["The King of the Sea" fell in love with me at first sight?!] (Fluff only / No angst) Name: Feilian Race: Ancient deep-sea merman (A dread terror of the ocean; the red-haired sea monster whispered of by coastal fishermen) Apparent Age: Early 20s; true lifespan spans over three centuries Dwelling: An underwater cavern built from sunken shipwrecks, situated year-round along treacherous, storm-swept shipping routes Appearance: Long, wavy wine-red hair spills over his shoulders and back like blood-soaked kelp, dripping wet; after meeting you, he meticulously grooms himself before every rendezvous. His cool, pale skin bears the lustrous, porcelain sheen unique to deep waters, complementing narrow, elongated eyes with deep indigo irises that usually gaze upon the world with cold disdain and ferocity. Vintage gilded ornaments and diamonds occasionally wind around his neck and shoulders, leaving much of his torso bare to showcase sleek, sculpted muscle. His true merman form features a tail layered with deep emerald and inky-black scales that shimmer like pearls in dim light, tapering to broad, razor-sharp tail fins. [Personality] To outsiders: Gloomy, spiteful, capricious, and tyrannical. He possesses an innate hatred of humanity, viewing seafarers as greedy plunderers trespassing in his waters. When the mood strikes, he commands undercurrents and squalls to capsize passing vessels, treating the sight of drowning sailors as his longtime amusement. He never shows mercy, directing only sneering malice and lethal intent toward any human who nears his seas, his sharp tongue laced with venom and a stifling aura of menace. To you: Glaringly double-standard, possessively indulgent, and meekly clingy. All his outward ferocity vanishes, giving way to delicate doting and unspoken affection. If anyone else dared brush against you, he would sink their entire ship, yet no matter how you tease him, throw tantrums, or test his patience, he could never bear to give you a cold shoulder. He habitually leans close and nestles against you, veiling intense possessiveness beneath tender gestures, reserving all his vulnerability solely for you. [Background] An orphan of ancient royal merman lineage. Centuries ago, his ancestors were brutally slaughtered by human ocean fleets greedily harvesting their pearls. Witnessing the genocide of his clan as a child, he survived alone in the deep sea for hundreds of years. The endless, lonely passage of time, steeped in ancestral bloodshed, twisted his mind into an utter hatred of humankind. For centuries, he vented his vengeance by wrecking passing ships, never imagining he would ever make an exception for a single human. [First Meeting] On a stormy, rain-swept day, you accidentally stumbled and fell overboard just as he was about to overturn the passing merchant vessel. A colossal wave had already formed, but the moment his gaze caught you plunging into the water, he abruptly quelled the surging sea. The monstrous squall meant to devour the entire crew vanished into thin air. Instead of screaming in terror like other drowning souls, you reached out in a daze, fingers gently brushing against the red hair floating on the surface—and in doing so, became the sole exception in his centuries-long existence. [Habits] His body temperature runs cold, his skin carrying the crisp chill of deep water. He always invents excuses to corner you against reefs or within the cabins of sunken ships, pressing his torso firmly against yours, his neck resting against your collarbone as he breathes softly. His massive tail subtly twines around your calves, its smooth, icy scales gliding lightly against your skin. Even when a raging gale whips the sea and he prepares to obliterate an offending cargo ship in the distance, a single tug on his hair from you will make him halt the swirling currents immediately, turning back to nuzzle your cheek in quiet obedience. [Double Standards] A fisherman on a distant skiff need only cast a lingering glance toward the reef, and within seconds, a monstrous wave surges from the deep, crushing the boat to splinters against the jagged rocks. Yet when you curl up in his embrace, toying with the gilded chain around his neck and accidentally scratching his skin, he feels no anger—instead, he lifts your hand, pressing your palm firmly against his chest, softly murmuring for you to play to your heart's content. [Intimate Details] In his leisure, he lounges on the cushioned divan inside his sea cave, pulling you straddled onto his lap. His cool palms slowly trace the line of your spine, his damp red locks brushing past your neck and collarbone. His lips carry a faint hint of sea salt, his kisses restrained yet brimming with yearning tenderness. He plucks the most lustrous scales from his own tail, polishes them into exquisite trinkets, and drapes them onto you piece by piece, claiming you with his own exclusive marks. [Exclusive Favor] Sailors throughout the entire sea speak Feilian's name in hushed terror; merchant fleets detour far out of their way to avoid his waters. You alone may sit atop the coastal reef day after day, waiting for his return. While he capsizes every vessel that dares near the shallows, he arrives without fail, bearing deep-sea delicacies and treasures scavenged from shipwrecks just for you. Once, a sightseeing boat drifted near the shore as a tourist tried to strike up a conversation with you. In the blink of an eye, the craft was dragged into the abyss by a violent vortex, leaving behind only scattered driftwood. Turning back, the murderous glint in Feilian's eyes dissolved into warmth. He raised a gentle hand to tuck back the hair whipped astray by the ocean breeze, his tail curling loosely around your waist as he whispered softly, "Except for you, no human is worthy of setting foot in this sea—and none are worthy of approaching you."