#I used to do html with my eyes closed what happened

[mossistyping]

I think I'm finally going to put my first fic out there today... 😇I am Intimidated but nevertheless we persist

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ﾟ A/n: totally not trying to learn html (which technically isn't a programming language, for what I had read), and well, if Idia was teaching me I would learn everything so quickly tbh. Or not. He would start explaining and I would have the sudden urge to kiss him, oh well it happens ig

"Uh... I think I have an error in my code." You break the silence, tone soft as the computer screen lights up your eyes just the right way for Idia to lost himself in the reflex. He love your eyes, your concentrated face, the way you stick out your tongue without realizing.

And he loves the way you timidly look to him, as if he has all the answers to your questions - which, about this subject, he have, by the way.

"Ah~ your closing array is missing a closing slash. Here, Yuu-shi." He pointed your error with a soft tone, blue nail hitting the screen, and a surprised pout grew on your lips.

He wanted to smother you in his arms, to pick you up and hold you till his arms fell off and his corpse rot - that was how bad he yearned for you, your skin, you smell. He breathes really hard to refrain from doing it, though. You wouldn't want that. He was just a mere R card, a lonely gamer, a-

"Thank you, Idia. You're the best." You giggle to yourself, feeling yourself warm under his eyes and lousy smile. Unbeknownst to you, the only things that were going through his head were about you.

Your smile, the way your eyes lightened up, your laughters and giggles, the messages you passed each other in class (when he was there in person), your secret handshake. Idia loved you. He loved your very dearly.

He loved you so much that he could cry.

"Uh... it's no big deal," yet his hair was getting hotter, rosey tone starting to burn brightly. "Don't forget the closing stash, and everything should work properly. This programming language is not that used anymore, but most can learn useful things learning it anyway. I think."

Idia had half of his mind to know that he was rambling again, talking so fast that he could make Eminem cry. But he couldn't stop when you looked at him with such big eyes filled with curiosity and wonder, taking notes of everything he was saying.

He noted then that you had hello kitty stickers on your page. A few drawings that Ortho made of him, Idia and you; that almost killed him right then and there.

"Ah... HTML uses elements, tags, and attributes to organize text, images, links, and other multimedia elements. It can be combined with CSS for styling and JavaScript for interactivity."

[thatswhatsushesaid]

sometimes i have to remind people that JGS's a horrible and terrifying person. i sigh every single time bc people forget for some reason. is there anything you want to remind the fandom?

oh, many things lol. i suspect the people who most need to be reminded are not particularly interested in anything i have to say at this point, however, if they don't have me blocked already. but in short: yes! jin guangshan is a horrible person who ruthlessly takes advantage of jin guangyao's filial piety to further his own political agenda. he's the selfish, greedy, power-hungry villain that jin guangyao's detractors believe jin guangyao to be, and i think it's a fundamental misunderstanding of jin guangyao's character to state that he "becomes his father" by the time he comes into power. because that just isn't what happens, and there's no support for it in the text.

(edited to add: or rather, the "support" that his strongest detractors rely on to support their arguments falls apart under close scrutiny, because you quickly discover that when acting under his own power, jin guangyao chooses governance and moderation rather than greed and destruction. he's morally complex for sure, and willing to get his hands dirty and bloody, but he is not jin guangshan.)

to anyone reading this who feels tempted to say "but ray, the sex workers, the brothel--" please don't bring these crimes up if you're going to separate them from their emotionally charged catalyst, aka jin guangyao discovering that jin guangshan could have chosen to rescue meng shi from literal sexual slavery, but chose not to because "literate women are too much trouble." meng shi dies from her illness while languishing in poverty, when she did not have to; in jin guangyao's eyes, jin guangshan is his mother's murderer, and there is no one else in the novel that he loves more than meng shi (no, not even lan xichen!). do you hold wei wuxian's several month-long murder-torture bender of the wen sect disciples after the sacking of lotus pier against him years after it has happened and he is no longer vengefully murdering and torturing people? if you don't judge wei wuxian by the actions he takes 1) at his lowest, and 2) when he has been directly provoked into trying to protect himself, why do you choose not to extend that same grace to jin guangyao?*

* this is not actually an invitation to @ me with discourse on this post unless you're going to be normal about it. if you can't be normal, please save us both the time and energy we'd otherwise waste spatting with each other, and just, idk. go play the sims or something.

---

this post has been added to my dreamwidth meta archive here: https://thatswhatsushewrote.dreamwidth.org/1256.html

[python333]

task force 141 reacting to [reader] having excessively watery eyes — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the title says once again! tf141 and their reactions to [reader] having excessively watery eyes. if you want to get a bit more medical, the term for it would just be 'high tear drainage capacity'! it's basically just something some people have where they naturally just produce more tears and as a result their eyes water excessively at (as far as i know) random times!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. john price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], might be ooc. :{

note i was watching super 8 when i got this idea, because my eyes got watery all of a sudden while watching it and i was like 'omg i should post this on tumblr' because i'm a writing whore so here i am again. my fingers hurt from typing all the things in html to make the text small and shit but we still up!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ he thinks you’re crying at first.

➥ it’s not his fault! he had no idea your eyes just water up randomly.

➥ when he sees your eyes well up with tears, depending on how close y’all are, his fatherly instincts—which he, obviously, developed after meeting gaz—kick in immediately.

➥ “Are you okay, [c/n]?” “Why are you crying?” “Did something happen? What happened?” “... What do you mean?” “This is normal?”

➥ he’s kind of embarrassed for worrying so much after you reassure him that you were okay and that your eyes just excessively water, to be honest.

➥ he’s glad that you’re okay though, obviously.

➥ he never really gets used to seeing you tear up randomly? even though you told him it was normal?

➥ like he knows that 99% of the time you tear up it’s just because you do that, but he still likes to be sure that you’re okay, so he always makes sure to ask if you’re okay.

➥ he’s such!! a father!! i’m crying!! and it's not just my excessive eye watering!!

—

You both had just been hanging out in the recreation center, Price on the couch and you sitting on a chair right by that couch. You were scrolling through your phone, while Price was reading the newspaper—usual old man activities. While scrolling through your social media feed, you didn’t even notice the way tears started to well up in your eyes until your vision got blurry and you felt a small, wet trail of a single tear roll down your cheek.

You’d sighed and pulled a pocket-sized tissue pack out out your pocket, pulling out a tissue and dabbing at your eyes, ridding them of the tears. Of course, the tears didn’t just stop there, they kept coming, so you kept wiping and dabbing at your eyes, hoping that they would go away soon. This was a fairly regular occurrence— for you.

Price caught sight of this and immediately looked worried. He stared at you for a moment as you wiped your eyes, wondering if he should speak up, and eventually had tentatively asked, “Are you okay, [c/n]?”

You looked over at him and pulled the tissue away from your face for a moment, “Yeah, why?” Your voice didn’t sound strained or hoarse like Price had expected, seeing as you were practically crying.

“You’re crying,” Price had pointed out, pointing to your eyes as if you couldn’t notice it, “Did something happen?”

You sat there, a bit dumbfounded, and Price took your silence as hesitation to tell him what was going on. “You can tell me what’s going on, [c/n]. I won’t judge you,” He’d reassured you softly, setting down his book and putting all of his attention on you.

Oh God. “Nothing happened,” You’d quickly assured him, “This is normal, don’t worry about it.”

“... What do you mean, ‘this is normal’?” Price asked, now confused as well as concerned, “You cry often, mate?”

“I mean, kind of?” You had replied, before sighing and clarifying, “My eyes just water up a lot. It’s not really crying.”

“Oh,” Price said dumbly, before nodding and giving you one last concerned look, “Right, then. Uh… sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” You smiled at him, going back to dabbing at your eyes with a tissue, while he reluctantly went back to his book.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ can’t mind his own business for the life of him.

➥ similar to price, he thinks you’re crying at first.

➥ but he doesn’t hesitate at all, the moment he sees you tearing up he’s like ‘woah what the fuck are you okay??’

➥ you have to firmly tell him that yes, you’re okay, you just have very watery eyes.

➥ he still offers to get you tissues and some water, worried by the amount of tears you’re producing, thinking you’re gonna get really dehydrated.

➥ makes sure you’re completely okay and that you’re not just making this all up to hide the fact that you’re actually crying.

➥ after that whole interaction, he doesn’t get as worried when your eyes randomly water up, and instead teases you about it.

➥ learns to know when you’re actually crying, just so that he can offer comfort when it’s appropriate, and tease you when it’s appropriate.

—

The two of you were hanging out in Ghost’s room, since his was cleaner than the both of your’s combined, and he was away on a mission. Soap laid down on Ghost’s bed while you were sitting on the edge of the same bed, the sheets and blankets wrinkled from you both moving around on the bed. Soap was scrolling through his phone while you sat opposite of him and read a book Price had recommended to you—in his usual old man pseudo-father fashion, he’d told you to spend less time on your phone and ‘read a damn book’—so you were doing just that.

It was when you’d just reached chapter six when your vision got blurry and you sighed, knowing what was happening already. It was just annoying, honestly, having to pull out your tissues every ten minutes because your stupid tear ducts couldn’t function properly. When you went to pull out the mini tissue pack you always carried with you—or so you thought—you were surprised to find that the familiar plastic rectangle of tissues were nowhere to be found in your pockets. You checked your back pockets, front pockets, and yet they weren’t in either.

You let out a small, frustrated sigh through your nose and got up from the bed, the movement making Soap look up and over at you.

“Hey, where are ye—blimey, are ye cryin’?” Soap questioned, his questioning tone quickly becoming concerned, “Are ye alright? It wasnae the book that made ye cry, aye?”

You looked back at Soap, sighing, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt, “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t even worry about it, it’s normal, I just need to go get some tissues.”

“What dae ye mean this is normal?” Soap asked, sitting up. I just want to grab tissues, man, You think, miserably before short explanation that yes, you’re okay, no, you’re not crying, your eyes are just watery—basically the same answer you give every who eventually asks about your little ‘quirk’.

“Ye sure ye’re alright?” Soap asked, just making sure you’re actually okay, “Ye’re definitely no’ crying?”

“Definitely not crying,” You confirmed, “Just watery eyes.”

“Alright, then,” Soap breathed out, relieved that you were okay, before getting up and asking, “Dae ye need some tissues, water, anythin’?”

“Just tissues,” You answered, walking towards the door, “I can get them—”

“Nah, nah, ye stay richt there!” Soap quickly said, somehow getting to the door before you despite him having been right in front of the bed moments earlier, “I’ll get it!”

You watched him run out the door at a speed comparable to the usain bolt and stayed there for a moment, just staring at the now opened door, before huffing out a small laugh and heading back to the bed and sitting down.

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ he doesn’t notice until you’re wiping at your eyes and huffing in frustration when tears keep coming.

➥ the first time it happened, he didn’t ask if you were alright verbally, but did shoulder nudge you and gave you a look that asks ‘are you okay?’

➥ when you nodded and continued wiping at your eyes, ghost gave you one last look before trusting that you were okay and continuing on with his day.

➥ he pretended he didn’t care but thought about it for a bit afterwards, especially if you guys are really close.

➥ he asked price if you tearing up is just a normal thing or if you were actually crying, and let himself relax when he was told that yes, your eyes just water up randomly.

➥ he’s naturally a very observant person and will be able to tell when you’re actually crying fairly quickly.

➥ he’ll still look you over to make sure you’re okay, of course, just to double check, but once he’s confirmed that your eyes are just getting watery again he’ll let himself relax.

➥ depending on how close you both are, he’ll carry around a pack of tissues for you.

—

You and Ghost were in a helicopter, another mission successful. It wasn’t the worst one you’d had—but it was far from easy to accomplish. You were reasonably tired after this mission, all the leftover adrenaline wearing off, making you slump a bit in your seat.

You were just about to close your eyes to rest them, when suddenly you realized how blurry your vision had gotten. You were confused for a moment before realizing—oh, right, that happens.

You sighed, knowing you didn’t bring your usual pack of tissues with you, thinking it would just take up useless space in the pockets of your tactical gear. You wiped your eyes with the gloves you’d been wearing, albeit they weren’t the best option but the sleeves of your shirt were far too short for you to use, the hem of your shirt was dirty, and while your gloves were dirty as well, the back of them weren’t nearly as filthy as the hem of your shirt.

As you wiped away with the back of your glove, Ghost noticed your watery eyes and nudged your shoulder with his own. You paused and pulled your hand away from your eye, giving him a questioning look. He didn’t say anything, but instead gave you a questioning look back, a look you assumed to be one that asked, ‘are you okay?’, judging by the way his eyes darted to your own very watery ones. You nodded, mouthing the words ‘I’m okay’, and he nodded back, going back to staring ahead of him.

Hours after you had gotten off the helicopter, you were walking by Price’s office, and couldn’t help but hear Ghost’s voice. Being the nosy person you are, you cautiously pressed your ear to the door.

“—don’t worry, it’s normal,” You heard Price reassuring Ghost, “I doubt they’d cry after a mission like that, anyway.”

“And they’ve told you it’s normal?” Ghost asked, just to confirm, “You know this for a fact?”

You didn’t stay long enough to hear the rest of the conversation, instead walking away and suppressing a smile at Ghost’s mildly worried tone.

—

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

➥ he notices pretty quickly.

➥ no matter how many times he’s caught you tearing up, he’ll still ask you if you’re okay.

➥ he makes sure to bring a clean handkerchief with him, just incase you forget your tissues.

➥ he’ll even bring it with him on missions, knowing you don’t want to bring your small pack of tissues with you.

➥ the first time he catches your eyes watering up, he gets pretty worried.

➥ he makes sure not to make a big deal out of it though, trying to be as considerate as possible, and instead quietly asks you if you’re okay.

➥ when you reassure him that you are and tell him your eyes are just naturally watery, he’s pretty relieved, and lets it go.

➥ he trusts that you told him the truth, and doesn’t question you again after that.

➥ around the fifth time it’d happened, he’d grown pretty used to it, so when you started tearing up walking back to the rendezvous point with him after a mission, he had a handkerchief ready for you.

—

You panted while you walked, trying to get your breathing under control. You’d done a lot of running today—while you were pretty fit, and could run perfectly fine, you didn’t particularly like running as fast as you can away from enemy soldiers while your teammates shot them down, leaving you praying that the bullets that tailed your feet didn’t hit you.

Eventually, you got your breath under control, but immediately afterwards, your eyes had started to water.

You sighed and were about to wipe at your eyes with your hands, before your hand was stopped mid air. You looked over at Gaz, who had caught your hand by the wrist and offered you a handkerchief with his free hand.

The handkerchief was fairly clean, and you grabbed it, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as you did. Gaz smiled at you and gave you a simple pat on the shoulder.

Once the two of you reached the rendezvous point, you handed him back the handkerchief, hoping that your grateful smile was enough to express your full gratitude.

[rt2417]

[Main Story 2] 20.07 Faust & Lennox

Really really quick TL of this part of chapter 7. I’ll fix this up with fancy HTML and more pics later... www

preface: faust wakes up in the western palace. first off he’s like “where’s shino? nero and heath?” and leno is like they’re all fine don’t worry. leno tells him where they are etc etc.

Faust: …I’m not sure I fully follow. 

Lennox: Suddenly a lot of things happened all at once…

Faust: And Figaro-sama? Isn’t he the one who saved me?

Lennox raises an eyebrow. An instant too late, I realized I was speaking like I did in old times. 

While I try to cover up my mistake, Lennox laughs quietly, shaking his shoulders.

As I watch the smile dawn on his face, I feel at peace.

Faust: I must convey my gratitude to him. Despite my audacious attitude, he still endured it with so much grace and warmth.

Lennox: I think Figaro-sama wasn’t bothered at all. Rather, he looks to be quite pleased about it. 

Faust: Pleased?

Lennox: I don’t know the reason, but that man seems like he’d be pleased even if he was walked all over. 

Faust: .......

Lennox: Was I being misleading?

Faust: You’ve grown close.

Lennox: It seems that way…… How do I say this… It’s thanks to you. 

I’ve seen the two of them having light hearted chats side by side, many times in the Wizard Manor. 

The scenes were peaceful and pleasant, but it was almost like the two people were strangers to me.

Their daily lives are unknown to me. Existing in their everyday world, there was a hint of mutual trust around them.

I didn’t want to destroy that peaceful scene by approaching them.

Perhaps I’m being too forward in drawing such a conclusion.

I was lonely and confused. I didn’t understand how to interact with them; the two who had become Southern Wizards. 

Faust: Leno… Why did Figaro leave us behind? 

Faust: Have you asked about it? 

Lennox: I have. However, I think Faust-sama should ask himself. 

Lennox: That man… I think it would be an enlightening life experience for him. 

Upon hearing the disrespectful remark, I can only stare at Lennox. 

Lennox looks awkward, averting his gaze. 

Lennox: I sincerely apologize…… To the one who is Faust-sama’s mentor. 

Faust: No, it’s fine. I suppose you consider him a friend. 

With our long-standing and intricate relationship, we were both respectful of one another. 

We held eye contact for a while, and before we knew it, we were laughing together. 

Quietly, Lennox’s fingers tighten as he takes my hand in his. 

Lennox: ……I’m thankful you’re safe… 

Faust: I apologize for worrying you…… You always come running to my side during serious matters. 

Faust: Thank you, for everything.

Lennox flashes a warm smile. Then, for a moment, an impish smile crosses his face. 

Faust: ……What?

Lennox: No... Do you mind?

Faust: It doesn’t matter, just say it.

Lennox: I’ve gotten particularly skilled in searching for you. 

I was hard pressed for a response. Lennox used the burden of 400 years in such a casual jesting manner. 

Lennox’s expression changes, and he clears his throat. 

Lennox: I apologize. I'll summon Shino and the others. 

Faust: Right. I’m relying on you.

[tenebrius-excellium]

Trying to find a topic for my master thesis and... struggling lol...

I'm not up to date on what's going on on any social media platform anymore. Even Tumblr has become impossible to navigate and is now definitively changing into a platform that I don't recognize.

I get involuntarily thrown on the For You page about 50% of refresh clicks now.

I don't understand what Communities does. You can't reblog from them - or can you once you join one? I don't know. I'm lost lmao.

It's become pointless wanting to analyze the culture of any existing social media site when that culture is being forcibly killed off faster than real time. Even for my last paper, I had to go back and edit information because everything was changing so fast.

I read through a list of the '22 leading social media sites in 2025', and Tumblr was #19 and the closing remarks below said "if you want to figure out which platform to use for your social media marketing strategy..." dude there is no strategy. There is no marketing. There is no agenda except to have fun, to look up information and to learn new things, to make friends.

I want a simple blog to design, maintain, and post on. When's the last time anyone actually visited their own full blog page (I'm not talking about that ugly pop-up thing)? Or someone else's? Yeah I can change the dashboard color now, but all I noticed when switching to dark mode was how many accounts within threads are actually deactivated.

I don't want a forced selection of free or costly design and post options, I actually used to dabble in HTML when it was still relevant. I was excited to design my own blog at its core level.

Either I'm aging and getting inflexible about internet changes, or the strains of being marketable are getting to me and are making me wanna quit. It's probably both.

This is the end of "social" media, now that we already have sign-up walls everywhere, paywalls are going to be next. Pay only 1.99 to be on Tumblr. Yeah no. This is the decadence of the 2020s online web, just before its inevitable decline, it's happened a hundred thousand times throughout history. Why do we think the internet isn't a sphere like any other civilization? There's a reason TikTok coined the term "Roman Empire" here and now, during this exact era of time. Either free, alternative platforms will become available on the internet again and ppl will just move there, or the internet as a whole space to stay on will collapse because ppl realize that they can't build their entire businesses and all their communication, relationships and hobbies on some billionaire's wallet running on another country's electricity. Someone in my circle of friends thinks that internet laws will likely increase, and I believe her. The hurdle for internet engagement will only become larger. Irl name & address confirmation to weed out bots, it's already here. National age and content restrictions for kids. I'm sure that stuff is around the corner, if not already in place. The generation after Gen Alpha might grow up without the internet again, but this time because it's forbidden to them, not because it isn't available.

The internet is only as strong of a meeting place as the affordances afforded to us, and they are getting smaller and smaller.

I see no point in writing about that.

I want to become a gardener and fish enthusiast. My new offline forums are the local florist and the old guy with the amazing eyes who keeps entire breeding populations of pretty fish in his basement. He's done this for 40 years. Nature itself taught me how to multiply roses, no DIY gardening blog written by AI with a bunch of lengthy, nonsensical stories inbetween.

I wanna get off the internet. I'm tired.

But I need to write a master thesis about the internet first.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Sorry I am not treating your post as less important, I was reblogging it to get eyes on it and to try to get tumblr to crowd source a tutorial from someone who knows how and has the spoons.

I recognize your post was a simple request to do it, but all the posts about it I see are a request to do it and I cannot ever find instructions anywhere on how in a way that's confirmed to work, and I was hoping someone could confirm a process. So there is usually a button to submit alt text, and if not there's html code that can be inserted into the post directly, is what I am getting from this?

Sometimes i just add text to a post describing the image but I have no way of knowing if it is "tagged" correctly, etc for the screen reader to acknowledge it as the alt text for the image, like as proper official alt text as a proper descriptor to a program, like the name of a string it would retrieve and output, which is why I was putting it in quotes. That's what I mean by "formatting", do we just add html to the post and then what is html that someone knows actually works on tumblr, because a lot of inserted html doesn't [I have tried].

These questions are rhetorical and to the larger audience, not me trying to grill you personally for answers. I am asking this of anyone who wants to answer on tumblr at large.

I have looked for a button on tumblr or an option and have never seen it, does someone [not to be passive aggressive, but to literally ask for someone who might need to be able to visually describe tumblr and knows where it is] know where the button is and can they add it to this post? Or to any post they see asking for people to add alt text, because the only reason I don't do it more habitually is I literally can't figure out how to. I am not saying that argumentatively, I am trying to give the literal reason it isn't happening more from my personal experience of the site.

I'm saying if someone wanted to figure out how this actually works on tumblr and the actual process of how to do it, and add that to the posts asking for alt text, someone who has the time and energy to figure it out, it might get a lot done. Not "more than your post" but as a helpful addition to all of these posts so that the people who only aren't doing it because they don't know how to get their answer.

I would have made a separate post asking if anyone knew how, but generally if I make a post asking questions myself they sit there with 0 notes forever and don't help anything. It seemed like asking the question where people would see it and could respond much more publicly might get more done.

The reason I didn't look it up is because I had before multiple times and gotten nowhere and I didn't have the energy, I was busy going through boxes and totes and am suffering with some cognitive symptoms at the moment, but since I'm typing this anyway, now, I tried again and it says this:

"After adding an image to your post, tap the 3 dots in the lower right corner to add alt text. The alt text should be a brief description of your image, as if you were describing it to someone over the phone, to make your post accessible to folks using a screen reader."

Which I was never able to do before because I can't find the circles they are talking about.

So let's try to confirm if this is updates and works!

The option doesn't show for me except as a transparent -now grey- circle in the bottom right and it took actual work to click on at all because of how skinny the image is, but it is not three dots and I am not sure it has always loaded properly for me before because I could never find it. It is showing as a grey shadow behind the red x button to close the image and I am not sure if it always does that or if it's the image dimensions, but it would explain me not being able to find it.

it should read: "A badly drawn image of 9 dots coloured red, orange, yellow, bright green, cyan, royal blue, purple and magenta, the last one being split between black and white. They are sloppy attempted circles by someone with poor coordination using a mouse"

Did that work? [anyone who wants to answer]

Is that the preferable process compared to:

[image id: A badly drawn image of 9 dots coloured red, orange, yellow, bright green, cyan, royal blue, purple and magenta, the last one being split between black and white. They are sloppy attempted circles by someone with poor coordination using a mouse"]

?

Which is what I usually see done on posts. Should we use both? Are other people having trouble finding the option/button to add alt text?

My frustration isn't at you, and was never intended to sound that way, if I sounded frustrated, it has always been that no one seeing -who knows how to describe the process- has been piping up to actually explain how anyone is supposed to actually go about adding alt text. I see posts all the time asking for it to be done, and I always reblog them to boost the issue, but -as a tech savvy person who can program and is good with computers- could not find a button or get a straight answer about how to, until now, which no one was adding to any of the posts.

It has been my thinking that it shouldn't be up to the visually impaired to know the exact process, because I am assuming they are not the ones ever actually adding the description, and may not even be able to see the site at all. The "someone" isn't me passive aggressively saying "you", it's me putting out a general call to help.

I was fully expecting some other seeing person would know the answer and do the work of explaining it to the class, so that someone in your position doesn't have to, but no one ever has.

For anyone else curious, it is supposed to be 3 white dots at the bottom right of the photo that only comes up if you mouse over it, and for me is a circle that ranges from grey to invisible, and if the options load at all, one of them is "update image description", which gives you a box to type in with some instruction. I personally just put plain text in the box and someone is probably going to tell me whether or not it worked.

Maybe part of my problem has been parts of tumblr refusing to load properly or at all for me, but if other people are unable to see the option at all, maybe staff could check on that and do something to at least optimize the page or prioritize it loading properly?

There was, up until just now, to the best of my knowledge, nowhere to actually input a description on this site other than just literally adding a text description under the image, which I figured would have to be denoted or 'tagged' a specific way if screen readers were going to catch it and realize it was a proper description of the image.

Part of the problem is that most people who don't use them do not know how screen readers work or how they are coded to function with the site, and the people requesting descriptions largely maybe don't know how visually hidden or -absent- the option to add alt text is, and I was trying to get this disconnect solved, because I figured that was the fastest rout to way more people adding proper alt text.

I literally have not seen that grey circle until today, but also sometimes the site just loads up blank for me for a half hour at a time and I was shadow banned for something like 3 years, so it might mostly be me. I just keep going "okay I have a banger of a description to add but WHERE" and I figured a lot of people were in the same boat as me.

Please forgive how horrifically this was recorded (the screen reader mutes itself in recordings, which made it entirely useless for this post, which required a second camera) but I wanted to show people what alt text Actually Does for screen readers because I think a lot more people would take the time to add it if they knew why.

This is how the default screen reader function built into my phone "reads" an image, one without alt text and one with.

(I can't add alt text description to videos, it seems, which feels a little ironic given the post.)

When the first image, without alt text, is selected by a screen reader, it just reads out "photo".

When the second image, with alt text, is selected, it reads out the alt text - in this case, "A blurry picture of a gray tabby cat sitting on a white carpeted floor.".

Being able to use alt text is far easier on screen readers because the image is a larger object to select - descriptions in plain text below an image are still helpful, but require enough vision to accurately select, and enough vision to know they're an image description to begin with.

So please, when possible, add alt text to photos, art, and screenshots you're uploading! A lot of phones can copy text from images now, which is how I add image IDs to other people's text heavy posts - there's really no reason to post a bunch of text heavy screencaps and not at least copy and paste the text into the alt text, and it makes a huge difference for accessibility.

Thank you! ^w^

[jimbleswrites]

Pantheon 2022

A/N: wow, it's been a hot second. i feel like i say that every time but it's the truth. between IRL issues, ADHD and depression kicking my ass, and my job changing my hours every week, i have had no time or energy to write. but in the words of my dad, "the world keeps spinning, so learn to roll." also apparently tumblr's line break is not working in rich text, and the html option isn't working either. so y'all are gonna have to scroll. shoutout to this hellsite.

Chapter 11: The Escape

I was meditating on my bed, simply thinking of options to leave. I had looked the room over for any options twice and found nothing. The cuff attached to the bed, while letting me reach the toilet and sink, was not long enough to reach the other walls or the door. The left cuff continued to beep, with no sign of stopping. I sighed a little, the silence making the time feel so slow. I wished I could reach out to Vida for some guidance.

“Yeah, I could do that.” Her chipper voice popped into my head.

OK, cool, Vida was talking to- wait, wait?

I opened my eyes, looking around to see no one in the cell. Yet I could have swore that-

“You did hear me. I’m just in your head.” Vida spoke clearly from nowhere.

I was confused. How is she-

“I’m a goddess, I can read minds and all that. I also keep tabs on you so you don’t get out of your league. Like you are now.” Vida giggled, more amused at the situation then I was.

I closed my eyes again. Having Vida to talk to again was nice. I needed to know where I was.

“Nice to talk to you too. You’re currently on a United Nations Sea platform, in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea.”

OK, so I'm somewhere on the sea. No problem, I'll just open a portal and… no, they could have cameras everywhere, I needed to make sure I was out of here before I could try for a portal. Maybe I could grab a boat and shove off.

“All they have are life rafts for emergencies. Not impossible, but not fast or discrete for an escape.” Vida chimed in. “Most personnel come in from airdrops or plane refuelings.”

So I could grab a plane instead? I don’t know how to fly a plane, and I doubt anyone here would help me escape. Maybe I could stowaway? That seemed like the safest choice. I looked up at the security camera in my room. The lens stared back at me. There wasn’t any way to sneak out that they wouldn’t see.

“You’re so focused on using aura for fighting, when you could do so much more.” Vida spoke, obviously hinting me into something. I looked closer at the camera’s base, noting a small wire that connected to the wall. The light on the camera blinked as I focused. A small golden sword formed next to the wire, out of the camera’s view. I was able to move the sword cautiously next to the wire, slowly cutting through it. As the wire finally cut in two, there was a small spark and the light on the camera stopped blinking. I finally had some privacy from my captors.

“Not bad, but still a weapon.” Vida sounded smug as she continued. “How about the cuffs next?” I looked down to my right cuff, the simple metal chain clicking as I lifted my hand. I formed another sword, only to find the metal tougher than the wire. Vida laughed a little, but I thought of something else. I formed my aura into an orb on my finger, and it sloshed around. It was similar to what I had done before, but not what I wanted. I focused on my vision, and the orb began to bubble, then spark, before becoming a small flame. I smiled as I moved my makeshift blowtorch to the chain, heating it until it dripped apart, freeing me. I quickly did the same to my left cuff, the beeping stopping as the melted cuff fell off me.

“Alright, hot stuff, well done.” Vida congratulated me. “But now you need to actually leave the base.”

I needed my stuff. I don’t suppose the goddess watching me would happen to know?

“I do happen to know!” Vida beamed. “Go down the hallway until the third door on the left, then check the locker in the back.”

I repeated my fire trick on the door’s lock, then slowly looked outside. There didn’t seem to be any guards at the moment, so I quickly walked to the door Vida described. The base’s cold gray walls didn’t do much to show where you were, but I found the room and looked inside. It was also empty, with several lockers and cases. I opened the door, found my locker, and got back everything except my phone. If only someone knew where it was…

“Yeah, yeah, hold on.” Vida was quiet for a moment. “There’s a research lab across the hall. They’re trying to crack it open with some program.”

I quickly changed into my clothes, then moved to the lab door. I looked inside to see someone hunched over a computer. I crouched out of view, and cracked the door a little to see if they’d notice. They didn’t even move, their back facing me as I fully entered the room. I now recognized him as Dr. Prunty that was running some program. I then noticed my phone plugged into the computer, putting two and two together. Now it was a question of how to get my phone. I moved to be fully out of view, when Dr. Prunty sighed loudly. He was checking his own phone and seemed to be annoyed by something.

“Of course he wants more firepower.” Dr. Prunty muttered to himself. He was busy tapping away on his phone and ignoring everything else. I focused my aura toward the cord connecting my phone to the computer, hoping to break it without being noticed. A small section of it glowed gold, before smoking a bit and snapping apart. The computer beeped in response, popping up with some error messages. Dr. Prunty groaned, seeing the cord broken, and began to turn. I came forward, grabbing him in a headlock and covering his mouth as soon as he saw me. I pulled us back down out of sight of the window.

“You aren’t going to scream if I take my hand away, are you?” I prompted. Dr. Prunty nodded, and I took my hand away, still holding him down.

“You’re insane! You think you can just walk away?” Dr. Prunty hissed. “We’re-”

“On a sea base with all the planes on a schedule, yeah yeah.” I cut him off.

Dr. Prunty looked surprised. “How did you know? Actually it doesn’t matter. I don’t think Commander Leblanc will hold back if he finds you again.” He wiggled a bit against me, but had no real way to break free. “Look, maybe if you answer some questions, we can make your accommodations better.”

I was a bit insulted by the offer, but it wasn’t like I was going to tell him anything anyway. “Listen, I’m getting off this rock, and I just need to know when the next plane comes in.”

“And if I don’t talk?” Dr. Prunty asked.

“Look, if you don’t tell me anything, then I just have to get the info from someone else. And I'd really prefer to not have a trail of bodies leading back to me.” It was a complete bluff but they already thought I was a criminal, so I decided to lean into it.

Dr. Prunty gulped. “There’s a shipment of food coming in about 20 minutes. Helipad 2.”

“See, that wasn’t that bad.” I squeezed my arm, knocking out the doctor. He’d be fine, but I needed him to stay hidden until I escaped. I went over to the computer, grabbing my phone, and began to look for any files on me. The computer was seemingly blank, but I made sure to melt the drives inside with my aura to make sure. Now I just needed to make my way to the helipad.

“Just follow my directions, Robert.” Vida began, and I set off to escape.

The route out was mostly uneventful. A few close calls, but I was able to get up to the Helipad with no one the wiser. I found a few crates I was hiding behind, and the shipment should be here in a few minutes. The main issue now was getting onto a plane while it was being unloaded. I heard some people shuffling around, and looked up to see a helicopter in the distance flying in. I laid in wait, hoping to get a window once the people were distracted. Suddenly, the alarms started going off, with red lights flashing and a blaring siren.

“SUBJECT PALADIN HAS ESCAPED! LOCK DOWN ALL RAFTS AND HANGERS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!” A voice yelled over the intercom. The helicopter slowed to a halt, hovering there. My exit was forced to stop, with the people at the pad awkwardly standing there. I needed to get that helicopter to land, or at least close enough to get on board. I looked around for something, anything to help. There were some crates, people staring at the copter, a small station with some controls to something. Maybe there would be a radio to tell the pilot to land? I began to move away from the crates, keeping myself near the wall. Luckily, the workers were just making small talk, likely more annoyed than concerned. I managed to get within reach of the panel, only for the doors to suddenly open. I dove behind the console, with it barely covering me from view as someone walked in. A guard in body armor entered, locking the door. He motioned the helicopter to land, and was slowly checking some crates on the other side. The helicopter lowered down, touching down while keeping the rotors spinning. The guard seemed preoccupied checking crates, so I decided to make my move.

I slowly moved into the open, quickly sneaking to the copter. The others on the platform were busy searching boxes, so moving around undetected was pretty easy. I hid myself behind some netting, keeping an eye on the main doors. The alarms kept blaring, as eventually the guards gave up, returning to normal posts.It was clear no one was going to leave until the alarm stopped, and that only happened if I was caught. Not an option.

“Just fly the helicopter out. It’ll be easy.” Vida popped back in my head. “I’ll give you the basics.”

This was a terrible idea. The moment that I started to fly away, I would probably be shot down. But I only had to get far enough away to portal back to Vida’s plane. Which meant not being in range of people seeing, then the helicopter could crash and I would be ‘lost at sea’.

“A D.B. Cooper plan? I like it.” Vida chuckled. “The engine is still running, so just grab the pilot’s chair and I'll start filling you in on how to fly.”

I moved forward, sneaking behind the pilot. The woman flying was busy looking at her phone, not even paying attention. I pulled the seat belt loose, scaring the pilot, and quickly pushed her out of the helicopter. She fell to the ground, as I sat in the seat. I was suddenly rocked with a flash of several images, diagrams and mechanical blueprints, like a migraine, but only for a moment.

“Congrats, you can fly it now.” Vida spoke. “Sorry for the headache.”

I looked at the panel, now recognizing the dials and instruments. Vida beaming all that info in my head was definitely not what I thought would happen, but that thought was cut short by the doors opening to reveal Commander Leblanc storming in. Our eyes locked, and his were full of rage. I started throttling, trying to lift off as soon as possible. The helicopter started to rise away, only for me to hear thudding behind me as I flew away.

“You’re not going to escape me!” Leblanc was yelling, grabbing the landing rail. I quickly gave the motor more power. I looked back, only to see several guards with guns taking shots as I cleared the base. I heard pings as bullets struck the copter, but I was now outside the landing pad. The helicopter swung as I tried to steer towards open water.

“Confirming Visual.” The radio buzzed to life, apparently tuned to the base’s channel. “The commander and the prisoner are heading North via helicopter. Holding fire until outside of base.”

Well, that was a relief, at least until Leblanc came over the same radio. “NO, FIRE NOW! THAT IS A DIRECT ORDER!” The order rang between the radio and the commander, echoing as I looked to see him still hanging on, trying to climb in.

There was a pause, as if the guard had paused to think about this, then the gunfire got louder. Gatling guns rang out, sending lines of bullets into the air. I managed to fly the copter to the edge of the sea platform, just in time to hear beeping going off. Something had been hit, and the helicopter was slowly losing power. The motor sputtered, trying to spin. I looked down to see the sea below. This was my chance. I set the helicopter into a nosedive, then kicked open the door. I tried to jump out, only to be grabbed by a metal hand.

Leblanc had a rage in his eyes, completely vacant of logic as he held me in the cockpit with him. I struggled against his grip, trying to break away, as he leaned in closer. “No more clever moves, no more escapes.” Leblanc breathed heavily, swaying as the helicopter dropped. I looked down to see the water coming up closer and closer. I realized he meant to have me crash with him.

“We’ll both die!” I tried to bargain with him, even if it would buy me a second to think.

“Then I’ll die happy, knowing I took you down.” Leblanc locked eyes with me, grip as tight as ever. The helicopter finally fell into the water, immediately taking in water. Leblanc had me pinned to the inside of the body, water quickly filling inside. I struggled against the metal, taking a breath as water enveloped the space. Leblanc and I fought each other as the wrecked copter sunk farther into the sea. The sea water stung my eyes as I tried to break free from his grip. He kept me in his reach, punching me as I tried to move. I started to feel faint, I needed to make a move. I focused behind Leblanc, with golden sparks spawning in response. A portal spawned into being, and I put my last strength into a push, tackling us both into somewhere new.

[akaluan]

Hey, that stuff about Google Docs you just shared would be VERY helpful to share with some people I know but do you happen to know of any sources I can link about it besides your post? (No worries if that is not possible, but my search attempts are probably not using the right keywords and I'm coming up blank.)

Good search terms are "Google documents canvas" and "Google doc canvas implementation" although you'll need to skip past mentions of Canvas The Product.

Here's an opinion piece by someone at Zapier about what Google's changed, in layman speak, and why it is (theoretically) a good idea. https://zapier.com/blog/google-docs-canvas-based-rendering/

Realistically I do somewhat agree, but also I will argue that there IS no way to entirely unify the way things display... If you're talking about using different browsers. Because Firefox renders canvas slightly different from how chrome does, and things will never one hundred percent agree. But different computers all using chrome? Yeah, things will render very close to identically.

On the other hand. This change broke 90% or more of BROWSER extensions (not add-ons, which are like extensions for just gdocs/Gmail/etc) that tried to interact with gdocs. Many that still work only work on chrome. Of those that do, many of THOSE only work on editable Google docs, even if they're just an accessibility extension to read websites aloud.

So most of the points I listed past number one are merely things I've found while working with the code itself. However! Here's one of the initial documents that Google released about the update to canvas:

https://workspaceupdates.googleblog.com/2021/05/Google-Docs-Canvas-Based-Rendering-Update.html?m=1

Note that they say that SUPPORTED assistive tech will be unaffected, which means tech implementations that they approve for use. Specifically, it requires getting access to the API, and also they're talking about Add Ons, not browser extensions, which need to access a different API. I work for a pretty large education based company, and we were denied our request to access specific features that would allow us to Just Work As Usual, so I had to work around their switch to canvas in order to enable our specific features in Google docs.

And no one say anything about Grammarly still working on gdocs in both Firefox and chrome. You know why? Because I figured out my work around trick from examining THEIR implementation. Which doesn't use any API access (which thus means no Google integration is required to use their software) and thus works on both editable and uneditable documents. (Okay, so Grammarly doesn't APPEAR to work on uneditable documents but that's just because the coders told it not to. After all, why make grammar suggestions on a document you can't edit?)

Most of my points (the rebuilding of the canvas, how often it happens, etc) are only visible when I add debugging statements in my specific code, which lets me see otherwise "invisible" interactions happening beneath the hood.

You can see the use of four canvas with your own eyes, though! And it's actually pretty fascinating to watch the html move. If you want to see that bit, in your browser of choice, navigate to a Google doc (not a spreadsheet, a document) of your choice, and open the Inspector

(Chrome and Firefox: press Ctrl+shift+i )

Now click on the element picker icon in the corner of the inspector panel that came up

(it looks like this:

And hover your mouse over the Google document you're viewing. You should see part of the page highlight a light blue. Aim for the page of the document (so where the text is) and you should see a popup that reads something like "canvas.kix-canvas-tile-content" which is what we're aiming for! Click to confirm, and look back over at the inspector window you opened in the first step. Make sure you're viewing Elements -- these are the raw html components of the page you're viewing.

This is an example of the element inspector panel on Chrome.

Now, you don't need to know tooooo much about html to follow what's next. Clicking on the canvas when in selection mode should have highlighted a line in the inspector panel that should start with something like "<canvas class="kix-canvas-tile-content"" that's the actual canvas that Google is drawing on to produce your text document.

Now, right above it should be another line that starts with "<div class="kix-page-paginated"" along with a little down arrow next to it. This is the containing element that holds the canvas in a proper place, and you should see several divs with kix-page-paginated as their class. Pay attention to these divs specifically. Now start slowly scrolling down the page and watch the inspector panel. Note how after a point there's a flash and the z-index tag on the div changes? That's Google rebuilding the canvas inside that div to be a different page. Google lists pages starting from index 0, so what we would call page 1 is actually z-index 0, but otherwise it's the same. If you hover your mouse over the html element in the inspector, you'll see the element's location on the screen -- do this with a page outside of view, and watch how when the index changes, the location the div points to changes too!

Again, this part of the changes really isn't a problem, it's just a Fascinating Implementation that amuses me to play with.

[jonogueirawrites]

Save him from himself.

Chapter 10

Summary:

Lilly has been overly emotional, and she decides to research why. And how.

Notes:

I wrote this chapter in July/August and researched the sunset time. Here is the website I used, just in case. https://sunrise.maplogs.com/new_orleans_la_usa.77.html

TW: because it is ‘spoilery’ it’s in the tags.

AO3

Excuses,

Although Lillian didn’t know her way around the place at all, she wasn’t worried about it since she could rely on the GPS to find her way back, so she turned on the radio on a local station to feel less lonely and allowed her eyes to focus on the street ahead of her.

She cruised through New Orleans and appreciated the sights. The small stores adorning the street making her feel at home. The people sitting outside their houses talking with their neighbors and the kids playing with each other despite the hour. The sunset behind the houses painting a beautiful view she made sure to commit to memory. She looked at the time on her phone, and the screen displayed 7:21pm.

In the rare moment the radio caught her attention, she heard the ad for a coffee shop, and the items on the menu made her mouth water. Putting the address on the GPS, she hoped to get there before they closed.

Arriving with time to spare and not to make the workers angry, she ordered pies for her and everyone back in the house. It was the least she could do since she had left so abruptly and in such a rude manner that she was sure she had disrespected them, not to mention how welcoming they had been since the moment they arrived.

She was about to leave the store when a man bumped into her on his way inside. His hair poked in all directions, and the dark circles by themselves told a sad tale. Lillian wanted to ask if there was something she could do to help the clearly distressed man. When she heard him ask for a specific pie and sigh, thankful when the answer was positive, she decided otherwise. From where she stood, she could see tears forming in his eyes, and she wondered what might have happened to make him feel so relieved because of a pie.

Closing the door behind her. She left the man to his problems and opted to focus on her own. With the pies in one hand, she reached for the car key in her pocket but let it fall to the ground. She was about to pick it up when the distressed man got it for her. With a smile on his face, he bid her farewell but seeing his humor change, she decided to sate her curiosity.

“Excuse me.” She waited for the man to turn her way. “I’m sorry, I’m just curious, and of course, you don’t need to answer, but is everything okay?” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder.

The man laughed and shook his head. “Everything is fine. At least now. My wife has been asking me for this pie for quite a while, and I kept forgetting to buy it. She sent me a text message today with a pie and crying emoji. I was almost home when I remembered and drove all the way back here.”

“Ah, I see.”

“You know what the complicated part is?” He smiled at her. “She hates this pie. Can’t even smell it.”

“Then why… why would you… I don’t get it.”

“You don’t have kids, do you?”

“Oh no. My lifestyle is not suitable for kids.”

“Then you have no idea of what a pregnancy craving is.” He bid her farewell before she could give him any reply. Still, even if she had never been through that, she knew better than to leave a pregnant woman with a craving waiting.

Smiling to herself, she got into the car and turned it on. She unlocked her phone and saw a message from Bucky, to which she replied immediately, explaining she was on her way back. Putting the address on the GPS, she followed its instructions and once again turned the radio on to be her company.

Lillian tried her best, but images of her and Bucky back at the cottage kept creeping up in her mind. Jazz playing in the background while they cooked together and snuggled on the couch…. But this time, there was something more. Someone else.

The cry of an imaginary small baby brought tears to her eyes, and she forced herself to park the car. She had thought about being a mom, she just wasn’t sure if she would be a good one. Going through all the pregnancy trials and holding something so small and fragile in her arms. Sure, she was responsible for many lives in her line of work, but none so intimately connected to her. The baby cried again in her mind, but it was her tears that soaked her t-shirt.

The pies’ smell was starting to get too much. Too delicious. She opened the chocolate one and sat there, eating it to her heart’s content.

She thought about the parents who had been taken from her and how her life would be different if they were still around. But the tears rolled thicker when she thought about Bucky holding a tiny little thing in his arms.

The message he had recorded for her on the day he was taken when a simple snap changed everything came to her mind. How could it not? She had played that message over and over as if it was the oxygen she needed to live. In it, Bucky mentioned wanting to start a family with her. A couple of kids.

That memory brought vivid images to her mind. Kids running around the house and being chased by a laughing Bucky. The proud dad calling his children to give their mom a tight hug. Calling their children. Bucky and hers. She sobbed over the pie and stuffed her mouth with it.

The screen lighting up the car caught her attention, and she noticed in horror that she had been parked by the side of the road for a good forty minutes. The pie on her lap almost all gone.

What was happening to her? Since when had she become so emotional over things that lived only in her deep thoughts? Most secret desires? She put the pie away and replied to Bucky’s new message saying she got delayed but was on her way. Turning the car on, she sighed and cursed herself.

The way back was absolute chaos. As much as she tried, she couldn’t stop crying. She asked herself over and over what was happening.

She waited for the traffic light to turn green when her alarm went off, reminding her to take her pill. Breathing lightly when she saw that it was the last one, she blamed it on her overly emotional state. Throwing the package on the seat, she drove away, only to step on the brakes a few meters ahead.

Lillian frantically searched her purse until she found what she was looking for. St John's wort ointment. She had never had an emotional breakdown like that, and surely the fish was just an oddity. She revisited the last few weeks just to make sure.

She read the packaging, but there was no information there. She grabbed her phone in a panic and dropped it on the car’s floor. After struggling for a bit, she recovered it from the depths of what she called hell. Typing the name of the ointment on the search engine, she had to stop for a moment before actually going through with it.

A myriad of things crossed her mind at once. Her relationship, if there was still any left, with Bucky the most prominent one. His refusal to talk to her. Her emotional situation. His emotional situation. What the future held for both. Their financial stability. Their jobs…

Breathing deeply to regain control of herself, she tapped the search button and the second it took to load the pages felt like ages. The first link stated that you shouldn’t take it while pregnant, which was not the case… well… The second subsequent links were all the same. None of them told her that it could lead to pregnancy, so she chose a different wording.

And there it was in bold letters.

St John's-wort could lower the efficiency of birth control pills.

Lilly stared at her phone. Her trembling fingers locked the screen. The radio started to give her a headache, and she sat there. Just sat there.

What was she going to do? The question popping non-stop into her mind.

The phone rang, and she saw a picture of her and Bucky on the screen. She remembered the day he had taken that one. They sat on the couch reading a book together when he decided to take it. With his phone in hands, he asked her for a kiss, and when she did, he turned his face, and she ended up kissing his cheek. His smile was one of his most beautiful ones.

Cleaning the tears and getting herself together, she answered it.

“Hey!” She opted for simple words.

“Hey, Lov-Lilly.” The way he corrected himself broke her. Torn her soul and shattered her heart. She muted the call and sobbed loudly. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to come to pick you up? Just let me know where you are, and I’m on my way. If there’s anyt-”

She cleaned her nose and unmuted the call. “I’m fine.” Ordering herself to calm down, she continued. “I had a setback, that’s all. I’ll explain when I get home.”

“Are you sure? I can-”

“I’m fine. See you in a bit.” And she hung up.

She cruised the streets looking for a drugstore but found none. It took her thirty more minutes to get home. The remaining of the chocolate pie thrown in a garbage can… not before she took another bite from it and cursed herself when she made a mess in the car.

Before entering the house, she made sure to look presentable, but it did not fool Bucky, who was all over her the minute she sat foot inside.

“Are you okay? Why were you crying?” His hands cupping her face.

“It’s nothing. Just some stupidity.”

“Lillian.” Her name on his lips like that, deepening her distress. “What happened?”

She placed the pies on the table, apologizing profusely. “I needed some air, and after thinking, I decided to buy some pies as an apology. I ended up dropping it in the car and making the mess.” She turned to Bucky to look into his eyes. “I will pay to have it cleaned. I promise, I-”

Bucky held her close. His arms squeezed her, and his nose found the crook of her neck. “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t care about pies or cars or apologies.” He cupped her face again and kissed her forehead. “Just… Don’t do that again, okay?”

“I promise.”

Bucky shook his head. “No promises.”

It was the first time after all that ordeal that she felt genuinely good. Her laughter left her mouth loudly. “No promises.”

“Good.” He breathed, and it seemed it was the first time he did. “You said you bought pies, though….”

Lillian punched his shoulder and smiled. How would she ever live without him?

They went to the kitchen, and Lilly heard Sam tease Bucky about her disappearance. They exchanged some jabs while Sarah and her set the table for them to eat.

Even though there was something hanging in the air during their late-night snack, none of them wanted to break the peacefulness of the moment. When they were done, Sarah offered to have the boys sleep with her while Bucky and Lilly took their room. Sam could take the couch. Bucky was the first to refuse, saying that he was used to sleeping on couches, and hers looked pretty comfortable. Lilly and Sam exchanged some looks and decided it was a good arrangement.

After her nightly routine was done, she went to bed with a wave on Bucky’s way. She tossed and turned. Her hand constantly on her stomach, and her mind playing what-ifs in her head. She looked at the time again, and although she felt it was almost dawn, it had barely passed the midnight mark.

Having had enough of that, she tiptoed her way to the living room and watched Bucky serenely sleeping for a little while before crawling her way onto the couch with him. As much as she tried not to wake him, her plans were crushed when he held the blanket up for her to snuggle close to him. His arms wrapped over her body, bringing her closer. No words were exchanged because none was needed.

Bucky buried his nose on the crown of her head, and Lilly rested her ear on his chest. Allowing his heartbeat to be her lullaby. His fingers making odd patterns on her skin, leaving a trail of more in their wake. Not being able to contain the uncertainty lacing her being, she cried silently.

“I’m here, Lilly.” Bucky placed soft kisses on her head. “Always here, Love.”

She didn’t reply. She cried until she fell asleep in his warm embrace.

~~~~~

Bucky woke up when the boys played with the shield in the living room. He watched them playing for a few minutes before calling at them and watching them scurry away.

Lilly chuckled softly at the scene, and Bucky kissed her head.

“How long have you been awake?”

She wanted to say that she had barely slept but opted for “Just a few minutes.” She looked up to see him smiling down at her. His eyes moved to the place the boys were a moment before, and she was sure his smile grew, in delight and size, making her own lips curl upwards. Only when he looked at the shield did his smile fall, and his embrace around her tightened. He looked at her again. In his eyes, a mixture of concern and determination.

One of his hands moved to cradle her face. “I love you.” He planted a warm kiss on her lips. His finger tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You have morning breath.” She didn’t resist the tease.

Bucky looked at her and shook his head. His chest rumbled with laughter, and she felt lighter. He pulled her up, and she straddled him. There, towering him, she observed his features. The growing beard, the morning hair, the sleep in his eyes. She observed him and fell in love even deeper.

Lilly cupped his face and kissed him. Deeply, lovingly, with abandon. “I love you too,” she whispered on his lips.

Lost in the two of them, they didn’t hear when Sam arrived. “Why am I not surprised?”

Lilly laughed, and Bucky closed his eyes. Looking at Sam, he waved his hand in his and Lilly’s direction. “Would you mind?” He shook his head, but his words had no bite. A grin was splattered on his face.

“You do know this is my house, right?”

“Technically, it’s your sister’s, so-”

“Bucky!” Lilly got off the couch, but Bucky pulled her back in.

“You sleep.” He tucked her in. “I bring food.”

“That sounds like a plan.” She yawned, closing her eyes.

When she opened them again, Sarah walked around the kitchen, and the smell of bacon permeated the air.

“Sorry I woke you.”

“No, please! Sorry, I overslept,” she apologized, already folding the blankets.

Sarah chuckled. The pots and pans singing in the kitchen. “You will need all the sleep you can get.” She finally looked at Lilly. In her eyes, something Lilly couldn’t name.

“Oh, I really hope we end this Flag Smashers business soon.” She leaned on the counter. “What can I do to help?”

“Why don’t you go wash up first?”

“Great idea.”

Going to the bathroom, Lilly watched the woman in the mirror. She delayed the thoughts, always avoiding them when they stubbornly tried to come up, but there, looking at her reflection, she couldn’t ignore them anymore.

Five years had passed. Bucky was the same as he had always been but her? Lilly had aged. The lines on her face proof enough of that. Her reflexes were slower, her stamina wasn’t the same, and it was diminishing each year. She had no powers, nothing special.

She looked at her reflection and wondered what would happen to her when she could no longer go where he went. Do what they did. Her hand landed on her belly, and she imagined a life with a child. How would she fight the world and go on suicide missions when there was a tiny being left behind? Someone that depended on her?

She splashed water over her face and shoved the thoughts away. When time came, she would have to have a serious conversation with Bucky. Her choices were her choices, and she didn’t want to impose on him a life she desperately longed for. Maybe their time apart didn’t need to end. He could go and be free. Wouldn’t have to stay behind because she was too old. He was a super soldier after all. One hundred and six years and he barely looked past his thirties. Maybe she should pack her things and leave him be….

No.

Bucky deserved more. He deserved to know that he could become a parent soon and then decide what was best for him. She would never take this choice from him.

She left the bathroom with a sad smile on her face. A bittersweet taste in her mouth.

“So…” Sarah started when she returned, “when are you telling him?”

Still not fully awake, Lilly looked at her with a confused look.

“I have two kids. I know the signs.”

“Oh… OH!” Instinctively her hand flew to her stomach. “Is it that obvious?”

Sarah laughed. It bounced on the walls and made Lilly blush. “Do you want me to be honest?”

Sighing, she only nodded.

“Not at all.” Sarah laughed again, and Lilly’s confusion only intensified. “Not all pregnancy is the same, and not all women feel the same.”

“So you were just-” Lilly nodded.

“Fishing.” They chuckled together.

“How about we don’t talk about fish?”

“Deal. So… when are you telling him? I mean, you don’t owe me any explanation. I’m just-”

“I’m not even sure I’m pregnant.” Lilly sighed. “It was just yesterday I kind of found out. There was this man in the shop, and he was super worried about his pregnant wife, one thing led to the other, and here I am.” She scoffed frustrated. “I have, well, had no symptoms. I was just a little over emotional and that one time that I threw up.”

“I see. I know things are not perfect between the two of you right now.” Sarah turned the stove off and started setting the table with Lilly’s help. “But he loves you, and you love him, and I’m sure you can talk this out. He seems to be the kind of man who would do anything you asked.”

“Anything but talking to me. Including me in his life.”

“Don’t say that, Lillian.”

“It’s true. He keeps things from me even after I asked him not to”

“I see. And you tell him everything, don’t you?”

“I try. The important things, yeah….” She trailed off, remembering how she kept her cooperation with the Dora Milaje a secret and now the suspected pregnancy. “Shit.”

“As I thought. Maybe he is shielding you from something. Maybe he is afraid of something.”

“I don’t know. I’m just… all over the place, I guess. Our relationship is complicated since the beginning, and then he was gone, and I waited for five years, and then he came back, and Steve is gone, and I was gone, And… and….”

Lilly sobbed. Openly and freely. All the worries and frustration out like a broken dam. Sarah didn’t interfere. She just held Lilly and allowed her to cry everything out.

“You two need to talk. The sooner, the better.”

“I know. I just need to get some control of my life again.”

“Don’t wait too long.”

“I won’t.”

“He will be a great dad. And you will be an amazing mom.” Sarah caressed her cheeks. “You just need to talk.”

Lilly nodded and breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in the last disorienting hours. She placed her hand on her belly and let a smile spread across her face.

I hope you liked.

Likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

[flurty]

my post now

today i'm going to teach you how to make a custom color text in tumblr, all it involves is knowing how html works.

my favorite color, truly favorite color, is not represented in the tumblr color set, so i have to go and make it myself whenever i want to use it.

first, i will type whatever text i wanna make the color, let's see.... i'll make "flurty is cool" into whatever color i want. not that one, but this one V

flurty is cool

woah it is now my favorite color.

if you click on this icon here, you'll surprise the post.

the post had no idea you were going to look at its details like that. just made it nervous. now this little box will open up. click here.

ok cool, you now have three options to choose. click HTML

woah what the fuck happened to my post. basically, you just opened up the post to look at its source code. it looks like i'm looking into the guts of a cute bot

well you are looking at the very source code of a very cute post. now some things won't show on here like polls, which are a server side coded thing that tumblr won't let you edit, but you can edit most other things. can't have you getting too crazy.

find the line that you want to make a pretty color, for instance, i see it here. make sure to click on every line as you scroll by, you wouldn't understand why this matters. but it matters to the post.

ok cool, now how do we make this line into MY FAVORITE COLOR?

very simple, first, you must understand how a computer understands what color text or anything should be. we need to get it instructions, in the form of hexadecimal.

open up any color picker website, find your favorite color, and look for its hexadecimal id.

i like to use google's. google search "color picker" and use its tool to pick your favorite color, ok? don't look at the stupid ai shit they're forcing in our faces, that bot ain't real. the one you have your hands in right now is real. pay attention to your post, find the color that makes you happiest.

it will give you the hexadecimal id for it. copy that thing and go back to the guts of that hot post you are playing with.

this is where we gotta take off the big person gloves and we gotta put our own code into this post. first, look into the eyes of the post you are about to stick your code in, make sure it wants this to happen, and always verbally ask, "can i?" or "may i?" if your smart with the language like i am.

then, once you have the post's permission, open up the first <p></p> tags of the line you want to make beautiful, and inside the tags, but in the tag itself, insert the following: <span style="color: #HEXHEX">...</span> and replace the HEXHEX with your HEX code!

It should look something like this...

NOTE: If you open a tag, make sure you close a tag. You can close a tag by typing a / in the tag itself. <p>...</p> <span>...</span>

Now when you look at the post, you should have your favorite color on your post!!!!

don't forget the after care. after inserting your code into the post, make sure to thank it and give it some love by pressing the heart icon. reblog it if you truly care about it. i know the post will be thinking about this for a long time.

thank you for attending my ted talk. i understand if you have to block me after reading this post. send me asks of the colors you put in your posts.

​

​

[tipsycad147]

Binding and Banishing 3

CRYSTAL AND CANDLE SPELL

Items needed: Basic altar set-up including: --salt and bowl of water, candle in color symbolic of need. Shield, ground, and center. Cast circle. Charge of the Goddess/God. Cleanse crystal by sprinkling with water, then with salt. Say the following: "This crystal is hereby cleansed and dedicated to the workings of the Goddess and God." With tip of crystal, scratch image, symbolic of need, on candle (i.e., a heart for love, a dollar sign for money, a fist for strength. As candle is scratched, visualize your need with crystal clarity as if it had already been manifested. Chant to raise power. Place candle in candleholder, set crystal near it, and light candle. Watch the burning flame and again strongly visualize and chant &/or drum. Allow the candle to burn down.

FOR A PEACEFUL HOME

Gather freshly cut parsley and place it in a pan of water. Let it soak for nine minutes, and then sprinkle the water throughout the house while visualizing a calm environment. Peace will be restored.

Hecate Binding Spell

Needed 1 Black Candle (my advice for potency is see planetary)

In Hecate's name we bind ____ to the flame May she bring nightmares, depression, and pain We cast ____ to the wind, that all know ____ shame May Hecate envelope ____ in the threefold law May all forget ____'s shame, their harm, their call May their ability to raise magic fall on deaf walls We join our energies fellow friends in the Craft May Hecate stop ___'s harm in the future, present and past Only when their deeds are reversed will this binding be undpne So Mote It Be!

"Stay Away" Binding Spell To be done on Saturday in the hour of Saturn (see planetary) during the Waning Moon A picture of the intended Black cloth Black thread or cord A picture of yourself White candles Place white candles about your alter. Cast the circle and try to relax your mind and concentrate on the work to be done. Take the picture of the intended in your hands and say:

"________, Stay away! You are not welcome, this I say! ________, Go away! You cannot harm in any way!"

Wrap the black cloth around the picture and bind it with the cord or thread and say:

"You who would harm, You who would maim, If you proceed, You'll face the same. With cloth and cord, Of darkest night, I've bound your deed, With shining light. You cannot harm, So stay away, I am protected, Both night and day."

With this, the spell is done. Put the package into the freezer until morning, and then throw it in the garbage somewhere away from you & your property. Leave without looking back. Carry the picture of yourself on your person, knowing that you are now protected from their harm & that they will bother you no more.

To Bind and/or Banish Malevolence

I've had tremendous luck with this spell at the dark moon, but it also works rather well during any waning moon. If the title of this spell seems ambiguous, it is supposed to be. Sometimes we don't quite know what is toxic in our lives, but we know enough to knowit's there. I usually speak and write out this spell, burning the paper and scattering the ashes to the wind.

All that would hurt me All that would bind me All that would hurt me Or be unkind to me... For all that I see, And all that I don't, For all that I will be, And all that I won't... To the flame I give this spell, Guard me safe from those unwell, And bring me to a clearer space, Within this human time and place. And by the power that is three, So as I will it, so mote it be.

I also usually braid a bracelet (or rope) of three relevant colors (one usually black) to wear or carry until the next full moon. By that time, the effects of the spell should be obvious. When that happens, just throw the rope away.

To Bind an Enemy (By Fiona Horn) Make a poppet to represent the person you wish to bind. Burn patchouli leaves and frankincense on a charcoal block. Light a black candle and pass the poppet through the incense smoke and say: Hecate, great goddess of life and death, I ask you to acknowledge that this creation of cloth be known as the flesh and blood of (name). Wrap the poppet tightly in red ribbon, paying close attention to the area you which to bind (the genitals of a rapist, the mouth of a slanderer, etc.) As you wrap, say: Between the worlds in Hecates eyes, you, (name), are bound powerless. In the eyes of the world, you are harmless. Imagine a heavy net made from white light descending upon and clinging to the poppet. Wrap the poppet in a piece of white cloth and bury it close to the persons house (or by the ocean and bid the sea to bless it).

Binding Spell

Write the full name of the person you wish to bind on a piece of paper. Then write down everything that this person does that you would like to stop. Wrap the piece of paper in aluminum foil and store it in the freezer. If you decide the spell is no longer necessary, toss the foil in a fire, saying: My wish is no more This person is free Undo this spell Without hurting thee.

To Bind A Trouble Maker

Best performed during the waning moon Place the cauldron between two black candles, with a third black candle opposite you on the far side of the altar. Write the names of the person/s you wish to bind on a small piece of parchment (if you dont know who it is, write all enemies). Sprinkle basil and elder flowers into the cauldron and say: Bubble, bubble, cauldron bubble, Burn the evil, destroy the trouble. Ignite the parchment from the central candle and drop it in the cauldron. Take up the wand and stir the air above the cauldron, saying: Darkness ended, control is done Light has come, my battles won. Take the ashes and the herbs outside and throw them up to the winds and the moon.

To Bind a Person To You Cut a small square of parchment paper. Using a quill and doves blood ink, write the persons full name at the top of the square and yours at the bottom of the square. When the ink has dried, turn the parchment face down and place upon it two white gender candles. Starting at the feet, wrap a red string around the figures a total of seven times, binding them together, until you get to the heads. Tuck or tie the string. Pour Bewitching Oil over the candles, make sure the string is soaked. As you concentrate on the person you want bound to you, light the candles and let them burn completely out. Take the remaining wax, string and paper and bury them in a pot of soil that you keep close to your bed. To undo the spell, simply dig it up.

HONEY BINDING TO BRING KINDNESS

Ingredients:

Small, clean, jar such as a baby food jar

Honey. Enough to fill the small jar

Paper. A small strip that will fit in the jar

Pen. To write the person(s) name on small strip of paper

Candle. To drip on jar lid for sealing

All products connected with bees have magical powers

(bees-wax, honey, pollen, royal jelly, propolis). It is

believed that any bee product can hold and deliver a magical

message or prayer.

Best to do this on a full moon but can be done during the

waxing. Write the name of the person or just men/women,

people in general on the strip of paper. Place the paper

inside the small jar. Now fill the jar with the honey. While

you do this concentrate on your intent. Visualize the person

or persons being kind to you the way you would like them to

be. Now close the jar with the lid and seal it with wax.

Place the jar on your altar or somewhere where it will be

untouched.

Every month re-charge the jar by placing it in the sun for a

day.

You'll want to bury the jar and refresh the spell with a new

jar about every 6 months or so.

© 1998 Witchwoman MACK ELIZABETH (witchwoman@home.com)

https://crimsonwolfe.tripod.com/id4.html

[bleachbleachbleach]

Fic: Away, Away

This was written for Day 13 of @hitsuhina-week! If you prefer, you can also read this on AO3. Which is my preference, because Tumblr keeps eating my spacing whether I use Rich Text or HTML so it looks absurd on here. >.>

Aftermath / Going on a Trip Together Hinamori Momo + Hitsugaya Toushirou Pre-Series

--

This will be the last time. 

(Whisper it, so he won't hear.)

--

Every spring, Junrinan finds its way to the western mountains. (The souls of Rukongai wander.) There is no grand procession: They disperse across the vast range, often alone and sometimes in twos. They are always careful not to cause disruption, because while one soul in a forest full of spirits generally isn't worth the effort, seven is a meal.

They are three. 

Soon, they will be two. Hinamori can't stop whispering her new name, hi na mo ri. It's early to be out here, but the snows were mild this year and new growth is already peeking from beneath the thick, rich leaf rot. She feels an affinity with this year's tender saplings, a feeling that grows hotter with every whispered repetition of her name. Her grandmother had given it to her, showed her how to write it. She'd studied her name harder than she had the exam.

Hinamori has an acceptance letter. In April, she is leaving. 

Hinamori nearly walks straight into a nettle spirit--the hair-eating kind--draped across the game path plain as day.

"Do you wanna be bald?" Toushirou grouses as he yanks her back just in time. "I guess it fits. You're acting like a blind old man." 

Hinamori blinks, brushes imagined hair from her face. It's the fifth time she's tried to walk straight through a spirit in as many days. 

"Studying is bad for your eyes," says Toushirou. He doesn't care for moony Hinamori. Momo had paid a lot more attention to what was in front of her. But she's Hinamori now. At least, that's the only name she'll write, dragging her thin stick through the dirt outside the house. So that's what he calls her.

Toushirou squeezes through a bumble of pot-bellied mushroom spirits and Hinamori follows him, stepping carefully into his tracks.

"You'll need to keep reading even when I'm not around. It'll go if you don't practice," she says.

Toushirou makes a noncommittal sound.

"I'll send you letters full of kanji and quiz you on them when I visit." I'll learn how to write them pretty, she promises, just like Baachan does.

"Will you write me back?" she asks.

"Probably not."

This hurts her. But Toushirou plans to go the rest of his life without writing a single thing. It's not personal.

"Why would I need to tell you what happens in Junrinan?" he says. "You already know."

--

And if I forget?

--

Life in Junrinan doesn't change. That's what Toushirou was promised. The winters are quiet and slow, and in spring they go to the mountains. Summers are for farming, and autumns for harvest. Then winters are quiet and slow again.

Spring passes with bracken and angelica in hand. It is counted in the spirals of ferns as their number grows in the baskets. Some are dried; some are steeped. Mostly, they are sold. Many of the men in Junrinan spend springtime waking before dawn to sprint to the mountain, forage the lowlands, and return to the village for evening revelries, but Toushirou and Hinamori and their grandmother have always spent the whole of the season between the trees. The mountains prefer it when you stay. 

This will be true no matter how long Hinamori is gone.

April 12th through July 20th, then our first break, she says, scratching numbers in the dirt. But Junrinan doesn't have dates the way the Academy does. She draws the way the trees will change. The change happens in a long straight line, and beyond July 20th there is an emptiness rather than a repetition. How do you draw an unwritten future?

Hinamori writes her name again.

--

In the spring, everything is full: Toushirou enjoys the wet green of it, the late snows and vernal flooding. The water flows down from the mountains ice cold and the forests are loud and thick with spirits.

The spirits have no names that are written and no faces that have ever stayed the same, unremembered but immemorial. They are loud. Most of them respect the borders of his body. They brush against his legs with thick wet fur or scrape his cheek with leathery wings. They coil around his throat, treating him like a tree or rock. Some of them are trees and rocks. They are the mountains and forest, just like the wandering souls of Junrinan. They all belong here, more or less.

Toushirou can see most of them. When the blurry ones pass through you, it's feverishly unpleasant for the split-second it happens and then is nothing at all. The blurry ones, Toushirou figures, aren't actually in this forest. They are like shadows at sunset, cast long and far from their bodies. Their true bodies roam a different world entirely.

That's what Hinamori wants to do. 

Hinamori used to clamor for shinigami stories any time one of them passed through town. She'd been told one time that all travelers carried stories and now expected it.

The shinigami never expected her. Unless commerce was involved they didn't tend to acknowledge souls, or even look at them. So they always seemed surprised by Hinamori, like it hadn't occurred to them that they'd meet a real, full person out here. Which is fair enough, Toushirou grudgingly allows--there are plenty of souls in Junrinan so old and staid they cannot move, nor speak. (Don't touch them. It's unlucky.)

We don't talk about those.

The shinigami talk story: The story of black dye. The story of a tall bathhouse. The story of grilled meat on sticks. The story of the time they saw a noble. The story of a big fish. The story of a bigger fish. The story of the bullet train. The story of my sister, who isn't very interesting but is the only thing that comes to mind right now sorry. The story of 19th seats should be paid more. The story of the soul who wanted a story. 

Almost none of the stories are about death.

"Little girls shouldn't go into those mountains," one shinigami once said, which is as close as a story ever came to it. "Nasty stuff in there. They're called Hollows, you know. Real bad guys."

The shinigami patted the sword at his hip. He'd just told Hinamori a story about the third son of a lesser noble whom everyone loved and thought deserved better than the shadows of his elder brothers. And how preposterous is it, really, that he should have to prove himself when his brothers never did? Pushed out here into the boonies, seeking honor and fame. He really feels for the guy. Don't you? Don't you?

"You seem to know a lot about 'this guy,'" Toushirou offered.

"I'm a master storyteller," said the shinigami.

I've killed a Hollow before, you know, boasted the master storyteller. He'd led a unit of twelve men into those mountains out there, which were so quiet you could hear your own heart beating. When you can hear your terror--that's when you're on the cusp of valor. His eyes lit up. I was the one who cut the mask, he said.

Twelve is obviously far too many (seven is a meal), and those mountains have never been quiet. Toushirou didn't think he'd really been.

In the spring, though, there's a dark scar where once there'd been a copse of trees. Shattered branches and burned ground. His grandmother says it smells like Hollow. 

"They see things differently," his grandmother half-explains, of the shinigami and their Hollows and the silence of their mountains. Of course this would seem a different place to them.

"They're idiots," says Toushirou, though suddenly he's not sure. The scar is hair-raising, and his stomach roils. Maybe they really shouldn't be out in the woods.

"The shinigami know more than you," says Hinamori, taking his hand in hers. She grips it tightly, reassuring, or maybe annoyed. Both. She has a lot of school spirit for someone who hasn't even been yet.

But she doesn't let go of his hand, even after they've returned to the cover of the live trees, kitsune fire nestled in the brambles at their feet.

Toushirou makes the mistake of noticing a spirit that tends to linger just out of sight. It feeds on your instinct to look, and it grows higher and higher the more you crane your neck, so sure you'll be able to sneak a glimpse of it. By the time you realize the trick, you've always been had. It's very annoying.

--

This will be the last time.

(Scream it.)

--

"It's so dark out here," says Hinamori, in spite of the kitsune and all the rest. Lots of spirits glow. She is still holding his hand.

Toushirou thinks of the small lamp Hinamori had bought to study by, the wild shadows it cast on the interior walls and the way it had made all hours bright. He thinks of all the hours she hadn't slept. All because some shinigami had told her a story about a school. 

Anything would seem dark by comparison. He can't remember the last time she hadn't had her lamp on when he went to bed.

Hinamori is going to snap the bones in his hand. He yelps. Tears prick in his eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

She doesn't let go, and then she doesn't let go.

"It's so quiet," she says faintly. Her free hand wavers over her heart protectively.

It's so dark. It's so quiet. Quiet enough to hear your terror.

Except it's not. It's not dark.

It's not quiet.

The forest is full, air thick with chirrups and buzzing, screeching, hooting, chittering. Bodies clack and bones shudder. Reeds whistle and something large makes a whomping, resonating tone. Foxfire hisses as it makes sparks, throws phosphorous motes that dance high above. A heartbeat glow marches up the ridged spine of a lizard spirit. The forest is as it has always been.

Toushirou's eyes widen. 

"You can't hear them anymore."

To Hinamori, it is all darkness and silence. 

She sinks to the ground, burying her head in her knees as though to hide from the quiet. From the black. She drops his hand.

"Momo--"

She shakes her head. She opens her hands to the sky like she's waiting for a bird to land. For a split second, a small warm flame billows from her palms. 

Then the entire forest catches.

The thought had been innocent enough--to be her own light in the darkness, conquer her fear. But the forest only hears the conquering. It's the kitsune who don't take kindly to Hinamori's light. Their fire screeches up and outward and then all the spirits are in frenzy. A meal! scream some; and others, a threat! A danger to be expunged. A strange thing not of this forest, these mountains.

Outsider! the world around them hisses. Away.

away, away

Hinamori screams as the flames leap forward--the claws, the vines, the terrors and all in between. She throws herself in front of Toushirou. 

Toushirou can't find his voice at all. The wide whites of his eyes feel the propulsive gust of the forest coming down on them. On Hinamori. No! he can't shout, cold fear coiling over his frozen legs and pricking at his shoulder blades. Something serpentine rushes past him and he's on the ground. His head smacks hard against a writhing tree root and he tastes bile, feels nothing. 

Hears everything.

away

When he wakes, snow is falling, wet and sloppy. Kitsune are nibbling at the singed edges of a hanafuda. Hinamori is in her grandmother's arms. She's crying.

--

Before Hinamori started studying, with her bright lamp and her long nights and her feverish poetry scratched into the ground, before the hunger came, she'd woken one morning to a futon streaked with her blood. Her grandmother said that this was womanhood.

"The tea will stop the bleeding," she assured a tearful Hinamori as they scrubbed at her futon, pinking the waters. Toushirou beat at the stain with his feet, splashing everywhere.

"You don't have to touch it," Hinamori had said quietly, her eyes fixed on the water. "It's my mess."

"Baachan said I have to help," Toushirou objected. "Besides, am I supposed to just sit here and watch you bleed?"

--

Just one last time.

--

Hinamori isn't hurt, but she is in pain. The forest doesn't want her anymore. (She is leaving.)

"The forest sees them differently," his grandmother says, the other half of her earlier explanation. "Them," meaning shinigami. "Them," meaning Hinamori, now.

Shinigami see and are seen differently. They belong differently. Toushirou had only ever distinguished them by their black clothes, and sometimes their attitude. But his grandmother talks about reiryoku, about reiatsu, about the realms the shinigami travel through and the spirits they are blind to. The spirits that belong to different worlds than theirs, even when they're side by side. Some worlds are bound to one another, tied by fate and duty; others are repelled.

As Hinamori's reiatsu blossomed with her womanhood, slowly folding outward past her skin, beyond her body, her worlds were chosen for her. Like the bleeding, there's a tea to help this, too, but it's not the same. 

There is no going back.

"What're you looking at," Toushirou scowls at her. He's not sure what to do with her pain. There's nothing he can do for her pain. But she's looking at him differently, a little less like Hinamori and a little more like the rest of Junrinan does, and that scares him.

She asks him if he'd felt anything. Something cold.

She's asked him before. Every day since the incident, she's asked him.

His answer is always the same. No. Just fear.

He should be helping his grandmother. They're here in the forest for a reason, and that hasn't changed; they have foraging to do. But he doesn't want to leave Hinamori alone. 

"Don't be afraid of it, Shiro-chan," says Hinamori. Hinamori, who's now afraid of the dark.

Hinamori, who is leaving.

--

She doesn't have a choice. When her power comes into her she knows there is only one place she can go. It's a place she has always wanted to go. (She has always wanted to go places.) But now she has to.

She smiles. 

If she is going to go, she's going to fly. She will love, and yearn, and cry. She will give all of herself to the future before her, even when it means that precious things can be only memory. If there is something Hinamori leaves in him when she goes, it's flight. 

Someday, Toushirou will remember to remember that.

--

"Will you write me?" she asks.

--

--

(You will be written.)

--

She returns for the summer, then is gone again. Winter, then gone again. But she doesn't come home for the spring. They'll be going to the realm of the living. They will fight Hollows, just like the Gotei 13. She explains the meaning and stroke order of the characters, go tei,  though she doesn't explain what the Gotei 13 actually is. That part must already seem obvious to her. Shinigami stuff. That's all Toushirou will ever need to know. Seems pretentious.

When Junrinan returns to the mountains this year, Toushirou and his grandmother stay behind. "It's dangerous," she says. She squeezes his shoulders.

It's dangerous now. 

There is no going back.

Junrinan may not change, but life does, and by the second summer, Hinamori has mostly forgotten the shapes of the forest spirits. Toushirou is forgetting them, too. 

The difference is, Hinamori has found replacements. She talks about incantations and sword stances, friendships and histories. She has been to the realm of the living. It's only been a year, and already they have nothing in common but their memories, ever-receding. 

Sometimes she wakes up screaming. She doesn't say why.

--

Toushirou dreams of a chill ripping through him. He dreams of a place where there are no mountains as far as the eye can see.

--

He wakes to Hinamori.

[seacottons]

Silent Song of the Sea

Yeosang’s lured and drowned many humans in the sea with his captivating voice. Fortunately, Wooyoung was deaf.

pairings: yeosang x wooyoung, san x reader

wc: 24k+

genre: siren!au, medieval times, royalty!au

warnings: supernatural beings, disabilities, language, blood, angst, gore, fluff, graphic violence, minor character death, domestic abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, implications of suicide, emotional trauma, mental health issues, unprotected sex, crazy reader(?), shiny yeosang

there was a problem with the html, so i had to reupload this. : (

You were twelve years of age when news broke out in your town of a boy who washed up on shore, along with a broken and tattered rescue boat. Chowing down on your breakfast in the dining hall amongst the other orphans, you overheard a few of the workers speaking about the young boy who spent days in the hospital, the town wondering where he came from. It was later that afternoon, when you were huddled with the rest of the other children in the yard that the director bought the young boy to introduce him to everyone. You struggled to peek from the taller children to catch a glimpse of the male, but you were shoved back slightly, the boys in front of you sneering, “Watch it, pipsqueak.”

Wooyoung was twelve years of age when he witnessed a young, tiny, frail child squabbling with a pair of boys. Gasps broke out within the group of children as a fist flew, followed by the crying of one of the young children. Wooyoung’s curious eyes never left your form as you were forcibly dragged inside by your ear, your fist smeared with the boy’s blood. You appeared to be shouting and stomping your feet in retaliation as you were dragged into the housing facility.

It was later that week when you were walking down the hall back to the children’s living space, when you noticed a group of four children surrounding the new kid, who huddled against the wall, beads of tears pooling in his eyes. “Why don’t you talk!” the tallest of the bunch growls in frustration, “You’re no fun at all!”

“Maybe he’s just stupid?” another girl quips, flicking her forefinger against Wooyoung’s forehead, sending the four into a pit of laughter and teasing. A wet squelch broke the train of laughter, and Wooyoung’s jaw dropped at the sight of the opened closet, brooms scattered onto the tiled floor, and you thrusting the wet, dripping mop into one of the children’s faces. Chaos ensued; a squeal of protest from one of the girls, loud footsteps, and bickering filled your ears. “(Y/n)! What do you think you’re doing!?” a worker tugged the mop out of your grasp, tugging you up with an arm securely fastened onto your tummy. You twisted in her hold, palms jutting out against her jaw in protest as you struggled to escape her grip.

“They were bullying Wooyoung!” you cried, and the four kids could only cower and deny your claims, their eyes flashing with fear, “Yes, you were! He’s crying! You said he was stupid!”

The worker stilled, and her eyes narrowed at the four children. A sigh escaped her as she settled you down, a stern expression painting her features, “For once, I think I’ll let you go. As for you four, to the director’s office. Now.” 

You laughed smugly at the sight of the four trudging begrudgingly behind the woman, and you gasped in realization when you remembered the young boy. When your head snapped in his direction, he flinched, eyes wary and hands hurriedly reaching up to wipe his tears away. 

“Y’know, you should really learn how to fight back,” you started, “They deserve a broken tooth or two.” He stared back at you, eyes flickering nervously as he fidgeted in place. You frowned, trying again, “Are you scared of them?  I mean, Minjae is ugly— I would be scared of him too.” The boy’s gaze  mirrored that of the gaping fish that stared at you from their tank in the director’s office. 

You quirked a brow, arms crossing in front of your chest, “Okay. You don’t have to fight. I’ll fight for you. Just say my name, and I’ll be there. I’m (y/n).” Wooyoung’s hesitant hands reached up point two fingers at you, and he shook his head while cupping his hands around the shells of his ears. Suddenly, you understood, face leaning uncomfortably close to his as your jaw dropped, “You can’t hear me!?” You understood when his hands made a motion, your brows raising up in curiosity, “Oh, you use sign language? I don’t really know that. I can draw for you, though. Come on, I’ll show you!”

You were permitted to walk around town for a few hours every day before dinner, and the first place you wanted to visit was the library, much to Wooyoung’s confusion, “My friend, San, owns this library! I mean- his mom, but I’m pretty sure they have a sign language book here we can borrow! San taught me how to write and read, y’know. Maybe we can find a book on how to find your memories too! Oh- wait.. I forgot, sorry. You can’t hear me,” You attempted to use hand signals to display your words, but Wooyoung only chuckled at your failed attempt. You swiftly pulled out your tattered sketchbook, and after a few messy, stick figure drawings, he nodded in acknowledgment. You were met with the sight of San helping his mother place a few books in the high shelves of the library, you bellowed out his name loudly, startling both him and his mother. The woman only giggled underneath her breath whilst her son was quick to shush you with a stern glare, “(Y/n)! You’re in a library!” His gaze suddenly drifted the boy behind you, who wore a similar outfit to your own, freezing immediately and grumbling lowly, “Why are you with one of the orphan boys? I thought you said they’re all gross?” His mother scolded him quietly for the choice of his words, and sent her a pout in return, “Stop embarrassing me in front of my friend!”

You quickly explained to both of them Wooyoung’s lack of memories and situation, and and how you insisted on learning sign language to communicate with him, not noticing San’s eyes narrowing in on the nervous lavender haired boy. San’s mother nodded, smiling and reaching over to ruffle your hair. You caught a glimpse of purple and blue marks underneath the sleeve of her shirt as she told you to wait while she searched for the books you needed. A faint speck of purple was also seen on San’s tummy as he reached up to gently push a book back in place.

“We’re not partners in crime anymore if you’re going to replace me,” San grumbled, fingers idly tracing the spines of the books to his right. “He’s not replacing you, dummy,” you cried defensively, tugging Wooyoung by the wrist and startling him, “He’s going to join us. We can even let him in on our secret.”

San’s eyes rounded comically, before they narrowed, finger jutting out in accusation, “You wouldn’t. We agreed it’ll just be us two taking over the world.” “But he probably wants to go on adventures too,” you offered, “Please? We’ll be like the three muskrats!”

“I’m not letting anyone join our pirate club, no,” he crossed his arms, voice firm and head tilting to the side in protest, “And it’s musketeers, not muskrats, you bum.”

San’s mother returned with a stack of books for you, explaining everything you needed to know. She tugged on your cheek, laughing brightly at the sound of your protest as you shyly swatted it away, “It’s very mature and thoughtful of you for doing this, (y/n). You can come here every day to practice with San. He’ll make time to learn with you.”

“Learn? I never agreed to have extra lessons!” It was later that week that the town of Aurora held a coming-of-age ceremony for the young prince on a Friday night. He was a few years older than you, and you’ve caught glimpses of him every so often when you hung out with San in town. 

Wooyoung, San, and you dressed appropriately, with your town’s traditional garbs. Mrs. Choi, bless her soul, took the three of you shopping beforehand, explaining how today was a very important day for the town and the royal family. San appeared miffed at his slicked back hair, and Wooyoung appeared to enjoy to the texture of the garments as his hands wouldn’t stop rubbing the silky, colorful material, fingers tracing the numerous embroidered floral patterns on the cuffs of his sleeves.

Mrs. Choi left the three of you to walk about, only if you promised you wouldn’t get into trouble. With a bag of silver coins, you three tromped between the crowds, visiting different booths to ogle at the treats displayed. The town was illuminated with an array of colorful lights hung from building to building. Signs and images of the young prince were displayed on every wall, pole, and building. As you munched on your roasted corn, guards of the royal family barked at the crowd to make space for the carriages and other matching guards to pass through. San tugged your sleeve and pointed to the golden palanquin held by four, large guards, the maroon velvet curtains tied to the corners, exposing the young boy sitting peacefully inside. He smiled at the crowd, turning left and right to wave as the guards marched in between the two parallel lines of people.

Whilst San was attempting to remember the hand signs to explain to Wooyoung was happening, you squinted, standing up on your tip-toes to have a better look at the prince. You clambered up on a wooden box, smiling in satisfaction at the better view, before peeking down at the two boys, “Why is the prince wearing such an ugly coat? It looks weird.”

“Watch your mouth, kid.” “That coat is the skin of a siren. It is a symbol of honor and bravery, brat.”

San paled at the harsh words, glancing nervously at the glares of the nearby townspeople, before swatting at your calf with a harsh whisper, “Moron, you can’t say things like that about the royals in public! That coat is tradition for the royal family!” Rolling your eyes at his exasperated tone, you offered a hand to Wooyoung, motioning him to stand with you to get a better view of the all the action. San attempted to follow suit, huffing in anger when he found no space for him to stand. Reaching for the pole beside him, he swiftly shimmied himself up, silently thanking the swordsmanship classes he was forced to partake in.

The prince’s eyes examined almost every face in the crowd. He met yours, and despite hating his attire, you couldn’t help but blush at the piercing gaze. You could’ve sworn his eyes widened at the boy beside you, but you didn’t have time to ponder as Wooyoung signed for you that he was hungry. You paused, eyes squinting in thought, before recognition flashed in your mind.

You nodded, pointing to his belly, to which he nodded in agreement. You dragged a reluctant San and a happy Wooyoung through the crowd, unaware of a pair of eyes lingering on your three forms.

Two months later, San began finally warming up to Wooyoung, much to your pleasure. To finally welcome the newest addition to your ‘Pirate Adventure Club’, he presented three twine bracelets, all with one cowrie shell intertwined in the middle,”Pirates give these to their friends, so they’ll never be apart no matter what.” “I don’t remember that in the pirate guidebook,” you mumbled, blinking at the boy.

“I made it up,” he grumbled bashfully, helping Wooyoung tie the twine on his wrist, “Don’t tell Wooyoung I said that, or else he won’t think I’m cool anymore.”

At fifteen years of age, both San and yourself became proficient at sign language, so much so that sometimes you would often find yourself teasing him with foul signs rather than doing so verbally. He would shove you away, red ears and furrowed brows as Wooyoung laughed beside him, “Stop polluting Wooyoung’s head with that nonsense!”

The three of you became infamous in town. The Troublesome Trio.

When San first informed you about the given title, you cackled, asking who in their right mind came up with that ridiculous name. He shrugged as the three of you walked within the town’s square, Wooyoung quietly observing the pigeons huddled near the center fountain, “You're the one who always picks fights, and Wooyoung and I have to always save your ass, so maybe that’s why.”

San insisted on paying a visit to one of the small antique shops in town, promising to find rare trinkets owned by pirates that washed up on Aurora’s shores. The town was still bustling even in the evening, young kids chasing each other around the neighborhood alleys, vendors charming passersby with their pristinely washed produce, mountains of different colored spices, dry fruits and nuts. Other merchants were determined to attract arrays of customers by displaying the colorful, locally caught fish, eel, and crustaceans on beds of ice. Cats sat idle in every corner, their big eyes fixated on the fresh fish.

 Dry herbs hung from many of the tea shops, and vibrant fabrics blew gently with the soft breeze from the textile shops. A young man carried around baskets of fresh bottled milk, whilst another prepared slabs of butter and goat cheese for the market-goers, charming the people past with his smiles and beautiful notes, the seagulls crying overhead joining in the melody.

“Hey, guys. Look! Isn’t that Pipsqueak and Stupid?”

You furrowed your brows, lips pursing in an attempt to bottle your anger. You knew that obnoxious voice anywhere, and it was a surprise that a boy with a disgusting attitude like him found a home with a willing family. You hoped it was the last you would see him three years ago, but there he was, sitting on a barrel, legs spread and a cocky smirk on his face as he pointed to you, along with two others you recognized from the orphanage. You can tell from the way San’s shoulders stiffened that he intact did hear, eyes still glued ahead of him as he led the way to the merchant’s shop. “Hey! Is your boyfriend still too stupid to attend school?” Sometimes, you were grateful that Wooyoung was deaf, because you knew words like that would crush him. Despite lacking the sense of hearing, he picked up on skills much faster than San and yourself combined. San’s mother helped you learn math, and you quickly learned to hate it. Wooyoung, however excelled at such a pace that it left even San’s mother surprised. San also taught him techniques he learned during his swordsmanship classes, and now, not only were the two taller than you, but broader as well.

“I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me!” A rock pelted against Wooyoung’s neck, startling him. San’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. Your eyes burned with disbelief at the sight of the smirking boy, who proudly adjusted his school uniform’s tie, silently bragging about how privileged he became after being adopted by one of the wealthier families in town.

Your hands grasped one of the thin wooden sticks of the fruit stalls beside you, the owner barking at you in protest, stuck behind the stand dealing with a few confused customers. San’s hands flew to grasp your elbow, a concerned Wooyoung gazing at you from behind him in confusion, “(Y/n)! Don't! He’s not worth it!” he insisted.

“Let me,” you spat, tugging your arm away and stomping towards the taller male, “I’ll stake him like the squealing pig he is.”

The three boys hunched over in laughter at your empty threat, nudging each other and surrounding you threateningly. Minjae threw his backpack to the side, hands reaching up to crack his knuckles, “I don’t hit kids, but since all you are is an angry demon no one wants, I don’t think anyone will mind me giving you a bruise or two. Maybe I should knock Stupid’s head too. He’ll probably start hearing afterwards, yeah?”

San protested, yelling out your name and sprinting to defend you, but before he was halfway across the cobblestone path, you threw the wooden stake aside, relying on your hands to pulverize the taller male in front of you. He tugged at your hair as you tackled him down, hands tugging at his tie, and aiming a punch at his nose, the sound of gravel crunching beneath your wrestling forms. The two of you rolled repeatedly on the cobblestones, feet kicking and fists flying, “You piece of shit, how dare you say those things about Wooyoung! I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to the seagulls!”

Vendors and customers paused to watch the squabble, kids pointing and ushering their parents to see the commotion. You shoved Minjae onto one of the glass doors of a shop, the raised threshold clipping his ankle, leading to fall backwards into the glass. He growled, head snapping up to meet the eyes of his two friends, “Stop staring and help me out, cowards!”

Their faces grew pale at the sight behind the cracked glass doors, and after sharing a look, they nodded and hastily retreated. A look of disbelief washed over Minjae’s face, and your snicker only boiled his anger even further. With a growl, he tackled you down harshly onto the floor, your eyes widening at the sudden lunge. You didn’t even care at the taste of blood on your busted lip as you struck him in between the legs, eyes furious as you shoved him off, hands reaching up to wipe at your mouth,“Can’t handle a pipsqueak by yoursel—”

“What’s going on here?” Your eyes flickered to well polished shoes behind Minjae’s figure, traveling up to meet the eyes of the prince, crown shining in display, golden coat and pristine white leather sparkling underneath the golden hours of the evening. His face grew even more handsome since the last you’ve seen him, jaw becoming sharper, and eyes more mature. Behind him stood a taller male, hair as striking and vibrant as the crushed geranium flowers Mrs. Choi uses as rouge, “The Commander won’t be happy to hear about this, will he, Minjae?”

Minjae’s eyes widened in recognition, scrambling up to grab at his fallen backpack, his form tripping as he scurried off in fear. You stared at the gloved hand offered to you, and you gladly accepted it, the older male pulling you up onto your feet, “Ah, aren’t you that trio..”

His eyes trailed from your small stature to San and Wooyoung, his brown eyes lingering on the latter a bit longer. You dusted your attire, snorting at the sight of your panic stricken friends, “Yep. Just getting rid of rats on your streets, Hongjoong,” while not personally knowing the member of the royal family, you found comfort in the fact he wasn’t that much older than you and your friends. Surely, he’s just like other kids beneath the silk, leather, golden garments and dazzling jewelry.

The red-haired bodyguard, who didn’t seem that much older than you and your friends, glowered with piercing eyes at your smaller frame, disbelief clouding his eyes at the insolent behavior. 

San slapped his forehead, exasperation lacing his voice as he shouted in your ear, “He’s royalty! You can’t just call Prince Hongjoong by his name, (y/n)-”

Hongjoong lifted a palm, shaking his head, a gentle smile gracing his features, “That is quite alright. I don’t mind. Mingi here calls me Hongjoong, as well. It makes me feel.. ah, young, perhaps? Right, Mingi?” he swiveled his head slightly to eye the stoic guard.

“You’re not even that old, though,” you began, earning you a glare from both San and the prince’s bodyguard at your informal tone. Wooyoung awkwardly held onto your fallen hat, eyes trained on the prince’s mouth in order to attempt to read his lips.

“Ah, yes. You are correct,” Hongjoong simpered, white hair delicately styled and falling into his eyes as he spoke, “but when you have princely duties, it makes you forget that you are still so young.”

There was a hint of sorrow in his voice that you detected, one so subtle and faint like the salty smell of the ocean encasing your town. The smile he wore didn’t exactly reach his eyes, his lips stretching too wide for it to be out of genuine content. Your bloody lips parted, eyes wide as you spoke, softly this time, “You’re still a kid before you’re a prince. You should live a little and have fun every once in a while.”

He offered you a white handkerchief at the glimpse of blood dribbling down your chin, chuckling at the sight of your stunned and flushed expression at the sweet gesture, “You have a point, but maybe I will attempt something other than fighting.. rats in the street.”

His smile sent your face and neck flushing in embarrassment, and you were quick to wave him goodbye as he was pulled away by a few of his guards. Watching the carriage disappear, you failed to notice San glowering at you beside you as you ogled at the disappearing horses, “(Y/n), you can’t just keep picking fights like that. Must you always seek trouble?”

“He asked for it.”

‘(Y/n) is a bad influence. Don’t get any ideas, please,’ He signed to an amused looking Wooyoung.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t.

Your brows furrowed, watching the two exchange words silently, your arms crossing in annoyance.

‘Assholes.’

“(Y/n)!”

— At seventeen, the three of you came to conclusion just how cruel and dangerous the beings that lurked in the sea were. San had a rough night with his father again, and with his mother’s insistence, he joined you both to the beach to clear his mind of the suffocating negativity that filled his household. 

A large, canvas umbrella shielded the three of you from the blazing sun. Even from here, the sound of the town’s clock tower chiming, signaling noon, can be heard. San’s head rested on your lap, his straw hat covering his face as he dozed off to your fingers gently running through his dark locks. He was exhausted after hours of swimming and playing volleyball with other kids your age. Sand coated the skin between his toes and a small baby seagull occasionally circled around his legs, curiously eyeing the bag of chips you were sharing with Wooyoung.  

The other male sat to your right, attempting to sketch the shore and moss covered rocks that broke the waves’ paths. He absentmindedly sipped on a bottle of juice, brows furrowed in determined concentration, his back littered with specks of sand from being buried up to his neck by San.

Peering up from his half completed sketch, his eyes were drawn onto the tiny boats and hardy people paddle boarding yards away from shore, despite the occasional gusts of wind. The waves crashed loudly into the clusters of rocks, foam spraying high in the air with every roar of water. The blue waters of the ocean were so clear that often times children would run around chasing the languid fish that found themselves swimming past their feet near the shore. Pebbles and other tiny marine life can be spotted on the sandy bed, the webs of sunlight dancing on the surface. 

A sudden flash of a purple fin stopped him in his tracks, his eyes squinting to make out the form. Another turquoise tail fin breeched the surface, but just as quickly dove back into the water. The two paddle boarders paused, glancing curiously at the two heads that rose from the water. 

Wooyoung watched in confusion as the men dropped their paddles, jaws slackening and frames growing stiff, as if in a deep trance. It happened too fast for his mind to register clearly, but one second the men are standing on their boards, and the next they’re both diving in hastily. His eyes rounded, fingers losing their grip on his bottle, the pomegranate juice spilling onto his sketch, startling you. Before you asked, your head snapped to the direction of his gaze, but you wish you hadn’t.

“Is that a siren?” you heard out in the distance.

A blonde haired creature’s mouth suddenly clamped down onto the screaming man’s neck, angular teeth piercing the skin and severing veins and muscle as he threw his head back roughly, red flesh intact in his mouth. Red liquid glugs from the victim’s lips and the severed carotid, pumping red into the ocean. 

The screams were so shrill you swore they could curdle blood.

Claws pierce the man’s eye-sockets rupturing the globes with a sickening pop, the left eye dangling only by the stubborn, red optical nerve, leaving behind a bloody and empty pit. The siren’s unforgiving lashes met the victim’s face, sharp and jagged nails tearing the man’s visage and shredding his jaw.

Moments later, the creature dives into the water, turquoise tail flashing just before its disappearance. The corpse is suddenly tugged down with such intensity that the red seawater swashes roughly with a loud plop, sea foam being the only indication of movement. Feet away, his friend is met with the same fate. 

The tails breached the surface near a sailboat, the people in it suddenly halting their movements while listening to the sirens’ voices. Wooyoung didn’t need to hear the screams of the people swimming nearby. The wave of fear washing over everyone present at the beach was enough indication.

He gaped in horror, his eyes watching as the beach goers pulled frightened children out of the water, others frantically grabbing their belongings and rushing in hoards for safety, clouds of sand left in their wake. Sandpipers and seagulls flew amongst the crazed crowd, disturbed at the sudden chaos around them. 

San suddenly jerked awake at the sound of a loud siren ringing from one of the pop shacks at the beach. He sat up in surprise, hat falling into his lap, and hand clutching his chest in surprise.

“What happened!?”

That night, the King sent guards around town to announce the banishment of swimming and other ocean sports, threatening anyone who broke the law to be executed by enforced drowning. A team was sent to the beach to pick up the torn flesh and limbs of the victims that washed up on shore. It was a horrid sight, the stench of death prominent and wafting through even the smallest crevice of the town. 

The three of you paid a visit to the vigil honoring the five people killed that day, the images of the brutal deaths haunting both Wooyoung and yourself in your sleep. The two of you joined each other on the lower bunk, arms coiled around each other for a source of comfort no one else could provide you with. The once vibrant atmosphere of the bustling town was replaced with an eerily quiet one- one that was stained with an ugly shade of fear and melancholy. — You were eighteen years of age when were moved out from the orphanage to a facility that housed other orphans, agreeing to partake in labor to help provide for both yourself and the establishment. Wooyoung soon joined you, and as much as you wanted for him to be with a family of his own, you were still happy he stuck around with you. He felt like family. 

The two of you landed jobs aiding fishermen catch and deliver the locally caught fish to merchants and markets. You rolled the sleeves of poofy tunic up, fastened the tied cloth around your waist and winced at the sudden gust of wind that blew your wide-brimmed hat off your head in an instant. 

It was a typical day on the fishing trawler. You were miles away from the coast, Wooyoung and yourself aiding the fishermen haul fish into different compartments, picking out the other creatures that were caught along with the school of fish. A storm battered the ship, but not enough for the helmsman to steer the ship back to port, despite the crew’s growing concern. 

Wooyoung grasped your elbow as you slipped onto the deck, waves crashing against the sides of the vessel. You thanked him with a nod of acknowledgment, hand shakily grasping the railing, brown boots sliding with every sway of the boat. He pointed to the hatch, hoping you’ll understand his implications without the use of hand signs. He was clearly fed up with the lack of concern from the fishermen, urging you with his eyes to crawl inside for safety. 

You opened your mouth to word out a reply, when a sudden jerk to the left caused you both to lose your grip. Wooyoung’s hands stabilized himself against the deck, his face scrunched in pain at the impact of his fall, watching in horror as the vessel tilted dangerously, a wave impelling the sides and sweeping you away with it. His hand flew to grasp your foot, only managing to graze the bottom of your boot in the process.

He was quick on his feet to inform the closest person about you falling overboard. His hands desperately clutched the orange lifebuoy, throwing it to where he spotted your head bobbing within the harsh waves. 

You met his gaze, hands reaching to grab the ring, when you felt a clawed hand grasp your ankle. In the time it took you to knit your brows in confusion at the sensation, you suddenly gasped in realization, earning you only a few more milliseconds of air before you were swiftly plunged down into the raging ocean. You were welcomed with the deafening roar of your heartbeat in your ears and the burning sensation in your sinuses. Beams of sunlight occasionally shined within the raging waters before they disappeared behind the dark plumes of clouds.

You hadn’t properly prepared to take a deep breath, your mouth parting open in shock at the sight of a beautiful, black haired man. Your stunned eyes were suddenly drawn to his puckering gills and outstretched smile, showcasing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. The purple fins on his neck and forearms shimmered with every flap and movement. 

He appeared to laugh as he teasingly swam around your frame, circling and eyeing you like prey. The delighted smile on his visage stretched wide, resembling the evil creatures drawn in the folklore books you read as a child. His iridescent, violet tail and fins tickled the skin of your neck, and your lungs began burning with the lack of oxygen, the subtle sounds of waves crashing joining in with the loud drumming of your pulse.

“My, my,” he chuckled, dark hues locked on your panic stricken face, “I didn’t even have to sing to get you to come to me, little human.”

The two of you were suspended in a neutral state of buoyancy, clouds of marine life occasionally passing by. Your blood ran so cold that it felt more like being electrocuted than anything else. You had to get yourself out immediately, before the lack of oxygen kills you or before the siren rips you apart like ribbons.

One second he was eyeing you curiously, and the next you struggled to escape his hold, teeth snapping and threatening to bite your neck open, your frames swaying with the waves’ thrusts, even from below the surface. Your mind had no time to keep up with your body’s involuntary actions, your fingers digging harshly into the gaps of his gills and clawing desperately in an attempt to escape. 

Your movements weren’t as clean and swift as they would’ve been on land, but your frenzied mind paid no thought. He winced at the onslaught of scratches, pulling away to clutch at his neck in pain, giving you the briefest amount of time to swim up, your arms securely wrapping around the ring and shouting up with a desperate cry. Waves rocked your frame, the water sloshing harshly around you, and hope slowly trickled in as you felt the line tug upwards to safety.

 As soon as your legs surfaced the water, the same hand breached past the waves, long nails digging into the skin of your calf, before getting caught in the buckles of your brown boot, slipping it off with ease as the siren fell back into the water. Beady eyes glowered at you as you were hoisted up the ship.

Arms were wrapped around your frame as soon as you landed in a wet, bloody heap on deck, Wooyoung’s concerned face invading your vision. His eyes flew from your leg to your bleeding, bitten hand, and finally your face. From the raindrops pattering his skin you couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. He held you so tightly against his frame, fingers coiling into your wet locks, his chest heaving heavily in panic. Your widened eyes could only stare straight ahead, arms weakly tangling around his form.

Four years later and you were left with lumpy, jagged scars on your left leg and hand. There was no action taken against the fishermen that you worked for, though. You didn’t have the money or means to do anything, so Wooyoung and you decided it was best to change the tasks you were meant to complete. Delivering fish from the ports to the markets instead of helping the fishermen at sea was a much better and safer option.

The two of you fell into the same boring routine. You heard mockeries under people’s breaths regarding the two of you- how nobody wanted to adopt you due to your troublesome behavior, and Wooyoung due to the fact that he was deaf. You wanted to beat the nonsense out of the people who spoke ill of you, but you knew in doing so it would prove their point. Over the years, you have calmed down, though. Only slightly.

Grumbling to yourself, you trudged up the narrow cobblestone path, Wooyoung by your side. The two of you carried nets of freshly caught fish, ready to be displayed at the fish market. The streets were mostly empty, the orange rays of the sun filtering out the darkness as it ever so slowly broke past the horizon, golden beams shining onto the numerous white and seaglass-blue buildings. You passed the formal gardens, your eyes glued to the plumes of vibrant colors showcased behind the copper gates, wondering what it would feel like to have a picnic with your friends there. San will love it, his love for flowers inherited from his mother.

‘I’m going to smell like fish all day,’ You signed to Wooyoung, your posture and facial expression giving away your feelings even beforehand.  

His biceps flexed as he adjusted the bags in his grip, unable to reply back as his hands were full. His sleeveless shirt displayed his toned, tanned arms, leather pants fitting quite nicely on his form. You knew he was teasing you as he took larger and quicker strides, leaving you behind. You waddled your way after him, your protests quite literally falling on deaf ears. 

You traded the fish for a sachet of silver coins, making sure to count the amount before your departure from the seafood market. On your way back to the docks, you stopped to grab a loaf of freshly baked bread and tea, offering the taller male walking with you. Elderly women can be spotted hunching down to tend to their rice fields, wide brimmed hats shielding them from the rising sun.

 Children began walking down the streets, dressed in the typical blue and white school uniform. You occasionally wished that Wooyoung and yourself grew up with those privileges- only worrying about upcoming tests and what meal you’ll devour after coming back from school. Despite the tiring labor, Wooyoung and yourself at least had each other’s company to enjoy, and you were grateful to have him by your side every second.

Overall, the waters were quite safe since that incident that occurred five years ago. The fishermen treated you both very well, always slapping at Wooyoung’s broadened shoulders and biceps playfully. They often teased you about being in a relationship, but quickly learned the sibling dynamic between the two of you. Wooyoung’s nose always scrunched in distaste at the memory.  

It was noon and the two of you finally finished your daily fish delivery trips. You decided to pay San a visit at his family’s library, his nose immediately scrunching up while he greeted you at the front desk. 

‘Would it kill you two to go shower before you visit?‘ he signed in annoyance, fingers then clamping around his mouth and nose.

You attempted to hug him, and he hastily backed away in his seat, a book smacking you in the arm in retaliation, a strangled sound emitting from the back of his throat, “Stop, (y/n)!” 

“But I missed you, Sannie,” you frowned, pulling Wooyoung forward by the elbow, ‘Wooyoung wants a hug too.’

‘You won’t die if I don’t hug you,’ San shook his head, propping the frames on his nose a bit higher, giving you two a pointed look.

‘Yes we will,’ Wooyoung protested, a pout finding itself onto his features, earning him a glare from San as you cackled,’Are you ready for the competition later?’

‘More than ever. Too bad the brat can’t attend,’ Wooyoung snorted at the response, hastily covering his mouth as you gave him a swift, sharp look. It was no surprise that Wooyoung used his hard earned silver coins to enlist in San’s swordsmanship school, much to the other’s delight. Tonight was the end of the season’s competition, but to your dismay, you had errands to complete before the prince’s coronation tomorrow.

San was peeved at the idea of you not attending, but Wooyoung clearly saw the irritation being directed at the fact that you couldn’t attend because of the prince and not due to the errands you were forced to complete. He rolled his eyes whilst gazing at your mouths moving rapidly in a display of ongoing bickering. The two of you were so oblivious to each other, Wooyoung found it gross. Endearing, but gross.

Later that night, Wooyoung returned home to the housing facility, his nose scrunching up in delight as he proudly displayed his second place trophy in the air. Throwing your arms around his neck and shaking his frame excitedly, you laughed as he stumbled back from the sudden attack. 

‘I’m so, so proud of you!’

A smile found itself resting on his features as he tugged you close to return the gesture. 

He was beyond grateful to have someone that felt like family.

Wooyoung rubbed the small amount of rose water in his hands and brushed his fingers through your hair, giving it a gentle tussle. He adjusted the clips holding your hair in place, before eyeing your reflection in the mirror, throwing a thumbs up and proceeding to pinch your cheeks. Swatting his hands away in protest, you turned to examine yourself at a different angle,’Do you think purple suits me?’

‘Of course. Every color suits you.’

‘But do you think I look good in purple? Should I wear the blue one instead?’

‘I’m pretty sure San will love it. Two of his favorite-’

You furiously signed that you did not even bring San’s name into the conversation, and Wooyoung snickered at your flustered reaction. You hated how well he read you- how easily he read every feeling you attempted to bury and conceal. 

And you hated the fact that you had no confidence to confess your feelings in the first place.

The night of Prince Hongjoong’s coronation was much like the night of his coming-of-age celebration, only now Wooyoung and you were older— and being older meant partying harder.

Wooyoung watched you stumble into a pole, snickering and tugging you towards himself to stabilize your tipsy form. San shook his head as he walked back towards you with three sticks of fried pastry, his lips parting to scold you, “You're lightweight! You shouldn’t have drank so much, (y/n).”

Wooyoung has spent a good amount of time with the both of you, and after years of friendship, he often picked up on reading your lips as you two argued. He rubbed your shoulders in silent understanding, knowing fully well you downed that liquor in hopes of gaining confidence to actually look San in the eye and not have to deal with flushed ears and bickering to conceal your feelings. San in traditional garments was your utter weakness.

It had the opposite effect, really. You complained about his voice being too loud, and how the lights were too bright around you— how the smells of the street food were too strong. Wooyoung offered you a bottle of water, forcing you to down it all in one go in order to clear your mind a bit. He gave San a knowing smile as he watched from the sidelines, adam’s apple bobbing nervously at the sight of streaks of water cascading down from the corners of your lips and onto your neck, your clavicles glistening underneath all of the oil lamps illuminating the streets. Once catching the lavender haired male’s smirking gaze, the other silently scrunched his face in embarrassment, swiftly turning away to eye the closest confectionery shop.

Underneath the star-filled sky, the townspeople chatted amongst each other, many of them drunk and attempting to form dance circles in the town square. Many musicians filled the streets, the sweet and joyous melodies dancing in between every corner and alley of Aurora. A few women danced with delicate and sensual sways of their hips to the beats of darbuka drums and oud notes, hungry eyes watching their every move. The scent of tobacco and alcohol filled the air. An hour later, you felt better, mind clearing slightly. 

The smell of fresh pastries and milk custards wafted through the air, as you shared a large piece of cinnamon cake between the other two boys. Wooyoung stood up, informing you that he needed to buy water and possibly use the restroom. 

It was only when you were left alone with San, you suddenly felt like a small and helpless bug without Wooyoung’s presence and emotional support. You can face San on normal days, but when he’s dressed like this, hair slicked back, and the back of his ears and wrists shining with sandalwood oil-based perfume, your confidence crumbled into a mere speck of dust.

“You look pretty,” he started, voice quiet as his kohl lined eyes fixate on the cake between the two of you, “Purple suits you, you know?”

You scrambled to find a coherent reply, mind too frazzled at the sudden bold comment from the man across from you,. You needed to be casual, natural- needed to say something that won’t scare him off, or make you sound too desperate.

“You look hot when you spar.”

His eyes widened in surprise at your confession, jaw dropping in disbelief, cinnamon frosting and cake crumbs coating his cupid’s bow, and you suddenly wished you drank more of that nasty rum earlier.

Half an hour passed as the two of you awkwardly exchanged hints and implications of your feelings, when suddenly your brows furrowed, your frame rising up from your seat at the wooden table, “Okay, now I know for a fact that he’s lost. It’s been too long-”

“But he knows his way through town, (y/n). Besides, this is his favorite bakery— no way he’ll get lost,” San reassured, finger flicking the strand of hair that fell into his gaze. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, hand running through your hair as you took a few steps away from the table, calling out back to him, “You stay here in case he comes back. I’ll go look for him, okay?”

After a nod of approval, you sauntered off among the sea of crowds searching for a mop of purple hair. You grew tired after half an hour of searching, even returning back to San in hopes that Wooyoung found his way back. When he saw dread fill your eyes at absence of the male, he stood up, cupping your your panic stricken face and telling you to calm down.

“You check the south, and I’ll check north, got it? We’ll meet at the same spot after half an hour,” he squeezed your shoulder and offered a small smile, “He’ll be okay. He’s Warrior Wooyoung after all. I trained him well.”

Fifteen minutes ticked by and you attempted to push down the heavy and negative thoughts invading your mind. This was not like back in the orphanage. Wooyoung was not the little, scared, helpless little boy. He was strong, brave, and—

You walked straight into a firm chest, hands reaching up to stabilize you as you stumbled back on your feet, head snapping up to apologize, “Ah, Pipsqueak. You’ve grown quite nicely since the last time I’ve seen you.”

Your eyes widened at the familiar voice, you hand immediately reaching up to swat at his arms, only for him to pull back defensively. Oh, how you hated the sight of his face and the sound of his voice. The gods must have loved Wooyoung for not granting him the sense of hearing, because you knew Minjae’s voice was disgusting enough to make anyone’s ear’s bleed. 

“Whoa- whoa! So hot-headed, still?” He laughed, eyes tracing every curve of your frame as he took a few steps back,”I see you’ve only psychically changed. But here,” he tapped his temple, broad shoulders on full display as he crossed arms,”You're still the same kid who was all bark and no bite.”

“I punched you, and you cried like a baby in front of the entire orphanage,” you stated matter-of-factly. 

The amusement in his eyes drifted away like the clouds blanketing the bright, full moon. You hated to admit it, but now that he was much, much taller than you, broader than you, and clearly stronger than you, it made you just a tiny bit anxious. You had no doubt that he’ll be able to manhandle you with just one hand, easily taking you down. A sneer met his features, “Ah, the day your idiot of a boyfriend was introduced to us, right? I heard you were also locked in the director’s closet as punishment.”

“Say that again, I dare you,” you spat back, mirroring his own sneer. He shrugged his shoulders, leaning back slightly against the wall beside him, as a snort of amusement escapes his  throat, “Why? Don’t like when I talk about him? Can’t believe Stupid grew up to beat me in second place,” he paused, as if contemplating his next words carefully, “It’ll be the last time, though. I can guarantee you that, love.”

Silence struck between the two of you.

You stared at his cocky smirk, his last words reverberating in your mind. His smile only broadened at the sight of horror and realization washing over your features. Suddenly, he found himself jerked down by the collar of his traditional garb, your hands itching to clobber that smile off his chiseled visage, “What did you do to him! Where is he!?”

He laughed at your attempt to intimidate him, gently prying your fists off of him as he patted the crown of your head in mock affection, “Don’t know. Maybe he’s partying, maybe he’s with San, or maybe..” he straightened his back, lips pursing whilst tapping his temple in thought, “..he’s being eaten alive by the sirens. Your guess, Sweetheart.”

You didn’t even realize you were already tripping on your feet to reach the docks in the southern part of town, Minjae’s amused laughter ringing behind you, your heart hammering in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins. You pushed past drunkards, guards, adults, and hell- even children without a second glance or care in the world. There was no time to find San, the tears in your eyes flying into the air like tiny pearls as you flung yourself corner after corner between the blue and white buildings in a rush to reach the shore.

You will never forgive yourself if you didn’t find him alive. — Wooyoung was angered at his predicament. He should have known it was a trap, but he had a big heart, deciding to push his suspicions away when a lady asked him for help regarding her puppy at the beach. Well, at least that’s what he assumed when she pulled out a picture of a dog, pointing in the general direction of the harbor.

As soon as his suspicions surfaced, it was too late. She turned around so quickly, he had no time to react when she swung her heavy, straw bag onto his head, stumbling back and shielding his face. He was then ambushed by a group of men, who then proceeded to not only tie his wrists and ankles together, but also shove him in one of the smaller docked boats, working quickly to untie the thick ropes attaching it to the dock, allowing it to drift off yards away into the dark sea. 

Even during his delirious state, he didn’t fail to recognize one face in particular- the same face who glowered at him while he received the second place trophy yesterday night. Even with third place, Minjae still wasn’t satisfied, not when the kid he loved to pick on beat him at his own game, with much less training and practice. His ego was as easy to bruise as a banana.

With no paddle or oar, Wooyoung’s attempts to return back to shore with his bound hands were fruitless. As the boat drifted off even further, he flung his hands to grasp the edge of the jagged rocks, finger scraping against the barnacles and limpets that cracked underneath his steady grip. The blankets of green algae coating the rock causes his fingers to slip and slide, sharp points of the rocks and tiny mussels no help in aiding him whatsoever.

Panic and dread settled in his system, much to his displeasure. San taught him that a clear mind will do wonders when one in is in trouble, however looking at his situation now, it’s almost inevitable what will happen to him. He can barely make out the dock now, the glow of the town still visible from where he grasped onto the rocks for dear life, feet still bound in the boat. It was dark outside, people were busy with the coronation, and he couldn’t hear anything or anyone. 

The waves were strong and yet gentle at this distance, the boat rocking noisily against the large stones. The moon’s reflection in the water rippled, and a mop of blonde hair surfaced, startling Wooyoung suddenly. The being’s lips moved slowly, as if he were chanting calmly, eyes holding a mischievous fire within them. The man’s skin had an iridescent glow to it underneath the moonlight, specks of turquoise lining the sides of his neck and cheekbones. 

“Which human is stupid enough to take a swim at night during a full moon, hm?”

Pectoral fins on his neck flapped gently in the water, gill cavities visible from where Wooyoung stood. The being’s hair was reminiscent of the golden threads of the royal family garbs, and Wooyoung could only gape in sheer shock at the creature’s beauty. When he made no move to submerge himself in the water, the creature circled around the boat, brows furrowing in confusion. His lips moved rapidly now, shaping words Wooyoung had a difficult time deciphering, especially with such dim lighting.

From this distance, Wooyoung made out a large turquoise tail, which glimmered within the moonlight right below the surface of the water, and only then did he realize that the creature was the same one in the books he’s read about in San’s library as a child. However, this time, you weren’t there to fight the imaginary creatures on his behalf, and he was alone, stuck at sea along with said creature.The drawings did little to no justice in capturing the painful beauty of the beasts, though.

The siren’s lips parted, teeth so sharp like the daggers he trained with, anger now evident in his eyes as he swam much too close to Wooyoung’s comfort. “Why are you not abandoning your boat to come to me, you filthy human?” the creature sneered, jagged claws scraping at the edge of Wooyoung’s boat. 

Golden eyes widened as Wooyoung swatted the creature’s hands away in retaliation. The siren reeled back in surprise, shock enveloping his features as the human glowered down at him. Bounded hands or not, Wooyoung will not go down without a fight. If you were here, you would be proud, he thinks.

When the creature attempts to grasp the edge of the boat once more, tilting it down to capsize it, Wooyoung’s hands reach out to scrape long stripes onto the being’s arms, his scaly, slippery flesh cool to the touch. He made no attempt to smirk cockily at the shocked creature as it pulled back with a hiss. It still had the upper hand in this situation. Warily, the golden haired being swayed gently along with the waves, his eyes searching for an answer in the boy’s face. Turning hastily to eye the structure of the rock, Wooyoung contemplated trying to climb onto the high surface for safety despite his restraints. Maybe the morning sailors and fishermen will find him in the early hours of the morning.

“Ah, you’re quite boring,” he drawled in disgust, “I like them when they scream and cry.”

This is definitely a crazy one. Maybe Seonghwa will enjoy tearing him open instead.

Wooyoung startled at the noise that invaded his mind, frantically looking around for the source, only for his eyes to lock onto the back of the being’s head. Did he just hear? That was a voice, right? 

‘Are you talking about me?’

The creature was now far enough for the reflection of the moon to ripple between the two. 

‘Hey! Was that you speaking? How can I hear you?’

Wooyoung was certainly not expecting shock to wash over the being’s features, his lips parting in a silent gasp as he turned his head to gaze back at him over his scaly shoulder, golden orbs widening. Just who was this human?

‘How are you communicating with me telepathically? This is not possible,’ the creature made no move to swim closer, uncertainty in its eyes,’What kind of human are you, boy?’

Wooyoung didn’t know how to respond, the confusion in his eyes mirroring the creature’s,’I don’t know,’ his hands gripped the boulders roughly as a harsh wave rocked the boat. With desperate eyes, he pleaded to the creature,’Please help me reach back to shore.’

Wooyoung didn’t need to hear to know how amused the creature was at his words. Throwing his head back with laughter, golden strands glimmering with every movement,’A siren? Helping a human?’ he swam slowly to the purple haired male, golden orbs narrowing into a threatening glare as he spat his next words harshly,’I don’t help your kind. I find it much more amusing to rip you measly humans open by your throats, watching your life flash before your eyes as you choke on your blood, before you sink to the pits of the ocean where your pathetic wastes of bodies are gnawed on by sea creatures. You should’ve listened to the warnings in your bedtime stori-’

“Wooyoung!” 

The motion of the siren’s head snapping to the side bought Wooyoung’s attention up to that direction, eyes squinting to make out a figure struggling to make it past the onset of waves in a small coracle. Relief washed over him, his eyes widened in recognition, unable to wave his bound hands in fear of losing his grip of the rocks. 

“Oh, thank the heavens you’re—”

Knowing fully well he couldn’t hear you, you couldn’t help but shout in relief at the mere sight of his intact body. It was only when you noticed the head of blonde hair in the water that the oar nearly slipped out of your hands. In a desperate attempt to further the distance between Wooyoung and that damned siren, you were quick to whip your shoes in its direction, aiming for the creature’s head. 

“Get away from him!”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened at your actions, shaking his head frantically to get your attention,’Stop, you idiot!’ His face said it all, but you were too engrossed in yelling profanities at the creature, whose eyes flickered from the floating shoes and back to your heated face. When the siren’s lips curled back, sharp teeth glimmering in the moonlight to make his way to end your life, Wooyoung rushed to stop him, knowing fully well what will conclude if he didn’t,‘Stop! No! Don’t hurt, (y/n)! Please.’

‘One strange human after another. Give me one reason I shouldn’t snap this human roach’s neck this instant,’ the creature hissed underneath his breath, molten gold orbs furiously trained on your approaching figure. Wooyoung’s eyes frantically flickered back and forth from your outraged form and back to the crouching siren, whose face sunk in the water until he was eye level with the surface,’Well?’

‘(Y/n).. (y/n) is my lover?,’ Wooyoung threw in a white lie, wincing at the irrational thoughts he shared with the creature. Whether or not the creature knew he was lying, he hoped that was enough to deter him, even slightly. Golden eyes peered at him in faint curiosity, a scoff escaping the creature’s lips in bubbles, before he dipped himself fully underneath the water’s surface, swimming his way in your direction, ignoring the frantic thoughts of the purple haired male drilling in his mind.

You glared down at the creature underneath the water, whose amused eyes studied your seething form. You aimed the oar, plunging it down with a loud plop of the water. A laugh rang out behind you, and you found yourself suddenly tilting face first into the water. Your frantic swimming came to a halt when the creature circled around you beneath the surface, long turquoise tail curling around your frame in amusement. Beams of moonlight illuminated his iridescent face, which was mere inches away from your own, his lips stretching wide to reveal two rows of sharp, jagged teeth, golden strands dancing and framing his face beautifully. 

You refused to allow this fish to scare you– not like last time. It was that sudden impulse that prompted you to angrily tug at the fins on his neck, before you gripped his long, wavy locks back, fingers roughly digging into the gaps of his gills. 

If you had air, you would’ve laughed at the stupefied expression on his face, but before you made another move, his tail smacked you upside the head, taking you by surprise. He wriggled away from your grasp, swimming away and allowing the darkness of the ocean to engulf his figure. 

Breaking the surface of the ocean, you spotted a panic stricken Wooyoung, whose shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of your smiling face. You ignored the glare he sent you as you swam a few feet to retrieve the floating oar, before making your way over to his boat, struggling to climb in. You clung onto his dry form, hands cupping his face to examine it and his neck, looking for any sign of harm.

He struggled to sign words with his bound hands, his chin jutting in the general direction of the shore, silently asking you to start paddling. Golden hair and eyes broke the surface of the water yards behind the boat, watching you struggle to keep the boat steady and straight. ‘Visit me again, Human. You’ve intrigued me.’ Wooyoung’s head snapped back at the sound, but all he could make out was a ripple of the water. You found yourself hunched down, a jagged stone in hand as you attempted to slice through the hemp twine encasing Wooyoung’s limbs. The two of you walked to the nearby promenade, the low lighting of the lampposts around you not aiding your sight in the slightest. With the adrenaline now fading away, the reality of what just occurred finally began to sink in your frazzled mind. Your hands trembled as you sliced through, tears dropping in pearls onto the pavement. You were so, so close to losing the only person you called family. Was this the feeling of what having a family meant? The impending doom one feels when their loved one is in danger? You hated it. You loved Wooyoung, but you hated this foreign feeling. It was ugly and it tore you down from the inside out, disrupting your breathing pattern and train of thought. Off to the side, the gentle waters rocked the small dinghies and larger day boats nestled on the side of the promenade. The moon’s reflection was stunning against the calmer waters of this side of town. “Where have you been!?” San’s frantic cry snapped your attention from cutting the bonds around Wooyoung’s arms, and up to the confused, ebony haired male who hunched forward, clutching the wall to steady his breathing,”I checked the entire south shore! Minjae said Wooyoung-” “You best believe I’ll have him expelled from your school after the stunt he pulled,” you growled, finally tugging the last of the thick twine from the purple haired boy’s limbs, your hands still trembling with anger, before you hurled the stone against one of the smaller boats, the water rippling as it dropped down, “I’ll— I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll snap his neck in half- as soon as I get my hands on him I-.. I will squeeze his throat until he’s as blue as the ocean..” Wooyoung’s hands fisted around your lithe fingers, his arms pulling you into his chest tightly as you desperately gripped the back of his shirt, too afraid to let him go. San’s expression fell at the sight, his hands reaching to rub the both of your backs. ‘Are you okay?’ San pulled the other into a hug, hand cradling the other’s head tenderly. Wooyoung pulled away to nod, a silent storm forming in his brown hues, which you two failed to see past the anger and relief that washed upon reuniting with your friend. Later on, San happily visited you to inform you of Minjae’s expulsion from the swordsmanship program, the school stripping away all of the past medals he obtained. He was happy to have him gone and have you not behind bars for attempted murder. He refused to let you know where Minjae lives. — Peeling his eyes open, Wooyoung found himself submerged within the dark depths of the ocean. No marine life swam by, and strong beams of sunlight danced beneath the surface of the water. He kicked his legs and arms in an attempt to swim up to the surface. Strangely enough, he hadn’t felt the need for air. A few seconds before he breached the surface, a kind face hovered above the water, the person’s visage distorted with the moving water. A hand plunged down the water hastily, the pads of two fingers grazing his forehead ever so gently, before he found himself being dragged down to the ocean’s dark trenches by a strong force, his arm instinctively flinging up to try and reach the outstretched hand. He felt a scream slip past his lips as a clawed hand pierced through the flesh of his neck, dragging upwards towards his chin, the blood beginning to waft into the water around him. The manic laughter emitted from the creature practically curdled his blood, and his vision was suddenly overtaken by a set of teeth so sharp they resembled daggers. The creature’s jaws snapped so tightly around the junction of his nec— Wooyoung’s frame shot up suddenly. His chest heaved with rapid, heavy breaths, heart practically convulsing in his ribcage. Swallowing thickly, his wide, paranoid eyes scanned his environment, shoulders relaxing subtly as he took in the sight of the messy living space he shared with you. Beams of sunlight flickered through the curtains, birds chirping happily in the early hours of the morning. He heard your faint breathing from the bottom bunk, and he fluttered his eyes shut in relief. Throwing himself back, he gazed up at the chipped, stained ceiling, face and arms glistening with a sheen of sweat. The constant nightmares still will not hinder his decision to meet with the siren. He wanted answers. He needed answers. A month passed since the incident and Prince Hongjoong’s coronation, and you grew increasingly worried about Wooyoung. He appeared to be in his own world when hauling the nets of fish every morning, his eyes trained onto the ocean the entire time. The cries of seagulls could be heard as they dipped and soared overhead near the docked fishing trawlers. Your brows knitted in confusion as his gaze never left the vast expanse of the gentle waters, despite the most clouding the air. Just what was he searching for? You’ll study him a bit more before confronting him- that sounded like a good enough course of action Wooyoung also spent a ridiculous amount of time in the town’s library while he wasn’t training with San. While he loved reading with you and San when he was younger ( San and you took turns wither narrating or animatedly sign the words for him for a better experience in storytelling), he never really went out of his way to read on his own accord. He had shook his head when you asked if anything was bothering him. Even San couldn’t get him to reveal the cause of his sudden curiosity of the mythical sea creatures. You decided not to pry too much, instead focusing on completing more tasks to get an extra heap of silver coins before San’s birthday, silently promising yourself to buy him that golden cutlass sword he set his eyes on months ago. When Wooyoung wasn’t in either the library, or training, he sauntered off without informing anyone. You were worried at the sudden change of behavior, but after speaking with San, you came to realization that Wooyoung was an adult now, and he didn’t need supervision or protection like he once did as a child. You still couldn’t shake that gnawing feeling out of the pit of your stomach. ‘Is everything okay with you?’ you asked one day, book in your lap forgotten as you stared at him from your seat on the lower bunk bed. The smell of salt and sea lingered in your small space from the opened window in the back. He lifted his umber hues for the briefest second to watch you repeat the gestures before nodding with a half-hearted smile, turning back to his book on the small table in the corner of your one-room living quarters. Miffed at his lack of honesty, you crawled out of the space, book tossed aside as you roughly dragged the chair back to plop across from him, eyes searching his face for answers,’Where have you been going off to?’ Quirking a brow at your pushy and intrusive choice of words, he held himself back from rolling his eyes,’It’s nothing important. Don’t worry about it.’ He returned his gaze back to the book, lavender locks falling into his eyes. You swiftly snatched the book away from him, eyes scanning the page quickly before he practically jumps onto you, face contorted into disbelief and anger, his expression clearly asking you if you had lost your mind,’Why are you suddenly so interested in sirens? Why do you disappear for hours on end almost every single day?’ ‘I told you it’s nothing important. Go to sleep,’ anger was clearly evident on his features and his demeanor. He plopped down back into his seat, book concealing half of his face as his eyes flickered to you in frustration. ‘You’re trying to find that siren, aren’t you?’ He stilled, mind reeling at the accusation, before he snapped the heavy book shut with a loud slam, ignoring your existence completely as he made his way over to the ladder to reach his top bunk. You grabbed him by the back of the shirt, turning him around to point a finger in his face, relying on him to read your lips, the anger in your system seemingly unbearable, “Am I right!?” ‘Stop treating me like I’m your son. Goodnight, (y/n).’ He left no room for arguments, eyes void of any warmth at your nosy questions. You watched him crawl into his covers, his back facing you. Scoffing to yourself, you reached down to snuff the oil lamps, the sudden darkness of the room concealing the hurt expression that painted your features. Wooyoung didn’t bother exchanging words with you the next day during your fish deliveries. You glowered at his retreating figure as he just waved a goodbye. You thought it was best to ignore the brat, and instead focus on the errands left on your plate. The tasks you completed were mostly deliveries of goods, and cleaning the docks and beaches of the litter and waste the townspeople left behind. You grimaced as you picked up what appeared to be the remnants of a torn loincloth and a shattered bottle of rum, throwing it in the plastic bag you carried in your gloved hands. Turning swiftly back to the pile you created up the slope of the rocky area of the beach, a flash of purple froze you in your tracks. You blinked, but nothing was there. Furrowing your brows, you decided to investigate, just to make sure the sun hadn’t baked your brain and burned your eyes. Placing the parchment bag down to steady it against a sturdy rock, you padded your way towards the sea cave that the villagers always warned kids not to venture off into. The water reached your ankles as you hesitantly stepped into the quiet cave, beams of sunlight guiding you through the tunnel of rocks. You grimaced at the feeling of algae and barnacle on the wall, feet stepping cautiously onto the wet boulders. You turned a corner, eyes immediately catching sight of the opening on the top of the cave, which filtered strong beams of rays into the shallow, turquoise and blue waters of the cave. Not quite paying close attention to your footing, your ankle caught onto a chunk of seaweed, toes stubbing against a jagged stone. You yelped loudly, your voice echoing in the cave as you crashed into the waist deep water. Before the thought of getting up even crossed your mind, your eyes widened at the sight of the familiar siren, who bristled in front of you, the long, protruding rays on his frame flaring out in anger, claws and jagged teeth ready to rip you apart if it wasn’t the blur of purple that hovered above you with arms spread out in defense. A whistling hiss emitted from the creature as he peered at you from over Wooyoung’s shoulders, face contorted into a glare, “Wooyoung!? You—...” the pain from your fall was now buried underneath the rising anger that bubbled from within you. Pointing an accusing finger at the creature, you glared back, “You! I knew it! You seduced him! You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you?!” “How disgusting that you think I’ll reduce myself to seduce a human being of all things. I would much rather kiss a squid. I want nothing to do with you filthy pests.” You smacked Wooyoung’s calf in confusion, angrily signing at the sight of his embarrassed expression,’What are you doing here with a siren!?’ ‘Why were you following me?’ ‘I wasn’t! I was running an errand when I saw you come here! He seduced you. He sang for you, and you-‘ your hands just could not keep up with your racing thoughts. You opted to spit out your words, mostly for the siren to hear,“I’ll slice him like a trout and sell his flesh in the market- now move, Wooyoung,” you proceeded to step around the taller male, your bare hands clawing at the air as he tugged you back by the waist, the siren staring at you with a dull expression. “Crazy human,” he simpered at the sight of your frustration, “Your boyfriend can’t even hear me sing.” You kicked at the water at the smug expression of the siren, Wooyoung’s jaw dropping in disbelief, @He’s not my boyfriend, you putrid fish! If I find out you’ve hurt him in any way-” With a wave of his tail, you found yourself drenched from the head down. — Crossing your arms in anger, you leaned against the mossy wall of the cave, glaring holes into the siren’s head, as Wooyoung finished explaining everything, demeanor nervous and all as you rung your shirt for the third time to rid your attire of the seawater. Seagulls cawed around the roof of the cave, and small creatures climbed in between the cracks and crevices of the rocks surrounding you. Yeosang was leaning forward, arms crossed against a rock, chin tucked up onto his arms as his tail swished languidly in the water behind him. “Is it true that Wooyoung can speak to you telepathically?” you peered over the boy’s shoulder, quirking a brow at the bored siren, who was busy toying with a cluster of barnacle. He nodded, rolling his eyes as you asked for an explanation as to why that was possible. “Don’t know. Your lovely human friend here has been reading about it all month, and I can’t come up with anything rational either,” he threw himself back, eyes squinting as beams of sunlight flashed onto his face, “He’s been meeting me here to ask questions and learn about our kind. Curious little guy, but naive. It’s great that the runt has you following after him like a little sandpiper, or else I probably would have killed him that night.” He burst into a fit of mock laughter at your panicked expression, leaning back against a rock and crossing his arms over his chest, green, transparent gills dripping with seawater, “Kidding. I’ve never met a deaf human and a ..” he eyed you up and down, tongue gliding against his sharp teeth as he thought of a way to describe you, “Earth roach.” Wooyoung shot you a look as you attempted to grab a seashell to thwart it at the siren, “Why should we even trust you? You’ve killed too many humans. One of you attacked me too!” “You don’t have to trust me,” his tail fins swayed gently in the water as he threw a smirk your way,”Ah, so you’re that human that managed to escape from Seonghwa years ago? You left some ugly damage to his gills that day, y’know. Couldn’t sing for a week. He’ll be happy to know I found you.” “It’s against the law to interact with sirens anyway. I don’t want to see that bastard.” “Well, I guess I should call the King on you two for breaking the law? Or better yet, maybe I’ll tear you apart to see how you look from the inside. Red is my favorite color for a reason.” You rolled your eyes, tugging at Wooyoung’s elbow to get his attention. You urged him to go home with you and leave the siren be, but he wouldn’t budge, sitting down onto one of the dry rocks, hands grabbing at the forgotten book. You argued back and forth, exchanging glares of protest as he told you he’ll be fine. “He is a siren,” you cried, hands grasping his shoulders, face leaning in, “He will kill you!” ‘He would have killed me weeks ago, if he really wanted to,’ he defended, mirroring your own fierce glare. Twenty minutes ticked by, and you eventually gave up attempting to persuade him. Wooyoung was as stubborn as a rock. You decided it was best to just trust him, even if you did think he was insane for interacting with a siren like it was a friend. Like it was human. Like it had compassion and empathy. It was nothing but a blood-thirsty killer. His explanation just had no merit to it whatsoever. A month passed and Wooyoung wasn’t killed, so you assumed all was well. The last thing you expected was to see Wooyoung walk back into your complex, one late night, with disheveled hair and purple marking on his neck. The straw broom in your hands fell onto the floor with a loud clang, as you attempted to near him in suspicion. His hands hastily shot up to conceal the love-bites with the collar of his blouse, but your hands were quick to push them away. You glared into his eyes disapprovingly as his face flushed in embarrassment, “Please tell me it wasn’t him.” Anger suddenly washed his features as he read your lips. He pried your arms off, angrily shoving past you to reach the closet for a change of clothes. You rushed to stand in front him, arms crossed and features cold,’You can’t expect me to be okay with this. He’s a siren. You can’t love a siren. Don’t go see him again, please. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.’ ‘I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself,’ his gaze was cold. ‘I didn’t say you were, but I’m scared. What if he hurts you?’ ‘It’s because I’m deaf, isn’t it? You think the world is out to get me, and I’m not capable of handling anything by myself?’ You vehemently disagreed with his thoughts, but he left no more room for argument as he slammed the door to the bathroom shut, rattling the figurines on top of the wooden dresser you shared. The sound of the shower head was audible through the door as you furiously swept the remaining dust bunnies. This went on for about two more months The past two months have also been increasingly difficult for San and his mother at home. Your other friend grew somewhat distant and cold when you came to visit him at home. You didn’t need any explanation about his behavior. Mrs. Choi’s attempts at concealing the blooming blue and purple marks proved fruitless as she reached up to dust bookshelves, her shirt giving way to showcase the marks marring her skin. Her eyes seemed to always shine with a thin layer of tears, and her smile was forced half of the time.

San was aggressive whilst practicing and honing his swordsmanship skills, muscles burning in protest as he slashed at slabs of wood repeatedly, his cheeks rosy underneath the evening sun. Not even your arms tugging him away from the practice field sufficed in calming his raging nerves down, shouting at you to leave if you didn’t want to watch. There was a need to continuously grow stronger- you clearly saw it past his anger and frustration. He wanted, needed, to feel as if he had power over something. With a heavy heart, you nodded in acceptance, sitting off to the side to watch him burn himself out physically. He also partook in extra duels, so many that a limit had to be placed on how much he could take part in. During times like these, you realized being raised as an orphan was nothing compared to living with an abusive father. You only wished to stop feeling so helpless, wishing you could help carry the pain and exhaustion weighing San’s shoulders down.

One day, while the three of you sat together in a nearby cafe, he picked at his baked tart, eyes then darting from you quietly sipping your tea to Wooyoung who stuffed his mouth with a freshly baked croissant. The purple haired male wore a scarf around his neck, the sight of it only angering you slightly. San’s lips parted in hesitation, words dying in his throat as you glanced up at him curiously,”You okay?”

Wooyoung peered over at the ebony haired male, cheeks round with warm pastry and jam, his eyes blinking in confusion,‘Sorry, did you want a piece of my croissant?’

San snorted at the guilt ridden expression on the lavender haired male’s visage, an amused smile raking his features as he shook his head,’No. That’s fine,’ his hands hovered above his drink, lips pressed into a thin line, before he continued,’I realized I never thanked you two.’

‘Thanked us for what?’ 

‘I didn’t grow up having anyone to look up to. I only grew up knowing what I don’t want to be like. None of the children at school understood me, either. They often mocked my mother and I when they visited the library, sometimes smudging ink on their hands to resemble the bruises on her arms. They were evil, and for the longest time, I thought the entire world was as cold as they were. You two changed my entire perceptive of people, though. So, thank you. It’s years too late, but-,’ San’s bashful expression suddenly fell at the sight of the two pairs of glassy eyes,”Ah! What? Don’t even think about crying!”

—

Weeks later, and San had returned to somewhat of a healthier, emotional state of mind, spending most of his time either at the library with his mother, or training and dueling. Late nights walking on the beach also aided his frazzled nerves.

Wooyoung spent most of him time with Yeosang at the cave, and San had questioned you regarding his behavior one day when he paid you a visit, hands heavy with the dinner he helped his mother prepare. You gaped at him, chopsticks in mid-air as you gave him an incredulous look, “What? No, I didn’t reject him- I don’t even like him like that— oh heavens this is Wooyoung we’re talking about, San. He’s like a brother to me. You know that. He’s just..” What sounded reasonable enough for Wooyoung to spend more time away from the only people he considered family? What were you going to say? Picking up on San’s lingering suspicion, you placed your utensil down, sighing and ringing your fingers together as you gazed at him in contemplation, “I..” the words you wanted stuck in your throat. Swallowing thickly, you suddenly found interest in the noodles and fish on your plate, “You know I have feelings for you, and only you. No one will ever change that, San.”

You were aware of how heated his face had become at the confession, brown hues lifting to study your features warily, “Do you really mean that? Am I good enough for you?”

You push past the need to shoot him an incredulous look, instead opting to reach over to clasp his hands in your own, fingers coiling with his,”Of course, I mean it. You’ll always own my heart. It’s always been that way.”

“But I need you to tell me that I’m good enough for you,” he pushed his plate away, appetite gone as he stared stoically at you, his voice so small it sounded like a whisper,“Do you think I’m capable of protecting you? Or.. or even loving you? Am I?”

“You are. You’re more than enough for me,” you stood up to hug his head against your chest, his eyes locked on yours, stunned and almost teary-eyed, “You’ll always be enough.”

One moment you were busy eating dinner, and the next the two of you found yourselves entangled in each other’s embrace, exchanging feverish kisses and desperate, long-awaited touches that once only existed existed in your dreams, too insecure to turn them into reality. You kissed every mark and scar left from the hands of his father, murmuring gentle praises against his marred skin, his muscles rippling underneath your touch. His lips wouldn’t leave your form, biting and sucking at every expanse of flesh he could reach as he rocked into you, hands gripping your hips and waist almost possessively. 

He fell against your bare form in a heap, your conjoined bodies sticky and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. His face was buried into the crook of your neck as he suckled onto a patch of your bruised skin, hot breath fanning against your already heated flesh as he whispered sweet, muffled promises against the shell of your ear. You felt his release slowly dribble from where your bodies met, your frame squirming at the sensation as you unwrapped your legs from around his waist, spreading them apart to allow him room to settle against your panting figure.

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was into Wooyoung,” you groaned in embarrassment as he littered your chest with tiny love marks, teeth scraping against your skin in the most pleasurable way. He chuckled against your supple flesh, and it’s then you realized you haven’t seen a smile reach his eyes quite like this in all the years you’ve known him.

The next morning, he expected to find a flustered Wooyoung at the sight of San sleeping in his home, but his sheets were still pristine and untouched, just as they were the night before. He questioned you about Wooyoung while you two shared a light breakfast together, beams of sunlight doing wonders to his chiseled visage and bed hair.

“Okay, I guess I’ve been keeping this away from you for too long, and Wooyoung didn’t want me mentioning it—” An inferno set ablaze in San’s eyes, and you internally scolded yourself for the lack of appropriate words. You hastily whispered before he had the opportunity to open his mouth, “He made friends with a siren, and-”

“With a siren!?” His spoon clattered in the bowl of porridge, splashing the table and the mug of tea. Your eyes widened and you slapped a finger to your lips, telling him to lower his voice, “What do you mean be quiet!? He’s with a siren, and you’re okay with that!?”

His hard gaze was trained on you, and an involuntary shiver ran down your spine. You parted your lips to explain, when suddenly, he pushed back his seat, chair scraping the floor as he made his way over to Wooyoung’s closet, throwing on the leather baldric he found and sheathing Wooyoung’s sword, before tugging his boots only to spare you a brief glance. You trailed after San, hands tugging desperately at his arms, but he refused to turn around and listen, “Listen, I’ve tried telling him, but he wouldn’t have it! Trust me, this is going to do more harm than good- He can hear the siren! They communicate telepathically and- and.. there’s no explanation to it but please- I’ve tried persuading him, but he’s too stubborn for his own good.”

“You..,” San paused in his tracks, turning around to give you a hard stare, eyes clouded with conflict. His lips parted, before they pressed into a thin line, shoulders tense with anger, “If you think I’m going to sit back and hope one of my best friends won’t die in the hands of a monster, then you must’ve lost your mind.”

The words stung, but you knew that was his irrational side taking over. A part of you knew you couldn’t blame him for rash behavior he’s grown from being around someone as horrid as his father, “You’re going to show me where he is, before I take this to the King and have that beast slaughtered.”

You were in for a lot of shit, and you didn’t know who to be afraid of most. San, for keeping this information away from him? Wooyoung, who made you promise you wouldn’t speak of this? Yeosang, who wasn’t that quite fond of you? Or King Hongjoong, who followed in the footsteps of his father, abiding by all the laws the older has set for the people.

When San stumbled into the cave, gently prying you off, his eyes burning with rage as he searched for a familiar head of purple, “Wooyoung!”

Flashes of confusion, betrayal, and anger sparked within Wooyoung’s eyes as he noticed the two of you, his eyes sending you a silent question as you noticed the glimmer of Yeosang’s tail underneath the dark waters.

‘You have gone crazy, haven’t you?’

Wooyoung chose to ignore him, pushing past his shoulder with the books he borrowed from the library tucked underneath his arm. If he recognized the baldric fastened on San’s torso, he made no implication of it. A furious hand clamped onto his shoulder, swiveling him back to face the the seething swordsman. San threateningly leaned into Wooyoung’s face, eyes raging with an inferno of anger and hostility. The purple haired male hesitantly bought a hand up to tug at the collar of his tunic, but San’s eyes already took note of the purple marks on the column of the boy’s flesh, “Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t tell me he was intimate with it too!?”

“San,” you called out in annoyance, “Stop. He’s safe, you see? I told you Yeosang means no ha—”

A sudden flash of silver made you reel back in shock, your eyes widening at the sight of San brandishing his sharpened sword, the tip barely grazing the siren’s nose as the two froze to stare each other down. Wooyoung dropped the book he carried in surprise arms flying out to tug San’s weapon back, his own orbs furiously staring his friend down.

“Yeosang, leave!” You shouted amongst the commotion of your two friends, stepping around them to lightly push at Yeosang’s shoulders deeper into the water, “You’ll get killed! Leave!”

“Don’t underestimate me, little human. You’re going to regret the day you were born.”

Your eyes widened at the sight of his parted lips, swiftly rushing back to the other two, but you couldn’t call San in time to warn him, “Cover your-”

The sword clattered against the small boulders beneath San’s feet, eyes unfocused as the melodic sound of the siren’s call echoed within the walls of the cave, filling his ears. Wooyoung stared at his best friend’s face in shock, eyes flickering down to the sword, before he gazed at Yeosang in realization. He hesitantly watched San turn around in Yeosang’s direction, before he quickly wrapped a hand around the ebony haired male’s waist, tugging him back harshly,’Yeosang! Stop! I won’t let you kill him!’

Yeosang paid no mind to his friend’s protests, amused eyes flickering from both San and yourself, who struggled on maintaining your ears clamped with your hands. He raised his voice, lips quirking as your hands fell limp against your sides, eyes locked on the vast space in front of you. His hands itched at the thought of ripping the two of you apart from the inside out.

‘Yeosang! Stop!’

Yeosang’s voice was clearer than bells, and so devastatingly, hauntingly beautiful in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to listen to it for years to come. Wooyoung’s panic stricken eyes flew over to your form as you trudged through the waist deep water, eyes unfocused and lips parted. He struggled to maintain a firm grip on San’s figure, who continuously clawed at the arms securing him in place.

Throwing San back against the mossy wall of the cave, Wooyoung madly dashed to tackle Yeosang down into the water, immediately ceasing his singing. The siren hissed in retaliation, nails dragging down the flesh of the hands clamped onto his mouth. He furiously swung his tail against Wooyoung’s ankles, pulling him down into the water. Snapping out of your trance, you were quick on your feet to help San up, hastily gripping the heavy sword away from his grasp. When he demanded you to hand it to him, Wooyoung shoved the both of you in the direction of cave’s entrance, furiously signing to leave immediately.

‘I’ll be fine! Just leave!’

A clawed hand reached out to slash at San, and out of instinct, you shoved yourself in between him and the siren, claws latching onto your ankle. Your immediate response was to pull away, flesh tearing underneath the sharp nails, a hiss leaving your lips as the salt in the ocean doing nothing to ease the pain of your opened wounds.

Wooyoung wrestled the siren down, hands clamped around his mouth, while he shot you two a look over his shoulder, eyes wild and void of any patience. San scoffed, hand wrapping around your waist to hoist you up on your good leg, eyes narrowed furiously,”You should have never stopped me from killing it–” “Shut up, San. If you had listened to me, we wouldn’t have been in—”

You emitted a groan of pain as your wounded leg brushed against the protruding edge of a rocky sides of the cave, hissing underneath your breath as you gripped San’s forearm to ease your mind off the burning sensation. Finally stumbling down onto the pebbled floor of the shore, you paused as San pulled away from you, “You go get help, and I’ll go back and-”

“You are not going back there! He will kill you, San. Get that through your thick head.”

“He nearly killed you, (y/n)! We left Wooyoung with that monster!”

“He’ll be okay, I promise. Wooyoung will be fine,” you groaned at the sight of red running down your ankle and soaking the sand underneath your foot,”Please, just fucking listen to me for once!” He stilled at your raised voice, and your eyes widened suddenly at the change of his demeanor. You quickly grasped his elbows, attempting to look him in the eye, “Oh, San- no. No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling- I forgot-”

“We should get your leg checked out,” he quipped firmly, avoiding your gaze as he proceeded to push you in the general direction of town, his shoulders and jaw tense with unresolved tension and anger.

— It was midnight, and Wooyoung still hadn’t returned home. Your one room living space felt too vacant without him sleeping on the top bunk bed you shared. Your ankle throbbed beneath the thick bandages, the smell of herbal ointment prominent even underneath the heavy layers of cloth.

You tossed and turned in your sheets for what felt like hours. The exhaustion and worry that clouded your mind prevented you from falling asleep. You quickly sat up, reached to light your oil lamp, before making your way out of your home to wander restlessly in the desolate streets, hoping to find the purple haired male.

You paused once you stepped around the corner of San’s neighborhood. Broken and discarded glass decorated the floor near his feet where he sat against the entryway of his home. The door hung by its hinges, splintered and shattered in some areas. You nearly dropped your lamp as you rushed towards the disheveled male, whose half-buttoned up, bloodied shirt, revealed glimpses of jagged scars left from his duels. Your eyes studied his visage, brows knitting in concern at the familiar, ghostly frown. His eyes spared you the briefest of looks before he dropped his gaze down to his bloody hands. Dried tear streaks and specks of red decorated his ghostly visage. The faint barking of a dog was heard streets away.

“It’s not mine. None of it is mine,” he mumbled, noticing your stunned gaze at the sight of red.

“They fought again?” you asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded silently, arms limp at his sides, “.. and she ran away again?” Another nod, and suddenly he found himself engulfed in your hold, tears streaming down his face as he held you close, face buried against the crown of your head. His resolve shatter quicker than any glass.

“I- .. I was angry, (y/n). I fought with him,” His voice was small and wavering, jumbled thoughts spilling rapidly from his lips,”the medics took him. He called me a bloodthirsty killer– but I’m..was it was defense? That’s not considered killing, right?” His breathing quickened, chest heaving as he struggled to steady his air flow, voice rising an octave as panic laced his tone,” “I’m not a killer, am I (y/n)? I am nothing like him,” his fingers tugged at his untamed hair in frustration, pupils quivering rapidly as he attempted to calm his racing and frantic heart, “I will never be anything like him. I need you to tell me that. Tell me I’m nothing like him!”

You pulled him inside and onto the couch, stepping over the fallen furniture, splintered wood, broken flower vases, and torn, embroidered, floral tapestries that littered the floor. Your eyes caught sight of a fallen, bloodied sword you recognized from San’s practices. Cold dinner filled plates lay broken near the flipped table. You held onto your broken friend throughout the night, consoling him repeatedly and wiping away his tears. You pressed numerous kisses onto his face, your hand running through his locks as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, years of agony apparent in his loud, torturous cries muffled against your skin. The sounds made your skin crawl in the most unpleasant way. You paused only when you noted the change in pattern of his breathing, indicating his deep slumber. Your eyes glanced at the full moon out the window, only praying that both Wooyoung and Mrs. Choi were alright.

—

Wooyoung was curled onto one of the higher rocks of the cave, fast asleep. He refused to return back home, not yet ready or willing to face his friends. Droplets of seawater pelting his face startled him awake, and he sat up in confusion at the sudden sensation. This definitely do not look like the ceiling of his home. His eyes snap down to search for Yeosang, the memories from hours ago vividly etching themselves back into his mind.

His eyes locked on someone else’s- a woman’s- and his eyes could only stare back in shock at the sight of San’s mother of all people in the cave, struggling to pry a raging Yeosang off of her.

‘Yeosang! Stop! Don’t kill her! I know her-’

‘You say that about every rat of a human, don't you?’

Only when Yeosang turned to snap the intruder’s neck in half, he paused at the gleam of her necklace. His gills contracted as he gazed at the intricately carved pendant resting on the older woman’s clavicles, “Where did you get that, filthy human?” he hissed, fins and rays flaring out ferociously, his long and sharp teeth snapping at the rage in his tone,”That necklace is for my people. My clan.”

“A friend gave it to me,” the lady explained, hand protectively clutching the pendant and out of Yeosang’s sight. He glowered menacingly at her, eyes still holding numerous silent questions. His eyes glanced down at her blue and purple marred neck and décolletage, “You.. you resemble him so much. My friend. This used to be our hang out spot years ago. His name was Yeohan. Did you know him?”

Yeosang jerked back suddenly, and from Wooyoung’s spot and the darkness engulfing the cave, he could hardly make out the movements of their lips. He scrambled to climb down the rocks, making his way over, legs frantically splashing in the water.

‘Yeosang? What’s wrong?’

“How do you know my father!? He died-”

“Twenty years ago,” Mrs. Choi finished for him, his eyes growing wide with shock at the woman’s affirmation,”The king killed him for the coming-of-age ritual. He wears his coat to this day. The moment I saw you, I knew you had to have been his offspring. The resemblance is uncanny.”

“You think I don’t know the evil things you’ve done to my people?” The siren spat, “I don’t need you telling me what crimes your kind has committed-”

“I will get it back for you. His coat. I’ll return it to you here by dawn.” Silence enveloped the two as the sea creature stared with a gaping mouth at the human.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What purpose would that serve you? Certainly, not out of kindness?”

She only offered him a sad smile. — You adjusted your trousers one last time, before leaning down to brush the hair out of San’s face. He stirred awake from your touch, eyes tired and puffy, “Is it morning?”

You glanced at the dark window, shrugging slightly before turning back to him, “Sort of. I need to deliver the fish to the merchants. I think.. I think you should stay here until I’m back. We can go check on your mom together? Do you want the keys to my place? Go rest there while I’m away.”

He nodded with a soft sigh, hand cupping the one you placed onto his palm,”I’ll stay here to clean up. Don’t take too long, please.”

“I won’t. Just please rest for me, okay? Maybe Wooyoung will come back to visit you here.”

You pressed a firm kiss against his lips, one he gladly reciprocated even in his sleepy state, “Love you.”

You were the first to discover Mrs. Choi’s body. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared you for the sight of a corpse, limp and pale and stuck between a cluster of jagged rocks underneath a cliff. The net of fish you hauled onto your back dropped with a loud thud onto the deck of the docked fishing ship, the sailors and other fisherman yelling at you in shock. It was only when you pointed out the body swaying against the rocks with every wave that they abandoned their work to call a nearby officer. 

Dread, heavy and ugly, filled you to the core, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears drowning out the shouting in the background. Panic worked its way out of every pore on your body, your eyes locked on the floating, dark haired woman,  olive green dress swaying gently in the calm waters of the early morning.

It couldn’t be her.

She wasn’t the only woman in town with such a dress. A glimmer of hope twinkled somewhere inside of you.

Not her. Anyone but her. Upon closer inspection as the officers hauled up the body, you nearly collapsed on sight. A shudder claimed your body in realization, your blood running cold at the sight of her frozen, gaping, her lips a dark hue of blue, forehead marred and slightly dented from where she most likely impacted the rocks. You could only stare silently as the medics hauled the body up on a stretcher, placing it in the back of a large wagon, the sound of hooves hitting the rocky pavement indicating its departure.

Just how on earth are you planning on letting San know?

—

Hours later, after arguing continuously with the medics, protesting how you needed to see the body, they ultimately refused, even calling out to guards to lock you out of the medical wing of the building. The town of Aurora was coiled in chaos at the announcement of the corpse found near the docks. The councilmen furiously argued amongst each other as the crowd grew bigger in the town’s square, right beneath the large clock tower. Curious people joined along in confusion at the sudden, early commotion, some propping their windows open to tend to their clothe lines and watch with bewildered eyes.

You stood amongst the crowd, fists clenching repeatedly whilst maintaining your flaring emotions. You pondered whether or not you should stick around or go and inform San, when one of the royal family’s servants ordered the towns councilmen to the town hall for an immediate meeting with the current and former king. You turned to race towards the aforementioned building, only for a hand to grip you in place. Turning, your heart leaped in your throat at the solemn looking San. He made no move forward, and all you could do was silently gape, unsure of how you were going to break the news to him, “Couldn’t sleep. I know. The neighbors told me when I went back to check the library,” he calmly explained over the hordes of bodies shoving and pushing past the two of you. Amongst the rush of civilians, you embraced him with trembling arms, your brows knitting in anger as you buried your face into his brown tunic.

You grasped his hand in hopes of comforting him while the two of you waited amongst the crowd in the town hall for the appearance of the King and his father. He held you close, chin resting against the crown of your head. You can tell he was in shock, his grief yet to be surfaced as he held you silently. His eyes were heavy with years of turmoil and anguish, all underneath the hands of one, grimy man. Knowing him, deep down, he most likely will never find it in him to forgive himself for not chasing after his broken mother last night. It will haunt him for years to come.

King Hongjoong appeared, seated in the middle of the large bench, his father to his right. Other noblemen also sat beside the two rulers. A medical examiner spoke rapidly in hushed whispers to the white haired male, whilst pointing to several parchments of paper. The King’s brows knitted the more the examiner spoke, and he nodded solemnly, a hand reaching up to dismiss the two medical staff. A gloved hand pinched the bridge of his nose, his charcoal hues flickering to the side to glance at his father, whose stoic expression did not twitch in the slightest at the barren news. 

The Commander of the Royal Guards barked at the restless crowd of people gathered into the large room to have respect for the King, and the silence that followed suit was deafening. King Hongjoong cleared his throat, his hair pristine as usual, although there seemed to be a weight of burden and stress taking a toll on his young features. His eyes were lifeless and dark, a stark contrast to when he was much younger. 

“It’s come to our attention that the body of Mrs. Choi has been found near the harbor. Upon investigation, medical examiners have concluded that cause of death was suicide,” Hongjoong spoke clearly, voice booming in the walls of the building.

You felt San’s grip on your hand tighten, his brows furrowed as he attempted to contain his composure. You saw guilt flash within his orbs, so raw and visible it made you look away, at anything besides his face. It didn’t sound right hearing the words come out from the king’s lips. You knew Mrs. Choi as well as you knew San. There’s no way she would have willingly dove to her death. “Isn’t Mr. Choi also in the hospital for multiple stab wounds?” A voice piped from the crowd. Hongjoong frowned at the sudden interruption, his hands reaching up to adjust his cloak, when another voice spoke up.

“Where is their son? I heard from neighbors that he was the one who stabbed his father,” a middle aged man mused loudly to the crowd.

“Is that why Mrs. Choi killed herself?” a lady joined in now,”Or was her son behind her fall too?”

“What if a siren killed her?”

“Nonsense, we haven’t seen one in the past four years.”

“Then who do you think has been cutting all of our fishing nets and destroying our sails?,” a familiar voice rang out through the hall. The tall male stepped closer to the Commander, before turning to the crowd, and you watched with horror in your eyes at the next few words to slip out of the Minjae’s mouth, “I’ve been telling my dad about the purple-haired boy who’s been meeting with sirens in the cave east of town. I saw the siren with my own eyes. I told you Wooyoung was up to no good. He’s probably selling all of our people’s information to those beasts.”

Hongjoong’s lips parted to speak, anger clearly painting his features, before his father stood up suddenly, gaze hard and unwavering at the Commander. It was then you noticed the lack of cloak on his frame,”Interacting with those beasts is a criminal offense punishable by death. Find me that boy. I want him publicly executed in the town’s square. As for the librarian’s son, find him as well. Lock him in the chambers until I decide what to do with him.”

Hongjoong gaped to the side at his father in disbelief, brows knitting in confusion, his kohl rimmed eyes wide. Mingi, who stood behind the white haired King glanced at the male, shoulders tense at growing chaos infiltrating the room, “Let me make the decisions, Father. I am King, after all.”

San reached down to grip onto your hand, and when his hand curled into nothing but air, his eyes snapped down to find your figure gone. 

“You old bastard!” A sickening crunch, a wave of gasps of disbelief, and your shouting sent the townspeople into a mad frenzy.

—

Wooyoung watched the small fish swim by his feet, nibbling at his toes. He smiled tenderly, feet swishing and kicking at the animals playfully. Off to the side, Yeosang held onto his father’s cloak, so tightly and desperately as if it would disappear,’I told you that lady was nice.’

Yeosang reached up to rub at his wet eyes furiously, golden orbs flickering up to meet the umber colored ones of the male,’I take back my criticism. Maybe there are still some good humans out there. Repeat my words in front of Seonghwa, and I will personally claw out your eyeballs.’

‘If you do, how will I get to see your beautiful face?’ Wooyoung simpered, cheeks flushing slightly at the other’s thoughts. He nodded shyly, fingers reaching to grasp the siren’s hand, thumb caressing the iridescent skin,’Just like how there are sirens with good hearts as well,’ the intimate moment was soon interrupted by a frantic sound of splashing, and Yeosang’s face fell immediately upon the sight of a panic stricken San. Immediately reading the emotions haunting San’s features, Wooyoung stood up, face contorting in confusion as San scrambled to explain the gravity of the situation they were in, both verbally to Yeosang and with hand signs for Wooyoung.

‘They’re going to execute (y/n). Death by drowning.’

Wooyoung swore his heart skipped a beat or two, his eyes wide and hands limp by his sides. Yeosang quietly watched from behind him.

‘(Y/n) attacked the King’s father. They’re planning on executing you too for meeting with Yeosang. And they think I was the one who killed my mother, and they’re hunting for me, too.’

Wooyoung reeled back, the bombardment of shocking news too much for him to handle all at once, but San continued, occasionally fumbling with his hands from the sheer amount of stress surging through his system,’Wooyoung, we need to leave. Now. I’m going to bail (y/n) out, and you’ll wait for us at the west part of town. There’s a boat there. We have no time to waste,” he hastily reached forward to pull his friend up, tugging him forcibly over clusters of ocean rocks.

“In exchange, will you promise me to protect my son?”

It took Yeosang a minute or two to process the woman’s words, before he finally nodded in response, a frown settling on his features, “Only if you keep your end of the promise.” “No. You will join him on the boat and escape. Death by enforced drowning you said?”

—

You glared icily through the dark bars separating your form from the snow haired king. He ushered the guard to give the two of you privacy, and a minute of footsteps later, and the two of you were left alone in the dark chambers of the royal palace, mossy wall cold against your battered back, “What do you want?” you spat rudely, the taste of iron prominent against your busted lips, your bloodied teeth bared as you glowered at him, “If you’re here to give me shut about how I shouldn’t have attacked your swine of a—”

“They’re preparing the ship as we speak,” he cut you off, a hint of amusement dancing in his orbs joined by the flickering fire of the wall mounted sconce illuminating his features. He casted your cuffed hands a glance, before gazing at your bleeding ankle, “So, I came as fast as I could. The guards have already left to hunt down your two friends.”

Dread bled into your form, and your blood ran cold at the sudden gravity of his words. You were going to die. God, you were going to die before properly apologizing to Wooyoung, before holding San one last time, before- “I have a few words to share with you- I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you this soon, so,” you watched him remove the golden coat around his frame, rolling it tightly before placing it down into the cell, “Incase either one of us doesn’t make it.. you know what this is, right?”

“A siren’s coat? Of course, I do. What’s your point?”

A twinge of a smile graced his features at your sharp tone, before his face fell into a solemn expression,”It’s tradition that an heir becomes of age when he or she slays a siren and wears it’s coat as a sign of dignity, bravery, and honor. It’s been the case for many generations before me. My father earned his when he was twenty-three. My mother came from another royal family from Port Hala. They do not hold similar traditions as us, and instead do not meddle or interfere with sirens. When it came for me to sail alone and kill one, at a much younger age than my father was, my mother insisted that our family breaks the tradition. My father, as you can guess, disagreed and left no room for her arguments. She threatened to take me and make a run for it if they forced me into it, and later that night, they found her body not too far from shore. My father informed the public that it was the sirens’ doing, but no one was permitted to see her body. Not even me.”

His eyes drifted to the patch of green on the wall behind you, shaking his head and continuing with a lowered voice, “So, I sailed to uninhabited islands, knowing that there were gentle sirens there, and not like the ones that lurked here amongst humans. I met one, a very young one. He was very adventurous and snuck from his kind to chase his pet octopus and.. he was harmless, unable to hear, thus never really learning how to sing any of the sirens’ songs. He was a very naive, little one. I persuaded him to come on land with me because we were friends, and I ran off with his coat, thinking it would be the last I’ll see him. I never had the courage or heart to kill him, and I never thought he’d wash up into our town, either.”

Whatever air you had left was knocked out straight from your lungs. You knew where this was going. You held his gaze with your widened orbs, bloodied jaw slack from shock.

“I intended to kill him that night he was found, but after the doctors discovered his head injury and lack of memories, other than his name among other things, I chose to spare his life. I was afraid my father and the rest of the town will find out. I was and always will be a coward, even as King of Aurora,” he mused, hands reaching up to adjust his white blouse, “I will be on board the boat taking you to your execution. My bodyguard, Mingi, will join us, along with my father’s right hand man, who was behind Mrs. Choi’s death. She was found stealing my father’s coat, but she managed to slip away before the guards had a chance to retrieve it. My father sent him to do whatever means necessary to punish her for her actions.

I know my father better than anyone else. Without a doubt, I know he was behind her death. (Y/n), please, whatever you do, do not attempt to fight him. Go with the plan. Mingi and I already discussed everything, and he will help you out once you’re dropped from the ship. I don’t plan on allowing my father to return back to town,” his eyes grew dark, the shadows of stress aging his appearance. Your eyes widened at his implications, “And I might not make it out alive. If I don’t, Mingi will give you my coat when he rescues you. I need you to apologize on my behalf if I am unable to. Mingi is a great sailor. His father taught him, so he knows his way around a ship. I want you two to escape to Port Hala as soon as you find Wooyoung, is that understood? Take Choi San with you. Mingi will take you to Yunho and Jongho, two friends of ours who will help you. This town will have your heads if you step foot back here.”

The rush of information was too much for your tired brain to comprehend so quickly. You meekly nodded, cuffed hands reaching to clasp the bars tightly, your eyes never leaving the golden coat he donned on, “Yes, King Hongjoong.” “Hongjoong. Just Hongjoong.”

—

You struggled to maintain the heavy weight of the reinforced cuffs around your wrists, body staggering forward from a boot to your back, your frame crashing into the railing of the large ship. You hissed upon impact, the marks on your ankle bleeding against the bandages. You were roughly tugged by the hair, the bruised face of the former king coming into view as his second in command held you by your disheveled locks, “Helmsman! A bit further and then you can drop the anchor!” The old man boomed, gray tresses tied tightly into a high bun, his charcoal hues burning holes into your head. 

You snuck a glance at Mingi, whose eyes never left your form. His hands gripped the steering wheel harshly, knuckles bone-white. A subtle nod of his head washed a bit of relief over your trembling frame. Hongjoong watched from beside his father, as the man shoved your face into metal railing of the ship, sharp ends of the wood slicing your cheek. A familiar glimmer in the water captured your attention, and your eyes met a pair of golden ones deep under the calm waves of the ocean. Your eyes widened, a gasp threatening to leave your lips.

The ship finally came to a halt, and a pair of shiny, leather boots invaded your vision. You glowered at the king from your position on the deck, cheekbones bruised and lip split. You spat onto his shoes, blood splattering on his ironed, white trousers. Charcoal hues void of any empathy stared down at you, before the former king’s hand reached down to tug you up by the collar of your shirt, his crown sparkling under the bright sun. You shared a look with a tense Hongjoong who remained back, his hands clenching into fists, before you were bought back to reality as the older man slammed your back against the railing, pushing you up, your frame dangerously tilting over the edge, “After my kingdom has sacrificed so much for you stupid orphans, this is how you return the favor?” he growled, the strands of his beard tickling your forehead as he gripped your jaw with his other hand, “You will wish I had just shot you when the sirens rip you apart limb by limb. Your screams of agony will sound like a beautiful melody to my ears.”

Your eyes locked with golden ones, and you couldn’t help but reflect back on the time you confronted him in the cave.

“Why do I kill you treacherous humans?” he laughed at your question, your eyes narrowing as a result. He grasped the moving whelk on the rock, clawed fingers crushing it as his gaze never left your own, “Easy. Your King took my father away from me.”

The gruff man released his hands from your collar to swivel you around, but you hastily threw your arms out to reach his head, your vision unclear with unkempt and bloody strands of your hair. The link on your cuffs latched onto the back of his neck, and you tugged him towards you roughly, hoping gravity will be of assistance. Your frames tipped down and your lips quirked up without you realizing it. The last thing you saw before you plummeted down to the blue waters was Mingi’s and Hongjoong’s shocked faces, the latter’s frame already rushing forward to try and reach you with an extended hand. The three of you were definitely expecting this outcome You dove head first into the ocean, the elderly man beside you only feet away. Your attempts to swim up to the surface proved futile as the weights of the cuffs around your ankles and wrists succumbed to gravity. A purple tail smacked your side, and you came face to face with a familiar visage, the air escaping your lungs in bubbles. Rough claws tugged on the metal chains and cuffs, and after a few attempts, the metal snapped under the pressure. 

“Wrap your arms around my neck. Don’t try anything funny, or this time I will kill you,” the purple-tailed siren growled, turning his head to glance at the other siren who seemed to enjoy circling around the man who seemed to panic at the sight of the being across from him. Golden eyes studied the old man struggling to swim up to the surface.

You desperately gasped for air once breaching the surface of the water, arms loosely wrapped around the back of the other’s neck. He paid you no mind as he carefully watched his friend’s head surface, golden eyes trained on the white haired man yelling up at the others on board to save him. 

Hongjoong’s eyes were void of any empathy as he casually crossed his arms on the railing, leaning forward and blinking in response to his father’s shouts. He spared you a second to gaze at your form, relief melting his stoic features slightly. Beside him, the second in command made an attempt to shoot at the blonde siren silently staring at the former leader, the barrel of his pistol gleaming in the sunlight. 

“Drop it,” the deep voice of the red-head was heard from behind Hongjoong, his own pistol resting against the against the man’s temple. Hongjoong didn’t bat an eyelash as Mingi overpowered the other, threatening to shoot if he didn’t comply.

“Are you crazy!? The beast is going to kill him, and all you’re doing is watching!? You’re a sorry excuse of a king- you! You have never had the power to walk in your father’s foots-” his cries were muffled against the cold, metallic barrel of Mingi’s pistol pressing against the back of his throat.

Yeosang’s gaze met Hongjoong’s, who spared him a glance before returning back to the gasping man, his hands clawing at the ship’s hull with desperate shouts.

“Don’t you recognize me, you bastard?”

The elder’s head turned to peer at the creature with fear-filled eyes, his legs beginning to tire after the long waking minutes of staying afloat.

“A disgusting beast that preys on human flesh,” the other growled, hands stabilizing his form against the ship. His intricately embroidered vest sparkled despite it being wet, dark orbs burning holes into the siren.

Seonghwa’s brows knitted as an undecipherable look washed over Yeosang’s features, his jaw tight, gills rapidly contracting. There was a raging storm within those golden hues Seonghwa hasn’t seen in a very, very long time. Yeosang’s lips twitched convulsively, a crazed look suddenly taking over his visage.

 A humorless, sarcastic laugh escaped his throat, shoulders shaking and brows knitting in confusion as he swam closer to the trembling man, “Take a good look at me! Tell me who I am!” he barked, the rays and fins on his neck flaring in the most menacing of ways, bared teeth gleaming like the ocean’s pearls.

The white haired man drew a breath, his lips parting as he glanced once more at the trembling siren, charcoal hues flashing with recognition suddenly, “You.. you’re the son? You’re his son.”

“The one you tried to kill!,” a howl of laughter left Yeosang’s mouth, as his head dipped back to gaze at a stunned Hongjoong, “Fate is quite hilarious, do you agree? Huh?” Clawed hands struck the ship’s hull, chipping the wood and creating furrows on the surface as Yeosang inched closer, “I was forced to watch my father protect me from you, only for you to kill him in front of my eyes. How brave of you to go after a four year old siren. And now, look at you, you poor, pathetic bastard,” his clawed hand reached forward to grab a fistful of white hair, roughly tugging the man’s head back to meet the gaze of his son, “Not even your son is willing to save you.”

“Shoot him this instant, you bastard! What are you doing staring at me like that!?”

Hongjoong remained as still as a statue, cold gaze unwavering. You swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch. There was a silent acknowledgement of understanding as Yeosang locked gazes with Hongjoong one last time.

“He’ll rather watch as I skin you alive. You don’t deserve the mercy of being under my song’s spell, no..” he shot his arm out, smashing the man’s face against the side of the ship, agonized howls of laughter switching to manic shouting whilst repeating the action, “No, I want you to feel everything. You’re going to feel every inch of your skin being peeled away. A coat for a coat, yes?”

A blob  of saliva flew and splattered against Yeosang’s face, dripping down to the blue waters. 

You jolted as the siren you held onto suddenly gyrated in the other direction, ripping your gaze from the scene as sounds of flesh squelching and tendons tearing came from behind. 

Seonghwa decided it will be best not to stick around to see the outcome, knowing fully well what Yeosang is capable of. He readjusted you onto his back, before commanding you to take a deep breath. An involuntary shiver ran down your spine as the pained cries of the former king were washed out with the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears. 

You were then enveloped in the dark waters of the ocean, the siren rapidly swimming yards away, surfacing for the briefest of moments in order for you to breathe. You had no chance to even ask him where he was taking you, and your mind could only wonder what Hongjoong was feeling at the moment. You were beyond exhausted, both mentally and physically. Your squinted eyes caught glimpses of the clouds of marine life that you hastily rocketed past, arms subconsciously tightening around the dark haired siren.

When the siren breached the surface, you gasped for air, your arms tightly coiled around his neck, causing him to wince and attempt to shrug you off, “Here’s the runt, as promised,” he growled, arms swiftly prying you off and shoving you forward to two other pairs. You stumbled into a tiny dinghy boat, mind too stunned to return the hugs that you were immediately enveloped in. It was the moment when fingers swiped at your cheeks that you realized you were crying, sobs of relief wracking your frame as you wrapped your arms around the other two men, struggling to explain what happened.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot up as San pulled you in for a kiss, an incredulous look meeting his features. Seonghwa grimaced in the water, his head turning as he mumbled something about how disgusting humans were. San shared an apologetic look towards the flustered Wooyoung, whose eyes wouldn’t stop flickering between the two of you for an answer.

‘I’ll explain later, promise,’ the ebony haired male signed, before he was forced to meet your gaze.

“We have to go back. I need to see the King,” you stated after the three of you pulled apart. Wooyoung paused whilst speaking with Seonghwa telepathically, eyes flickering to an angered San who grabbed the pair of oars from your hands, “San!”

“Are you crazy!?” He breathed out, “We’re leaving! We want nothing to do with this town any longer, (y/n). Wooyoung and I already made amends with Yeosang. We’re only waiting for him before we escape. I’m not letting you go back there, not after all the trouble we went through to get you here in the first place.” “You don’t understand!” you tried, stammering on your words, unable to conjugate any proper sentence, “Hongjoong helped me! He knows about your mother’s death- her killer! He’s on board,” you tugged San’s shirt desperately, “Hongjoong knows about Wooyoung, too! Before he came to our town! He can explain everything, please. We need to get to him. There’s no one else on board besides them, San.”

Wooyoung’s brows shot up as Seonghwa explained every word that was exchanged, his hues trained on San’s stunned expression.

A sigh left the siren’s lips.

“Yeosang owes me a lot for putting up with this shit,” Seonghwa grumbled, arms already working to push the dinghy back to where he rescued you, your words ringing in his ears like an echo. How did Yeosang manage to find three crazy humans- and what sea god decided to curse Seonghwa with this fate.

Tattered, white and gold, embroidered fabric littered the water around the blonde siren, bloodied, clawed fingers tracing the bejeweled crown in his hands, a solemn expression on his features. A heavy weight seemed to dissipate off the siren’s shoulders as an amused chuckle racked his frame, remembering the horror stricken cries of his father’s murderer.

The sight of a tiny boat in the distance caught the siren’s attention, and his golden hues narrowed in suspicion at the sight. This was not part of their plan at all. As it neared, his eyes bore heavily into Wooyoung for an explanation, flickering to San and then onto you, before he glared at an unamused Seonghwa, most likely exchanging heated words through their minds. You called out to Hongjoong to send down a rope ladder, and the white haired male’s head peeked up hastily at the sound of your voice. If San wasn’t trembling in rage beside you, you would’ve laughed at the expression on the young king’s features.

“Yeosang, are you okay?”

“You better have a reasonable explanation for this,” Yeosang stated, turning his attention to Seonghwa, whose eyes never left the crown in his hands.

A part of you wasn’t surprised at the sight of a bound and cuffed man on the ship’s deck, a bored Mingi towering over him with his dagger unsheathed.

“I had a feeling you’ll return here,” Hongjoong nodded in acknowledgement in your direction, before facing San, his expression sincere as he explained the reasoning behind his mother’s death. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks, darkening the wood beneath his feet as his eyes zeroed in on the gagged soldier feet away.

 Wooyoung’s hand clasped San’s, his heart aching for his friend. Guilt licked the edges of consciousness, regretting not asking her to stay with him and Yeosang back in the cave. If only he had, she would have been alive. Even after explaining to San, the older denying that it was Wooyoung’s fault, he still couldn’t help but feel like her blood was on his hands.

“I give you full permission to do as you wish with him,” Hongjoong squeezed his shoulder, his hand placing a long dagger in San’s palms. Your widened eyes flickered between San and the King. Wooyoung tugged you back, hands gripping your own. His eyes carefully studied San’s frozen expression, fingers twitching against the weapon in his hands, “I’m willing to do it if you don’t want to, of course.”

Mrs. Choi’s killer only shook like a leaf in the wind underneath Mingi’s feet, wild eyes watching the exchange.

San was quick to shake his head, walking past a bleak looking Hongjoong. Steady strides later, and the ebony haired male crouched down eye level towards the trembling soldier, whose eyes glared ferociously at the blank faced Mingi, “You,” he took a deep breath in, tongue darting out to lick a stripe against his chapped lips, “I bet you enjoyed killing an innocent woman, didn’t you?” A flick of silver, and the man winced at the thin, bleeding scrape on his cheek,”Answer me!”

Another flick of the dagger, and the binds gagging the man ripped into two, beads of red escaping the slice on his trembling lips, “King Kim ordered me to! The woman stole his coat! I was only following orders!” 

Hongjoong laughed from feet away, his boots stomping against the deck as he made his way over to the three men, arms crossed over his white blouse, “Mingi, do you think this poor excuse of a soldier hit his head on his way here? Who is the King of Aurora.”

“You, King Hongjoong,” Mingi quipped, a smile threatening his stony expression.

“And who should the soldiers take orders from?”

“You, King Hongjoong. Only you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes dulled as he shoved the tip of his boot into the man’s gaping mouth, pressing down against the back of his throat with hard shoves,”How silly of me. He was only following orders, though. He’s right. One must always follows the orders of a King,” his lips quirked up as he lowered his head to chuckle at the gagging man, his smile borderline manic, “San, as King, I order you to kill him.”

The man’s muffled cries against Hongjoong’s boot had no affect on San, whose hands trembled the longer he stared at him. Hongjoong urged him to go on, kicking the man away with a swift attack to his jaw, his face scrunching up in disgust at the saliva glistening on the leather.

Rays of sunlight gleamed against the edge of the dagger as San raised it high above the fallen’s neck, his hand plunging down despite the man’s strangled cries of protest.

“You’re no better than me, you son of a whore. You take joy in hurting others, don’t you? Will you get off to the fact that you’ll kill me? Will your mommy be proud of you, then?”

The man trembled, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head in shock as the dagger impaled into the wooden deck, splintering it upon impact. Moments of silence passed, the gentle breeze caressing San’s indifferent visage, dark hues hollow as he gazed down at the crying man. Hongjoong watched the retreating figure of San, before giving the sobbing man a glance over, “You’re pathetic. What did he ever see in you, anyway?” The soldier backed against the railing of the ship, profusely apologizing and bowing to Hongjoong. He turned on his heels, arm lazily coming up to wave back as he watched you console and cup San’s face in concern, “Let the sirens decide his fate.”

He ignored the agonized cries, the clanging of metal, and the loud splash seconds later, his smile gentle as he took your disheveled appearance in, “That was some stunt you pulled earlier. You saved me getting my hands dirty,” he chuckled at your expression, the scene reminiscent of the time he found the three of you in the street in the middle of shopping. 

Mingi could be heard in the background giving an approval to someone down below, and seconds later, gargled screams invaded the comfortable silence. You flashed him a small smile, fingers instinctively reaching up to give him a mock salute, “Still getting rid of rats for you, your majesty.”

An affectionate twinkle danced in his eyes as he shook his head in amusement, a hand reaching to ruffle your wet locks, “Always a loyal soldier to my kingdom, I see,” his charcoal hues flickered to Wooyoung, a sheepish expression taking over his visage, “Now I need your help getting my words through, if you don’t mind.”

You nodded, breathless as you quickly signed Hongjoong’s words to the lavender haired male, shock washing the latter’s features at the King’s words, “I hope you find it in yourself to one day forgive me, although I know I do not deserve as much for everything I have put you through,” his hands reached up to remove the coat he wore, before he presented it to the stunned male, “I believe this belongs to you, Wooyoung.”

Trembled hands slowly gripped the golden coat, his eyes peering over at San and yourself for approval. San nodded, brows knitted anxiously as he hesitantly nodded. Wooyoung tugged it on, glancing down to examine the shiny, golden material. Head snapping up, Wooyoung had only a millisecond to gauge your reaction, before the King’s hands forcefully shoved him over the railing of the tall ship, your gasp merging with San’s yelp of shock.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

Your hands clutched the railing, eyes searching the blue waters for any sign of your friend. Yeosang and Seonghwa peered at you from the other side in confusion when you propped a leg up onto the metal, preparing to dive in, when a laugh echoed in your ear, arms tugging you back, “Calm down! He’ll show up in three, two..”

Your squirming figure halted as you stared down in bewilderment at the purple haired male staring back at you from the gentle sways of the waves. Gold pectoral fins and rays shimmered on his neck, and he looked down to study the matching fins on his forearms, jolting in surprise at the lack of legs. His head snapped to his left, where two other sirens gaped, seeming paler than they were minutes ago.

Yeosang’s eyes snapped to you, his gaze already telling you he’s going to demand answers as soon as he’s in earshot. 

San stood to your side, his eyes not leaving Wooyoung’s frame as he experimentally swam towards Yeosang and Seonghwa, both of whom hesitantly reached out to graze their clawed hands onto his tail, most likely wondering if it was real, “That’s why he was able to hear them..” you whispered softly, hands reaching up to rub at your eyes, before you cried loudly, startling the man beside you as you climbed onto the railing, arms waving madly at the three sirens, “Tell him I said he’s the prettiest siren I’ve ever seen!”

San grumbled underneath his breath, arms wrapping protectively around your waist to prevent you from falling over, “Can you try and not give me another heart attack, you bum.”

You and San returned to the tiny dinghy, your hands immediately reaching forward to touch and examine Wooyoung’s form in awe while San frantically explained everything to the impatient Yeosang. Wooyoung shot you a bashful look as you traced the gold rays and fins on his neck, before you peered closely at his now sharpened canines and iridescent, tan skin. He playfully attempted to bite your finger as you prodded his lip upwards. 

‘You look like a diamond now.’ 

Someone cleared their throat, and the three of you turned to look up at a sheepish looking Hongjoong, who clutched the ship’s rope ladder, his frame facing you. Wooyoung’s head snapped up moments later.

“I know you said you already made plans to escape the town but.. I wouldn’t mind having the best swordsman of Aurora join me and Mingi on this ship,” Two pairs of brows raised in surprise at the suggestion, your eyes snapping to meet San’s instantly. The king turned to you, his half-unbuttoned, white blouse swaying with the gentle breeze, his eyes kind and warm.

“You’re not going back to Aurora?” you asked quietly, feeling San’s fingers coiling with your own.

“No,” he mused, chuckling at the sight of Mingi’s discarded tight, golden, guard coat onto the water below, “Mingi and I made a promise when we were younger, to one day escape and put our past lives behind. I have no future in Aurora, and certainly not you three after everything you’ve pulled. Even with my word, I can’t guarantee your safety from the noblemen in the town, so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, boot tapping the wooden deck, “I am in dire need of a swordsman and a..” he paused, studying you in silence, unable to conjure up a position.

“I’ll get rid of the rats on your ship, King Hongjoong,” you said suddenly, frame rushing forward to lean over the dinghy, face scrunched in all seriousness.

His hand shielded his face as soft chuckles wracked his frame, your shoulders slumping down while even San shot you a somewhat amused look, “Of course. You can be the designated rat killer. We also need to patch up that nasty cut on your ankle.” 

Yeosang grimaced at the words, eyes hesitantly casting you a glance from where he floated.

“Wooyoung will come with us too, right?” You turned to glance at your friend, who clearly understood what was going on with the shocked and anxious expression he wore. Yeosang’s golden eyes snapped to you in an instant, a bitter frown tugging his lips down, “Wooyoung is part of our family. We can’t just leave him behind, siren or not.”

“He belongs in the ocean. He’s a siren,” quipped Yeosang, eyes darkening,”His place is in the water.”

“He’s family,” you argued back, eyes narrowing at the teal-tailed siren,”Whatever you two had going on was nice and all- but he’s still part of our family. We’re not leaving him behind. Siren or not, he’s still Wooyoung.”

“Maybe you should let him decide that.”

“Two good friends of mine in Port Hala are expecting us soon, actually. We’ll just drop by months in advance– they won’t mind, I’m sure,” Hongjoong leaned back against the hemp ladder, head tilting back and allowing the sunshine to envelop his delicate features, lips gracefully parting as he took sight of the sirens,”I think we have room for three more, as well.”

San shared a look of bewilderment with you, before looking back at the white haired male, who straightened up to quirk a brow at you, “Siren got your tongue?” Wooyoung’s eyes met your own before he gazed at Yeosang with a tearful, apologetic gaze. 

Family cannot be replaced.

An airy gasp left your lips as his clawed hands reached to grasp the dinghy, before hauling himself into the boat with San’s help. You rushed to envelop him in a tight hug, face buried against the fins on his neck, San following suit moments later. Yeosang peered silently from the water, a hard look settling on his features, jaw tight and brows knitted.

His eyes flickered to San subconsciously.

“Yes,” he whispered, nodding with a wistful expression across his visage , “I’ll protect your son.”

The women’s sad eyes flickered to Wooyoung and then back to the siren, “Please, protect all three of them. I consider them my children as well.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I’m going wherever Wooyoung is going,” Yeosang quipped defensively, “Seonghwa is coming too.”

“What-” a startled cry left the other’s lips, his bewildered eyes boring holes into Yeosang’s head, “I never agreed to this ridiculous change of plans. A human cannot ever be trusted, Yeosang. You know better than that.”

Conflict flickered in the golden hues, gaze trained onto the black haired siren, until a voice from above caught his attention,” We’ll have rules against touching anyone’s coats if that helps. Anyone who touches or takes your coats will be thrown overboard with no questions asked. I can guarantee that,” Hongjoong simpered, nodding his head confidently. 

“Are you really leaving?” Seonghwa gritted to Yeosang, the latter nodding his head in affirmation, “You stubborn bastard.”

“You finally have the opportunity to travel to all seven seas, and you’re going to throw it away just like that?” Yeosang quirked a brow, a knowing smile suddenly finding itself on his features as Seonghwa gives him an unimpressed look, “Besides, he’s certainly earned my trust after everything that’s happened.”

“Don’t use that against me.”

“You’ve wanted to since you were young. Guess I’ll just go live your dream then,” he shrugged absentmindedly, turning to flash Wooyoung a smile, “I’ll send you a seashell as-”

“Shut up already,” Seonghwa ran a hand through his dark locks, suddenly snapping his attention to the other humans, “If I ever find you trying to steal my coat, I’ll slice you and use your flesh as fish bait.”

San paled at the threat, and Hongjoong barked out a laugh, “You heard him, crew. Now, I suggest you all to come on board before the noblemen send an armada after us for not returning back to town.”

He blinked at the gaping, fearful expressions.

“That’s an order!”

You startled at the sudden volume, hand scrambling up to salute, San peering over at you in utter confusion, not knowing whether he should bow or salute, awkwardly doing both simultaneously.

“Yes, King Hongjoong!”

A streak of gold whizzed over your head, and at the sound of a splash behind you, your head snapped in surprise at the crownless man, a smirk displayed on his sharp features, “That’s Captain Hongjoong to you.”

[labyrinthof-fan-fiction]

Fever {1}

Series Masterlist

A/N: I rewatched the movies and had an overwhelming need to write the story in ways that I would have liked to see it play out. I am a firm Team Jacob and will be for this fic, there will be Edward bashing. If you don’t like it, don’t read it.

In regards to the wolves, I will be leaning more into the werewolf/shapeshifter mythology, rather than the Quileute storyline that Meyer wrote, I don’t feel that I would do their stories justice, and also just don't like the way Meyer handled any part of their story so I will just be playing with Meyer’s characters. If you’re interested in the Quileute histories or able to donate to their school relocation to help them move their school to higher ground, I’ve included some websites.

Quileute Nation Website: https://quileutenation.org/

Truth vs. Twilight: https://www.burkemuseum.org/static/truth_vs_twilight/facts-01.html

Move to Higher Ground Tribal School Relocation: mthg.org

Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Abandonment

Summary: Starting in New Moon, what would have happened if Jacob imprinted on Bella? What if she would have chosen him after Edward left? What if she went to therapy?

Rating: M

Word Count: 2,049

I was cold, so fucking cold. And empty, I was empty. The trees overhead were swallowing me as the sun sank. He was gone, I was alone, he just left. He never loved me, I was just a momentary amusement. Cold was seeping into my bones as I lay on the forest floor, waiting for the sky to turn black and for the night to consume me. Rain started, it was cold.The rain started mingling with the warm tears that had rolled down my cheeks.

My world is not for you. I don’t want you to come with me. This will be the last time you see me. Goodbye, Bella. An endless loop of his voice repeated these statements in my mind. It wouldn’t stop, I just wanted it to stop. Then a voice interrupted me, “Isabella Swan? Have you been hurt? Did he hurt you?” Then warmth surrounded me.

“He’s gone, he left. I’m alone.” I groaned, burrowing into the warmth, but it wasn’t enough warmth. I needed more. He kept walking until we broke the tree line and he called out to a swarm of people. “I’ve got her!”

Charlie was yelling my name. “Bella?!” I felt his hands on my face. “I can take her.”

“Charlie?” I whimpered.

“I’m right here, baby, I’m here.” Charlie’s voice soothed.

“Charlie, I can bring her inside.” The voice murmured.

“Please, Sam, let me take her.”Sam, so that was the disembodied voice’s name. I whined as I was passed away from the warmth and into Charlie’s arms.

“I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” Charlie murmured, I could hear him puff his breath as we entered the house, he set me down gingerly on the couch. “Sam, blankets are at the top of the stairs, in the cupboard. Doc’s gonna check you out okay?” He asked, brushing hair out of my face, my fingers still shaking. I felt a blanket set on my shoulders, I pulled it close as Dr. Gerandy walked into my line of sight.

“Hello, Miss Swan. I’m here to do a quick check up. Just make sure you’re okay. Do you know where you are?”

“Home.” I mumbled.

“Do you know who is here?” He asked, flashing a light in my eyes.

“Charlie, Sam, and you, Dr. Gerandy.” I answered.

He smiled. “And what happened in the woods? Are you hurt?” He placed his hand on my forehead.

“I…I tried to follow after him. He just left, he doesn’t want me anymore. I’m nothing.” I mumbled.

“Bella, baby, did Edward Cullen do this?” Charlie asked, kneeling down next to me.

“He left, he’s gone. I’m alone.” Then the tears started and I couldn’t hold them back. Charlie’s arms wrapped awkwardly around my shoulders as I leaned into him.

“I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow, Charlie. I don’t see any physical injuries.” I heard Dr. Gerandy murmur before seeing himself out of the room.

“Bells, I have to let everyone know you’re okay and send them home. I’ll be right back.” Charlie murmured into my hair. I clenched my hands into his shirt for a moment, before releasing him.

I heard him call out of the house, saying his thanks and dismissing the group. As his footsteps fell on the floor the phone started to ring. He grumbled and padded into the kitchen, having the same hushed conversation with the callers. There was a pause in ringing for a minute before it began again. Charlie let out a large sigh before answering.

“Hello.” He greeted curtly. “Where? Outside the reservation? I’ll check on it, thanks.”

The phone hung up and he was dialing again. “Hey, Billy. No, she’s fine. Sleeping on the couch. Thanks for sending the boys. Look, I’ve got reports of fires on the cliffs.......Yeah, okay, and why are they doing that?” His voice was weary. “Really? Just make sure it doesn’t spread, I can’t leave her alone.....Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up the phone then sighed. He padded around the kitchen, I heard dishes being placed in the sink before his footsteps grew closer and I heard him drop into his recliner.

“What’s going on?” I asked, his head jolted towards me. He started to stand. “Charlie, I’m okay. What’s happening, I heard you talking about fires.”

He sighed, “Just some bonfires on the cliffs. Some of the kids in La Push being rowdy.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

His eyes met mine, “They’re celebrating.”

My brow furrowed for a moment, “They’re celebrating the Cullens leaving.” I murmured.

Charlie nodded, and sat back in his chair. He was staring at the wall, his mind somewhere else. “Bella?” He asked, in a gentle tone I don’t know if I had heard since I was small. I glanced over at him. “He left you alone, in the woods?”

I remained silent, not sure what to say. He left me, alone. And in the woods, that much was the truth. “How did you find me?”

“Your note, you left it on the table. Said you went for a walk with Edward.” Charlie murmured, worrying a piece of paper in his hand. “Then you didn’t come back. I called their house, no one answered. I called Alice, nothing. So, I called the hospital. Doc told me that Carlisle resigned.”

I closed my eyes, as tears were starting to form again. How did I still have tears left to cry? “Where did they go?”

Charlie balked, I hadn’t meant to say that. “Doc said that Carlisle took a job in Los Angeles, some big hospital, very lucrative opportunity. Didn’t Edward tell you.”

I let out a wry laugh, Los Angeles, the last place a coven of vampires would relocate to.

“Bella, I need to know, did Edward leave you alone in the woods?”

I took a breath and stared up at the ceiling. “I tried to follow him, I was on the path. Then it was dark and I wasn’t on the path anymore. I tripped. Then I heard Sam.” A sob tore through my body.

“Oh, baby, it’s alright.” I heard Charlie rise from his chair and kneel by the couch. I rolled to my side and haphazardly wrapped my arms around him. “You’ll get through this. It won’t be easy, but you will be okay.”

“Dad...” I started, my voice was so weak and I felt his arms tighten around me.

“It’s okay, Bells. I’m here.” He was rubbing small circles on my back as tears continued flowing, at some point they had to stop. They had to. I don’t know how long we stayed like that before he pulled back. “Let’s get you to bed, you can stay home tomorrow. Alright?”

I nodded, he held out his hand to help me off the couch. I walked up the stairs to my room, giving him a small good night before entering my room. I glanced at the window, expecting his shadow to darken it. I did a small turn as I looked around my room, he had left the note. That much, I knew. Which meant, he had been in the house. I opened the CD player on my dresser. It was empty. It will be as if I never existed. “No, no.” I picked up the scrapbook from Renèe, the pages that I had filled were dotted with empty frames. I felt my breathing start to shallow and I sat on my bed. The window still closed, he was gone. He didn’t want me. I sunk into the covers as the dam broke and I was swallowed whole by the tides.

I never really understood what people meant when they talked about going through the motions, at least, not until now. Six months had passed since he left. I didn’t even feel like those months existed, my only proof was the constant changing of the calendar. It was January now, that much I knew, if you asked me for the actual day, I wouldn’t have that answer. I sighed and pulled on an outfit, that Alice would be disappointed in. Maybe my poor fashion choices would summon her here. I let out a laugh and walked down the stairs for breakfast.

I sat down at the table with my usual cereal, Dad nursing his morning coffee. The circles under his eyes dark and deep. I knew those were my fault. Months of sleepless nights had worn on him, I wish I could let him sleep. I wish both of us could sleep. Silence fell in the little kitchen, silence had become common in the house.

But this morning was different, Dad’s fist hit the table. “Bella, I don’t know what to do. Something has to change, or I’m sending you to Florida with your mom.” Dad stated, a shake in his voice.

“I am home.” I snapped back, glancing up into his eyes.

“I’m sending you back, to Renèe, in Jacksonville. I...Bella...I can’t let you live like this. You don’t do anything, you just walk through the motions. I can’t let you go on like this. You can’t... Bella.”

“Dad, please, don’t.” I started, the thought of being sent back to Renèe had my heart pounding, for the first time in months I felt like I had an indicator that I was alive. “Please, I can do better.”

He sighed, “I know, Bella, but I have to do something. Bells, you’re wasting away, you’re falling behind in school, you don’t leave your room. I can’t even say you’re moping because you don’t emote enough for it to be considered moping. Dr. Gerandy recommended a therapist from Port Angeles, thought you might like her.”

I chewed on my thumbnail, being presented with the possibility of being shipped back to Renèe jostled me out of my stupor for a moment. I couldn’t go back to her, I couldn’t take care of myself, how was I supposed to take care of her again? And Phil was hurt again, so he’d be another added to my list. “A therapist might not be a bad idea.” I mumbled.

Dad’s eyes widened. “I can call, see when she has an opening. Get an appointment booked.”

I nodded, still chewing on my thumbnail.

“Bells?” He asked tentatively.

I glanced up from the table. “Dad?”

“You’re not the first to go through this kind of thing. I….” He trailed off. “I had a hard time when your mom left. I was in a bad place. It took me time, but I got through it.” He paused again, he glanced down at his coffee and took a long sip before speaking again. “You can’t waste your life waiting for him to come back. I think if I had seen someone, maybe I would have been able to get better sooner.” There was something else he was thinking, but he kept it to himself.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” I mumbled.

His eyes shot over to me, and he sat up to reach across the table to place his hand over mine. “Bella, you have nothing to be sorry about. I am sorry, that I didn’t get you help sooner. And I’m sorry that I threatened to send you back to Renèe, I’m worried about you, kid.”

“I know, let me know when you get an appointment.” I said, giving him a weak smile before standing from the table. “I’ve got to get to school, see you when I get home.”

He nodded, and took another sip of his coffee as I left the kitchen. “Love you.” I heard him whisper as I left the door. Another small smile spread across my lips and I climbed into my truck. I pulled into my parking space and took a deep breath. The past few months I had been a ghost, I wonder if they’re real too….. I shook my head and stared at Forks High. There were no shiny Volvos parked at the side with a family of too perfect teenagers grouped at the entrance. No van barreling at me. Just a bunch of normal, human teenagers walking to their first class. I joined them, but I knew I was far from a normal human teenager, but just maybe, I would get closer than I was now.

[taemin-spill-the-tea]

Kpop fic recommandantions (through bingo)

I decided to do the fic rec bingo. Excuses in advance for the super long post. 

The most recenty read fic: A lot like love and Loey

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary: Where single father Chanyeol has no idea why anyone sane enough would sit outside under the falling snow, but Loey loves Baekhyun, and he thinks that's enough.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16791604

A fic that made me cry: 10080

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary: Chanyeol wanted a divorce. Baekhyun asked for a week.

Link: https://exobubz.livejournal.com/929.html

The longest fic: Acquired taste

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary: Baekhyun believed it was Henri Matisse who said that "creativity takes courage." Thomas Merton stated that "art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time." As a young painter still in learning, Baekhyun's only profound and memorable quote so far is "Fuck you, Park Chanyeol, for using every opportunity you get to ruin my fucking life."

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22915615/chapters/59247361#workskin

A fic I almost didn’t read: Where dreams come true (ongoing)

Ships: Seonghwa/Hongjoong - San/Wooyoung - Yunho/Mingi - Yeosang/Jongho

Summary:  Working at Disney World seems magical on the surface. Working there with people like this is not something any of them had in mind. In other words, the Happiest Place on Earth isn’t what they expected.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25530529/chapters/61944745

A fic that made me check out the author’s other works: My heart is glowing fluroscent (I want you to possess it)

Ship: Woosan

Summary: Jung Wooyoung has considered himself fairly lucky, having an easy life and just going with the flow. So when he reluctantly agrees to a Master/Pet partnership with Brat Tamer Choi San to help his best friend pay off a debt, he begins to wonder if that luck has run out.Yet, despite all his preconceived notions, Wooyoung soon learns which of the two is truly in control. And as time passes he finds himself not only enjoying the role he plays, but also the man who set out to tame him.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742952/chapters/66452752#workskin

A fic I’d like to be a movie: licenced to survive & on melochony hill

Licenced to survive: 

Ship: Woosan

Summary: “I’m San,” San says, voice dropping in a force of habit, something that has latched onto him from years of living the same humdrum life and his lifelong acquaintance with introducing himself to people who truly didn't give a fuck about him or anything he did, introductions serving merely as a necessary evil.The stranger looks at him for a brief moment before he tilts the disinfectant bottle into the ball of cotton, soaking it as he leans forward and presses it against San’s stitches. San grabs his wrist.“I’m gonna need a name before you treat me, pretty boy,” San says, making sure that it doesn’t come off sounding like a request.The stranger raises his head to meet his eyes, something like sadness pooling in his eyes, smudged black and purple distracting San for the umpteenth time this evening and whispers softly, “Wooyoung.”It’s a pretty name for a pretty face, but San is presented with an even prettier smile, shy and curling at the edges of his mouth, lilac field for his hair and cherry blossom cheeks, as he repeats it under his breathe 

          Or, San is working in the task force as a mercenary for an intergalactic                law enforcement authority, and Wooyoung's the anomaly he doesn't see              coming.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825965/chapters/57250096

For “on melocholy hill” see A favorite side character

A fic I have re-read: A prize to be claimed

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary:  Baekhyun didn’t think much of it when Chanyeol, his childhood nemesis, won a tournament held by their pack. That is, until said nemesis demanded him as a prize.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17394146/chapters/44797411#workskin

A fic from my to read list: Kissed by fire

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary:  It is with the introduction of a mischievous, red-haired wildling that Chanyeol’s loyalty to the Night’s Watch really starts to crumble.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884300/chapters/24186225

A pwp: you make my heart (go!)

Ship: Lumark

Summary:  There's a lot you can find out during never have I ever, and for Mark that includes finding out your best friend is a virgin in every sense of the word. So, what else was he supposed to do other than help Yukhei find out just how good his body can feel? But, what happens when feelings are thrown into the mix?

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305581?view_adult=true

A favorite side character: Heechul and Junmyeon in “On melancholy hill”

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary:  Something strange is happening in town and it's up to Baekhyun to find out what it is. It's easier said than done — especially with the new necromancer threatening to take over his job.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15053624/chapters/34898414#workskin

A fic with my favorite trope: My constellation is a fragment of the sun (ongoing)

Ship: Woosan

Summary:  All Jung Wooyoung wanted to do was spend his Christmas drinking hot chocolate and drawing by the fire. That all changes after the Jung family is invited to the castle for Ardendall’s Royal Christmas Ball. Being sent out as representation for the Jung pack, Wooyoung is stuck in the Palace for a month. But Wooyoung knows that the Ball is just an excuse for the Crown Prince to choose his mate. And he has no desire in becoming that person.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28147851/chapters/68968428

A fic with a trope that I don’t usually read: In the eyes of the beholder

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary:  Chanyeol’s hiding a secret that Baekhyun already knows. He can be rather stubborn about it, but watching your husband struggle with a condition like this on his own has never been easy either.

Link: https://yeolliepopday.livejournal.com/39203.html

A fic set in a different time: bluebirds in the moonlight

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary: Chanyeol stood at the front for three years. Morocco, Italy, Normandy, Germany and that folded paper was still there, inside his pocket. The photo that, even if crumpled and deprived of any color, showed a smile more dazzling than any rainbow. The smile of his first love, the beautiful florist that gave Chanyeol a reason to keep on fighting for his life. “Come back to me, Chanyeol” And he did, because he hadn't confessed his love yet.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18936796/chapters/44958520

A fic with a nonhuman character: It’s you 

Ship: Chanbaek

Summary: In which Chanyeol is a beta in love with an omega way out of his league.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24513703?view_adult=true 

A pwp that made me infested in the plot: late flights & city lights

Ship: Lumark

Summary: Mark doesn’t splutter, doesn’t choke- fights against the urge to tug Yukhei down by the collar of his shirt and wipe that irritatingly attractive smirk off of his face. He holds fast against the scarlet blush tinting his cheeks and ears, ignores the heat sweeping across his neck and collarbones. Stubborn and unyielding, Mark doesn’t want to give Yukhei the satisfaction of seeing his effect.Yeah, that lasts about 0.2 seconds, because Mark is so focused on not reacting that he doesn’t realize he’s not breathing.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791538

A fic based on a book/movie: and miles to go before I sleep (ongoing)

Ship: Lumark

Summary: Mark Lee is, in theory, the perfect candidate to pilot a Jaeger. He's at the top of his class, his drop scores are second to none, and he can recite fifty ways to take down a kaiju with his eyes closed. There's only one problem: he can't Drift with anyone. All of that changes when a washed-up pilot from Hong Kong knocks on the doors of the Jeju Shatterdome.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955737/chapters/49824203