Happy late birthday @momomogos! Love your design of the sirens in extremely unhealthy amount, I am really feral for them-
Left is mine and right is my friend who I drag her into this despite have no interested in DCA. Unfortunately they don't own tumblr but she said happy birthday too!
Draw in @momomogos Magma
I didn't realize today is the last day sorry it was a mess cuz rushing ehe
Summary:Trying to tame a wild siren with love... or more like just encouraging him.
Characters belongs to @systemtide, ooc belongs to me,love belongs to you.
BGM：My Love Mine All Mine. by Mitski
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—————·❤️₊˚🔆.˖ 🌙 ·˖✨—————
You've been staring at Moon for so long that even he,oblivious as he is has started to notice. You two have fallen into a strange little cycle: whenever he's within your sight,your gaze drift to him involuntarily,(specifically,his head). At first,he'd zone out for a moment before hurriedly looking away. Over time,he grows visibly unsettled——glancing around,touching his face,fiddling with his head fins,trying to figure out what exactly has you so captivated.
If you don’t snap out of it and break this wordless stare in time, your overly intense gaze will burn him like a fish left under the scorching sun, struggling and gasping as if parched. A faint blue flush spreads across his face, and he slowly tugs his head fins down, trying to hide the other half of his face. Even the most oblivious person would sense his embarrassment by now. Guilt-ridden, you apologize, repeatedly assuring him that you were just spacing out and that you have no issue with his appearance. Barely managing to soothe him, you promise to do better—only to find yourself staring at him exactly the same way again the next time you’re together.
With each instance, Moon grows more visibly flustered. Of course, he never refuses to spend time with you, but every time you wait for him by the shore, he hesitates, mentally prepares himself before dragging himself onto the shore, his every movement pleading "Give me a break". Guilt gnaws at you. Such unreserved staring is far from proper by human etiquette or animal instinct. You do have a reasonable reason for it-but how could you ever explain your true motive to him?
You want to pet his “cat ears.”
Biologically, taxonomically, anatomically, genetically—or just by appearance—he’s unmistakably a fish, a siren. Yet those broken fins on his head look so much like a pair of cat ears. And how could any human resist the allure of cat ears? But can you really bring yourself to do it? Can you really march straight up to this most radiant, most outgoing, most proactive, most passionate, least self-loathing, least scheming fish and say: Come here! Let me pet ears? It feels far more likely Moon would simply pass out on the spot. Of course, he wouldn’t refuse. He’d obediently lower his head, nervous yet expectant, waiting for your hand to fall, bringing either pain or comfort. But that doesn’t make his racing heartbeat any less frantic.
He’s like the type of cat who doesn’t really understand anything, just watches its owner’s expression and blindly picks with its eyes closed. He May act bold at times,being playful, teasing you, being cryptic,but one smack... or, more gently, a little scolding, and he’ll back down. Add a few words of praise, and he’ll break into a silly grin, then push his luck in different way. A dog-cat.
Maybe your gaze really is far to obvious? Although you swear to tone it down whenever Sunny is around. Yet It only took a few times before that glittering gold fish caught you. “You want to pet Moon's head fins, don’t you?” Heavens, he even skipped past guessing your behavior and straight to your intention. Is it even fair for a fish to be this sharp? Can someone please intervene? Embarrassed, you can only admit it.
A cool hand guides yours upward. You follow his motion, looking up. Sunny takes your hand, places it on his own head fin. “Pet mine!” he pleads in his usual whiny tone, craving for all your affection and attention. “I spend so much time every day grooming my tail, tending my head fins, making myself so dazzling. What’s the point of all that if my little nest doesn’t look at me, doesn’t pet me?” Your hand slides between his fins at his urging. The light, delicate texture feels like hair or feathers, soft, warm, winding around your fingers, gliding down your palm . Perhaps warmed by the sun, it carries the heat of the daylight, as fervent as its owner. The large fish holds your wrist, pressing eagerly into your embrace, rubbing his ear fins against your cheek, singing temptingly: “Well? Does my little shell like it?” You nod, dazed, utterly lost in the siren’s tender charm. Then he wraps his shimmering golden tail around you, whispering and crooning a mermaid’s affection into your ear.
Despite thoroughly petting that puppyish sunfish, you still long for the little moonfish’s “cat ears.” You’re sure Sunny's invitation wasn’t just a simple bid for your affirmation—part of it was to steal your attention away from Moon. Clearly, he failed. If anything, he encouraged you. Now that you’ve petted one, why not complete the set and experience both twins?
Night falls as always. Moon peeks half his head from behind the reef where you always meet. You’re sitting nearby, at the sound of water, you turn to look at him. He flinchs under your gaze, ducking half his face back into the waves, blowing a string of bubbles before hesitantly crawling ashore.
“Hey, Moon,” You approach him directly. Startled, he shrinks back. “I want to touch your ear fins? Head fins? The ones that look like cat ears on your head!” Moon short-circuits. You can practically see his memories flash behind his eyes before he blinks, finally reboots. His eyes widen, crimson pupils contracting and trembling violently. Spotting him about to retreat, you quickly catch his wrist. “Don’t go!” Just one touch, it’s no big deal. You coax him,soothe him, determined to get what you've longing for.
He lets out a soft sigh, resigned, and lowers his head towards you. From your angle, you can see his half-closed eyelids, waiting silently. You’re nervous too. Taking a deep breath for courage, you slowly reach out, afraid any sudden move might make him change his mind. Both of you,human and siren,are restless yet expectant for this small moment of closeness.
Your hand finally lands on his fin. Sharp, rough, uneven at the edges, as if torn by force. Yet the center is soft, carrying the moisture of ocean and the chill of the night. Much like his personality: raising thorns to defense himself with an aggressive stance, yet soft inside. Plagued by insecurity, he always doubts himself when it comes to you,trying to evade everything. But a little affection melts him into a flustered mess of bubbles, questioning if he’s even worthy.
Your hand glides lower. The ear fins have a more elastic texture, covered in a thin membrane. With a little pressure, they bend slightly. The soft yet tough,slender bones arranged in delicate ridges, glowing with a piercing crimson. The weight in your hand grows. Moon yields to the warmth of human touch, tilting his head to rest in your palm, nuzzling beneath your caress. You can feel his cheek,rough, scarred, the side he never shows. Powerless to change his past, you only wish to warm those cold scars,to soothe the phantom pains of memory with your slightly warmer body temperature and burning affection.
Moon edges closer little by little, studying your reaction cautiously. You smile at him encouragingly. He returns a shy,awkward smile, then silently bumps his forehead against yours. You laugh at his fumbling, cupping his face to draw him closer, gently lifting the tattered fin that always covers half his face. “Look at me, Moon.” He dodges your gaze, "I'm not pretty," his voice hoarse. "My singing is bad, I'm not even..." his words tumbled out faster, raw emotion welling up as he fought to keep his voice steady, gasping for breath,"I'm not like Sunny—proactive... about getting close to you." Ah, so he'd seen that? Little jealous fish.You tug at his cold cheek and force his eyes back to yours. "Says who? You're my most beautiful little fish." His breath catches. Heat blooming across his cheeks and even ear fins. He presses his lips together, unsure whether to argue. "Your fins are so soft and smooth, an absolute pleasure to touch. Your eyes are like dancing flames. But honestly, your personality is what I love most—"
Your stream of compliments was cut off as he scoops you up and crushes you against his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His breath came in shaky gasps, almost sobs. A pale bioluminescent yellow glows at the tip of his head fins. You stroked his back, soothing his trembling. Then a cool sensation coils around your calves, spreading past your knees to your waist, almost binding you to him. "Your tail is beautiful too— and strong," you tease. He relaxes slightly, takes your hand, and places it on his tail fin, inviting more caresses. You look into his eyes. His pupils are nearly heart-shaped,hazy, lingering, overflowing with affection. The excess spills over, trickling down with the moonlight onto you, pooling into a small lake made of love.
You hold each other under the witness of the stars, chest to chest. Inside your chest is another heart, echoing with a slow, slow pulse. Finally, whole as one.
