resurfaced

"I'll keep practicing," Nehir said in response, the words somehow releasing the man in question. Was she perfect in this regard? No. Surely someone with a stronger will, in a different position, would likely find more to be afraid of, and more reasons to resist. But she'd get stronger. She'd flex this muscle like she did all of the others at her daily gym visits. If there was one thing Nehir had perfected, it was the meaning of routine.

She stared at Zyrynd, looking very much like the lovesick puppy that anyone from the outside would claim her to be. The only difference was, this puppy had the ability to control people. It meant that gentle, reliable hands had to be in charge of keeping that power to themselves, lest it ever be used against them.

"I like it when you boss people around. You should boss me around next."

#complete #ch: zyrynd #ch6: zyrynd #lov our fucked up guys

“You may go,” said Zyrynd to Frederick. He could see the small stumble in his step as the hold Nehir had on him was broken. Whatever he might have thought about being used as a guinea pig in this experiment, didn’t come through if only because he hurried away so quickly. Whether he was just following orders or simply trying to remove himself from the situation before he could be used for anything else was unknown.

Zyrynd’s entire focus was on Nehir. “Then you’ll like being a part of this,” he said. “It’s nothing but my telling people what to do all day long.” And really, Nehir was in too deep. She had no choice. From the moment Zyrynd told her about his entire enterprise, she was stuck.

“I think that can be arranged. And the first thing I want you to do is go to the bedroom and wait for me like a good, little siren.”

the end.

"Oh god. I don't need a list. Or a porno." Her laughter was loud, infectious, helped along by the champagne. The old women at the table next to them looked absolutely scandalised now, and Dawn didn't care. "No, I -- I feel more ready than I ever have, I think. At the start of the year I put so much pressure on myself. To go on these dates with men I met online just for the sake of it, making up excuses to write them off before I even met them."

She took a small sip of her drink. "I don't think apps are for me. But I think if -- if it came down to it, if I met someone. I feel ready for it. My hearts less closed off."

"You're too much of a romantic I think. And I mean, I can be romantic. I like romance. But you're looking for some mystical force that tells you to be with someone." A lightbulb went off in Nehir's head. It was likely visible as her entire expression changed in an instant. "You should go to a fortune teller! That would be fun! Get them to read your palm or something. Tell you who you should be looking for in a partner."

Did she believe in that sort of thing? Not necessarily. But it sounded like fun, and that was the only thing Nehir actively believed in. Fun ruled above all else.

“Well, if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll remain loyal.” After all, once you were in Zyrynd’s criminal organization, there was no getting out. Death was the only way out, and Frederick, at least, knew this. “Besides, I pay him handsomely and I know he has a family to support, so I’m sure he will continue to work just as he always has for me. He would be unable to find such a lucrative position elsewhere.” Because, of course, Zyrynd would make it impossible one way or another.

“I think you’re right, though. He shouldn’t go to waste. No point in getting rid of him when I would need to find someone else to replace him with. And it was already so hard to get ahold of him.”

"I like it when you boss people around. You should boss me around next."

Dawn raised her brow slightly, an amused look on her face. It was classic Nehir. She loved her friend, but she knew where her faults lied, just as Nehir did hers. That Nehir loved the glamour, the money, the idea of fame. Why else was she normally the one Dawn brought with her to fancy parties? But she could easily get caught up in the dream of it all. She didn't mention that now though. Soon enough she'd meet this mystery man she heard about only in fragments. She could judge then. "Can't wait"

"Stop. Stop, oh my god." Dawn laughed, head dropping into hands. "My flexibility is fine." Surely. She knew what she liked, and despite everything she'd always loved sex. As the laughter died down, she added, "It's -- I don't know. It's like a constant battle between my head, my heart, and my desire to just be picked up and thrown on a bed." A small sigh. "And I really want to be picked up and thrown on a bed. Or a couch. Or up against a wall. I'm not fussy." Yet the other two kept getting in her way.

"You should make a list of everything you want someone to do to you. That way you're fully prepared when the time is right."

Nehir wasn't someone who kept lists, but she was surprisingly in control of her life. The thing was, everything came fairly easy for her. She rarely needed alarms. Her brain never skipped an important date or time. Those things stuck with her, pen and paper, or a notes app being made completely and totally worthless.

"Or, maybe writing the list would get you so horny that you'd be forced to finally face the music and go out and meet someone. Consider that! Or, or! Watch a dirty movie or two while writing said list."

Zyrynd watched the way his man didn’t hesitate. He listened to Nehir’s words, moving and stopping on her command. Honestly, he was shocked that sirens still remained under the sea with all this power they had.

“I’m sure you have,” he said. “Men would die for nothing just because you told them too.” And he meant that quite literally. That is what sirens did, isn’t it? Seafaring men, and women even, often died simply because they drowned due to a siren’s song. The legends didn’t come from nowhere, after all. “What will Frederick die for? I’m sure you could make that happen.”

Nehir smiled gently. "What do you want him to die for? I work for you, don't I?" She was impressed with herself. Feeling as though she had passed, one that surely no one else could see. It was like that a lot with her. Whether things existed or not, Nehir scored herself based off of nothing more than her own belief system. It was most likely what attributed to her odd sense of self-worth and confidence.

"He seems like someone who shouldn't go to waste right now, not when he was so willing to walk into the room in the first place. The question is, what will he do when he snaps out of the trance? When he realizes what I did?"

"Please. You know I can't stand not knowing about this mystery man any longer." She wasn't even joking. She loved listening to Nehir's stories - they were more fascinating than any gossip blog - they might even have Love Island OC beat out. Just.

"You're right, you're right. I know you're right. It's ridiculous -- I'm twenty-eight and I'm out here just --" She stopped, shaking her head, knowing she wasn't being fair on herself. She could hear her therapists voice telling her to be kinder to herself. "Maybe we skip the speed dating and go straight to a night out. Get bottle service, wear a new dress. Find some hot guy who's name I don't ever even need to know --" the fact the idea didn't completely turn her off was growth in itself. It sounded fun - like who she used to be. She loved nothing more than dancing until you didn't realise hours had passed. The old ladies tutted again, and this time Dawn turned and looked them straight in the eye before turning back to her friend. "I feel like a silly school girl right now. Like we're out here planning how I'm going to lose my virginity at prom."

"I'll see what I can cook up," Nehir replied, before letting that drop completely. She enjoyed having something hanging over Dawn. A big secret, a big surprise. Not even in a mean, cruel way, Nehir just enjoyed games and playing coy. It was a part of her personality whether anyone wanted it to be there or not.

She giggled, loud and as bubbly as it could possibly sound. "Should we start discussing techniques, then? How's your flexibility fairing? Remember to not get to slobbery with it all, no one likes cleaning up spit afterwards. Unless that is a kink that's involved, and in that case, don't listen to me at all." Nehir could have discussed this for hours on end. If she were a straight man, she would've already started a podcast on the subject.

“Secretive? Goodness,” she took a sip of her wine. When it came to Nehir, it could be anyone. She’d listened to her talk about dates about so many people, and she wouldn’t be surprised if her friend ended up dating a movie star, or the mayor.

"God, I know. I know!" Hands went to covered her face for a brief moment. She wasn't embarrassed. Dawn knew Nehir had no way of understanding exactly what went through Dawn's head when she thought about having sex with someone. It had gotten to the point she hadn't even felt desire like that for someone in so long. Except for well -- she wouldn't dwell on that. "I think you’re right. I've tried, but I think I tried too soon. And now it's like I barely even remember what it's like to actually want to rip someone's clothes off. Like my body hasn’t caught up." A small sigh as she took a drink. She missed it — the intimacy, the simplicity of connecting with someone. It had taken a long time for her to get to the point that she could admit that to herself, to not feel like she was cheating. And yet she still felt blocked somehow.

"Maybe I'll be able to convince him to have you over to his place for dinner. He has a penthouse apartment. Can you believe it?" Nehir wasn't the kind to brag, it was just that her entire personality could be accidentally abrasive and brag-adjacent. She simply knew what she wanted and went for it without any care about anything else in the world. In fact, she had mostly moved into Zyrynd's apartment, whether he was fully aware of that or not.

Nehir sighed deeply for her friend, not even imagining the horror of going that long without someone else making your orgasm. Or at least attempting to. "We need to change that! Just do it all in stages. Besides, it's like, really fun to kiss people at random. You don't need to fuck the first person you find. A chaste kiss is a good first place to start."

Zyrynd smiled as he watched the demonstration. He was keen to see what Nehir could do, the effect was almost immediate. It was almost as if she had the ability to turn some sort of charm on and off. His lackey’s expression went from serious and rigid to slack-jawed to one of dreamy bliss. It was fascinating to watch.

Frederick moved forward with no hesitation. He was a man who was suddenly ready to do anything Nehir asked of him. Anything to make her happy. This wasn’t just a job he did because he was paid an exorbitant amount like Zyrynd offered. No, he was eager because he wanted to please her and make her happy. It was certainly the cloudy effect that her voice had on him.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to see what a siren could do,” said Zyrynd. It seemed that, at the very least, because Nehir was commanding Frederick and Frederick alone, her song didn’t have the same affect on him as it did on poor Frederick. Of course, he wondered if he ought not invest in some siren-proof headphones. Just in case. A good mob boss was always prepared, after all.

"Frederick, stop." Her words were both smooth and harsh. They snuggled up to Frederick while continuously choking him into submission. He had no choice but to both be in love, and follow orders to the letter. Nehir smiled to herself, pleased to know that she could be useful to Zyrynd. That, looking at him now, she had impressed him in some capacity that she hadn't been able to before. Nehir was keening. Flourishing under attention, all while controlling a man's life with little care or thought beyond what that might mean in the future.

Nehir flicked her eyes to Zyrynd. "I've watched men die for less. Usually ones that tried to steal from my family, or hunt us down. But it's easy to convince someone to change their mind if they're really listening." And they were always listening. Pretty faces were powerful, but a pretty voice always went above and beyond anything else.

Men died for less.

Dawn let out a laugh. "I'm not upset. It'd be fun. And we can go out after." Another thing Dawn loved about Nehir, is they could always have a good night out. It had helped over the years, when Dawn needed a night to just not think. An eyebrow arched over champagne flute as she looked at her friend. "You've let me ramble about another bad date and you're out here with someone no one can compete with?"

A small sigh as she stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork. "I think you're right. It's been so long, if it weren't for my vibrator I'd think it had sealed itself up." She'd tried, early on in her road to healing, but she'd barely even gotten to a proper kiss, let alone getting into bed with someone else. Like her body froze up. For a girl who loved sex, she'd had a severe lack of it for the second half of her twenties.

"That's because it's all very secretive," Nehir stated, pleased with herself. "Well, not that secretive. I think we've been photographed together a few times, but he's fairly important, so I think he's trying to keep things as low key as possible." Besides, at this point, Nehir was convinced that Zyrynd couldn't live without her. That through all of this, he was desperately obsessed and in love. Anything else was preposterous. No man threw money around so easily, or gave her this much protection, for nothing.

Nehir let out a loud, almost ugly laugh. Almost. "You really haven't had sex in that long? Dawn. Dawn. That's complete madness. You need to find a stranger right now, a very delicious looking stranger, and just let it happen. That might take the pressure away when you actually want a real relationship with someone. Or just like, do it all in very slow stages. Kiss someone random. Then get off with them over clothes, and then—" A pair of elderly women behind them cleared their throats simultaneously. Nehir shot them a glare.

"Should I start by practicing on you?" The idea was a serious one, born out of her own sudden need to prove to Zyrynd that she wasn't some pathetic, desperate, hapless victim. That she could be fearsome, too. That within her was a kind of power that no one could believe existed in the first place. If only it had been created out of her own desire, and not the kind that was intended to impress him. Maybe then one might claim it was self-determination, and not a lovestruck woman, doing what she could to keep the attention squarely on herself.

Her entire body shivered when he grabbed her throat, no alarm bells ringing, only an easy hum filled her ears. Like here, at his mercy, was exactly where she was meant to be all along. A fixture in his life. Something his hands were being forced to stay on, if only because he couldn't bear to put them anywhere else. There was power in being controlled, Nehir told herself. She was easy to persuade.

"I want to find the men who tried to take me, and I want to watch them walk into the ocean and drown themselves."

Zyrynd didn't answer her question right away, instead he gave her his usual smirk. "Frederick," he yelled out, a man running in immediately, the clothes he wore clearly marked him as part of the security team that Zyrynd kept on hand. He wasn't going to say no, because saying no might send the wrong message. Instead, he brought in some lowly grunt she could practice on. Someone disposable, someone that wasn't himself, because Zyrynd wasn't going to say no but, he would still grant her that option.

"Then we'll find them," he promised her. "We'll find them and have them all drowned, no matter how many of them." Zyrynd had the resources to do something like that, after all. In the end, it would be to his benefit. Remove any potential competition.

Nehir turned to the man who walked through the door, a sly smile on her face that she usually saved when she was sure she was about to have a man take her home. It was all confidence and power. Like at that moment, the world very much did revolve around her. "Hello, Frederick," she began, her voice sickly sweet. The kind of tone that was, in and of itself, a warning to anyone who might come closer.

But Frederick didn't have a choice at the moment, and even if it wasn't Zyrynd she was intent on commandeering, she wasn't about to let anyone down. Not when her bravado had gotten her in this spot in the first place.

When she next opened her mouth, it was with words to a song spoken in a different language. One she hadn't spoken in ten years, but it flowed through her more easily than water. Her eyes were closed, her body almost suspended. And then, it switched.

"Come here, Frederick." Gone was the sweetness. Long past was the warmth. It was no longer a suggestion that he move, but an order. "Come here, and I'll sing for you."

Zyrynd smiled at her proposal. “I could, you know. I could teach you how to be feared. Get you anything that you want, and also have people obey you. Listen to you. You could have them wrapped around your finger.” Anyone else might have thought it a bad idea, after all it was Nehir. However, the trick was to make sure that no matter what, Nehir would still defer to him, and after all, part of manipulation was making sure that the victim didn’t know they were being manipulated. What better way to do that than to think they had any power?

Zyrynd hummed. “You know, you should,” he said. “I never wanted to push the issue, but think of all that you could do if you were willing to use that voice of yours.” As he spoke, his hand held her chin, holding her head up, but slowly that hand moved down to her throat, squeezing but not with enough pressure that she might be hurt or even alarmed. “Just think of what you and I could accomplish.”

He let go of her throat, his hand settling on her waist now, holding onto her and maintaining that point of contact. “What do you want to do to retaliate?”

"I want to find the men who tried to take me, and I want to watch them walk into the ocean and drown themselves."

When: 9th December 2023 Where: Some fancy brunch place in Wailing Waters Who: @nearnehir

Dawn loved Nehir, she really did. They were both so busy, finding time to see each other was hard, but when they did it was so easy. They loved the same things, and could sit and order bottles of fancy champagne and gossip like it was their life source. There was no judgement (or well, there was a lot of judgement of a lot of other people), and it was like a breath of fresh air from the seriousness that could easily envelop life.

So that's what they were doing that Sunday, sat in their favourite brunch spot, one their second bottle. Dawn had just finished telling Nehir all about her most recent date. The guy had been, on paper, pretty perfect. He was hot, funny. He liked sports, lived near the beach, and had a dog. His values aligned too, he seemed like a genuinely good guy, someone she'd be friends with, set up with one of her girls. But for Dawn, as always, her heart just wasn't in it. So she'd found faults, and discarded him like she did with everyone. A lazy eye (hardly), clammy hands (they barely even touched), a weird laugh (it had sounded like Emre's laugh).

"Maybe we should go to one of those speed dating things. That bar up on High Street does it. They look ridiculous." But they also looked fun, low pressure -- somewhere she could do shots and if the guy icked her out, she'd feel les rude moving on.

"Speed dating?" The look Nehir gave Dawn was more akin to horror than anything remotely funny. "Is this a serious suggestion or is this you being upset?" She leaned in closer, doing her best to read Dawn, but that was easier said than done when large amounts of alcohol were in her system. Already she was a little ditzy, but when properly plied with alcohol, she became almost useless as a person. More of an arm accessory at that point.

Nehir nodded her head in concession. "I'll do speed dating, but only if we take the good stuff before we go. I already know that none of those men can compete with what I'm getting." The grin on her face told the whole story, but the lack of real commitment on Zyrynd's end (he had never made things exclusive, Nehir was certainly not upset about it), made sure that her beliefs and feelings were just as insane as she was. Everything in her life was being held up by strings she imagined were much stronger than they actually were.

"I think you just need to have fun, casual sex. Forget the dating. Just fuck someone already."

Zyrynd shrugged his shoulders casually. “It’s only a guess. A theory. I can’t say for sure.” And in truth, it really was only a guess. Zyrynd had only worked out certain aspects, but he was speculating with others. However, even as he said it was only a theory, he felt certain that had to be the reason why. Zyrynd couldn’t imagine there would be any other reason to take Nehir. And even if part of it was arrogance, Zyrynd also knew how valuable his empire was. There was no doubting that.

“I won’t be,” he said resolutely. Zyrynd probably shouldn’t have been so confident about that fact, either. There was a trail of blood where mafia and gang empires were concerned. Zyrynd himself should have been more paranoid considering how he’d killed his predecessor before inheriting his fortune. Yet, he considered himself bullet proof. Invincible in a way others weren’t, likely probably because he believed himself able to see his own death before it happened and thus able to avoid such an occurrence.

“I don’t get killed. I do the killing. You don’t have to worry about something as silly as that as long as you stick by me.” Zyrynd waved her concerns away. If anything, he was sure Nehir would get killed long before he ever did. “Besides, I think you’ve had closer scrapes than I’ve ever had.” He nodded his head towards the scar she had attained just weeks ago, as if she needed a reminder of what almost had been.

#ch: zyrynd #ch6: zyrynd #with a taste of ur lips im on a ride #UR TOXIC IM SLIPPIN UNDER

"Maybe you should teach me how to be more dangerous." Her eyelashes fluttered in the way that only Nehir ever seemed to many. Something that was coy and innocent enough, while being all too telling that her motives were nothing back. She had never considered herself to possess the ability for violence, she was no werewolf, something that made her scoff even just thinking about. But sirens, no one could claim they were necessarily a peaceful people. Not when murdered was sketched in their DNA.

She moved up onto her toes, pushing back Zyrynd's hair as her eyes slipped briefly back onto the screens behind them. They made her feel safe, and bold, and powerful. Nothing in the world could touch her again if she always knew what was coming next.

Nehir considered her words again. "Or, maybe it's time I start singing again. I know, I know, I said I didn't really want to, and I know I've been successful enough so far without it. But I can't just respond with nothing to all of this."

"Why do fisherman use bait? To lure their prey," said Zyrynd simply. "I imagine he was trying to lure someone. Of course, I can't answer the what he might have said to attract their attention to you. But if I have to guess, in associating with me, you are more valuable than you could ever imagine. You are a golden ticket into my empire. More valuable than any ethereum on this island is information, and you possess the inside scoop on all this." He gestured around. "The why of it is probably as simple as that. And we've attended some high profile events together. Anyone who's read a paper or does a bit of research would be able to find out."

Zyrynd smiled at her. He believed it. He believed it because he knew she wouldn't lie to him. He believed it because he also watched her carefully. "I know."

"They're using me to get to you?" The idea appalled her, mostly because it hadn't occurred to her before. In the deluded world of Nehir, she firmly believed that she alone was worth trying to trap or trick, just for the fact that she was this extraordinarily beautiful. It almost, almost felt like an insult that it hadn't been her they actually wanted. Was that deranged of her? Absolutely. But no one got themselves into the position she currently was by being any amount of sane. She should have run months ago, but the allure of Zyrynd was too strong for her to ignore.

She pouted. "I don't like the idea of them trying to get to you. What would I do if you were taken? Or killed?" Real, acute fear took hold of her. Rarely for her bodily self, despite the scar that now pressed itself into her skin like a brand. But without Zyrynd, where would she even go next? Nehir had forgotten about all of her hopes and dreams where he wasn't there, too.

"No, I don't do a lot of the monitoring," admitted Zyrynd. "I have other people do it, and report anything of interest to me. Usually business affairs. Making sure my people are remaining honest and not trying to cheat me. Last time that happened, I made sure he never did it again." He was dead. Zyrynd didn't provide second chances. "Of course, if anything curious does come up, they'll let me know about that, too," he added.

"No," said Zyrynd. It wasn't that he hadn't bothered to look into the man. After all, when Nehir had reached out those weeks ago, Zyrynd had done a bit of preliminary research. "You know, he doesn't even exist before he got married. Name doesn't pop up anywhere prior to that date." He waved that tidbit aside as if it were inconsequential, which it was for his purposes.

"Anyway, after they took him that night, he hasn't popped up since. Of course, he could just be dead and they might have gotten rid of him. Then again, if he was brought to Carynthia as it seems that was the direction they drove off in after reviewing the footage from that night, there aren't as many cameras, like I said. And if he made it out, he may have just avoided detection. So, unclear."

She nodded, though what she was being told about Fenrik confused her. Didn't exit before he was married? That seemed weird. Not that she was one to really judge, considering the fact that she was unlikely to pop up anywhere until she had turned 18 and suddenly grew legs. "You remember what I told you, right? That he told me I was there as bait or something." Even now it felt like a laughable reason for her to be brought anywhere. It did, however, beg a few questions.

"Why would he have needed to use me as bait? Who would even want anything to do with me? I mean, obviously if they have any amount of taste they'd want to get to know me. But abduction?" Nehir couldn't see the obvious. That Fenrik had caught on to all of her vagueness. Sometimes a lack of names didn't mean a lack of connection. All it took was the right calculated and educated kind of guess.

She held reached out, gripping Zyrynd's forearm. "I haven't told anyone about any of our arrangements. Actually, I don't even think any of my friends know your name, let alone what I've been doing."

"And huge parts of the island," said Zyrynd. "Still working on expanding. Carynthia and Bloodhearth are disgustingly difficult to get surveillance out there. Too much nature and land and space makes it hard. Signals don't hold. Haven't quite mastered underwater technology, either, so haven't really got an eye on sirens either." He frowned. "But wherever I could find a place to keep an eye on things. I've got eyes. Ears even."

He looked around at his set up, the changing screens could almost be dizzying, all the motion and being documented on various screens almost overwhelming. He looked back at Nehir. "What do you think?" he asked her. "Can't be powerful if I don't know what's happening. It's also how I make sure my people stay loyal."

"Were you watching me, too?" Coming from anyone else, there would have been almost disgust behind the question. Like nothing could be more horrifying. But from Nehir, if he had been watching her, she would only ever be comforted, delighted, and outright pleased. It meant effort in a way that ought not to have, but in a world as messed up as this one, it certainly wasn't the strangest thing to consider. Not when someone just tried to throw her to the wolves. Figuratively, or maybe literally.

She moved closer to the screens, grinning as she did so, proud of herself to clearly choosing the right side in all of this. The one with this kind of access and ability. "Have you heard anything about the man I was there with? Fenrik?" Curiosity took hold once more. Nehir shouldn't have cared, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Was he dead? Alive?