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divinehedons · 8 months

Text

godless promethean, elektran rage.

navigation: masterlist

pairing: pirate!joel miller x siren!reader

word count: ~8.4k words (I KNOW I'M SO SORRY)

summary: when the wrath of poseidon brings in something not quite human, a hardened pirate with the harshness of a soldier at war faces a bright-eyed siren with the delusion of a dreamer.

warnings: this is a DARK, EXPLICIT fic. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT or i will BLOCK you. so much plot, pirate!au, siren!au, joel is a violent motherfucker, reader is a metamorphic creature that turns human-like when not submerged in water, graphic depiction of violence and injury, mentions of abduction and implications of abuse, explicit p-in-v sex, oral (f!receiving), squirting, creampie, soooo much murder. it's like a greek tragedy without the incest.

note: THANK YOU FOR 600 FOLLOWERS!!! much of this work was inspired by me rereading the odyssey by homer, but the trope of joel x siren!reader is not of my own making! thank you so much for reading, and as always, comments and reblogs are much apprciated!

Be strong, saith my heart. A wave crests over the hull of the ship. Then another. And another. I have seen worse things than this. Synchronized hands haul the rope for the sails, a last attempt to regain control of their vessel. The Balkan sea stretches before weary sailors, endless and unforgiving, with one foot in their watery grave and the other clawing to live.

In the midst of this carnage is The Flounder, harbinger of chaos, populated by a crew of men who pillage, murder, and destroy anything that gets in their way. Joel once thought of him and his men as indestructible. The Wrath of Poseidon makes him reconsider otherwise.

“Goddamnit, Bonnie, we’re never gettin’ out of this mess!” Joel yells over the deluge of rain, tightening his grip and growling as the rope digs in to the skin of his palms. He sees another wave crest over them, sturdy as a wall, coming down upon their shivering backs, leaving them spluttering out seawater. He coughs momentarily, heaving in air as he digs his feet into the deck.

When he regains his breath, he hears his name being called. He looks, their Captain bellowing from where he steered. His new orders came through in the middle of the crack of thunder and the whistle of an unending storm. Check beneath the deck for damages. Fix anything that could sink them. He calls for someone to replace his hold and he runs for it.

In his head, he had begun to pen a letter back to his waiting daughter under the care of his brother. Dear Sarah, he thinks, climbing down the ladder and finding himself in knee-deep, ice-cold water. I promised you that this will be my last expedition. That after this, we shall live out however you want us to. I only hope that I can live up to that promise. He cusses under his breath when he finds a growing leak in the hull, crossing himself as he immediately went about to fix it temporarily with what materials he could find. You’re safer with your uncle Tommy than here in this misery. And should anything happen to me, know that I love you and I trust you to be good to him, too. He crosses the threshold to see if there was anything else, moving across floating bottles, bobbing up and down with remnants of booze. With a sigh, isolated from the chaos above deck, he leans against a column, grabbing a drifting bottle and swallowing down the booze to settle his nerves.

I grow old, I grow old. He mouths the words under his breath. I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

The muffled sounds of the world melts away as he tries to catch his breath, gritting his teeth from the ache in his hips. Getting too old for this. He tries to think of a way that rest can be comfortable in this mess. Sleep, he thinks, delicious and profound. The very counterfeit of death. It is only when his nerves settle that he hears it.

A splash in the common room. Too loud to be some drifting object. Something that continues to move against the motion of the ship between the waves. He stills himself, the empty bottle slipping between his fingers. Slowly, he moves closer to the source of the sound, like a predator stalking his prey in the darkness. He retrieves a drifting harpoon, peeking through the threshold of the room to inspect. In the semi-darkness, interrupted by the flickering of lanterns and dying candelight, he catches the shimmer of something alive. He raises his weapon, looks through his good eye, his brows crinkling at the effort to focus.

Too old and too goddamn blind for this shit.

He blinks a few times more before he finally sees. And what he sees is you.

Your lithe arms reaching against the walls of the ship, trying to find a weak link that could let you escape. Were you brought in by the waves? Were you the very thing responsible for the leak he just had to fix? Initially, Joel made the movement to speak, to ask how you had ended up here—the sea is no place for a maiden like you. But his breath hitches when he looks closer to see… well, you. The incandescent flickering of a scaled tail, blending with inhuman yet somewhat human skin around your hips, and your upper body, glorious, unmarked, and completely fucking naked.

Perhaps it was the months at sea, conversing with no one but the same crew of men who, despite their intelligentsia and capabilities, do not exactly have the looks capable of producing in him the flustering exhilaration of some teenager. But he, of all people, know of the stories, too. The whispers shared in the saloons in the darkness. The shared thrill and excitement of such beauty and danger lurking beneath the temptresses’ skins. He has heard of claws coming for his companions’ throats, have heard of the trickery they can cause with the power of the ocean entirely at their disposal. He thinks of Odysseus again— tethered to the mast of his ship, The only one of his men to hear the voice of the sirens and have survived. Odysseus, who would have laid his life down just to come close to the very presence of something so divine.

Another thing he knows is that the price of one siren is half the bounty they had planned for. Months of work cut out for himself. Months closer to seeing his daughter again. It’s enough to give him the taste of freedom. His own little piece of heaven that, ironically, is someone else’s hell. The funny thing was, he does not feel guilt about it.

Perhaps he was not Odysseus. He was not as noble. Nor did he ever want to be. A noble character would never provide a good life for his Sarah, waiting for him oceans away.

That was the decision that sealed the creature’s fate before him. Without a second thought, he fires his harpoon, the sharp head piercing through the creature’s shoulder as an angelic wail emanates from her precious throat. With her pinned down, he had begun yelling, calling for the presence of men to see what they’ve caught in their vessel. Their ticket to riches. The honeypot herself.

The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.

He swallows down the guilt as the thunder of heavy steps descend upon their victim, her screams only growing louder and louder amidst the exhilarated, disbelieving laughter of his companions. He does not dare to look. Does not dare to see those doe eyes of yours begging for respite, pulling him into your charms.

An eye of an eye. A good life for Sarah in exchange for hers.

Fair enough.

—-

When The Flounder has escaped the barrages of the storm, the sea is quiet. Some would even say peaceful. Joel wouldn't exactly use that word. Not when he hears your wails breaking the silence. That first night, no one understood what needed to be done. No one even bothered to try and treat your wound. The very wound he had caused. Everyone had something more important to do. Clear the seawater beneath the hull, secure the sails, have a quick meal, get a few winks of sleep. Naturally, the mythical being, as all other inconsequential things, were tucked away, you dealt with the usual brusque nature of men.

So when he had been called to watch you before dawn broke, that's what he set his mind to. Stepping down beneath the deck, with spare scraps of cloth and booze in hand. They've cleared out the flooding. But the wood hadn't dried completely. Mick, who he had passed beforehand, gave him a questioning look. "Aren't ya scared she'd rip your throat out?"

He scoffs, tilting his head to the side as he speaks. "I'm more scared of the stench she'll make if she starts dyin' on us, Micky."

What he did not expect when he opens the closet you've been locked in is the metamorphic cross between a tail and legs you kick out at him. What he hears next is the snarl, your body knocking him over, small, webbed hands slipping around his throat. “You asshole!” That same heavenly voice, filled with so much malice that does not fit with the angelic features towering over him. You speak in a language he does not understand, a torrent of words driven by so much emotion that he sees a glance of what Homer was so distasteful about. You could kill him, devour him bones and all and you wouldn’t even flinch.

However, he sees how your rage blinds you, too. Blinds you to his precise movements, making you think you’ve subdued him, only to suddenly flip your positions, pinning you down by your wrists, trying to look into your eyes.

What you see, staring up at him as your last yells escape you, is the strands of silver in his hair. What follows next is his tired eyes. A sea of stories that you feel as if you can almost hear them if the world is quiet enough. However, you cannot deny the warmth to them. The fire that you failed to see in the other men that shoved you in the closet you have been suffocating in. It’s what makes you stop in your struggle as you finally hear his voice.

“Damnit, let me help you, honey, c’mon…”

It’s then that Joel finally comprehends what he sees. You, a mythical being that shifts from merfolk in one instance, to a walking goddess in the next. Perhaps it was what helped your kind survive; camouflaging yourself and disappearing amidst throes of people. “You turn when ya… when…?”

You swallow, breathless and trembling as you grit your teeth. He sees the panic in your eyes, the idea that he can just betray you if he wanted to. If it would benefit him.

“Let me help you, darlin’.”

“W-when I’m…” You breathe in sharply. “When I’m not in water.”

He nods, slowly, watching the lithe legs and your bare body, spotless and perfect in every way. “I see.” He removes himself from you, moving away from your periphery. You gather your breath, turning over to see him, kneeling over an upturned washtub, somewhat filled with some form of water or another. “Those men up there? They can’t see you like this, otherwise…” he trails off, preferring not to picture what they’d do. What they’ve all once done before at sea. “Ya hear me?” He looks back at you, watching the way your hands gripped your bleeding shoulder wound, evidence of what he had already done to you. “You don’t know what else they can do to a pretty girl like ya.”

So, gently, he kneels beside you with a pained groan from the ache in his knees. You flinch under his touch and he gives you a stern look. “Why did you do this?”

He shakes his head, opening the bottle he brought down with him to pour it over the gaping flesh. Your soft fingers grip on to his arm, the softest whine escaping your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut. “You’re not the only one fightin’ to survive in this world, honey.” He shushes you gently, moving to wrap what pieces of cloth he could find, using them to bandage your wound as you finally soften in his hold. He helps you into the tub, and he tries not to look into your eyes again.

You spoke again when he turned away, giving you the privacy he assumed you needed. “Just because you need to survive doesn’t mean I need it any less.” He stops in his tracks, looking down for a moment before clearing his throat. “Are men always this wretched? That one must tear down the innocent to survive?” He moves to answer, turning back momentarily, before sighing, turning back to continue cleaning up the mess. “Thank you, though. For… this.”

You know exactly how to describe it. You just don’t want him to hear it. The gentleness that comes, not in the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

Joel hears the noise in his head, clouding his thoughts and drowning them out as he moves from one place to another.as he tries not to think about you, quiet in a tub of water, pretending to ignore him. Men are so quick to blame the gods…

He hands you a plate of scraps. The trimmings from a loaf of bread. A slice of some meat, and the last pieces of cheese he could find. “Eat,” he orders gruffly, moving to sit by the side of your tub, while he seats himself with a slice of bread. “Can’t have ya dyin’ of starvation either.”

You obey, weakened by the struggles of the evening, disheartened by your imprisonment, so close to freedom and at the same time so far away from it. You eat slowly, as if considering each little fragment you were handed, as if the world is unfamiliar in the presence of someone else.

Joel couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was your charm. Whatever it was, he started to tell you things.

He tells you of his life, so far away from the ocean, landlocked. He tells you how they make a living with animals. But he also tells you about Sarah. Sarah who dreamt of the world. Sarah who he was doing all this for. Sarah who asked him as a child to read to her every night. Sarah who was growing more and more with each passing day, the gap between the two of them becoming wider than he could ever comprehend.

“My survival may not mean much,” he says, “but hers is the most vital thing in my life, doll.”

He feels your gaze on him, becoming easier and easier to see as the sun slowly grows higher in the sky. In thirty minutes, his watch will end, and you do not know how the next man will treat you next. Will he be kind? Will he have Joel’s eyes?

He turns to leave, taking the plates with him as he stands up with a pained groan. “Don’t cause too much trouble, girl.” He only stops when you say his name, his gaze catching the blurry image of you, your tail sinking beneath you in the tub. “Yeah?”

“Will you read to me when you return?” you whispered, afraid to show fragility in your own internment.

He nods after a moment of thought, clambering up on deck to report back to the Captain.

Men are so quick to blame the gods.

—

For a while, a week or so, you believed things could be nice with Joel somewhat in your corner. Everyone else seemed to care less or cower in fear of you. Maybe because you do try to scare them away. At least, if you were going to be betrayed, it was Joel doing the betraying.

He returned at the same time just as he did the night before. And slowly, a routine emerges. He cleans your wounds, he feeds you whatever he finds. Then he reads to you. His eyes are too weak to read without you holding the lantern. So you learned that second night to emerge from your tub and to hold the lantern for him. He reads to you with the skilled words of a bard. He reads to you as if he’d read this tale before. Perhaps to Sarah? Perhaps to someone else?

You feel your stomach curdle at the thought of there being someone else in his life. You swallow down the bile and listen more closely.

When he leaves at dawn, you lie in the tub, dreaming of the words he had read to you, turning your back to the man that comes next. They do not bother you. You do not bother them. You become a ghost until he brings you to life.

Sing to me, Muse, of the Man of many wiles.

By the third night, he brings with him a blanket for you to wrap yourself in as you sit closer beside him, trying to follow the words he read, only to surrender because the letters are too rigid, too unnatural. You began shutting your eyes as he reads to you, learning of Odysseus, a once too familiar name you have heard in others of your kind before…

Sing to me, Muse, of these matters. Daughter of Zeus,My starting point is any point you choose.

You begin to talk to him too by the fourth night, observing your transformed toes as he hammered little areas he figured needed repairs. You tell him of the world beneath the waves, the languid distances you’ve traveled, never truly feeling as if you have found a home. You tell him, too, of wonders big and small.

You spoke of all these things, pretending to be unaware of the way he listens with such interest. It’s like you wanted him to be interested. How could you not, when night by night his eyes become warmer and warmer whenever they fell upon you? How could you not when he’s the only one that cared?

You try to read his thoughts, sometimes, when it’s quiet and he prefers to sit by himself, finding a few winks of sleep while you ate your food. He’s rather good at hiding them. You wonder if it makes his life easier. You wonder if any of it is easy for him.

Then he asks you something on his fifth watch.

“Is the whole singin’ thing somethin’ you actually do?”

You turn your head over your shoulder, setting down the snowglobe you’ve taken an interest in the last couple of hours. You saw it on a shelf this afternoon. And you had been impatient for Joel to arrive ever since. You consider the question, Then you smile and nod meekly.

“Do…” you pause, moving to face him instead. “Do you want to hear?”

He smirks, moving the chair closer to your seated frame, seating with the backing pressed to his front, legs straddling the seat, arms atop, covering that sliver of chest you had been sneaking glances from all evening. He had that thin linen shirt on again— the one that swoops down his chest. The one you see in your dreams.

“Only if it won’t kill me, sweet cheeks.”

You like that. Sweet cheeks. You barely understand what it means. You nod slowly, moving to lay on your back as you stare at the ceiling, monotonous and unchanged since you last looked. As you sing, you try not to look him in the eye. As if you cannot bear the sight of him seeing your capabilities and forever changing his perception of you. The hymn is warm, almost homely. A relentless Odyssey that means to take you home. A song that’s said to bring forth memories of home. You know Joel does not understand the language. Nor do you want him to. You won’t admit it, but you’re still terrified of what he could do if you remind him of how much he misses his home.

But what is even more surprising is this: instead of reminiscing about the tropics from which you have loved so deeply, all you can think about is him. All you can picture is his face. All you can see is possibilities of how he’s looking at you now.

When you finish, dawn is already breaking over the horizon. He has to go.

Quietly, you rose and slowly return to the tub with your snowglobe, watching as your body metamorphosizes— your last line of defense for survival. The shine of your scales so familiar, but never this clear under the water. The light is always so diffused— as distant as a foreign planet. Joel, on the other hand, stays there for a few minutes more, looking at the spot where you just were—at the plank of wood bearing the wet shape of your body. You started to think maybe he won’t leave when he swallows, rising from where he sat, and approaching you to hand the cheese he couldn’t eat from his portion of the meal.

“I quite enjoyed that,” he confesses, tucking the food into your palm. Just then, he encloses your hand in both of his, taking a moment to savor the feeling of your cool, changed skin against his. He wonders momentarily if you’ll feel different without your tail. “Thank you.”

He leans down, bringing your hand up to his waiting mouth, his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. A shiver runs down your spine as you comprehend the sensation. His lips. How warm he is… the scruff of his beard against smooth skin. You feel him smirk against your hand, pulling away as he makes his way above deck.

And on your hand is the reddened skin that evidenced the smidgen of affection you were giving. And for now, it’s enough.

You turn your back to the world once more and into your own dream world, staring at your hand as you dream of Joel all morning long.

—

You suppose everything that goes around does eventually come around. You wonder why you're so optimistic. But, you supposed, just as things were getting better, the fates had other plans in store for you.

The call came just as you were coming of the stupor of sleep. From what you can tell, it was barely midday, and someone was yelling above where you resided. All hands on deck.

The thunderous noise of heavy feet trundle above head. The man watching you grumbled, muttering something along the lines of, "don't you dare think about running, li'l bitch."

You watch him slam the door, and curiosity gets the better of you. You rise slowly from the tub, slinking along the floor, struggling to lift yourself enough to peer out from one of the windows. But when you do, you've come to realize the gravest sin of your naivety.

There is a ship to be plundered. Slowly, the masks worn by the men where you are melt away. You see familiar men with their swords drawn, laughing maniacally, screaming and terrifying the ship they've found to appease their hunger.

You feel your body changing, and you begin to turn away from the window when you catch sight of silver hair and scruff. A visage that you finally see in broad daylight.

Joel is one of the men who almost seem to dance to the song of violence. Perhaps the stories were true. Perhaps the secrets of the shadows are laid bare in the light. Even Joel's secrets cannot escape the midday sun. When you see him, he is in battle with some toughened fisherman, their duel witnessed by cowering passengers and well-dressed women. For a moment, you think Joel will come to his senses, see how senseless all this violence is.

But then he takes the man by his hair, holding his head and facing him to the sun. His sword arches across the expanse of his victim's neck, rivulets of blood bursting forth in gush, an unstoppable stream. A squeal escapes you, the violent image burnt into the recesses of your brain, forcing you away from the window.

You run on shaky legs, screaming and yelling, reaching the doorway and attempting to push the door open, only to find resistance. Your fists pound the hard wood, your body pushing and shoving, unable to accept the fact that you can't call to him— show him that you saw and you demand an answer why.

For the first time, ever since Joel shot you with a harpoon, you truly understood something you tried so hard to ignore.

You sleep under the shelter of murderers. You think you felt affection from the hands of a man who just as easily took someone's life away. You are only loved because you're something else. Something not human.

You are only loved because you'll ensure their survival.

—

The blade itself incites the deeds of violence.

When the carnage ended, Joel raised his head to see the sky beginning to paint itself in bolder strokes of colors. He stretches his arms, only to feel the sticky plasma of drying blood sticking to his arms, his torso, spotting the expanse of his face. He is the last to leave their conquered ship, and he takes his time. He walks along the scattered piles of bodies, putting whoever hasn't perished out of their misery with the very same blade he wielded in battle. He's alive. He can go home. He watches the revelry on their vessel: men roasting the spoils from the kitchen, barrels upon barrels of ale and mead slowly being chewed through.

The stage is set. All they need is a little shock of entertainment.

But what he worries about is you. You who probably cowered from fear at the sudden influx of noise. You who definitely saw the things they are capable of doing. You with the wound on your shoulder, healing at a snail's pace with your imprisonment. So, he takes the time to find supplies to help you. He finds antiseptic. He finds needle and thread. It will have to do.

When he returns to his ship, He has spread oil across the deck where the bodies lay. With one bloody hand, he strikes a match to burn away the evidence of their carnage. The burning ship drifts further and further into the horizon, drowned out by the sounds of cheering. Joel is handed a mug of better than average mead.

As he watches the lights flicker and consume the rest of the ship, one question remains at the forefront of his thoughts, echoed and repeated by every voice in his head.

Do I dare?

Clarity comes when he's two mugs in, everyone else fucking off to see how much treasure piled up. He looks at the door that leads directly where you are and the question becomes clearer. It is in the iambic beat of his heart. I am, I am, I am.

It's in the excitement at the thought of seeing you tonight and having a good meal to offer. He begins to smirk, taking two plates and finding food he thinks you'll like.

Do I dare disturb the universe?

—

You do not look at him when he enters. You cannot, knowing the things you’ve seen today. Especially when you hear he’s happy, humming as he sinks down the stairs from the deck. The jump on his step was not there before. And instead of finding that itching curiosity to see if he was smiling or if you were responsible for this joy, you feel your stomach sour at one thought.

Perhaps the slaughtering of others brought glee to his bones.

“You must be hungry,” he says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You feel a strange stickiness to his touch. So strange that you finally look, only to be horrified by the sight of his bloodsoaked hand. You yelp helplessly, shrinking away from his touch. You shed tears, luminescent in the semi-darkness, as precious as pearls that only he can see. “Darlin’...” His hand comes to cup your face gently, trying to make you look him in the eye. In this form, your skin is cold, the warmth of his hands turning your skin red.

“Y-you killed them,” you finally manage, the iron smell filling your senses. Seeing you panicked, Joel reaches down into the tub to slowly bring you out of your tub and into his willing arms, slow shushes escaping him. “Are you going to kill me, too?”

So that was what you were so scared of.

You bury your face into his chest, his shirt smelling of him— of sandalwood and musk, tobacco smoke, and underneath it all, a few specks of blood. Meanwhile, he lets you, cradling you in his arms as you continue to shed your tears. He lets you, knowing you wouldn’t listen to him with so much emotion in that pretty little head of yours.

But when you do eventually calm down, he doesn’t miss a moment. He couldn’t.

“I can never harm you, honey.” He breathes in through his nose, finally close enough to smell you. The sea air in your hair, sunshine and honeysuckles from lands he can only dream of. “I can’t even if I tried.”

Slowly, he lays you down where he had dropped his sheet—the sheet you’ve been wrapping yourself around. The sheet that smells like the both of you; that way he could imagine waking up to you the past few times he had gotten sleep. Slowly, he straddles your changed form, naked and so fucking divine it has his head spinning. “Can I take care of ya, darlin’?” He waits for you. Even when everything is pushing him to kiss you— he has to know you want this.

He has to know you’re not miserable.

Seeing this, you take a deep breath. You hold his face. Your skin, smooth and not exactly human, bright against his, earth-marred, bloody, and burnt from days in the sun. And yet, you do not see those flaws. All you see are his warm eyes, so desperate to tell you he wants you, and yet so willing to walk away if you asked. So you grip him by his shirt, pulling him against you in a wanton, desperate kiss.

It is the first kiss you share. The first of the hundreds you’ll share that night. But you will always remember that first.

Because it’s burning against your cool skin. Because the scratch of his scruff is a sensation you have not felt in the long life you have lived. He holds your face, bringing your head closer to him, pressing against the front of his skull, making you whine from want as he deepens the kiss. You’ll always remember it because you know this kiss.

You can already see the ending before the two of you ever began.

His hand slips into your hair, his mouth pulling away from yours, only to drift down your cheek, your jaw… He chuckles against your skin when you gasp so meekly, melting like butter in his arms.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he whispers, marking the crook of your neck with his mouth. “Let me show you how ya have me wrapped around your pretty li’l finger.”

Already, you can see him in your memories, tangled up in him. His kisses on your neck, his spit drying against your skin. His fingers reaching and tearing you apart. In the eternity you’ll be facing alone… he’s there. Just there, a willing invitation to a dream.

He’s pushing your legs up, now fully transformed, and he comprehends everything. Without words, it seems, things simply come naturally to him. He cups your cheek with one hand, folding your body in half as your legs drape over his broad shoulders. His thumb brushes your lips, and you part them for him. You let him fuck his thumb into your wet mouth, groaning at the way you suck on him. “Good girl…”

Just then, his other hand reaches down, a warm sensation cupping your cunt as you whine softly against him, looking him in the eye. “Good God, are you always this soakin’?”

You slowly pull back, shivering softly from the sensation of him parting your folds. Only you, Joel. No one else can do this to me. He comprehends, and he groans again, leaning down to kiss you. His cock aches in the confines of his pants. Just like that, everything dulls out and he can only comprehend this: to have you. You, you, and just you.

“Guess I have some makin’ up to do to ya, huh?”

Just then, his head disappears between the valley of your breasts, marking a trail of blood-red hickeys down to your stomach, one hand pinching a nipple harshly enough to make you squeal, to which he shushes you again. Gonna get us caught, doll. He continues his way, finally finding your sweet cunt. He shifts his hands so he can slowly part your folds. He kisses the inside of your thighs just as you clamp one hand over your whining mouth. And, with nothing left to do, he takes a deep breath, looking at your face as he sinks his tongue down between your folds, tasting you with a longing groan of delight.

Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.

All you can feel is the flurry of rhythm Joel sets. His trembling jaw, as if whispering prayers to whatever powers may be. His tongue splitting you open and fucking you raw in a way so obscene, you think it’s unbecoming. Perhaps it is. Perhaps by letting him have you this way, you have turned your back on your world. But he fucks one finger into your surprisingly warm cunt and everything else fades away into the silence.

“Fuck, baby…” It’s so easy, you whining urging him on, calling for him and begging to just keep going, dear God. One finger becomes two, then three. Then he raises himself so he can see your face better. So he can see the way your features contort into a heavenly amalgamation of beauty and pleasure and wonder in one full spectrum. But there is nothing more beautiful when his fingers brush against something that made you keen closer to his touch, eyes wide open with your mouth trembling.

“That’s it, isn’t it, darlin’? It is, huh?” He chuckles, the rumble of it vibrating from his chest, echoing to the backs of your thighs, and finally, straight to your wanting cunt. He smirks, his upper body shifting so his arm was much more free— just so he can keep aiming for that one spot that made you keen so beautiful he gets a glance of your otherworldly beauty.

A long forgotten poem comes up from the back of his head, just as he was pulling your orgasm from your willing frame, his other hand covering your mouth before you get too loud just so you wouldn’t be interrupted, caught, and possibly separated.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. “Good fuckin’ girl. Such a good girl, honey…” I did not think they’ll sing for me.

You shut your eyes, grinding your hips into his touch, chasing a sensation you can’t even dare put into words. You whine into the palm of his hand, feeling as if your skin, normally so cool, set on fire with the desire you have for Joel. You peer through your damp lashes, making out the silhouette of his smirk, his warm eyes somewhat swelling with pride.

“Joel… there’s… there–” you barely get the words out when you feel it. Your vision going white, the electricity flowing through your body, and coming out of you in warm bursts.

Heaven, you think, from how Joel so lovingly described it.

When you come to, he’s pulling his fingers away, and a spurt of fluids follow in the wake of his absence. He chuckles, the sound of it emanating the very depths of your consciousness. “Didn’t know ya could do that, pretty girl.”

It leaves you warm, slightly sleepy. Slightly drifting in and out—the way the ocean climbs and recedes from the shore.

You don’t notice the way Joel watches you. The way blood smeared your perfect face. You do not notice his hand tracing down your torso, coloring it a faded, rusty red. Marked by him, and for him.

And yet if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so will I endure. For already have I suffered so much, and much have I toiled in perils of waves and wars. Let she be added to the tales of those.

“Please eat,” he finally says as he kisses your forehead. “I saved a plate for you.”

So you do. You sit up, trembling, the cool porcelain pressed against your thigh as you feasted. Grapes, expensive nuts, and meats you could only dream of. You try not to think of the price he paid to lavish you with such an offering. Because now, instead of the guilt, you feel the rumblings of power in your veins. You have become his very god, the one he’d slay men for. The very god to which he offers a plate paid for by carnage. And if you’ve become god, what can you offer him?

Heaven was not fit to house a creature such as I.

—-

He makes love to you after dinner. Slow, careful. He doesn’t want to terrify you. He doesn’t want to get caught, either. He has you on his lap, your cool hands cupping his heated face, spineless from pleasure as he fucks up into you, giving you a moment to accommodate him and get used to the feeling of his cock stretching you wide open. Every vein, his very length, arching and filling you up in the best way there is to be filled.

“Tell me you want this,” he asks, and you oblige him. You whine for him, calling, biting your lip and throwing your head back. You lead his hand to your chest, heaving with slow, shaky breaths. He knows what you want without ever asking it of you. And that is why he squeezes the curve of your breast, sitting up to press his mouth to your collarbone. The kisses set your skin aflame, his fingers pinching and pulling the pleasure from your willing body.

So he gives you everything. You cum once again with you on top of him. You cum again after he bends you over the nearest table with his rough fingers rubbing circles on your needy clit. And on the third time, somewhere when it’s quiet, you both lie on the blanket, your back to his chest, his cock unmoving inside of you.

It’s a moment of respite. A lull. A moment to catch breaths.

“How much did you see earlier?”

His arm is around your waist, his mustache brushing against the back of your ear. It’s nice. It’s almost domestic, a word so foreign to you. Perhaps domesticity is something innately human. But he makes you have a taste of it. And it tastes so sweet. You hum softly, tilting your head so he can kiss more of your neck.

“I saw the first man you killed,” you tell him, to which he groans, pulling you closer. “I couldn’t watch any more after that. It was… too much.” You feel his teeth brushing against the curve of your ear. Then he bites gently just to hear you squirm.

“I don’t want you lookin’ anymore, sweetheart,” he whispers, “not if it’s going to upset you this much.” He leans up, peering over your peaceful face, with your eyes shut and your body languid. “But… I suppose I’ll try.” You open one eye, peering up at him. “Less murders, my queen, yes ma’am.”

You giggle, pressing your palm to his mouth as he continues to tease you with such pet names. He speaks behind your palm. Angel baby, cutie pie… Other pet names you don’t comprehend because the sounds disappear into your cool skin.

And then he’s fucking you again, with you on your side and him above you, caging you in his arms. You catch your lip between your teeth, gritting out half-choked moans. Already, the pleasure has begun to border the line between pleasure and pain. Already, you feel your legs quaking, but you feel the tremble in his spine as well.

He’s close. He’s so fucking close.

That’s when you notice how sporadic his bursts of movement are becoming. Fewer and shorter in between. So, you begin to give back, maneuvering your bodies so you’re laying on top of him once more, digging your blunt nails down against his biceps. You feel his hands on your waist. Bloody hands that have taken an infinite number of lives before you. Bloody hands that will take who knows how many lives after. Bloody hands, that, despite their track record, hold you as if you are so fragile in his grasp.

Gentleness incomprehensible. The best of the world in the palms of his hands.

The both of you, flying into deep, empty space. Alone with Joel in the aether.

Watching his orgasm wash over him just as yours does for the fourth and last time. He pulls you into his chest, letting you moan into his chest. The only thing that betrays his release is the stuttered breaths, the shaky fingers. That is all. And then you feel the warmth of his seed, buried deep within you, treasured and tucked away. It’s so much, you feel it reach places you didn’t expect it to be.

Even when he’s ending things, he’s giving you everything he’s got.

In the afterglow, he takes care of you. Already, the sun is rising Once again, you won’t see him until it’s dark again. You’ll be turning away from the world and dreaming of those eyes and his smile. But for now, he wipes you clean, kissing your forehead as he brings you back to your tub. For now, you hold his hand for another minute.

“Y’know… Sarah loved playing siren as a fuckin’ kid,” he finally says, cleaning up the plates in silence. “She loves the sea.”

You peer over the lip of the tub, smiling up at him dreamily. “She must be so beautiful. With your smile?” You sigh, leaning back as you look up at the ceiling. “You must miss her much.”

He brushes your cheek with a sigh, shrugging. “Every fuckin’ day, baby.”

He walks away from you, and you wait for him to look back. He does, with a shit-eating smirk at your dazed eyes, neck marked up by his own doing. “Don’t kill anybody today, Joel.”

He nods slowly. “Get some sleep, squirt.” As you turn away, the smile drops. He cannot show that vulnerability out there, amongst the men he’s shared blood, sweat, and tears with. Men he killed from and men he killed with. Men who’d want to tear you apart and swallow you whole. Men who’d kill him if they knew what the two of you did all night.

Then how should I begin to spit out the butt-ends of my days and ways? How should I presume?

He doesn’t have to presume for long. Not when he emerges on deck and he sees the dark shadow of land specking the endless sea of blue he had grown accustomed to. There stands the rise and fall of a mountain, a jagged line breaking the skyline.

The Captain speaks, and the shock burns through him so rapidly that he tries to hide it by leaning against the starboard side.

We hit land midday tomorrow. Our li’l baggage ‘bout to finally bring in some fuckin’ money.

The clock is ticking, what else can he do? Go, go, go.

—

When Joel returns, he’s waking you from a long, languid sleep. You turn to smile at him, but there’s a different look in his eyes. An urgency, a finger pressed to your lips to ensure silence. He carries you from the water and you’re brought up close to see the crease on his forehead. When he wraps you in the sheet, that’s when he speaks.

“Need t’get ya out of here, baby.”

The great escape. The prison break.

Now you feel the tension.

He waits for you to turn, to become inconspicuous. Meanwhile, he’s hot on his heels. He’s gripping a rucksack in his hands, heavy with some inconceivable baggage, muttering to himself. You start to understand the madness. You start to wonder if there’s two versions of Joel waiting behind every door. One of them is the lover— the man who’d kiss you as he introduces you to a world of pleasure. Then there was the monster— the man who sliced open the throat of the person he was robbing blind, the man who fired the harpoon that caused your imprisonment.

“So the monster has come to set me free of my bonds.”

You rise, shaky on your legs and clothed in that sheet that kept you modest. It’s when he stops in his tracks, looking you in the eye before sighing, tearing the cloth away from you to introduce a linen shirt of his. It smells of him; perhaps it even reeks of him.

“They’re going to butcher you if I don’t try, sweetheart.”

You do what you promised to yourself you’ll do when he asks you something. You put your blind faith into his hands and take a leap.

He leads you through a maze of rooms you cannot comprehend. You stop at the crosshairs. You duck under tables when he asks you to. And you know why. Because the men who thirst for your blood can be found on every corner. Because you’re running out of time. Because he’d rather lose you to the waves than those who shed blood like he does.

In a matter of minutes, you find yourselves in the cool evening air. It’s a blind spot, and it’s far enough that he helps you to the raft while it’s almost silent. The sounds of men beginning to have dinner so distant and far away, it’s like an entirely different world. Skillfully, Joel lowers you both into the ocean, the distant beating of the waves masking the sound of him cutting the rope that tethered you to the ship.

He keeps one hand on the behemoth you’ve escaped, and he audibly counts. Quiet enough for you to hear. Tens. Hundreds. Then, a thousand seconds passes.

He pauses, straining to hear. In the flickering light of the lanterns, you see the silver in his hair and his beard. You wonder, momentarily, if it’s the last you’ll see of him. That’s when you hear it.

Yells. But not of alarm. Not of you, their treasured prisoner, missing from her cage. It’s the yells of panic. Of suffering. Of pain.

Upon seeing your features, Joel finally reveals the hidden card up his sleeve.

“I poisoned them. I poisoned them and robbed them blind so they’ll never come after you.”

You look to him, waiting for another shoe to drop. But there is none. This is who he is, laid bare for you to see. Your devotee, giving you the ultimate sacrifice. This is not the monster nor the lover. This is Joel. All masks have fallen to their knees and prostrated themselves before you. Every post abandoned and conquered, only for you.

“Go.”

You blink, and his trembling fingers hold your cheeks, his shaky lips kissing the crown of our head.

“No one’s coming for you as long as I’m there to stop them.”

When you don’t move, he grits his teeth, as if caught between a rock and a hard place. A second passes, then his arms take you, throwing you overboard and into the familiar depths of an ocean below.

The waves welcome you with a surge of power, relentless and enduring. More immortal than you. More divine than you can ever hope to be. The moment you are released from Joel’s hold, the saltwater licks clean the wound on your shoulder. It washes away the scent of Joel’s shirt.

He’s already being erased from you.

From beneath the depths, everything comes back to you. The kiss on your hand, the scraps of food. His sticky, bloodmarked fingers marking you. All of it, slipping through your fingers like sand. In the cool darkness of the open sea, all you can see is a flame starting from the base where you last saw Joel. A fire spreading amongst the ship which you once hailed your prison.

You can see Joel’s boat, smaller in comparison, already racing away towards the shore.

All you can do now, with the power of Poseidon surging and bubbling beneath your veins, is to sing. To sing a hymn that begs before the very gods themselves. But it’s a song that begs Joel, too. Begs him to remember you.

Don’t forget me. You do not know if he hears you. Don’t forget me.

You attempt to follow him beneath the waves.

Don’t forget me.

—-

Against all odds, Joel Miller disembarks from the train to find himself in a farmland so familiar to him. Against all odds, it is three weeks later, and he’s followed all the roads and finds himself home.

He breathes in the smell of wheat under the scorching summer heat. He embraces it. He puts one foot ahead of the other, sea legs no longer present. The ground is too still that it still sometimes unnerves him.

A few meters away, he catches sight of the house. The windows wide open, the breeze making the curtains dance within. And on his porch is a familiar figure that had lowered her book and peered in his direction. He sees her face, and relief encompasses his bones. Sarah.

She’s running to him, yelling, loud and youthful and her face is like the sun. He feels himself smiling, too. The first time in weeks. Miles of walking and sleepless nights fade away with each step you take closer together. Then she’s running to his arms squealing as he embraces her.

Tell me. Is this really then Ithaca?

Finally, the years that separate the little family are slowly bridged. He rebuilds. He tells her stories. He tells her about you. When the sun sets, he tucks Sarah in and kisses her forehead.

Now, here he is. A couple of months that feels like decades have passed him by. He dreamt of you every night for the past three weeks. He sits in his bath, wondering if this was ever how you felt in those long, terrifying days. Did you feel peace, too?

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea, by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown.

His eyes fall shut. His breath slows.

A moment of peace as he sees your face, smiling at him, languid hands reaching and asking him to follow you.

He hears your voice, singing into his ear as he chuckles.

Until human voices wake us, and we drown.

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @boofy1998 @persephone-girl @lunxramour @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pirate!joel miller x siren!reader #pirate!joel miller #pirate!au #siren!au #mermaid!au

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technologyculturedneo · 9 months

Text

Sensing & Feeling

Donghyuck ft Dream members

PAIRING. Donghyuck!deaf x Reader!siren

Synopsis. You’re on edge when a group of boys trespass and attempt to steal from your charming lake of riches. You know that with your sound and song, they’ll easily get captivated and drown with your tunes being the last thing they hear. However this time, your song fails to work on one. With no fear, he looks you straight in the eyes and doesn’t fret. He’s allured and fascinated by you, and so are you. For the first time in so long, you hear a beat in your heart and you think you’ve fallen in love.

WC. 7k

Playlist. On the chain. Myuu. Ludwig Gorranssom Sirens. Jibaro soundtrack (w/ ending screams)

They’re being watched.

Donghyuck stops in his tracks, turning around to have a look at the forest again. Even if he can’t hear, he can see. And the rest of his senses are sharp enough to tell that somebody or something is watching them, following there every move. Peering around the colorful rosy, thick and leafy evergreen forest, with its wild and striking green wilderness, Donghyuck tries to get his eyes away from the captivating and alluring beauty trying to search or even find the source that’s making him feel uncomfortable. He can’t see it. But he surely knows that something, or someone is looking at him.

He jerks to the side when a hard hand hits his shoulder. Turning to Mark, Donghyuck slightly raises his arms working his hands in a pattern of communication. Mark, with his eyes solely on the rapid moving fingers, sighs and drops his cigarettes bud on the ground when it’s finished. He gets his other hand out his pocket visually moving his hands- yet stuck in the habit of saying his words out loud. “There’s nothing there. Stop looking around or else you’ll get lost.”

Donghyuck humph’s balling his fists before eagerly opening his palm to begin expressing his anxiety- hastily moving his fingers and hands in a manner which causes Mark to groan.

“What’s he saying?” Mark rolls his eyes getting his hands back in his pocket while facing Jaemin who asked in wonder being watchful of the pair.

“He’s saying we’re being watched and that he feels something following us.” Mark turns his head to the moving hands of Donghyuck and then facing Jaemin again. “He’s convinced that it started following us since we left the car hours ago. But I’m telling him that nothing’s there.” Mark, although focused on Jaemin has his hands in Donghyuck’s direction signing out that ‘nothing’s there.’

Jaemin turns to Donghyuck awkwardly and clears his throat. “Tell him he’s just being paranoid,” Mark does as told causing Donghyuck’s shoulders to fall as he turns his sharp deadly eyes on Jaemin. Jaemin being attentive to Mark and ignoring the gnawing eyes of Donghyuck, Jaemin scratches the back of his neck. “He really hates me.”

Donghyuck exhales angrily feeling ignored. He troops forward making sure to bump Jaemin’s shoulder hard in the process.

“Ow,” Jaemin holds onto his shoulder facing Mark in irritation. “Why does he always do that to me? It’s not like I’m being mean to him or anything. Fuck, you know, he should’ve been grateful that we even agreed for him to come with his dumb deaf ears.”

“Must be the reason why he hates you man,” Jeno snorts and turns his head back when Donghyuck passes him. Mark walks forward being behind Donghyuck.

“Why?” Jaemin asks louder.

“You keep referring to his ears as dumb and deaf,” Jeno smirks before tossing his arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder and signing with one hand, the only sign language he knows. ‘Are you okay?’

Donghyuck’s beady eyes glance once at Jeno’s fingers and then nodding his head trying to keep his temper at bay. Despite not hearing Jaemin’s comment, Donghyuck knows his place in Mark’s group of friends. If he has to cause a scene now, they would only label him as a typical angry deaf boy.

“No shit, he’s deaf.” Jaemin grumbles. “And dumb,”

“Watch it Jaemin.” This time Chenle gets in on the conversation barely looking back to his friend.

“It should be somewhere around here,” Renjun, navigating the group of fatigued boys behind him with a map, alters his voice louder for all of them to hear. “Okay guys, we’re almost there.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour man,” Jaemin, the last in line, groans out. “My feet are killing me, can’t we just stop?”

“We can’t stop now, we’re so close.” Renjun states as he follows the olden brown mapped route. Wandering and rambling around the forest, they boys get deep and deeper within the dimly lit home of nature. Donghyuck can’t hear the words produced by Renjun, but he surely can tell that Renjun’s legs are not going to stop anytime soon. It’s as if he’s almost possessed.

Being the only one with the map, Renjun is certain of where they are going. However, the sound whispering to his ear is hypnotizing. The sweet melodies feel like a calling, drawing him off the familiar hiking trail and towards the forbidden forest area full of rash cultivation, sharp stones and deep water swamps. At this point, he’s not even himself when being pulled by the unknown voice calling onto him.

And so he leads his friends through a valley filled with shadows and slow forming mists.

In ambience with the clouded sky and descending colors of the once bright green forest has Donghyuck feeling the hairs of his neck rise every time they pass through some trees. Something is surely watching them. He peeks at Mark once, yet his heart heaves in deep isolation, feeling like an outcast when he sees Mark’s lips turned up into a huge smile as he soundlessly laughs. It’s not only Mark, but Jeno as well has moving lips and a large smile on his face engaging in conversation entertaining both Mark and Jaemin.

Donghyuck feels singled out when Chenle taps his shoulder and with broken sign language tries to chat with him. It results in Donghyuck merely pulling a discontent look and all together ignoring him. Not long after, he notices Jisung and Chenle having their own conversation. With no one around him to notice, he sinks his head down grumpily stuffing his hands in his pockets as he follows behind Renjun in barren.

He didn't even want to tag along with Mark for this stupid trip. But Mark convinced him that it would be a fun experience. Donghyuck knew it wouldn't be fun considering they'd be together with the rest of Mark's friends, but he still tagged along in hopes that he'd be able to "fit in" and be "normal".

He tsks and shakes his head. Moving away from the group to take a short leak on a tree stem, he notices how the tree barks have gone from slim to chunky and large.

The tall and secluded trees become thicker and almost impossible to pass through. Donghyuck signs to Mark a few more times that he feels like something is watching them the deeper they go. But as usual, Mark tries to assure Donghyuck that they’re not being watched.

Your head, ever so slowly, peeks out from the waters having 4k vision of the boys treading down the slope leading to your territory. You sink back into the water, following them from the side.

Now trudging and dragging their feet through the high grass, the sky is no longer visible being covered by the vast majority of leaves. The trees go from being slime and tall, to being thick and short, with heavy large leaves dropping down all the way to the ground.

“Renjun are you sure we’re going the right way?” Mark complains. “We’ve been at it for almost three hours now.”

“He’s leading us to our death,” Jeno mumbles trying to joke his way around feeling an excruciating amount of blistering pain on his feet. "Okay, dude I shit you not when I say my legs have reached their maximum limit."

"Well just keep pushing a little longer. I want us to get there at least by sunset." Renjun states, his eyes hooked forward with the goal and aim to reach his desired time frame. "We'll be able to comfortably rest when we get there."

Renjun's words are a bleak whisper of hope, urging everyone to continue walking with the little strength they have. It gets harder to pass by certain amount of branches and thorn covered bushes- but none the less the boys manage to escape serious injuries every time. Complaining, joking around, telling stories and even singing is what gets the boys through their crying legs and drained bodies.

Donghyuck, however, has nothing of entertainment except slightly falling back from the group and deviating on his own to have a closer look at the ethereal plants and vegetation of certain flowers. It’s the type of nature he hasn’t seen before. It’s all so beautiful.

Still being with the group but just a couple of steps back, Donghyuck brings out his water bottle from his backpack drinking on the last drops of his water. Yapping his dry tongue, he swallows dryly and looks to the lake bed that's several meters far from them.

His eyes widen when seeing the lake pond thinking that they’ve finally reached the spring waters. He sprints lightly towards Renjun and pats his shoulder quickly and points at the distance of the flowing waters.

Much to his inaudible ears Donghyuck doesn't hear when the rest of the boys ask him what's wrong. Luckily Renjun catches his drift and begins laughing. "Guys look! We're here!"

Upon seeing the lake bed of waters the boys with their last strength scamper in zeal and excitement- no longer tired but DRAINED and in need of aqua. Getting to the edge of the grass head they each drop to their knees getting their hands in the chilling cold waters and splashing it on their faces.

Jisung however stops just by the edge of the ground feeling uneasy. “Renjun, is this the right spring waters? This doesn’t feel like the place we came to last time.”

Renjun too, for a split second, has confusion looming over him- but within a second, his whole mind is in a trance again and the worried look turns into excitement. “What are you talking about Jisung? Let’s get in the lake.”

Unintentionally being a step ahead, Donghyuck's eyes twinkle and he sticks his whole foot in the water (not caring that he’s soaked his whole shoes and trousers), walking on the uneven rocky surface getting deeper in the water when his eyes make out something shiny and sparkling. Bending down with his knees feeling cool by the cold water, Donghyuck sticks his hand inside the flowing water, touching the unfamiliar yet glittery piece of jewel.

Mark's head strikes up instantly when wind passes by him and his ears tingle when he catches a soft lullaby. A shiver crawls up his whole body and he shakes physically, trembling.

His head slowly turns side to side wondering if the boys can hear it, can feel it, can smell it? But they're sitting by the edge relaxing and massaging their feet in oblivion to the light mist that slowly coats the air. Mark's head seeks for Donghyuck and through the curling vine tree leaves he spots Donghyuck in the water. Bending down and picking up something.

Something in Mark doesn't feel right or at ease when seeing his friend in the water.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, with his heart beating excessively fast. He...he doesn't know why but as soon as he hears the soft gripping lullaby he lunges in the lake hurting himself in the process, causing an alert for the other boys. Mark is wreaking of desperation for the danger he feels that his friend is in.

Meanwhile, Jaemin is the first to spot it. Eyes. Your eyes. A wave of dizziness engulfs him as he moves without thinking and plunges in the water, a lustfulness look covering his eyes. Jeno is alert when Jaemin falls head first into the lake. Without delay Jeno gets in the water- the stony ground scraping him but his attention is on his goofy smiling friend Jaemin who is in a daze.

“She’s so beautiful.” Jaemin mummers, love struck, with drool leaving the side of his lip being mesmerized by just your eyes. Your eyes that are sticking out the water and staring at them.

Just as Mark's about to grab a hold of Donghyuck- his fingers recoil in fret by an eerie scream causing him to grip his ears. Jaemin and Jeno in the water are paralyzed in terror clawing at their ears equally yelling with their eyes rolling back.

"Guys get out the water!" Renjun petrified of the emerging sight of the female yells.

You're unfazed by the confusion rising in the surface level of the boys scream, you sneakily peek out the water only allowing your eyes to momentarily get a look at your prey. It's been a long while since your voice called out to the forest and brought you back prey. This time around you're enlightened to have clocked seven youthful and mature men. You lick your lips, slowly rising out the water to the surface.

Your body is dazzling and glimmering when the little light from the sun hits your skin. Adorned in glitter skin from head to toe, draped in nothing but a gleaming amount of pearls wrapping around your body your hallucination eyes captivates the boys in an eerie lust. Your figure slithers out the water, and unlike the usual mermaid tale, you’ve got legs which equally shine with the glitter and diamond pieces serving as skin.

Mark is paralyzed in place with his hands wedged in his ears as he tries to fight out the echoed scream that he hears on repeat in his head- he can’t get his eyes off you, but he surely can try to resist. He becomes frozen and entranced- not bothering to run! the way Jeno leaps for his life (with Jaemin over his shoulder) trying to get out the water and follow a panicked Renjun, Jisung and Chenle who manifest agony in trying to shut out their ears to the scream withering in their heads.

You smirk, loving how much they’re all trying to resist. You try not to pay attention to the unfazed man on his knees holding onto a piece of your diamond skin. You pay your attention close to Jaemin, who reaches out his love hands to you- but is being yanked by his friend. “So beautiful-”

“Don’t leave me,” You whimper and stretch your own hands out, your eyes drowning him.

He’s easy. So you don’t hesitate to open up your mouth and render your voice out to the men. Once again, the air coils by your screech and the mist grows heavy with all the boys reacting in agony by scratching their ears.

Jaemin grips his ears- his senses foggy and his mind going crazy but then being captivated again and he’s under the spell to draw closer to you. Jeno drops Jaemin to the ground as he also can’t take the sound of your yells echoing in all parts of his head.

Unlike Jaemin who’s easily engulfed by your voice, the other boys are strong in resisting and try to run.

But you’re just at your beginners level. Trying to see which sound frequency gets them attached. And to your luck, Jaemin easily reacts to the easy based scream. Your voice intensifies as you growl from your stomach and have your eyes dead on the group.

The air slowly becomes clear as you approach and walk slowly on the water. You’re slithering from side to side, erotically moving and watching Jaemin crawl before he sprints in the water splashing all over.

A bewitching voice echoes through Mark’s brain, “Come closer,” it spoke over and over like a mantra, soothing hums layered behind the words. But Mark has his head craned upwards in agony, his eyes shut tightly with his head trying to resist.

You have the movements of a dancer, delicately dancing in the water, looking graceful and poised. “Come to me,”

Mark’s legs unwillingly step forward, blindly opening up his eyes as he can no longer resist. But with Donghyuck in his view, he’s snapped out of your trance (but only for a second) and pushes Donghyuck forward.

And just like that, Mark being the second just like Jaemin being the first- to give into your voice and blindly follow in your trance. In an irregular pulling, both Mark and Jaemin dance to a forced tune in their heads-

Donghyuck pushed forward grunts in anger and peers back, only for his eyes to open wide in alert as he watches in silence both Mark and Jaemin in unorthodoxy as they dance- almost forced while trudging in the water. Donghyuck get’s up to grab unto Mark but is stuck when he sees a dancing figure deep in the edges of the water.

Mark is being pulled painfully as he laughs in an inhumane manner trying to get to you. Donghyuck can only watch his friend from behind looking like he’s being yanked and walking above the water instead of drowning. The sight is surely wild, with Mark and Jaemin walking on top of the water. Mark bends in an unconventional way slowly starts sinking with every dancing step he takes forward.

Donghyuck is pushed again into the water- snapping him out of his horror of watching his friend sink- he turns back now seeing the rest of the boys nuts and rushing while dancing in a haunting yet mesmerizing ballad way into the water. Donghyuck can see there’s a form of struggle to their controlled expressions and he doesn’t know what he’s looking at. While Jaemin is head over heels looking like he’s found the love of his life, in just a spilt second, his head shakes and he frantically yells looking shaken with fear. Just like Jaemin, Jeno, the most resistant out of the whole group stops every once in a while getting control of his body before he’s being drawn in such a painful way that he’s back arches in a snap.

Donghyuck can only tie their unorthodoxed dancing to you. Getting a look at you- he stumbles back watching you ushering the boys in hypnotic ballet moves. You’re pulling your arms, standing on your tippy toes enticing them with your nude yet covered glittering body. Your hips rolling around like crazy. Donghyuck, in pure horror stricken notices how the boys rapidly sink while getting closer to you.

Your performance making them dance in a controlled manner sets your heart ablaze in lust, loving the energy of fear wreaking out of them. You dance hard, desire and cravings latching out of you and into them.

All their bodies are half in the water - and half out still struggling.

However, you’re alert when your tunes don’t seem to entice one of them. You can’t seem to get a grip of him, no matter how high you set your voice frequency. He looks feared by you, you like that, but he isn’t dancing or bending to your will, you don't like that. His eyes go from you to one of the boys and you screech in anger at the boy he’s looking at.

Mark feels his bones cracking the most, but so eluded by the enchantment he can’t react but allow his pain to drown. He’s fighting with the water, wanting a chance to survive, but when he loses his grip on the top of the water- his body falls in the water and he struggles to get out. His arms wave and wag in haste- but with you dipping your head in the water to send out one last scream of outrage. Mark’s ears bleed and he swallows the water through his nose and mouth choking and gagging with the water in his throat- dying and hearing your voice.

It’s been a while since Donghyuck had shouted- however this time from the pits of his stomach an unruly cry riots from his lungs. He can’t hear his own voice, but he feels the vibration of his tonsils. “MEL!” His limb and lame mouth scorns out in horror, ‘Mel’ being the nickname he gave to Mark ever since they were little kids, the nickname that he only used whenever sign language couldn’t reach to Mark. As he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t hear how to pronounce Mark- thus his limb mouth would force out the syllables that he learnt of how to say ‘Mark’.

Not only Mark but there's nobody on the surface of the water. With the clear waters, Donghyuck can only see their desperate figures drowning and sinking below.

Your head peeks out the water and you stare intensely at the man. You screech out, but he doesn’t flinch. You cast your hands out in his direction but he merely moves. He falls back in the water crawling back with tears by his eyes. He tries to back up with every step you take forward.

Why isn’t he succumbing to your voice?

You get scared, and hold onto your throat. You let out a little lonely help. “Come to me,” You squeak in confusion. “Don’t leave me alone,”

You’re scared that your power is gone. Visibly, you’re scared that the man isn’t affected. Deep down you’ve always known yourself to be weak, that’s why you used your voice to drown all them man who’d take advantage of you. But yet, your voice, your siren voice stands no chance against him, a mortal man.

You yelp out, your eyes being watery as you step back calling out to him again. “Please come, I’m scared,”

You’re terrified that you’ll succumb to him, so running away, you do a back flip into the water yelling out and diving to the bottom of the waters, trying to feed yourself with the fresh meal of men, perhaps trying to get your power again.

Donghyuck in absolute shock and horror pants out when the little sun that parted the skies seems to go back in hiding. The clouds hide and leave nothing but the grey skies. He’s so out of it, that nothing but him breathing is all that remains in the air.

His lips tremble as he tries to speak, but mumbles into the empty air is what fills his fear. He backs out of the water when seeing your head appear out of the water. Your eyes, a manifesting color of fear display a hint of what can only be described as anger as well as evil. It causes panic inside of Donghyuck and sharply he gets off his feet and is running for his life.

Running where? He doesn’t know. Running where? He can’t hear.

A whimper leaves his lips as he transpires, trying to get out the water- trying to get far away from the lake, far from the blood swimming around the pool of the people he once considered to be Mark’s friends. He’s weak when running endlessly and frantically around.

This isn’t real.

You sneak out of the water, your body slithering in a hypnotic way, soft and delicate, white hair clinging to your skin the more you submerge out of the waters. You’re so delicate and graceful when approaching the knocked out body on the ground. The knocked out body of the man who had been crying. You lay beside him, enclosing your body on his as you wrap your arms gently around him. You breathe him in, smiling and roaming your eyes all over his being.

He’s the one you’ve been waiting for. Placing your hand on his toned chest, running your hand slowly up his torso.

Night falls and you’re dancing doesn’t seize. In slow paced steps, ballet moves manifesting out of you. You protect him in your care, seeing him as someone worthy of your protection. Amongst all the other wanderers. He’s the first to have resisted your lonely cries of help. In serene joy, you rejoice upon feeling your heart being elevated. It’s almost as though you can feel yourself living. Your heart beats again when sensing movements from him.

You leap up in surprise when his grip claws onto your skin keeping you from moving.

Donghyuck can’t fathom what’s reality anymore. Upon hitting myself face first into a tree, his reality spiraled out of the abyss and he fell unconscious. But now, he’s confused upon coming back to his senses and comes face to face with your face. He’s got a tight hold on you, and when he’s up on his feet- he can’t help the growing anger in him when he screams out frightening you.

You’re about to make a run for it- but his shouts turn to tears and he sinks on the ground crying his heart out. You don’t know why he’s crying, but the sounds of his plea call out to you in the same way your voice calls out to lost men.

You fall with him to the ground, and bare his body in your hold. You whimper and pat at his head.

You killed Mark. You aren’t human. You killed Jaemin. You aren’t human. You killed all of them. You drowned them all. They all danced their way to the waters and drowned. You are the reason why he’s all alone in this night.

Is what goes on in Donghyuck’s head when he backs away from you in a lonely state of sadness. Watching you recoil, Donghyuck hugs his knees and cries out.

You stare at his arched figure. “Dance with me,”

You speak out. But he doesn’t move.

Tenderness and warmth is what Donghyuck feels when you hold onto the sides of his face. His eyes are in awe, but he doesn’t move only allows his eyes to hurl out the lost tears.

You get up on your feet, you align your body before him in his view. You sway your hips, side to side your body rolls erotically, your hands reaching out to the stars and you roam them carefully all over your body. Your eyes meet with his. He can see through your beautiful iris that your pupils dilate, he watches as the whites of your eyes turn dark.

Donghyuck can’t stop watching.

His eyes hypnotized by your dance.

He wants to reach out to you, to touch you, to kiss you.

Not knowing that you’re seducing him with just your dance, you pay him no mind when he crawls from the floor with his eyes intoxicated by lust.

It’s the same look Jaemin had when trying to resist you but failing. You pay the look no mind, as you’re just happy to have someone not be afraid of you. Of having someone not taking advantage of you.

Donghyuck, on his knees, wraps his arms around your waist breathing in your ethereal scent. Mark couldn’t make out what the smell was, but Donghyuck can.

You smell like home, and it makes him feel safe. Mark could smell it to. The only difference is that Mark smelt the scent of his mother. But he knew it wasn’t real as his mom passed years ago. This time, Donghyuck can smell the scent of being alive. And it feels like home. His ears are pierced in a way that he can almost hear sounds. He's frightened, but unlike his mind that's free and can move, his body is stuck in place. The fear crawling up his ears when he can suddenly... hear.

He can hear your voice. You're singing. But instead of your siren voice crushing him and rushing him to his death, his entranced and longs for you.

It calms him. You're soft, and kind. Your gentle touch is reassuring him that even though he isn't dead, he is still with you. You take care of him. And you love him.

"What's your name?" You ask in a soft crystal quiet voice.

Donghyuck doesn't know where he gets his voice from, but when he speaks it's as though the weight of being deaf for so long gets off his chest. “D-d-Donghyuck.” He can speak.... now. You tell him your name in return. The sound of your voice, soft like a spring breeze at night, fills him with warmth.

You say his name back. It's beautiful, and the sound is like music to him.

"H-hello," he says. He tries to smile, but his face hurts. He just spoke. He spoke and his voice came out.

“Come with me,” You whisper as you look down at his handsome face. “Come with me to the lake,”

“You’ll kill me.” Donghyuck’s voice fades as his mind snaps out of the trance. You killed his friend. You killed Mark.

“I won’t kill you,” You shake your head. “You’re precious to me. You’re my precious.”

You allow your hands to slide down his hair feeling his lips suddenly kiss the navel of your belly. You allow him to do as he pleases, his lips tracing kisses down your stomach. You roll your head around loving his subtle touches on your body.

Your skin feels tingly and your heart skips every time his fingers graze the spot where the water would hit you. It’s a nice feeling and you wish more than anything for it to never end. You want Donghyuck to keep touching you even if it makes you feel weird.

But then Donghyuck pulls back and looks up into your eyes that are clouded with longing. There’s a glint of something else, something dark and dangerous. When you arch your back to meet his face...His tongue swipes at your lower lip teasingly, asking if you will open up for him.

You smile at him, “Of course I will."

Your hand cups his face, thumb caressing the curve of his cheek. You lean forward and meet him halfway, lips pressing together. A groan leaves his mouth and a low moan erupts from yours. You tilt your head and suck lightly on his bottom lip making him pull harder. He breaks away first, panting slightly.

You laugh giddy, enjoying the feel of his lips that peck yours. He nuzzles his nose against yours. It's been a while since you've last kissed someone- anyone. So to have him on his knees with your lips on him, you can't help but sink over his lap and straddle him as you go on. The feeling of his skin against yours made you moan into his mouth. He tastes like a mix of salt and mint, you don't know which flavor is stronger. And yet somehow it's still a sweet one to you. You don't think twice when you grind your pelvis against his hardening member.

He's not even thinking- and he's under your full control as he tilts his head to the side and moans lowly. It drives you wild, but also satisfies your need for dominance because you're always the boss. You bite his ear and tug harshly on his hair before biting his neck. Donghyuck shudders, a groan escaping his mouth as you bite down again and again on his neck. Although Donghyuck isn't in control of his body, his mind tries to snap him out of the trance you've placed upon him.

He needs to get out of here. He needs to go now. But how?

It's tough to escape especially since you're kissing him without delay and sliding on his body. He's not in control of his body, but he is aware of his clogged senses. He tries to break free- and every time he gives into what you want, he gains a part of control over his body again. From the way you’re kissing him, he figures that you want to have intercourse with him.

Snapping out of it, Donghyuck pulls his hand away from your form when a cut gets into him. He looks into his red palm noticing all the pieces of glitter and diamonds all on his hands. He glances up once at you, and your body is still rolling hypnotically.

With reluctant legs Donghyuck moves close to you placing his hand on your side. Wanting to touch you. You jump, but it’s so enticing to him when he pulls out a diamond dime from your skin. You giggle and flow with your easy moves around his body. He takes his time tracing every inch of your skin. His fingers glide over yours and your face as if trying to memorize the feel of it. You giggle more at how much he cares about each spot on your body. Your lips curl in pleasure under your breath because of his care.

Donghyuck’s ears are all so new to the sound, yet when you depart further from him... his ears get blocked and the sound of life fades from his ears. When you’re not there, he can’t hear.

His body trembles. He wants to hear. He wants to hear the forest and your voice. He wants to hear. And he misses the feel of hearing when the numbness of nothing plays in his ears. So he follows you. Hoping to hear again.

You dive straight into the water, causing the shimmering glitters of your body to illuminate in the water. Without thinking, Donghyuck also dives in.

You swim and swim. Donghyuck follows with his mediocrity swimming.

But unlike his non siren body, he’s unable to swim for a long time. None the less, he’s drenched in water when he seeks to get out the water. He holds onto a rock and climbs out of the water. He’s surprised that you've somehow led him to a cliff waterfall....when seeing that you’re now going up a water fall his eyes are open wide. He can't keep up with you. He looks to the bricked and stony pattern on the wall that also goes up the waterfall.

He resorts to trying to climb it, trying to follow you.

He can’t hear the sounds of the water anymore and it scares him.

The silence which he has feared for so long has returned. Not liking the silence he makes it his mission to follow you.

However when he gets to the top of the water fall edge, he's out of breathe, his senses shoot into him. Was he being controlled to follow you up the mountain or did he follow you himself? Whatever the answer is, he doesn’t care as he sees you sitting on the edge of the water fall.

“Jump in with me,”

He can’t hear you, but he sees your lips moving and he desires to hear again. So he follows you, but at the rate of trying to get his foot on the water, it’s slippery and almost sweeps his feet away. He’ll die if he follows you. So he shakes his head and signals with his hand for you to come to the bricked edge of where he is.

Obediently, you dive in the water and swim to him. Once you’re out the water and parched on the rock with him, you dive in straight for his lips and kiss him in pure happiness and bliss. His hands find their way to your face as he kisses back just as intensely and he feels like he could do this all night-

And just for a split second- he hears his thoughts shouting at him. 'You're under a spell! Don’t let her kill you the way she killed Mark!'

But too deep in the trance to care, he continues kissing you. The spell is breaking though, as his mind snaps back into focus as soon as he realizes that he's not feeling himself or his senses. He's desiring something that wasn't his in the first place.

He's never been able to hear, and he doesn't want to be tricked into hearing- otherwise you'll kill him. Besides it looks already like you're trying to kill him.

With your subtle hints for him to jump or get in the water with you- Donghyuck is no fool. He pulls away from you with a pained expression when your glittering diamond lips cut his own lip a little. You blink at him in confusion before he starts hyperventilating.

He needs to get out of here.

With his friends all dead, he needs to find a way out of this water, away from you. Away from his own thoughts. And he needs to hide. He doesn't know where he'd go, but as long as it's away from this cursed lake then he needed to go.

His thoughts twist for the worse when he realizes that the only way to escape from you...is to hurt you in order to give him time to escape.

Donghyuck tries to feel no remorse when he has a fatal idea in his head.

It only takes a second, but when he head buds your head- a rapid punch from him knocks you unconscious. He stumbles back, but shivers upon your unconscious body landing on him.

He doesn’t know what comes over him, but a feeling of greed enters him. A feeling of anger and hurt enter him. His hands aren’t soft at all when he grips onto your scales and begins to pull your riches off of your diamond skin. He can’t stop pulling, he can’t stop cutting the diamonds off your body. You don’t deserve this, but you do. Your blood is spilled on Donghyuck’s hands. You’ve tainted him. But he could care less. You've just killed his best friend and where trying to kill him.

He needs to escape.

Whenever he tosses out the pearls and beautiful ornaments off your body, he flushes them down in his own leather jacket pocket watching your body bleed out. He continues to rampage your body of all the jewels and dimes hoping that even if he does get off this creepy forest and perhaps the car ran out of petrol then he could at least get some petrol with the real diamonds from your body. Maybe even some food or even transfer all the jewels for money. He lived with Mark and Mark was the sole provider for all his needs- how would he pay for things if he had nothing on him?

So ho doesn't stop pulling the dimes of your body.

It’s not until all his pockets are full does he get up. And from the edge of the dark waterfall, with a bitter heart when thinking that you killed Mark, he pushes you off the edge and watches your body flow with the river water and sinks in.

The sight of your sinking body reminds him of Mark drowning in agony by your tunes.

Donghyuck begins his journey in trying to get out the water. Trying to find his way back. If he can at least get to the car that was abandoned for this trip, he knows he can get home and explain what he has just seen.

Nearly falling off the edge a couple of times, he manages to stay alive and hold carefully onto the trees for support.

He starts running. Running through the narrow path of trees, running through the heavy and rash bush. Surely Renjun wasn’t keeping to the map anymore, because there’s no trail here. Donghyuck doesn’t stop, but continues running. His heart beating fast.

“Why?”

He stops abruptly when he hears a light wail. He’s heart freezes when holding onto his ear. He turns his head around frantically like a mad man when the sounds of fireflies are heard bouncing into his ears.

His ears don’t sound blocked anymore.

He runs up the slope, trying not to get distracted by the odd cries he can suddenly hear. He runs in speed now, trying to get away from your voice. He knows it’s you because the same way he felt as though he was watched, he can feel it again, but this time he can smell you too. Remembering the path when seeing the cigarette bud that Mark was smoking- he thanks the heaven that he got a chance to escape.

However, he panics when he looks back and hears another wail.

It sounds close this time.

“Donghyuck why?” You cry out.

He can feel himself being lured as images flash in his head of your body, rejected and abandoned.

"Why don't you want to dance with me?"

Donghyuck isn’t aware of his body being pulled and dancing through the forest, nor does he sense his vision blacking out from time to time. But when he does sense that something is controlling him- he pulls his head back and slaps himself- breathing in fear. He shakes his head when looking around the dark forest.

No.

He’s back.

"Donghyuck why don't you want to stay with me?"

His ears pick up on the disturbing sounds again. Sounds of crying and he shakes his head trying to escape. But in escaping, he doesn’t get far.

"It's lonely down here."

To his surprise, he finds himself back where he ran away from.

The lake.

"Just stay with me."

Watching as his body leads him closer to the waters, he makes out your hunched bloody form, standing on the water. Although it’s dark, you stretch your hand out in sadness as a tear slips from your eye.

“Donghyuck~”

You whelp out and Donghyuck plunges into the water but screams out in agony. ”No!”

“How could you?” You cry out and a loud screech pours out of you. Donghyuck dives back in the water after attempting to escape again. With the forces of nature hearing your cry, they trap Donghyuck and feed into his ears your cry. “Come.”

You scream out in agony. Your heart letting out a broken and devastated cry.

As you allow your fingers to pull on him like a puppet- your heart breaks at the thought of drowning him. You don’t want to kill him, you’ve just met him and think you’ve fallen in love... you don’t want to hurt him. But you want to hurt him.

You want him to stay with you. "Come to me,"

So instead of killing him, you just make him dance.

He falls into the water again after attempting to escape. He blindly follows and scratches his ears in pain his throat hoarse from all the yelling. He can’t even see you anymore, as he gets dizzy when his arms frantically move up in controlled movements.

Your pain is seething out of you as you yell again and Donghyuck can’t take the bursting excruciating sounds of his ears popping by a high volume screech. Your dark ocean eyes feed into your pain as you control him and watch him dance to your tune. You can feel it. That his death should be more painful and bitter compared to the rest.

The problem is, it hurts your heart to watch him hurt. He’s your first love. The first man to not succumb to your voice. With that thought in mind, you grow angry and reach your hands out to him balling your fists and allowing his body to stay afloat on the water and not drown just yet.

You still want to see his face. You still want to see him.

Even though it’s hurting you and you’re crying, you can’t help but still make him dance.

“Come to me Donghyuck,” You speak. Despite his body sinking into the menacing waters you keep him up trying not to drown him yet.

You want him to suffer. Suffer for hurting you. But at the same time, you don’t want him to suffer.

After all, he had a choice.

He just chose the wrong one.

You fall to your knees above the water, having your way with him.

Donghyuck in an intense amount of pain watches the tears pour out from your bloody scarred face, your long white hair being drenched and coated in your blood where it was once beautiful. When Donghyuck makes out your sad face, you look broken and hurt.

Unlike the rest of your prey drowning instantly after hearing the sounds of your voice, you make Donghyuck die slowly. You don’t want him to die. You just wished he listened to your voice and stayed with you, and danced with you.

As he’s sinking and forced to drink and inhale the noise piercing water- he gags out- coming face to face with your deranged bloody form crying out to him. The sounds of your cry are worse then the sounds of your scream, as Donghyuck feels ounces of guilt flooding in him.

The moment you let out another weep of misery, Donghyuck stills and allows you to toy him in a brutal way. Your hands having full control with his body. He doesn’t fight you anymore, he doesn’t resist his fate, he blindly obeys and submerges himself into the depths of the ocean.

He was going to die anyway- so there was no use trying to fight.

You plop your head in the water screaming out and bursting at his ears until you’re sure that he’s dead, but he’s not dying yet (because you don’t want him to).

"Donghyuck."

Your teary eyes watch him sink slowly, with his arms out. He’s still swallowing the water and it hurts him so badly. He doesn’t know why he’s not dying, but he does know that the look you’re looking at him with is breaking your heart.

As a last way to repent he signs out.

I'm sorry

Maybe it was because of the misunderstanding, but Donghyuck knew that you wanted to stay with him and that you were lonely being alone. He understood it because it’s what he felt all the days of his life. No one to talk to, and the one he wants to talk to has friends. So Donghyuck can feel your pain, but at the same time, he knows that he didn’t belong with you. He didn’t feel attached to you, but he felt attached to your pain.

When your eyes are on his hands, you see them move in a pattern of the way he talks, but in anger you reject his apology and yell from the bottom of your heart bursting off his ears with your most deadliest of tunes.

His eyes shut, and once his body dims and disappears at the bottom of the water, you cry while sitting alone. He's dead. And it is because of you. The world would have been better if you just died instead of having to watch those you love die. You don't even deserve to live anymore, but you're cursed and there's nothing you can do. You think, as tears stream down your face.

From above the waters, you can feel that you're being watched. Watched from everyone you've killed.

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