.

・His claws are sharp, but he never lets them harm you.

・His magic is dark, but he uses it to protect you, to keep you safe, to make sure no harm ever befalls you.

・Your demon LOVES to make you feel flustered. Flushed cheeks, red ears, stomach full of butterflies. He always makes you feel desired.

・"I would burn the heavens for you."

・He adores physical affection.

・Constantly has his hands on you. Holding your wrist, wrapping his tail around your waist, tracing invisible sigils into your skin.

・He's incredibly territorial over you.

・If you cry? He is not sure how to handle it. His hands twitch, unsure. His rage and power mean nothing if he cannot fix this.

・Demons are not supposed to have weaknesses. But you? You are his only one.

・He has existed for centuries, eons. He has known lust, hunger, desire. But love? Love is new. Love is terrifying.

・Love is you. And he is never going to let you go.

・He is the most fearsome creature until you show up and he turns into a pile of mush.

・Your lover calls you: 'little temptation,' 'darling,' 'pet,' 'hellfire,' 'my salvation,' 'bright one,' 'my favourite plaything.'

𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Taught to love one being with complete and utter devotion...

・But your Angel would fall from 'God's Grace,' just to be by your side.

・Luckily, no one has found out about your relationship. He is your guardian angel...just one that you can see, hear, feel and touch whenever you desire.

・The way your Angel loves you is holy. It is divine. Sacred even.

・Believing you to somehow be a deity yourself, he only touches you with softness, with his fingers carefully ghosting over your skin. Aching for you.

・Angel has massive, white feathered wings that protrude from his back. Up close, you can see traces of gold among the feathers, making him glow ethereally.

・His large wings shield you from the world. As if he can create a sanctuary meant only for you.

・As a magical being, his kisses feel like pure sunlight...and joy...and the first day of spring.

・Yet if you are harmed, harrassed or bullied in one way or another, his golden eyes burn with fury.

・Violence is not who you know your boyfriend to be, but for you, he would destroy the world.

・His nicknames for you are: 'my light,' 'heavenly,' 'my everything,' 'pet,' (as in 'Petal'), 'seraph,' 'little star,' 'little goddess/god.'

𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Your siren boyfriend is not just a creature of the deep; he is a thing of temptation, mystery, and obsession.

・He does not love lightly. He does not love softly. He loves like the tide, and you are the shore...forever changed by his touch.

・When he sings just for you, it’s not to lure, not to enchant. It’s to mark you as his, to let the ocean itself know who belongs to him.

・"You are mine," he whispers, voice soft but unshakable. "I have sung your name into the tides. The sea knows you now."

・His obsession is not cruel, not suffocating. It is devotion, unrelenting and infinite.

・When he holds you, it feels like being claimed, as if he is anchoring himself to you.

・His hands are cool from the sea, but his kisses are warm, deep, slow.

・Sirens are creatures of sound, of melody, of stories carried on the waves. ・His song is not just for you—it is about you. The ocean hums it, the seagulls echo it, the wind carries it across the water. ・And if you listen closely, you can hear it when the tide rolls in. The melody of his love, whispered in the waves. "Even if you cannot hear it," he says, "the sea will always know your name."

・If you ever enter the sea, it feels different now. As if it knows you, as if it welcomes you. ・You can swim longer, breathe easier, because his magic has seeped into your skin, tying you to him in a way that cannot be undone.

・If you accept him completely, if you give yourself to him fully, you will never fear the ocean again.

・Your siren calls you: 'songbird,' 'little minnow,' 'my melody,' 'precious pearl,' 'you are my tide, i will follow you anywhere.'

𝑬𝒍𝒇 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・He is a being that has endured centuries, seen empires rise and fall, even watched the stars shift in the sky.

・And yet, in all those years...he has never loved like this.

・In love, he is not rushed, not impulsive, not reckless.

・His love is patient, cautious, all-encompassing.

・It is a slow-burning fire, a heat that never dies.

・When an elf chooses a mate; it is eternal. A love that is woven into the heavens; into the very essence of the worlds.

・Elves are creatures of grace, of quiet strength, of whispered words that carry the weight of centuries.

・Your lovers touch is featherlight. As if he's afraid you will vanish beaneath his fingertips...as if you aren't real.

・He loves brushing his long fingers against your cheek, his knuckles grazing your lips, memorizing every single detail.

"I have seen a thousand sunrises," he whispers, "but none have been as beautiful as you."

・He loves gifting you with beautiful earthly things; flowers woven into a delicate crown, a bracelet of intertwined leaves, wooden carvings of all your favourite animals.

・When he is away, he writes you letters in Elvish, sealed with wax, filled with words so poetic they could break your heart. If you do not understand his language, he teaches you, whispering each word against your skin.

・His love is not loud, not demanding.

・He shows it in the gentlest of ways. Of doing things for you; cleaning your clothes, doing your makeup, helping you with your shoes.

・It's also in the way he turns his head to listen whenever you speak, the way he always moves to your side without thought. If you are tired, he carries you effortlessly, as if your weight is nothing to him.

・The trees know your name. The wind whispers it through the leaves...When you sit with him in a quiet grove, he closes his eyes and listens. The earth sings when you are near.

"The forest remembers you," he says, "as I do."

・His voice is always calm, near melodic.

・He does not simply say “I love you.” Instead he says:

"You are the first breath of spring after a thousand winters."

"My heart beats in time with yours."

"If the stars fell from the sky, I would carve new constellations for you with my own hands."

・And when he says your name? It sounds like a prayer.

・In Elven culture, hair is sacred. To touch someone’s hair is a sign of trust. But to braid it? It is an act, nay, a sign of deep devotion.

・When he braids your hair, he is not just arranging strands. He is weaving his love into each movement. He is binding you to him in the silent language of his people.

・If you braid his hair, he will close his eyes, exhaling slowly, surrendering himself to you completely.

"This is a bond," he whispers. "One that cannot be broken."

・Your nicknames are: 'starlight,' 'little fawn,' 'elenya" (Elvish for ‘My Star’), 'beloved one,' 'birdie,' 'I would wait centuries for you,' 'sweetheart.'

[yandere-fetish]

So I've been thinking of the Omegaverse lately and I can't quit thinking about adopting the entire fantasy trope around it.

Like, for example, just imagine...

An Alpha Siren who happens to discover its Omega Reader while there's a cruise ship above, which leads Alpha Siren to follow the ship to port while attempting to gather Omega Reader's attention, stalking you from a distance, leaving little love trinkets everywhere you go, before finally kidnapping you and dragging you need into the dark abyss.

Or reverse it— An Alpha Reader hunting down their Omega Siren, searching the ends of the Earth, diving in vast oceans, countlessly losing your Omega Siren after a single glance, only for your Omega Siren to come to you, half laying on the deck, wagging their tail desperately, wantonly begging for their Alpha Reader to impregnate them.

An Alpha Dragon that captures treasures in their vast abode while waiting on their perfect omega, then happens to discover Omega Reader gathering herbs. We can even turn you into an Omega Witch. Captured by the dragon, fighting for your life, even when your heat kicks in...

Or maybe an Omega Dragon that sneaks up on Alpha Witch Reader in the forest one day and refuses to leave your side. Whines like a puppy, guards like a dog, purrs like a cat, but is as horny as a rabbit when it comes to its heat.

How about an Alpha Naga hunting in the forest, searching for prey for their tribe, then comes across Omega Reader collecting samples, safeguarding the forest, or whatever else you may be doing for planet earth, and takes the chance to observe a new species before falling quickly. Alpha Naga ends up causing your premature heat, kidnapping you from your tent, and hiding you deep in a cave. Your heat gets the better of you but that doesn't mean you won't put up a fight.

Or an Omega Naga that you find as an adventurer that fights you tooth and claw. After winning, maybe it just slithers away or, because of Alpha Reader's pheromones, they go into heat. Maybe you help Omega Naga through its heat intimately, or maybe they are the ones who claw at your shirt, coiling their tail around your legs, their forked tongue kissing your neck and face, even the slippery cocks that end up slipping between its orifice.

Take an Omega Selkie that adores the shore and while swimming to the surface, catches wind of your Alpha pheromones, which leads to the Omega Selkie searching everywhere for you, discovering your swimming form scuba diving or just swimming leisurely, they end up playing with you in their seal form before revealing their true self when you have to leave. It's pretty hard to turn down a tempting and innocent creature that's leaking for you to sate their desires.

Or an Alpha Selkie who dominated the waves, blending in with humans while protecting the seas, they also dare to sift through the human omegas before coming across you, which leads to your rejection and their perseverance until you end up being emotionally and physically attached. Now you’ve got no where to run and no where to hide with Alpha Selkie breathing down your neck and following you at every turn.

Maybe try an Alpha Harpy bleeding from a wound in a fight and comes across you, an Omega Bird Hybrid, before passing out, to which you take them in and clean them up, feeding them, nursing them back to health. Alpha Harpy refuses to leave at the end, declaring themselves your mate, grabbing many courting gifts to give you, nonstop attempts to mate you, aiding you in building your nest and even collecting your meals.

Or maybe an Omega Harpy that is in constant need of affection but refuses themselves from having any contact with it due to their abused childhood, thus leading Alpha Reader, who has Omega Harpy as a pet, to care for their needs, to learn more about habits and behaviors, before attempting to try anything, which leads to multiple disputes that ends bloody for Alpha Reader before you honestly takes care of Omega Harpy through their heat, platonically, thus ending up with them falling for you.. but more slowly and with caution.

We could try an Alpha Cereberus Pack that has lived for thousands of years, most of them mateless and horny, until one night where they meet their perfect little Omega, you, a Cat Hybrid. They're sent to guard the demon that's killing your neighbors, all the while watching you, individually, invisibly, before the demon comes after your Omega Cat Hybrid Reader— which sends Alpha Cereberus Pack feral and ends up taking the demon's life and disappearing with you...

Or an Omega Cereberus Pack that have been abandoned by their last owners or their parents (bc that's the way of life what cruel abusive demons do) and are starved, on the brink of death, when innocent Alpha Cat Hybrid Reader finds them in the wet rain before taking them safely home. You take good care of the Omega Cereberus Pack, even as they snap and growl at your every move, but eventually, they grow fond of you, growing like wild weeds, and, out of nowhere, they've become adults, begging in heat one day.

Maybe enjoy an Omega Arachne that is super shy and scared of others that are not of their kind due to the screams of terror when coming in contact with someone else. Omega Arachne who's lived alone for a few hundred years, succumbing to loneliness.. then they caught a whiff of Alpha Reader's pheromones and suddenly went into a force heat, which causes your rut to come into play, but not until you've stumbled upon their web (in a cave, in a forest, or maybe on a mountain).

Or an Alpha Arachne that has set his eyes on you, an Omega Arachne (or maybe an Omega Lamia) since you were born, watching, waiting, for the perfect time to strike and capture you in their web. Alpha Arachne designs a web for the upcoming mating season and delivers many prey of all kinds for the honeymoon, and even if they don't end up catching your attention, they take matters into their own legs and kidnap you for their own. After a clutch or two, they know you'll be fine.

[vcreatures]

Harpies are avian scavengers found across partly forested areas, deserts, grasslands and shorelines. These large buzzards are a vital part of the ecosystem acting as the natural cleaning crew of their territory, cleaning away carcasses and as such keeping disease low. Their ironclad stomachs are capable of eating rotting flesh and even bone.

Males and females are dimorphic, with males possessing a bony crest, longer plumes and colored facial skin. While both sexes possess the impressive mammary like wattle, males are able to inflate theirs as part of their courting display. Which originally caused early explorers to believe these avian beasts possessed human breasts.

Harpies are monogamous and will rear up to 3 chicks in a single breeding season. Often in large necks high in the canopy or along cliff sides. 

If you're interested in seeing more of my work you'll want to head over to my instagram. I post more regularly there.

[digitalbvnny]

where a monster would take you on a date ִֶָ

જ⁀➴ some small headcanons about where each monster would take you and how the date would go. animal hybrid not included.

── . werewolf boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ werewolf!bf wants to show you his sensitive side on a date, so he want to take you to do something sweet. werewolf!bf is so nervous when the two of you pull up to the bookstore. it was all his idea to pick out books for each other and end the night cooking a meal together. his collar tightened around his furry nape when you walked in together. deeply afraid he'd pick out a book that you wouldn't enjoy or would have to force yourself through for his sake.

꩜ you'd kiss him on the cheek and wish him luck, unbeknownst to him you're equally nervous. the two of you had a short talk on the way here about genres, and neigher of you had much to go off of.

꩜ when you both get back in the car you'd laugh about how nervous you both were when the other one presents their choice of book. both things you equally excited about reading.

꩜ and then you arrive to your shared apartment, you share some wine before making some easy chicken pasta you both really enjoy.

── . vampire boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ your vampire!bf would want to rake you somewhere nice, while also allowing it to be a brand new experience for you. he wants the night to be rememberable, so he takes you to the most beautiful restaurant. ordering a wine you'd never even heard of, and looking adoringly at you.

꩜ vamp!bf is renting out the entire restaurant, he doesn't want anything to mess up or interrupt your perfect night.

꩜ he'd wait until the moon in the perfect place and take you out the terrace to hold your hand, “you looks so delectable under the moonlight mi amore.”

꩜ vampire!bf ends the night with flying, having you on his back as you soar through the skies. wanting you to see how beautiful the nightlife can be from up in the clouds.

── . ghost boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ ghost!bf can't take you out as he's confined to the house he died in, but that doesn't mean he won't put in one hundred percent for your dates. he's swooshing around the house in silence, as you're sleeping, trying to get the perfect day together.

꩜ your day starts with a beautiful breakfast in bed, with the ingredients you all just had laying around. he floats in with ease, a smile on his translucent face which brings one to your face.

꩜ the next part is movies and doing a puzzle or different table top game together. something small but you can do it together in the comfort of your home.

꩜ the night would end in tidying up together and dancing in the kitchen. just enjoying your time together.

── . orc boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ orc!bf loves to be able to show off, he wants to do something that's gonna fun but lets him protect you. orc!bf is going to take you to a haunted house, it's so dark and you can't see anything but he can see everything.

꩜ everytime you get spooked and grasp only his huge muscular arms, he's grinning but feigning innocence and comforting you, “it’s okay, I'll protect you.”

꩜ when orc!bf accidentally gets spooked and punches one of the cast members and you almost pee your pants from laughing. the big scary orc got scared.

꩜ all would led to him backing you against a wall, until he's towering over you. you can feel the body heat coming off of him in waves, “you scared yet?”

── . fae prince boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ fae prince!bf want your forst date to benone exploring the fae world. he'd give you a special piece of jewelry that would keep you from being stuck in this realm. as much as he wants you to eventually rule neside him, he wants you to do that of your violation. so he takes you to see the flora and fauna of his birth place and kingdom.

꩜ fae prince!bf wants to show you all of the delicacies of his kingdom, having the royal chef make you a little bit of everything. all of which he sets you in his lap and feeds you every bite, eager to see your reactions.

꩜ fae prince!bf who has the family tailor make you a beauiful dress made of garments and fabrics you'd never even heard of. the dress if a beauiful gown for your dinner at the end of the night, it fit like a second skin and made you feel oh so beautiful.

꩜ fae prince!bf shows you all of the castle, kingdom, the courtyard and everything, he wants to end the night with a private dinner in the royal garden. sitting across from you under their two moons, his faerie skin sparkling in his true form.

── . tentacle monster boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ while tentacle monster!bf would love to take you back to his realm and show you all the delights, he knows he can't. knows you'd be easily taken as a servant there, a common practice in his homeland. he settles for a comfort food picnic by the water where you both may swim.

꩜ tenatcle monster!bf refused go let you help or know much of anything about the date wanting it to be a surprise for you! he'd help pack some clothes for you to make sure you'll be comfortable.

꩜ his face lights up when you do your little happy dance about the food he packed. he prides himself on knowing you oh so well.

꩜ swimming with you is tentacle monster!bf’s favorite part, getting to be immersed in the natural body of water. not to mention, getting to play with you in the water, wrapping you in his tendrils and creating waves in the nornally waveless lake.

── . shadow monster boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ shadow monster!bf is a little on the basic side, or at least that's what he would say. he loves an old fashion movie and dinner. the movie theatre is the best place for him, as he can sit comfortably in the dark shadows of the viewing room.

꩜ he'd think over the kind of movie for a few days before asking if you'd be up for it. he doesn't really care if it's perfect as things like that don't happen for him very often. he just wants you to be happy. he'd eventually land on horror, remembering he read somewhere it makes the girl cuddle more and that makes it romantic or whatever.

꩜ shadow monster!bf is not like orc!bf or demon!bf he's not very egotistical or even confident. days leading up to the date he's researching anything and everything he can, he's always been ignored having always been in the shadows. so he's not very experienced with dating and you're so pretty.

꩜ picking the restaurant was the hardest part for him, most places are pretty well lit and not being able to slunk into the shadows makes shadow monster!bf very anxious. he eventually ends in a hibachi grill, daek enough to be comfortable but light enough you'll still be anle to look on him. when you arrive you can tell how nervous the poor virgin monster was.

── . demon boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ demon!bf would want something fun yet a little competitive; he decides the best thing would have to be an arcade with a built-in diner. something fun, casual that would end in fun banter. he finds one that has that retro kind of vibe, something that would have a layer of nostalgia.

꩜ as soon as he propses the idea, he'd give a little bite of, “unless you're scared to lose?” he'd raise his eyebrows in mischief and you knew it would be a very fun night.

꩜ demon!bf would immediately bring you over to the skee ball, something easily fun and competitive exactly his mission. you're both smiling and laughing as you smirk and say “i'll gonna wipe the floor with ya, then we'll see who's a loser.” “you got it, sunshine, if i win I'll get a kiss.” demon!bf is cheeky, his tail lightly smacking you on the ass.

꩜ you wouldn't be able to remember a better and more excitable date, you have to have him, inviting him in when he drops you off for the night.

── . angel boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ angel!bf wants to take you on a first date that will be filled with entertainment and enrichment. angel!bf rattles his brain, working over several ideas to make sure it's just perfect. he worries himself to hell and back, with wanting you to be happy. after this he decides on a pottery class with wine tastings. he thought it was romantic yet composed.

꩜ he's so excited when he tells you about the plan, wanting to make sure you don't wear your best clothes in case of mess from the clay or a spill from the wine. angel!bf wishes no harm towards your belongings.

꩜ you're happy to attend this date with him, and the instructor even comments on how in love the two of you look.

꩜ the night would end with angel!bf politely asking, “may i kiss you, i had such a nice time and i know it's a common human practice.”

── . satyr boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ satyr!bf loves to go on outdoorsy dates, but this one he wanted to make sure involved alot of time where you can just chat. satyr!bf loves talking, even more than that, he loves listening to you talk. so because of that, he chooses a carriage ride finished by strawberry patch picking.

꩜ traveling and foraging is something satyr!bf is super familiar with. he's told of multiple travels that he's done and loves sharing it with you.

꩜ satyr!bf shares fun facts about the flora, and fauna of the area, and listening to you excitedly tell how you've always wanted to ride in a carriage like a real princess, “i may not be royalty, but you'll always be my princess.” finishing the sentiment with a kuss on your knuckles.

꩜ when you arrive to the patch filled with strawberry bushels, that's when satyr!bf would present you with a specially made basket with your name engraved on it, as he explains he's going to take you on a series of dates of foraging, picnicing and antique shopping.

── . succubus girlfriend ✦

╰┈➤ succubus!gf loves the ciry nightlife, loves going out at night. the city gives a palpable sexual energy that she cannlightly feed on all night long, so she doesn't kill you at the end of the night. succubus!gf takes you her favorite club, it's not a dancing club something much more smoother, more luxurious.

꩜ succubus!gf won't keep her hands off of you when she brkngs you around, knowing all the men who reaide her will undress you with their eyes. she has to make sure they know you belong to someone.

꩜ if a particular club customer can't keep their eyes and especially their hands to themselves, she'll kiss you breathlessly. to prove a point and because she loves the dumbstruck look you get after everytime your lips touch.

꩜ by the end of the night, succubus!gf had you draped in her lap, head tucked into her neck tipsy from the energy stealing and the alcohol she was feeding to you. you're just so easy that way.

── . incubus boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ incubus!bf would love to go dancing with you or take you for dancing classes you can partake in together. something intimate yet not too sensual. he doesn't want younto bite off more than you can chew, because once he starts going it's hard for him to stop (albeit not impossible, but much harder for incubi than most monsters.)

꩜ he’d sign you up for a waltz, something vesy close with alot of eye contact while also being a good talent to have.

꩜ (ignore if you didn't love princesses as a child:) little did incubus!bf know you loved princesses and knew that's what they all did. you excitedly squealed at the idea of getting to dance like they could.

꩜ it was romantic and a fun thing to do, incubus!bf didn't take into consideration that you might be a little clumsy ans stepping on his toes a few too many times. you tried to laugh it off, and he did too, bringing you both closer.

── . siren girlfriend ✦

╰┈➤ siren!gf loves going on dates that involved water, this time would be no different. siren!gf has been meticulously planning a getaway weekend. she'd be dumb not to notice all the stress you've been under, and ushers you to agree to a weekend of no work or family, just the two of you together.

꩜ there's several things she plans with the weekend, one being the location, a small offshore island that you wouldn't possijly run into anyone either of you know. another thing would be the activities swimming in the ocean with sharks, collecting seashells and getting massages.

꩜ knowing your siren!gf is apart of the ocean makes the shark swimming all the easier to handle. siren!gf smiles warmly at you, while she converses with the shark that her beautiful baby is off limits.

꩜ siren!gf finishes off the weekend with easing all your stress in the most physical way, lapping hungrily at your sweet spot.

── . dragon boyfriend ✦

╰┈➤ dragon!bf want to take you on a flight, showing off his scales and unbelievably long wingspan. swift flying around moutains, so you could see the fresh snow and back down into a beautiful flower filled valley. urging you to see his secret cave overflowing with beautiful gems.

꩜ dragon!bf who looks on you lovingly as you collect flowers and make matching flower crowns for the two of you.

꩜ dragon!bf who is falling for you so quickly and with such intensity he allows you to pick one gem to take home with you. even urges you to take the pretty rose quartz he has surrounded by red flora.

꩜ dragon!bf who loves to nuzzle up with you and winds down the night by wrapping himself around you. enveloping you in his smoky scent.

[endrae]

Trying to scrape up from the current art block by doing some new token art for uncle Naeem

[loveesiren]

𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖬𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 (𝖯𝗍. 8)

Choi Seunghyun x fem!reader x Kwon Jiyong | Masterlist

a/n: As always, I'm using Jiyong and Seunghyun as characters. I'm not in any way shape or form suggesting that they'd act this way in real life.

synopsis: Feelings are hurt, grief is a strange thing, we take it out in weird ways. But Seunghyun and Y/n just want their friend to wake up.

warnings: dark i guess, hospital, car accident, rough slightly unwanted sex (borderline grape I guess but not graphic), angst, lots of feels, drunk editing, MDNI 18+, if you'd like a summary without reading, DM me

wc: 4.3k+

The crash was horrific. Jiyong hadn’t seen the semi barreling through the intersection until it was too late. There was a sickening crunch of metal meeting metal, then the world turned upside down—literally. His car flipped, once, twice, three times, the screech of twisting steel and shattering glass echoing through the night. The engine ignited on the final roll, flames licking hungrily along the crumpled hood, black smoke curling into the air like a wild fire.

By the time you and Seunghyun had made it outside it was pure chaos. Sirens howled. Lights flashed. A crowd had gathered, necks craned, camera phones out, some already recording. But none of it registered. All you saw was the burning wreckage—and the stranger. A man covered in soot, hands trembling, dragging Jiyong’s limp body across the pavement just seconds before the car exploded behind him, sending a burst of heat and debris into the air. That man, whoever he was, had saved his life.

Your legs buckled at the sight.

The glare from the ambulance flood lights seared into your eyes, making it hard to focus. Police shouted over radios, trying to push back the growing crowd, and the paparazzi—fucking vultures—had somehow shown up already, shouting questions, snapping photos. It was too much. Your lungs seized. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. You wanted to run, to scream, to disappear.

Jiyong's body—so pale, so bloody, his face barely recognizable—was carefully loaded into the back of the ambulance. You couldn’t stop crying. The tears came like a dam breaking, soaking your face, your shirt, your trembling hands. Seunghyun pulled you into his side, one arm wrapping around you tightly as if trying to shield you from the nightmare unfolding. His face was buried in your hair, his own sobs shaking both of you as you stood there, helpless, watching the man you both loved so much disappear behind those white ambulance doors.

-

The hospital waiting area felt like the backrooms.

Too bright. Too sterile. Too quiet — except for the occasional ring of a phone at the reception desk or the rhythmic clacking of keys from someone behind the counter. But even those sounds felt muted, distant, like the world was operating at half-speed while all of you sat frozen in a grief that hadn’t even fully arrived yet.

You sat curled up on the stiff plastic chair, knees drawn to your chest, arms wrapped around your shins like they could somehow keep you from unraveling completely. Seunghyun was beside you, close enough to feel his presence but not touching. Neither of you could. There was too much space between you now, and none of it had to do with physical distance.

Across from you, Daesung stared blankly at the floor, his fingers twitching against his leg. Taeyang kept rubbing his hands together, like he could pray the panic away. Seungri looked like he’d aged ten years in the last hour, chewing on the edge of his thumb, phone clutched tightly in his other hand though he hadn’t looked at it in a while. Not really. 

They were all waiting. Hoping. Dreading.

Jiyong’s manager sat silently in the far corner, head bowed, lips pressed into a tight line. A few YG staffers dotted the waiting room, whispering among themselves, but their presence felt like white noise. No one was really speaking. What could they possibly say?

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. Your vision swam, not from tears — not yet — but from the pressure of holding them back. You blinked furiously, refusing to let them fall. Not here. Not now. Not in front of them.

Because this was your fault.

Every single agonizing minute that passed, you reminded yourself of that.

He’d been leaving your apartment. After your fight. After you'd shattered him with words you couldn’t take back. You could still hear the slam of the door. You could still feel the weight of his anger, his heartbreak, pressing down on your chest.

You buried your face in your arms. It hurt to breathe.

Beside you, Seunghyun leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were bone white. He hadn’t spoken since arriving at the hospital. Hadn’t moved much either. But his mind was racing.

It was his fault too.

He should’ve taken Jiyong’s keys. He should’ve told him to stay the night. He should’ve been a better friend — his best friend. But instead, he let him walk out of that bar. Walk out of your apartment. Stumbling and furious, still drunk, still hurting.

And now they were all sitting here, waiting to find out if Jiyong would wake up at all.

Seunghyun glanced at you from the corner of his eye — your small, shaking form beside him, silent tears finally sliding down your cheeks.

He wanted to reach for you. Wanted to hold you and tell you everything was going to be okay.

But it wouldn’t have been true.

And the truth was — neither of you knew who you were grieving harder for:

Jiyong…

Or the pieces of yourselves that had broken beyond repair.

The sterile hush of the hospital waiting room shattered as the doors creaked open and the doctor stepped out, clipboard in hand, his expression unreadable.

Jiyong’s manager was on his feet before anyone else could even register the movement.

“What’s going on?” he asked, urgency sharpening his voice.

“We need to speak to his family,” the doctor replied, scanning the room with a professional detachment that made your stomach twist.

“His family is on their way,” his manager said quickly, already stepping forward. “But I’m his manager. I’ve been listed on his emergency contacts. We can speak, let’s go talk.” He said, voice eager.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, then gave a tight nod. Without another word, he turned and let himself be led down the hall, disappearing behind the same doors Jiyong had vanished through over an hour ago.

The silence left in their wake was heavier than anything that came before it.

Taeyang sat forward, rubbing his hands over his face before looking at Seunghyun, eyes narrowed with confusion and fear.

“So… what the hell happened?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Didn’t you guys go out tonight?”

Every nerve in your body lit up like a warning flare.

You couldn’t breathe. Your chest rose and fell in rapid bursts. Your palms were slick with sweat. You could feel the stares of the other boys — of everyone — even if they weren’t looking directly at you. The pressure was suffocating. The truth was crawling its way to the surface, clawing through the cracks like smoke before a fire.

Seunghyun inhaled slowly. His jaw tightened. You felt his hand come to rest on your knee, grounding you for just a second. But it wasn’t comfort. It was confirmation.

“He was drunk,” Seunghyun said quietly, his voice low and rough.

That was it. Just those three words.

Taeyang flinched slightly, and Daesung swore under his breath.

“He was drunk,” Seunghyun repeated, more to himself now, like he was trying to make sense of it, trying to say it enough times to believe it. “And stupid.”

You bit down hard on your lip, hard enough to taste blood. Tears stung the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You couldn’t. Not yet.

Because even if Seunghyun was technically right, it wasn’t the whole story. Jiyong had been drunk, yes. And reckless. But he hadn’t crashed just because of the alcohol in his veins.

He had crashed because of you.

Because he had stormed out of your apartment with your voice still echoing in his head — every bitter word, every rejection, every cruel truth you hadn't meant to come out the way it did. He’d left with a cracked-open heart and nowhere to put the pieces.

You had taken away the one thing he didn’t even realize he wanted until it was already gone.

A child.

A future.

A family.

And that was what had been driving him faster than he should have been. That was what blurred his vision more than the whiskey ever could. That was what made him miss the light. What made him not see the semi barreling through the far too busy intersection outside your apartment.

Yes, Jiyong had been drunk.

But he had also been hurting.

The doctors, the lawyers, the managers — they’d sort it all out. They’d write it up in reports and argue it in meetings. There would be contracts and coverage and headlines. They’d fix it up for the public.

But none of that changed the truth.

He had been speeding away from your front door with a black hole in his chest, crushed beneath the weight of the love he couldn't keep, and the future he didn’t get to fight for.

And now all any of you could do was wait.

Wait for news.

Wait for forgiveness.

Wait for a miracle.

You stood up without saying a word. No one tried to stop you. No one even looked up. Maybe they understood, or maybe they just didn’t know how to speak anymore. Either way, you were grateful. You needed the air. Needed the distance. Needed a break from the guilt pressing down on your chest.

Outside, the night was cool and still, and the moment the sliding ER doors shut behind you, it was like someone turned the volume down on the world. The hospital buzz faded, replaced by the soft hum of passing cars and the gentle breeze rustling the trees nearby.

You lit your cigarette with shaking fingers, bringing it to your lips like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. The smoke filled your lungs, acrid and warm, and for just a second, you could almost pretend none of this was real. Almost.

You were halfway through your cigarette when you heard the doors behind you hiss open again.

You didn’t turn around. Not at first. You just exhaled slowly, hoping—praying—it wasn’t anyone. That you could just be alone with your guilt for a little while longer.

But then you saw him out of the corner of your eye.

Seunghyun.

He looked nothing like the man you knew.

His shoulders were hunched, his expression hollow, like someone had scooped the life out of him and left the shell behind. His hands were in his pockets. His eyes were red-rimmed, though you weren’t sure if it was from crying or just exhaustion. Or maybe both.

You silently held out your cigarette pack and the lighter.

He took one wordlessly, and sat down beside you on the low stone wall near the hospital entrance. The click of the lighter was the only sound between you as he lit up, inhaling deep like he needed it more than air.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. You just stared up at the night sky, the stars shining far too brightly for how dark the world felt right now.

You wanted to reach for his hand. You wanted to press your palm against his, to offer some kind of comfort, even if you didn’t deserve to give it. But you didn’t move.

“Seunghyun, I—” you started, voice thin and raw.

But he didn’t let you finish.

“You should go home,” he said, cutting you off with a quiet firmness that hurt more than if he’d yelled.

You looked down at your shoes, swallowing hard. “I-I don’t want to go back there…” you muttered, barely audible.

The words carried too much weight.

Your apartment. The place where Jiyong had stood broken and shaking, where the worst things had been said. Where you’d sent him out into the night with a wound he hadn’t been able to outrun.

You couldn’t go back to that.

Seunghyun sighed, and the sound was so heavy it made your chest tighten all over again. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys and holding them out to you.

“Here,” he said. “Go to my place.”

You hesitated. “I—”

“I don’t want you here,” he said, voice sharper now. Not yelling. Just... tired. Defeated. Final.

The words sliced through you like glass. You flinched, your hand recoiling from the keys even though you knew he wasn’t wrong.

“I want to make sure—”

“I’ll call if there’s an update,” he said, already turning his gaze away. “Just...go.”

You stared at him, your vision going blurry with tears. But you knew better than to argue. Not now. Not with him. Not with everything so fragile and raw.

You nodded, swallowing the sob threatening to climb your throat.

You called an Uber and didn’t look back.

-

Seunghyun’s apartment welcomed you like a ghost. Everything was familiar — the scent of his cologne still clinging to the air, the soft hum of the fridge, the faint echo of laughter that only existed in your memory now.

You walked slowly through the space, your fingers trailing over the back of the couch, the counter, the hallway wall — like touching these things would somehow bring you back to a time when this place felt like home. When he felt like home.

You reached the bedroom and stripped out of your clothes with a kind of numb autopilot. You opened his drawer and pulled out one of his oversized t-shirts — the one he always wore on lazy Sunday mornings.

You slipped it over your head, the fabric brushing your skin with a familiar comfort, and for a moment, it felt like you could still feel his arms around you.

But it wasn’t real.

You climbed into his bed, curling into his side of the bed, breathing in the remnants of him like they were oxygen.

And then it hit you.

All of it.

The crash.

The guilt.

The fact that Jiyong might never open his eyes again.

The fact that Seunghyun was done with you.

The fact that you may have lost everything.

A choking sob ripped from your throat as you curled into yourself, burying your face into his pillow.

Your body shook with quiet, helpless grief.

Tonight had changed everything.

And there was no going back.

-

The loud slam of the front door jolted you awake. Your entire body tensed, your heart hammering in your chest as your mind scrambled to make sense of where you were.

Then it hit you. Seunghyun’s house.

You sat up slowly, blinking through the haze of sleep. The room was dim, lit only by the morning sun peaking through the blinds, casting pale shadows across the walls. You strained to hear footsteps, movement — anything — but the house had gone quiet again.

It had to be him. He must’ve come home from the hospital.

You waited, every second dragging out painfully as dread curled in your stomach. You counted the minutes in your head, clinging to the silence like it might give you an answer.

After what felt like forever, you heard the soft creak of the bedroom door.

Seunghyun stepped in.

He barely looked at you.

His eyes skimmed over your presence in his bed like you were furniture, like you weren’t someone he had once called “baby,” someone he had once held so carefully. 

Without a word, he walked past you and shut the bathroom door behind him.

You sat frozen, still beneath the blankets, unsure what to do. Your skin pricked with nerves. Did he want you here? Did he even remember that he’d told you to come? Or had that been guilt talking?

The weight of your thoughts crushed you. You laid back down, curling onto your side, arms wrapped tightly around your core. Your heart felt like it might crack open. You whispered a quiet prayer into the silence, not for yourself, but for Jiyong.

Please let him be okay.

Fifteen agonizing minutes passed before the bathroom door opened again. You glanced over your shoulder as Seunghyun walked back into the room, dressed in nothing but his boxers. He climbed into bed beside you wordlessly and grabbed the remote, flicking on the TV. An old sitcom started to play — something bright, cheerful, completely out of place against the oppressive weight in the room.

You chewed your bottom lip, uncertain. The air between you was too thick with unspoken grief and regret. Still, you tried.

“Seunghyun…” you said softly.

No response.

He stared at the screen, his face expressionless.

You tried again, your voice cracking with hesitation. “Is… is there any update? On Ji?”

He took a slow breath through his nose. The pause before he answered made your chest tighten.

“He’s out of surgery,” he finally said. His voice was flat, tired. “Hasn’t woken up yet.”

You felt the sting of tears in your eyes again, but blinked them back quickly. You didn’t deserve to cry. Not after everything.

“Is he going to be okay?” you asked, barely able to form the words.

“I-I don’t know, Y/n,” he said, and for the first time since he got home, there was emotion behind his voice. Sadness. Defeat. “His family’s with him. They told us to go home…rest.”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. A long silence passed before you worked up the nerve to ask, “D-Do you want me to leave?”

The question hung in the air like a loaded gun.

He was quiet for a long time, and just when you were sure he wasn’t going to answer, he whispered, “No.”

You were stunned.

You didn’t know what he meant. You didn’t know if it was love, or guilt, or just the unbearable weight of being alone right now. But you didn’t argue. You didn’t say another word.

You sat in silence beside him, the two of you watching the flicker of people laughing on a screen neither of you were really seeing.

Thirty minutes passed like that. Maybe longer.

Then, without warning, his hand moved. Slowly. Deliberately.

It slid across the bed and settled on your thigh. Warm. Heavy. Familiar yet foreign.

His fingers crept higher, brushing the edge of your panties, and your breath caught in your throat. Your body reacted before your brain could catch up — tension coiled in your belly, heat blooming where his fingers hovered.

You turned toward him instinctively, crawling over his hips, straddling him.

Your lips met in a rush of desperation and pain. He didn’t pull back. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, deeper. One slid down your back, gripping your ass roughly. His nails dug in. Then came the sharp crack of his palm landing on your cheek.

You whimpered into his mouth.

And that sound — that soft, broken sound — snapped something in him.

He flipped you beneath him with a strength that startled you, not even bothering to undress fully before pushing his boxers down just enough to free himself. He didn’t pause, didn’t ask, didn’t look at you. He pushed your panties to the side.

You didn’t even have time to prepare before he shoved into you.

You cried out, the stretch almost painful. Your nails dug into his shoulders, trying to ground yourself, but he didn’t slow down. Didn’t soften.

He thrust into you hard, fast, his pace punishing. You felt the bed frame creak under the force of it, your breath catching as his hand wrapped around your throat.

“Seunghyun…” you whimpered, your voice strangled.

He leaned close, grunting in your ear, his fingers tightening.

You could feel it now — this wasn’t intimacy. This wasn’t love.

It was anger.

Grief.

Trauma.

“Was he better than me?” he whispered, his voice venomous, hips snapping forward harder.

You gasped at the sting, tears springing to your eyes.

“Who fucks you better, huh?”

“Seunghyun!” you screamed, shoving at his chest. “You’re hurting me!”

He froze for a split second.

You pushed again, harder this time, and he rolled off of you, chest heaving as the realization of what just happened hit him like a freight train.

He stared at you — really saw you now — your eyes red, your body trembling, clutching the sheets tightly around you like a shield.

The darkness in his eyes vanished, replaced by horror.

“Shit,” he whispered, sitting up and dragging both hands through his hair. “Shit, Y/n… I’m—I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t answer. You couldn’t even look at him.

You choked back a sob, stumbling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom. You locked the door behind you, pressing your back to it, sliding to the cold tile floor.

And there, in the silence…you broke.

“Y/n, please…” Seunghyun’s voice came through the door, broken and muffled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear to god I didn’t…”

You sat on the cold tile floor, your knees hugged to your chest, arms trembling as your fingers dug into your skin. The sobs shook through you violently, unstoppable, as the night played over and over in your head like a film reel you couldn't turn off.

Everything was broken.

Jiyong. Seunghyun.You.

The man you loved had just used you as an outlet for his pain — not a partner, not someone to hold, but someone to unload on. You felt every thrust like an accusation. Every movement screamed at you: You did this. You destroyed us. You ruined everything.

But it wasn’t just anger. It was grief. It was guilt. It was heartbreak on both ends, a tangle of too many things neither of you had the tools to process.

“I’m sorry,” Seunghyun choked out again. You could hear the weight in his voice, the kind of sorrow that buckled you at the knees. “Please, can we just talk? I can’t breathe without knowing you’re okay…”

And still, even with how scared you were… your heart ached for him.

You loved him. So fucking much.

Maybe that was the worst part — that even after what had just happened, a part of you still wanted to comfort him. To reach for him. To fix what was already in ruins.

Maybe you deserved it.

Maybe you didn’t.

You shifted, hands trembling as you unlocked the bathroom door and slowly cracked it open.

He was sitting right outside, legs folded beneath him, arms resting on his knees. He looked… small. Tired. Wrecked. He’d changed into sweats and an old, worn t-shirt, the one he usually slept in when you stayed over. His eyes were red, tear tracks still glistening on his cheeks.

You tugged your borrowed shirt down, trying to cover yourself, suddenly painfully aware of your body. His gaze flicked to you and quickly away, like even he couldn’t look at what he’d done.

Without a word, he grabbed the blanket off the bed and handed it to you. You took it, wrapping it tightly around yourself, grateful for the shield between you.

You sat beside him, leaning back against the wall, your shoulders just barely brushing. The silence was suffocating, but you weren’t ready to break it.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n,” Seunghyun whispered, voice hoarse with emotion. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You swallowed, staring blankly at the floor. “Yeah. I did.”

“No.” His voice snapped sharper now, filled with conviction. “No, you didn’t.”

He turned to you then, really turned, his eyes bloodshot and wide. “I took everything I was feeling and dumped it on you. I used you. That’s not love. That’s not who I want to be. That’s not who I am.”

You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

“I caused all of this,” you finally said, your voice so small it was barely audible.

He sighed and dropped his face into his hands. “I don’t even know how to start this conversation.”

“I don’t think it’s the time to have it,” you whispered.

He nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was heavy. Wounded.

You stared ahead, unsure if you were waiting for something or if there was simply nothing left to say. Until finally…

“D-Did you tell everyone the whole story?” you asked, heart pounding in your chest.

He shook his head, slow and deliberate. “No. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I want Jiyong to wake up first,” he said, his voice cracking at the name. “I want him to be okay. I just… I need him to be okay so bad, Y/n. He’s my best friend.”

And then he crumbled.

He collapsed into your lap and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as the sobs came. Violent. Uncontrolled.

You held him without thinking. Your hands tangled in his hair, your lips pressed to the crown of his head. And then you were crying too. The two of you sobbing into each other, curled up on the bedroom floor like children who had just lost their favorite toy.

You cried for Jiyong.

For yourselves.

For the pieces of this mess you didn’t know how to put back together.

-

An hour passed like that. Eventually, the tears dried, leaving nothing but swollen eyes and silent exhaustion.

“Seunghyun,” you whispered, brushing the hair from his forehead. “Have you slept?”

He sniffled and shook his head. “Not really.”

“You need rest,” you said gently.

He nodded, eyes fluttering. “Will you… rub my back?”

His voice cracked again, soft and wounded, like a little boy asking his mother for comfort. It nearly broke you all over again.

You smiled through the ache. Remembering the last few months how you coaxed him to sleep that way. “Yeah. I will.”

You helped him into bed, pulling the blankets over both of you as he curled onto his side. You slid in behind him, your fingers trailing lightly across his bare back. Drawing soft shapes like you used to. Slow, soothing motions to ease him into rest.

His breathing began to slow. His body finally relaxed.

And you stayed there, in the quiet, drawing circles into his skin and wondering if either of you would ever feel whole again.

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[girlsworldillusion]

Ocean's Tear

Aemond x Siren!Reader

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

Captain Targaryen, they called him.

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

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

Taking an interest in a human.

Rated: M +18

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

Word account: 9k

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

At first it was just curiosity. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shouldn't entertain your curiosity. 

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

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

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

Fuck. You are such an idiot. 

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

He lights a cigarette. 

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

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

Lonely. He looks lonely. 

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

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

But was that really what you were doing? 

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

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

You want to know what color his eye is.

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

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

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

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

As bright as... 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cried that day, for the first time.

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

It was frustrating and humiliating. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's a thief. A sneaky usurper. 

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

"How did you get this?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was just you, interested in him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps, deep down, he meant well. 

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

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

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

Before you think, you are acting. 

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

Your head slowly emerges from the water.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except for one detail.

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

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

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

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

He blinks once. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But… 

You don’t want to. 

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

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

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

You snort. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was getting beyond ridiculous. 

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

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

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

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

(Yes, it could.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't listen. 

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

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

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

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

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

But the collision is inevitable like the approaching storm. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. Yes, of course. You know it. 

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

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

Aemond. 

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

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

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

You won’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh... I don't -"

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

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

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

Aemond Targaryen was every rule of survival that you ignored. 

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

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

But you can’t save him. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can't save him.

You can't... 

You... 

You can? 

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

[vintagerpg]

Chris Achilleos is, I think, one of the key artists for Fighting Fantasy, but had a long career of illustration work, though I have a feeling his pin-up calendars were more lucrative than the fantasy work. I don’t think the pin-ups are very interesting, but I do love it when the two branches collide, as in his cover for M. John Harrison’s A Storm of Wings. I’ve not read it yet, but based on the action of The Pastel City, I kind of doubt there is much going on that involves giant bees and naked women. I could be wrong, though.

Anyways, highlights include “Who Dies First,” which was a White Dwarf cover, and that dragon attacking the castle, which fronted Titan. “Miss America” is one of the only pin-ups that I think works as non-pin-up art, maybe because there’s no nudity, but probably really because of the pose and all the detail in the leather coat. The Doctor Who stuff is pretty fun too. All in all, though, this feels like an artist’s first book. If I see later collections, I’d pick them up — I’d be keen to see how Achilleos grew over time. His babes are just full of gob-smacking detail, but underwhelm my imagination while his fantasy art is light on technique but fully inspiring. I’d like to see how those two polarities grew closer over time.

[rauferes]

[ladiemars]

my d&d character and her long-term low-commitment casual boyfriend

[witchthewriter]

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐴𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝐴𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Also this is 18+

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑽𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・“Darling…” He sighs lightly, fingers over the bridge of his nose. "Must you have your human zoomies in here. There is a whole castle and I am trying to do work."

・Pouting, you scamper over to his desk and climb upon it.

"It has been at least a year since you've kissed me."

"I kissed you three minutes ago."

"How would you know."

"I have a clock on the wall."

・Sighing, you climb off the desk and peer over his shoulder. His work looks like the most boring thing on earth to you.

・Then that restless feeling takes over once more.

・With gusto, you announce: "I MUST be ravished or else I'll DIE."

"Well, we mustn't have that," he says in a voice that leaves your thighs wobbling.

・As he turns around, you look him in the eye and grin.

・He knows that grin.

"But I must be chased first."

・You turn and run.

As you leave the room he mutters, "You test my patience like no mortal ever has."

・And yet, he still follows after you. Indulging you by not using his vampire speed.

𝑾𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Usually, you're quite well-behaved in meetings, but today you just needed ...attention. Well, more attention, than usual.

・And it did not help that Winter was starting again...and your warm boyfriend was much too involved in the meeting.

・Right now, all you want is to crawl into his lap and be lavished upon with kisses...and praise.

・Sighing, you place your cold hands underneath his shirt and rest them on his back.

・Immediately he growls under his breath, low and rumbly. “Pest.”

・But doesn't remove your hands, only shifts closer to you, but to your dismay, he is still engrossed in the meeting.

・To be fair, you had been trying to annoy him... a bite here, a nudge there - you even unlaced his boots with your toes. But he endured it all. With a small smirk on his face.

・But your next action brought him to the brink.

・Letting out a little whine, you move your legs so they're resting over his massive thigh. Instinctively he wraps his large hands over your legs.

Wrapping your arms around his muscular one, you whisper: "I'm bored, can we leave now. Please."

・Since you had worked him up for the last hour, all he can do is nod.

・Without a word, he scoops you up, and as your leaving, whispers in your ear: "you do know you're gonna pay for this at home? My pretty pest."

𝑶𝒓𝒄 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Completely and utterly focused on sharpening his blade, you've called his name again and again.

・Yet all you get in response is a grunt.

・So, with every right...you go over and give a little tug on his tusks.

・He growls, low and gutteral, a warning. But does not stop you.

・Nor does he stop sharpening.

・You groan.

"When will this torture end," you whisper.

・Your boyfriend frowns.

"There is no torture?"

"You aren't paying attention to me!"

"I am busy."

"Then be busy with me."

"You do not care for sharpening blades?" He knows you too well.

"Obviously. I meant ... with ... me ... so put the blade down!"

・He looks at you and squints. Confused.

"Oh my god, I want you to kiss me."

"Then why not say that at the beginning?"

・You squint back at him, take the blade from his hands, put it aside and straddle his lap.

"I guess I will kiss you now," he says with a smile, and all you can do is huff.

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏-𝑯𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Perched somewhere stupidly high and dramatic. You’re tossing pebbles at his tail from below.

“Come down, you dramatic lizard!”

・Frowning he looks down at you.

"I am watching the perimeter!"

"No! Come down and watch me instead!"

・With hands on your hips, you quirk your head to one side.

・With a huff, and the knowledge that you would throw pebbles at him for hours on end, he decides to come down.

・As he lands, he looks at you.

"Lizards cannot fly. I can fly. Therefore, I am no lizard."

"Would it make you feel better if I said you were a sexy lizard?"

"A little - No, no it would not. Do not call me that again."

"Okay..." you reply in your most sultry voice.

・In one swift motion, you move your hand towards his ass and smack!

・He yelps and looks at you.

"You need to be put on a leash."

・With a huff, you look at him with that look..."That's the plan-"

𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・Your boyfriend loves chaos. He loves annoying you. But somehow when it's your turn to do the annoying, he cannot endure it.

・For the past fifteen minutes you have been flicking his tail, pulling and pinching as he makes dinner for you both.

・Everytime you touch it, he swats you with the end of it.

・After the tenth swat to your face (you've been giggling the whole time), he looks at you and raises an eyebrow.

“Do you enjoy testing my patience?”

・You poke his tail once again. “Yes. Also, how do you control your tail?"

"My darling, it is another limb. Like any other."

・You nod and stand up.

"What about these?"

・You stand on your tippy toes and rub his horns.

・He stills and looks at you, although not pulling away.

"I'm in love with a menace," he whispers, looking down at you.

"Gods, finally you look at me!"

"Excuse me?"

"It has taken you forever, to have your full attention."

"All of this was for-"

・He looks at you and grins.

"My dear, you are going to regret saying that..."

𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・One of your favourite things about your boyfriend is his sensitive wings ...

・A single finger brushing against his white feathers is like someone trailing their finger over your nipple.

・It's why he doesn't like to be around people with his wings out. The wrong touch makes him clam up.

・But when it's just the two of you...well...things are entirely different.

"Beloved, must you - ah!"

・He had only been staring out of the window, watching the sunset. But you wanted his attention on you.

"Ohh...does that tickle?"

"You know it does," he replies with a frown.

"I really shouldn't do it again," you said with fake self-discipline.

・Your boyfriend did not register the tone in your voice until it was too late.

・You did the same action again, only on the other wing.

"Oh!" He said with a jump.

・The look on his face made you feel a little guilty...but only a little.

"What is the matter with you?" He turns around, hands on his hips.

"I'm bored," you say with a sly smile.

・In a swift movement, he walks forward, lifts you from the floor and carries you to the bedroom.

"My love, you are going to regret those words."

𝑺𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒏 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・You hum off-key, while your boyfriend sings his melody.

・And gods do you know how much he hates that.

・As if on queue, he groans, flopping dramatically on the couch. “You’re ruining the harmony.”

・You scoff, throwing a pillow at him.

"You've actually said in the past that my voice is angelic."

"When did I say that?"

"You're kidding right? People have said I sound better ... than you."

・His eyes open with pure shock.

"Who said that."

・Nose flaring, arms crossing, he stares at you like his whole world has been a lie.

"A fisherman."

"..."

・Fighting to keep a straight face, you nod. About to continue when your boyfriend loses it.

"I am a siREN! I WAS BORN WITH THE SIREN'S SONG. MY VOICE HAS KILLED MEN FOR CENTURIES-"

・You start laughing but he does not stop.

"- I WAS MADE FOR THIS. I AM LITERALLY KNOWN FOR HAVING ONE OF THE BEST VOICES. EVEN IN MY POD. THEY SAID I HAD THE BEST VOICE-"

・Tears in your eyes, you snort and continue laughing. With a wheeze, you come clean, "I was joking-"

"Joking?"

"I was messing with you!"

"Ah."

𝑬𝒍𝒇 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

・He has so much patience.

・Especially for you.

・Your boyfriend is completely loving. He treasures your time together. Loves every second he's with you ...

・But his hair ... he doesn't like it messed with.

・And yet, for the past twenty minutes you have been braiding random sections of his perfect hair while he reads.

・His once long, perfectly brushed hair is now being plaited into hundreds of strands.

・You said to yourself, you'd stop as soon as he puts the book down. But an hour has gone by and his head is nearly complete.

“You are utterly insufferable,” he murmurs...though without moving away.

・With mischief in your eyes, you give him a sweet smile, "I just wanted your attention."

"If you wanted my attention, my love, you could have just asked."

"I do not like asking."

"I see that."

・His arms wrap around you in one quick motion, and hoist you into his lap.

・Smothering you with kisses.

・You laugh as the braids fall over your face.

・You cannot wait until he undoes them and is left with frizzy waves.

[fox-teeth]

Took my beaft stickers to The Met Cloisters to meet their real medieval counterparts.

Artworks Featured:

Basilisk panel from Arch with Beasts, French c. 1150-75

Panther door mount, French early 11th century

Aquamanile in the Form of a Dragon, German c. 1200

Siren detail from Dragon fresco, Spanish after 1200

The Unicorn Rests in a Garden, French/South Netherlandish 1495-1505

(stickers for sale in my shop if you want a beaft to take to the museum)

[eisenbrave]

I'M NOT GOING BACK TO JAIL

[hootbon]

Guys I just had a thought, why has nobody done this yet-

..I’m..not making one because god forbid I have another au to make content for but.. an idea.. what if the sirens returned.. what if they won.

Or just a simple what if they returned anyhow.. debating (I used twilight as a base, just to get the point across so I wouldn’t say this is definitively what she’d look like but you feel me right?)

I could see an apocalyptic scenario with them, because think of it like this,

It’s a quiet place, but YOU have the block your ears out instead of being quiet, for hearing the sirens call will infect your mind with brainless malice and hatred.. violence. You’re either caught in the wind of the beastly creature’s voices or you’re killed by those who were. The only way to avoid them is to block it out, at all costs.. rip your ears out if you have to.

It’s just a little idea I came up with, I’m happy to share more if you guys would be interested in that!