Car is still broken down, will be without it for at least a couple weeks rip.
I have become the carer of a very injured wood pigeon, it is currently in my room waiting for the food I’m preparing for it, and I’m keeping it safe until the charity I’ve contacted can come pick it up to take care of it correctly.
Still, becoming an interim carer for a pigeon wasn’t on my bingo cards lmao
What should I name the lil fella?
I think it’s a fella, looks to be anyway.
Chuck. I’ll call him Chuck. Oh. Or maybe Norris?
He’s a fighter so I’ll actually just call him Chuck Norris.
♯┆ You had to live through your childhood tragedy once more. The ship was sinking and you braced yourself for the inevitable - surely the sea won't show mercy twice.
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ cw: mdni! fem!reader, sinking of a ship, descriptions of drowning, mentions of death & dying, injuries, blood, the ugly side of sirens.
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ notes: i am SO excited to bring my passion project into tumblr as well hehe ♡ the series is finished and has roughly 52k words
masterlist
What are the odds of sinking on a boat once?
The statistic floats in your mind like debris, as if knowledge might anchor you to reason in the middle of screaming wind and breaking wood. You'd read it once, years ago on some bored midnight internet search. One in a million, maybe. The sort of once in a lifetime thing that scars your childhood and becomes a strange, isolating footnote you carry forever.
But twice? Twice felt personal.
Twice screamed that the sea gods were angry.
Rain blurred the world into grey streaks, cold and relentless as it drove into your skin. The world became nothing but noise - snapping sails, splintering beams, someone's voice yelling your name before it was swallowed by thunder, yet your body couldn't move, couldn't even scream. The cold has always done that to you, paralyzed your lungs and shrunk your world down to the roar of blood and memories.
You stood near the railing, shoes soaked and hands curled uselessly at your sides. Around you the ship cracked and screamed, groaning like something alive and dying. The wedding decorations - white silk streamers and fairy lights - were in shreds, flapping wildly and trailing across the ruined deck like ghosts.
It all started so gently with your friend's wedding. That's the only reason why you had come, the only reason you were on this doomed celebration cruise. Your friend had begged you "Just one night on the water," she said. "The ocean’s calm this time of year. It'll help you let go of the past."
Let go... And now the sea took everything once again.
The deck heaved beneath you, sharp and sudden and you stumbled hard against the railing. Somewhere behind you, a mast cracked in two, the sound deafening and haunting. The panic on ship grew louder now, screams, feet pounding, someone was crying - but none of it touched you. You felt like you were sinking already, before your body had even left the ship.
The cold spray of saltwater hit your eyes and then something else, hard and fast, maybe something metallic based on the sound. A burst of pain immediately bloomed behind your temple, sharp and electric. You didn't even know what it was and couldn't bring yourself to care as you braced for the inevitable. The sea would swallow you whole. It had spared you as a child, but it wouldn't show mercy a second time as your world started to spin.
And then - Nothing.
There was no memory of the fall, no gasp as you hit the water. Just a blur of darkness and the cold, the kind that swallowed breath and thought alike. You surfaced some time later, not knowing how long it had been. Seconds, maybe even minutes? All you could do was to clutch onto a piece of the ship, torn wood slick with seawater and blood. One of your legs hung heavy in the water, as if someone - or something - tried to drag you under. The other stung sharp with every kick while your arms shook with the effort of holding on, of staying afloat. A pulsing ache throbbed from one of your thighs and when you tried to lift your head from the wooden piece, you could taste blood on your tongue.
Above, the sky was a shattered bruise of lightning and smoke, the clouds bleeding violet light. Bits of the ship bobbed in the water like the scattered bones of some fallen creature. You didn't know where the others had gone - whether anyone had survived, whether they were screaming for help or were already at the bottom of the ocean.
All you could do was float, adrift and half awake with your lips turning violet-blue from the cold, heart pounding too loud in your chest and no strength left to call for help. Yet, your fingers refused to let go of the broken plank that held you above water. Splinters began to dig into your skin, but you only held on tighter, as if letting go would mean surrendering entirely. Saltwater lapped at your lips, turning them dry and letting the delicate skin crack as your vision blurred.
And somewhere, far beneath the surface, the sea stirred.
At first, it was only a feeling, a weight, invisible and unspoken that settled over your skin like a change in pressure. You opened your eyes slowly, vision clouded by salt and rain and the plank you clung onto creaked faintly beneath you, the water lapping violently against the sides. Across from you, half submerged in the dark water, something watched.
Only the top of a head was visible - pale strands of long, lavender hair drifting around it like smoke, fanning out in a halo. The water cradled it, eerily still despite the storm. It just floated there with unnatural calm and just above the surface, a pair of glowing violet eyes stared directly into yours. They didn't blink - neither did you.
Your heart should have seized. You should have cried out, kicked or let go to flee. But none of these things happened. Your body was too tired, your mind too disoriented to recognize if this was someone alive or perhaps one of the wedding guests simply...floating. As your vision cleared up, you could tell that this wasn't human, at least not entirely.
On the other side of the wood, Rafayel lingered just beneath the surface, his head barely visible to you and his breath slowed to match the pulse of the sea. He simply watched you drift closer to unconsciousness, each blink slower than the last and your lips were entirely blue with deep cracks. A thin smear of blood still trickled from the cut at your brow - You were fading. Quietly and without protest.
Most of them screamed or tried to put up a fight, it made their panic easier to ignore, and made the line between predator and prey clear. But you weren't screaming, simply staring back at him like you had nothing left to give, least of all to him. No fear, no defiance. Only quiet exhaustion and acceptance.
He should have disappeared by now, not be enamored by your lack of reaction. Observe, lure, drag down, devour. He knew how it goes, it was an automated process that ensured his survival.
Your body slowly sagged lower and the piece of wreckage creaked once more, your weight shifting. Rafayel's eyes followed you with cool precision, noticing the weakness in your limbs, the slack curve of your fingers and the hollow shadows beneath your eyes. You wouldn't last much longer.
You saw him enough to know what he was and what he wasn't and yet, your gaze softened. Not in recognition, but in surrender... Until they closed completely.
Your head lulled forward and with a small splash, you began to slide off the wood. The gravity finally tipped you into the black of the water as your unconscious body couldn't help but to accept its fate - your lungs taking their last breath of air before they would fill with water, slowly, until all of you succumbed to the ruthlessness of the ocean.
He moved before he thought.
One hand shot up from the water and caught you just beneath the shoulders, guiding you back with startling gentleness. Your head rolled against his arm in the process but he simply cradled it above the ocean's surface in a way that the water had no chance to reach your lungs. His instincts told him to devour you whole while you couldn't put up a fight, while you had no choice but to give in to the predator who caught you - but he ignored them, forcing himself to remain calm.
Rafayel held you a moment longer, your weight slight and delicate in his arms, reminding him of a situation oh so many years ago. Then, without a word, he turned and began to swim. Each movement was smooth, powerful, as if the current bent itself around him. He held you cradled in his arms, body limp and not a single muscle stirred. Your breath was faint, but present - like seafoam against his skin.
He had watched you long before you even saw him - only surfaced when he sensed the panic blooming across the wreck. The scent of blood trailed like ribbons through the dark and led him straight to you, and when your eyes locked with his, it wasn't mercy that stilled him. It was thrill. The anticipation of taking a bite, of tearing you limb by limb, of hearing your screams turn into gargles as he mercilessly dragged you beneath water.
Fear always fascinated him. There was something raw and so honest in it that nothing could quite compare. A primal urge, he had seen it in your eyes, in the way your pupils dilated, how your jaw tensed despite the exhaustion weighing your body down. He saw the flicker of knowing inside your eyes, knowing that something wasn't right - that he wasn't safe. You couldn't run or scream, but your fear was ever present. And oh how he enjoyed it.
He shouldn't have lingered, knowing the rules all too well: Do not play with your food or you will end up on their plate. But where was the pleasure in mindlessly devouring? Where was the thrill in dragging something down that didn't even know it was dying? A little fear made the flavor richer, a little dread gave the ending a meaning. But somehow you just… accepted it - and that unnerved him more than he would like to admit.
Your warmth slowly started to bleed into his cold skin which only aided to dull the instinct to feed and be done. Rafayel tried convincing himself that it was pity, a passing whim, but still, his grip on you tightened ever so slightly as if he's scared to risk seeing you drift off with the tide.
The jagged silhouette of a rock formation loomed ahead, slick with the salty water and painted silver by each pulse of lightning that bloomed across the raging skies. It wasn't much, but it was enough for you to breathe, enough to make you believe that you survived by chance alone. At least that was the initial plan - to leave you with salt in your mouth and dread in your bones. To let you believe that the sea had spared you once more.
But as he eased you from the water and laid you onto the stone, his fingertips ghosted across the blood slick gash on your leg. His eyes lingered on the curve of your face, the fragile rise and fall of your chest. And somewhere deep within, something stirred. A sense of familiarity bloomed inside his chest and made him realize that he wasn't sure if he would want to let you go, which somehow frightened him more than the thought of starving ever could.
The world ebbed in and out like the sea itself, each wave of consciousness pulling you further from shore. You weren't even sure when your body was moved onto something solid - cold beneath your skin but still drenched by the sea. But you could feel the jagged stone pressing into your back, anchoring you in your place. Your limbs were far too heavy to lift, skin numb with cold and you weren't sure why the ocean decided to spare you once more.
Your thoughts wanted to form, to try and find a way out of the water and back to land but the voice that came from just below the waves made it impossible to think straight. The voice was low and rich, smooth in a way that felt unnatural, too perfect to belong to anything human. The melody curled through the air like mist, sweet and gentle, almost like a lullaby - but the cadence was strange, the language foreign and laced with sounds that rolled like foam off a reef. You couldn't place it, couldn't tell if this was truly a voice or something your mind conjured in exhaustion to make leaving this life easier, but it wound itself around your senses and refused to let you go.
A soft chill crept over your skin, but something deep inside of you was recoiling, even as your body relaxed. The voice made you feel calm, yes - but not safe. The calmness it brought felt borrowed and false, as though something beneath that melody tugged at the strings of your mind with too much ease. You tried to lift your head and open your eyes fully, but the effort only made them flutter and fall shut completely. Your breathing became more shallow while your consciousness slipped like sand through broken fingers.
The memory of those violet eyes surfaced behind your lids, how they were just watching you with a subtle glow to them and it made your chest tighten. Even though you could no longer see him, you could still feel his presence near, just out of reach.
You didn't want to sleep, not ready to fade yet, but your body was already letting go. Your thoughts were scattered like driftwood as darkness gathered at the edges of your mind, soft and irresistible. The cold, the blood loss, the song - it all wove together too seamlessly. Your last conscious thought wasn't of the wreck, it was that a voice so beautiful could lead you so gently into oblivion.
You didn't see him rise from the water, didn't feel the gentle droplets land on you as Rafayel emerged to settle beside you. His gaze swept over you deliberately, as if he was trying to understand what exactly he had just saved. One hand moved with reverent care to brush the tangled and damp hair from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment too long against your cheek. A moment later, the smallest smile formed on his lips, not cruel, but indulgent.
"Twice now," he mumbled and looked out at the open waters. "You really don't have luck on your side, little thing."
*shaking and sweating* "be normal about that old man. be normal about that old man. be normal about that old man-" *desires the old man carnally* "-FUCK."
