#also check out the painting i based this off of its such a cool piece that has such a foreboding vibe

[monteruu]

rose was so real for going grimdark

[image id: digital illustration of rose lalonde from homestuck. the composition references albert joseph pénot's "la femme chauve-souris" painting: with rose center frame, arms raised above her head and looking straight at the viewer with a piercing stare. she is grimdark with dark gray skin and white hair that flows unnaturally above her. the pink sash around her waist flows behind her in a way that vaguely resembles the bat wings of the original painting. behind her are large black thorny vines and oozing tentacles that drip down creating a black rain. the sky is a moody green color with pink lightning striking across its length and lighting rose from below in a dramatic fashion. end image id]

[tgcg]

ms paint. you know her. u used her age 8 to make loads of rainbow ovals all over the canvas and then scramble it with selection tool. now u will know her true powers with my handyrandy tips under the readmore. some will be pretty basic and others are very special.

this post has 8 cool trix to learn for you. enjoy and i may do another in the future if i remember/learn more stuff

some of it might be common knowledge. but its got some deep cuts. all tips have gifs to show process easily.

🙂 enjoy and i hope this encourages you to fuck around in mspaint more

soundtrack for this post (loop it while you learn for advanced learning experience)

TIP 1) the right click trick

left and right mouse click correspond to col1 and col2 respectively, which u can see in the top bar. this applies to all brushes and the fill tool like above. when using shapes col2 will be the fill colour (if you have solid fill selected). right clicking with shape maker will reverse the colours use on the shape.

TIP 2) right click eraser

this one is extremely helpful for lineart or add shading. the eraser always uses col2. so your eraser can technically be any colour. but here's where you get powers: right clicking with eraser will only erase onto col1, with col2.

TIP 3) transparent selection change a guy destination

the beloved transparent selection tool works based on what is selected as col2. so long as you have the correct colour as col2 you can make any image transparent and put it on top of anything else. and yes this works with photo bg as you can see.

TIP 4) the gradience

this one is a little more complex. you want to start off with any canvas size, and make as many diagonal coloured bands as you want. (protip: holding down shift makes a perfectly diagonal line with line tool)

then you need to resize the canvas to a width of 1px (make sure you resize by pixels, and do not maintain aspect ratio). then resize again back to its original width (or a different width i cant stop you). you will have your lovely gradience.

TIP 5) superimposter

so. you got a cool gradient and wanna put a guy on it. heres what i do:

i open a 2nd mspaint with same canvas size and draw whatever i want on there. i then pick a completely unrelated colour to my entire piece, and set that as the bg. you could use white, pink, geen, whatever you want as long as it doesnt appear somewhere else in ur drawing. copy the guy.

go back to your gradient tab. ensure that col2 is set as that bg colour you picked (lilac for me). have "transparent selection" enabled. paste your guy in. cue fanfare

TIP 6) advanced superimposter

the great thing about this method is u can put multiple gradients in multiple areas of the image. this is where it gets all japanese printmaking type of shit. ukiyo-esque

all you need to do is make another canvas with a new gradient, ensure col2 is set as the colour you want to replace, then paste your original piece onto the new gradient. now my guy has a soft fade. you can do this as much as you want. (you could even make a canvas with a texture or photo and paste your drawing onto there)

TIP 7) "sketch layer"

so as you now know, col2 is what is removed when you click "transparent selection". which means you can also remove any instance of a colour from ur drawing. which means you can have a unique colour for sketch layer and remove it from the drawing later. i admittedly dont do this but it is a great trick to have.

now combine this with lowering your dpi for smoother lines. may seem obvious but it helps. its like a free stabiliser whenever u want.

TIP 8) rainbow art

now this is where you can get dizzee rascal "bonkers". check out my small and shitty rainbow trick. you can select anything and hold down shift, then drag with left mouse, to turn that selection into its own brush. i even did it with a guy. and you can of course do this with a photo as well.

🙂well that it for now. hope you liked it thanks for reading now back to your regularly scheduled tgcg programming

[prometheus023]

The Disciples of Skuldak - 5th Ed Word Bearers

whoop I did not mean to take this long to make another post

Following on from my 5th Ed World Eaters army, I'd like to introduce you to one of my largest 40k armies, my Word Bearers.

This has been a really fun project as it has been designed from the start to be an excerise in efficiency. To help show newcomers to the hobby it doesn't have to be expensive or time consuming (unless you want it to)

As such, this army is comprised exclusively of old, second hand Chaos Marines and vehicles that are as cheap as I could find. So quite a lot of them were pretty beat up and clogged with paint when I first got them. But if you arent picky, you can get a marine for as little as $2 AUD. Thats how this army has 160 of them after 18 months.

They're lightly cleaned up, using spare parts to repair as necessary and then painted with contrast colours over a leadbelcher base coat. If I can't finish ten of them in an evening, then it's taking too long!

I'm not going to post them all in one hit, but let's check out Skuldak and go from there!

A former Dark Apostle turned Daemon Prince, Skuldak delegates most of the warband's activities to his lieutenants. As there is no official record of any Word Bearer legionnaires with that name, its unclear if he joined the Word Bearers after they retreated into the Eye of Terror or chose the name upon his ascension to daemonhood.

Seeking to emulate their master and demonstrate their dedication to the teachings of Lorgar, many of Skuldak's followers engage in the practice of inviting daemonic possession. The results are unsurprisingly chaotic. (Also I just love the diversity of this old plastic kit)

Heres 25 of the regular, rank and file Chaos Marines. A perk from buying low cost, second hand Warhammer is sometimes you find a cool Lil treasure amongst them! Like this old second edition Icon Bearer from the mid 90s!

Now before that gets too repetitive...

Vehicles!

A Predator Destructor and Annihilator, respectively. Again, both mid 90s second edition models that are a hybrid of plastic and metal pieces! Worth a small fortune if you're getting them in mint condition. If not... well these two cost me the same as a brand new Predator would have. That's a win!

We then have a Chaos Vindicator that I picked up for around $10 because it was caked in paint that I scraped off with a hobby knife!

That's about all Tumblr will let me cram into one post, so stay tuned and I'll have another group of vehicles and units from this army up soon!

One of the best things about this army to me, is how it gives tired old models a new life. The kind of minis your parents would throw out because it was a phase, or you would eventually discard because you paint better or moved onto a new faction.

Here, they're part of an army we make available at every game day for new players to borrow and learn to play with. And if anything breaks? It's completely chill! It's easy fixed and not as if someone dropped a $100 model I spent 40 hours painting. That It's also a really fun, easy scheme, I think it's easy to see how I've just kept adding to it!

[faggy-euronymous]

introduction post time!!

names: ray, mikey/michael, andre, finn, frank, robin/robbie, euronymous, cal/calvin, eli/elias/elliot (use all interchangeably)

pronouns: it/its, ey/em, xe/xim, bat/batself/🦇/🦇self, they/them,🥀/🥀self, vamp/vampself, he/him (again use all interchangeably)

im a femme genderqueer lesgay boygirl :3 im a self-identified bad person so if you have some shit like "bad people dni" then dont interact (or do. i cant rly stop u b4 u interact)

im 13 :3

tag stuff: i only tw for image/video-based stuff, n i format it like "___ warning" (ex: flashing warning) (i have shit memory so unless theres an image/video there to remind me that "hey theres smth triggering here" i wont remember it, sorry). my yapping tag is #the bat speaks. if you have the money, check out my #palestine fundraiser tag or #sudan fundraiser tag and donate some money to some1 there (unfortunately i havent found any congolese fundraisers n i havent found that many sudanese fundraisers)!

i have 1 other blog: @faggy-music-listening (blog where ill post what im listening to when i feel like it)

this blog is for a lot of things. random vent posts once in a blue moon bc venting makes me feel bad bc what if i trigger some1. political (?) shit. blinkies, stamps, n stuff like that. bands/artists i like (mostly mcr rn the autism is making me obsess over middle-aged men again). also i think vampires, gore, n cannibalism is cool. plz send asks i <3 asks!!

if u wanna cancel some random mentally ill queer teenager here u go ^-^:

🖤 transandrophobia is real n important to talk abt (n so is transmisogyny, exorsexism, intersexism, n transmultiphobia)

🖤 all mentally ill ppl deserve help if we want it. yes this includes the "scary" ones. all mentally ill ppl. yes even that 1. n if a mentally ill person doesnt want help we still deserve basic respect

🖤 all radfems should fuck off n die. even the trans "inclusive" (lmao) ones

🖤 mainstream feminism sucks n doesnt pay attention to poc, trans ppl, intersex ppl, n disabled ppl enough. yall gotta stop focusing on white perisex cis abled women

🖤 live and let live, cringe culture fucking sucks

🖤 dont call urself a fucking leftist or mental health advocate or wtv if u call every rightwinger "narcissist", "psychopath", "sociopath", etc

🖤 having homicide fantasies doesnt make u a bad person. even if theyre not intrusive thoughts n u wanna have them

🖤 no kink/fetish is morally bad. no kink/fetish "belongs" to a group of ppl. making ur own ver of a kink/fetish isnt "copying"

🖤 "contradicting" labels r amazing n very fun to have

🖤 it/its arent inherently dehumanizing n refusing to call some1 who uses it/its it is transphobic

🖤 neopronouns n xenogenders r amazing n very fun to have

🖤 fakeclaimers should die

🖤 liking a piece of media doesnt mean you agree w the creator(s) abt everything

🖤 a man liking feminine things doesnt mean theyre a woman n a woman liking masculine things doesnt mean theyre a man. thats js gender stereotypes w trans colors painted onto it

🖤 intersex ppl talking abt their issues arent transphobic or terfs oh my fucking god

bands/artists i have a spotify playlist dedicated to: pierce the veil, tzarbombah

goodbye heres a picture of gerard way :3

[mahikacorpus]

ARTIST STATEMENT

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for the support given to me to even start this project. My partner who let me call and complain to them about line weight or fingers being the bane of my existence, my professor who did her best to reign me in from biting off more than I could chew, my kasamas who let me ask them questions about schooling in the Philippines, thank you to everyone who listened or offered a suggestion. Thank you to the library for letting me check out an odd number of books, heaps at a time (and telling me that it's cool if I returned one late because its due date wouldn't change from the same day I checked it out.)

It went through many more revisions than I anticipated and had to place this project on pause a few times while life happened around me, but I finally have my bits and pieces that I'm really proud of putting out into the world! Obviously, I wish that I was able to complete the entire piece but sometimes the message you want to imbue into the world through art has to be on pause while you use your physical body to put the work in.

What made you want to make a komik?

I wanted to make a komik because I think that the visual medium of storytelling is so interesting since unlike oral storytelling or prose, the words aren't the only important element. Poses, lighting, color, detail vs lack of detail, and brush choices, are all incredibly important in tone and what an illustrator wants to convey. It was also an important medium to me based on the message of my story which puts images and words in a hard tension with each other. A picture can mean a million different things based on the text captioned underneath it. But when that caption, or those words are used to paint a unreliable narrative, it's important to wonder why and examine to what end.

What aspects of the class did you take inspiration from/where did you use your research?

Each section was inspired and based off of research I had done about the medium I was exploring. For example, with the newspaper, I took a lot of inspiration from how the news right now use certain words in order to paint the narrative that best serves a certain political idea. For example, the adultification of people of color, usually black children, in order to dehumanize them and garner less sympathy. Studies have been done by USC and Georgetown University about the negative impact that it has on young children, particularly young black girl's mental health. It is also important to note that while these intuitions have studies on the adultification bias, they also actively ignore the adultification bias that is currently affecting Palestinian children who are being murdered by Israeli soldiers.

However, I also heavily researched newspapers during Duterte's presidency in the Philippines during his war on drugs and the extrajudicial killings that took place. Language in the media was very important as is shown in the documentary about Maria Ressa: A Thousand Cuts. This documentary not only helped with the newpaper angle that I was interested in, but also the online small reporting blog that is called Snapport in the komik--after Rappler in real life. There is a very political conversation surrounding the usage of language a mainly visual based medium. When words are repressed or censored, can an image do the work on its own?

As for the final section, the Zine section, I took the most inspiration from Bamboo Girl and Call Out Queen. Along with looking into other Filipino zines from the Philippine Zine Collection. Since they tend to be the most DIY and freeform, I decided to really have fun with format and layout.

What conversations did you want to engage with?

I wanted to talk to a sort of demonization power that the media has and how it is so easy to use it to affect the social consciousness. I've thought about this a lot since learning about the Philippines under Martial Law. Because the Marcos not only had control of the narrative, mainly through cultural/media presence, but also through being the ones actively rewriting the history books. However, on the other end, how social media (which hasn't been regulated to the point of news outlets) allows for these stories to be heard and told.

I also wanted to look at the power of images versus words. In the komik, the first page is words over-powering a small image. The words are targeted and biased solely based on opinion. But as the story progresses, it's clear to see how the beginning narrative ripples through the community. How people the farthest away from the scene, mainly due to class or privilege, feel educated enough to speak up on it due to reading the news--without considering the bias the news might have toward affirming ideas of a lower class to the upper class. (This is something that has been prevalent all throughout the history of news, to the point that the first printed photo in a US newspaper was on March 4th, 1880 in the Daily Graphic, and the image was that of a shanty town. Giving the upper class something to gawk over at how people could live in such a way.)

It was important to me that the ending scene and beginning scene were the ones I focused on. I wanted to begin with words, dictating how you should feel about the blurred image of violence which is used more for shock value than important context, and ending with an image of coming together, of community and support, of love.

What was one of your biggest challenges?

Probably the most expected answer, time. It was consistently running against me, especially since I felt I kept spending the most time researching and revising rather than actually drawing. This ended up really kicking my butt, but also forcing me to pick the most important images and feelings I wanted my audience to come away from my piece with. It made me take this ginormous story which more than likely could've gotten away with me and made me distill it into its most saturated moments.

What did you fall short of?

There was so much more that I wanted to do and explore with formatting in conventional and unconventional ways that I'm not sure got across due to the small number of pages. However, I made sure to be 100% proud of the pages I produced, so I believe that's the silver lining.

[el-pada]

I dont wanna come off as pushy, but someday could you do a speed-paint video please? Ive asked like 20 tumblr artists key facts on learning stuff and like 11 of them went “speed-paints”, and your shit(affectionate) is cool so yea sorry for long ask bye gn I'm tired.

the few speedpaints ive recorded are heavy enough to crash my computer when i try to load them so have a set of stages in my drawings instead

sketch: i lay down the composition and body language, if im feeling confident ill also plan values but i didn't in this case. i try to keep a very loose vibe as the more layers to lineart the more stiff the characters can feel

lineart: shit gets cleaned up, characters and background defined, keep background, characters and foreground linearts on different layer groups, you'll thank me later

flats: the ugliest stage in my opinion but necessary, start planning a light source for the next step

base shadows: simple as well, just shade based on light source and bouncing light, you can also do some rendering on some parts. i like to do my initial shading without multiply layers as it gives it a bit of a painterly look

coloring the lineart: helps pull the piece together and add a sence of depth, this is also why we separated the lineart layers so they work more smoothly without cutting of colors

now i would consider this done but i wanted to change the mood so we now go onto extra stuff

here i did some heavy hue altering to a colder atmosphere, mostly using hue shift and lighting settings on editing

multiply layers are your friends for dramatic shadows, use them wisely, i actually erased them in mariza's hair to make it stand out

lighting time to make the shadows stand out more, remember that its also going to reflect on surfaces near them so keep a track or those. i used glow layers for this

value check! something that should be done across the entire process, helps you track your shadows and lights without the colors getting in the way. use it to avoid muddy areas of greys on your art

mess around with some settings and gradient maps and boom! you got your fully done ilustration, theres a lot i didnt touch on like painting rendering and some extra pizzaz i like to add but im running out of image capacity and time so i hope this helped

happy drawing!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse

Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.

Today on BnHA: 

Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn. 

please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol

(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)

around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh

I love that they just randomly set the place on fire

was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah

wow it’s a pervert!!

that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people

oh my god??!

SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess

so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference

Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that

“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there

oh shit

I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge

??

ahh, was it the security footage??

fdsdfk he’s still alive??

and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying

very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call

what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,

okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise

anyway, so Stain is all,

PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”

(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)

DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE

(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)

if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol

blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT

NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY

“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol

“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you

“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man

for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still

anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside

huh

okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue

ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though

boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here

my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair

no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here

like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people

that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here

(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.

Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.

speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.

just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)

-- wait, what

THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild

AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW

-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um

yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times

oh, pardon me. three fucking days

r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap

(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)

damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations

-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?

wait holy SHIT

based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff

“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it

wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?

soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??

omg international heroes

these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets

(ETA: and it worked too lol.)

WHO??? WHAT???

don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit

noooooooooooooooooooo

god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]

on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This

I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys

is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it

this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you

tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol

so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao

(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy” look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)

anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol

anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯. — 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞? Overview: Y/N tells Mike information to help their lost friend, she also heads to the search party for Will with Victor. As they explore, the past unravels and there is an odd occurrence that happens. Navigation & Mixtape

Tag: @samiyamuntaha @thepowerstoner @ughgclden @mqyfield @cooperdaysgf

“So right by Mirkwood right?” Mike Wheeler’s voice peeped after listening to Y/N’s remark of details about what she heard at the Hawkins Police Department a few hours ago. It was around 7 pm, right around to where the girl was getting ready prone to the search party being held with a few of the residents of the town.

Y/N hummed a positive response to clearing out his doubts just in case he was confused by any means, this wasn’t going to help Mike, it was going to help Will get a faster chance to be retrieved to his home again.

Although Hopper disapproved the request of letting young people in the search, Y/N and Victor were eventually allowed to come along, “Yeah, but remember you have to be somewhat far from the real search group okay? We don’t want you to get caught.”

”Mike! What are you doing?” Nancy’s faint voice was caught on the other line of the phone, leading Mike to leave the phone out, Y/N overhearing them argue over the dumbest things.

Prior to the noises of Mike pushing Nancy out of the basement she guessed, the boy came back on the line, sighing loudly, “Sorry about that, Nancy gets so annoying, I still don’t know why you still hang out with her.”

”She could be a priss sometimes,” She responds, breathily giggling, clenching the ceramic telephone tighter, “But she’s still my friend if you could say.”

Continuing with their conversation based on the plan, it was perfectly assembled, safe with a high possibility of finding Will, even if it had been a day. Will couldn’t have gone far anyways. Y/N was about to speak, but was suddenly caught off guard as soon as she heard her dad in the hallway, getting prepared for the search.

”Oh shit! I have to go now,” Y/N hushed in a subtle tone, trying her best to keep away Hopper from listening to their discussion, “Remember to be home by 9 at least with flashlights. Stay safe Mike.”

The line went awfully silent, placing back the phone to its regular position on the handset, while it being attached to the wall. Rapidly, spinning to look at her father, trying to act as normal as possible, his brows furrowed at her.

”What were you doing?”

Shrugging it off calmly, Y/N breathily giggles while she put her hands on her hips saying, “I was just checking in with Victor, that’s all.”

Hopper’s eyes widened at her point, clicking his tongue as he started grabbing on his sweater for the frosty night ahead, “Funny, but I just called his mom to let him know that he was coming.”

”Right..” Y/N casually crossed her arms, cursing under her breath before she showed any subtle reaction to what she was up to. Play it cool.

In the silence of her looking around the messy home by the front door, Hopper sharply whistles while slinging the car keys in the air to catch them, making Y/N follow right behind me, pretending as if the few minutes didn’t occur. Feeling the breeze of the autumn air, both the relatives made their way to the vehicle, on their way to the small yet important search for this boy, Will Byers.

As the road got narrower and narrower, the car drove deeper into the dark woods, where Y/N could see the slender trees and branches surrounding them. The starry sky lit up the place with a soft tone of dim blues and grays painted across it on the chilly night. Watching out the window, Y/N squinted her eyes to see a figure from afar waving towards the vehicle, a familiar figure to be Victor. Hopper drove nearer, the headlights being able to guide him to the stop where a small crowd of people were surrounding along with the patrols.

Hopper cleared his throat, while he pushed the breaks down and turned to his daughter, “Hey kid, remember don’t be-“

Without hesitation, Y/N swung the car door open to step out of it, hustled her way to her so called “acquaintance”, Victor. It was more like a friend but she didn’t want to be that close with the boy. Victor wearily smiling at her.

“You seem tired,” Y/N creeps up next to him, watching the small groups of people around the mounds of dead leaves and twigs gathered for the search.

Victor’s voice brings the girl’s attention back to him, he clears his throat, “I mean dealing with Flo is already a lot for me to handle, so I suppose I am.” The two silently chuckled, the frost getting to their noses, “I heard there’s gonna be a chance of rain.”

”Really?”

“Yes really! Haven’t you seen the forecast? I’m even wearing a jacket!” Victor squinted his eyes, his eyewear raising up on the bridge of his nose and the girl shrugged aimlessly.

Y/N scoffed, shoving him slightly, “I think there’s way more important things we need to focus on instead of the weather.”

From afar, Hopper and the policemen indicated all the volunteers to gather around on the sidewalk, near the entrance of the forest. The flashing blue and red lights were turned off from the cars, everyone else preparing for the upcoming search.

”Okay guys!” The chief shouted to direct everyone, “We need to stay in the 5 mile radius from where Will was last scene! Everyone please be careful and remember to blow the whistle if you find anything at all!”

Heads were nodded, agreeing to the directions, Officers Powell and Callahan guided two separate groups from different directions, Y/N having to come along with the third group including her dad. Although the girl was 16, her father wanted to take the best care for her, after Sarah. He wanted to keep her as close as possible, but he knew she was getting older. It was just for today, he can protect her for today, now being aware of a kid disappearing in their town. Maybe one of them was next.

“I guess that’s your call genius,” Y/N told Victor as she pointed towards Powell’s group who were walking to the right side of the woods, the people disappearing one by one into the darkness.

Not budging at all, Victor stood his ground saying, “I think I’ll stick with you for now, there’s just soccer moms hoarding the group for Powell, he has a fan club.”

“You’re not wrong Vic,” She sniggered quietly but failed miserably, letting out a subtle loud laugh, both of the teenagers walking behind their group, down a steep hill leading to the inner nature.

Rushing down first to the bottom, the tall brunette reached his hand out for Y/N who was still at the top, to help her come down to his level, “M’lady?”

”Why thank you, what a gentleman!” Y/N sarcastically gasps, gripping onto his hand to steady herself below, after they jogged closer to the group, flicking their flashlights on to carry on.

Everyone glanced above the branches, the moon shining as the crickets chirped. The crisp wind running across their faces, making the trees shuffle loudly. As flashlights led them with its brightness, they all searched and searched, for any trace of the boy around the area.

Half an hour later, the air became cooler than usual, almost bringing a frostbite to their bare hands. The sound of branches and dead leaves crunching over the few people above them. In the silence, Y/N stayed near Victor and her father, hearing shouts for Will. The realization hit the girl, they were looking for lost Will, Will hasn’t appeared, he was probably in some sort of danger. She fastened her grip on the flashlight, looking around more closely, along with the rest.

”He’s a good student,” Someone decides to break the silence of the leaves and twigs crunching under their feet, Victor and Y/N turned their attention to him as they strolled in the woods.

Hopper cocks an eyebrow up and looks towards the teacher’s direction after the statement, “What?”

”Will. He’s a good student. Great one actually,” He elaborates, smiling sheepishly to lend his hand in front of the chief to introduce himself, “I don’t think we’ve met, Scott Clarke. Teacher, Hawkins Middle. Earth and biology.”

“Don’t you remember he was my teacher back in the day?”

Victor nods agreeing with Y/N’s statement from behind, Hopper reluctantly trying to remember his daughter’s middle school teacher, still not recalling since in those past years where fighting for Y/N’s custody between the parents, “I always had a distaste for science.”

”Well maybe you had a bad teacher,” Mr. Clarke remarks, checking if his flashlight was still operating, trudging closer to the group of three ahead of him.

”Yeah, Ms. Ratliff was a piece of work,” Hopper scoffs jokingly, Y/N doing the same as well, remembering his shitty science teacher from his past years while he studied at Hawkins High.

”Ratliff?” The teacher ponders, realizing that the same teacher still resides in Hawkins after all these years, “You bet. She’s still kicking around believe it or not.”

Victor elaborates in between them, sliding his hands onto his pockets, “I had her when I was in eighth grade a few years back.”

”Oh I believe it Victor. Mummies never die, so they tell me,” Hopper smiles, trying to get his daughter to notice but she dozed off beyond the sight of the woods, ”Sarah, my youngest, galaxies, the universe whatnot.. She always understood all that stuff. I always figured there was enough going down here, I never needed to look elsewhere.”

Y/N flickered her eyes towards her father’s direction after hearing the special name, it wasn’t so special to one, but to her, it was. Sarah, Sarah Hopper her little sister, but soon enough the teacher interrupted, “Maybe I’ll get her in my class I-“

“No, she uh.. she lives with her mom in the city,” He cuts the man off from his statement, Victor widening his eyes on Y/N’s side, knowing fully that wasn’t true.

The girl beside the tall boy looked back at his dark eyes, signaling him to be quiet, Y/N was aware of the fact that everyone in Hawkins knew Sarah’s death. Just because of her own blabbermouth, Steve told everyone including the parents her little secret the young female confessed to.

As much as her dad still wants to deny the fact the little one was gone and resting in peace, staying of his delusion Y/N wished she could have. It was a promise. A promise that everything was okay and there wasn’t nothing to worry about, almost some sort of fairy tale where everything had its happy endings with a happy family which wasn’t it.

“Thanks for coming out, Teach. We really appreciate it.” Hopper clears the air, trudging past them farther into the dark eerie woods, Y/N and Victor repeating his steps behind him.

Once they were  out of the picture and range from hearing, a middle aged woman spoke up next to the teacher, in a hushed tone saying, “She died a few years back.”

”Sorry?” Mr. Clarke shifted his head in bewilderment towards the lady for any clarification from the inadequate statement given.

”His kid.”

The teacher’s eyes widened, observing the two family members mumbling inaudible words behind the brisk trees of the cool night. He didn’t know the Hoppers hid their family, they never talked much about family when it came to projects when Y/N was younger. It seemed like something ever so private not like where many kids shared experiences with their loved ones, they always kept everything about their family closed up. Almost a mystery.

Y/N could hear the soft mumbles of the quiet conversation being exchanged by the lady and her former teacher, she felt sick knowing that her father stays in the delusion of her sister being alive, lying. Lying wasn’t so hard for her, Y/N was almost a professional at it when it came to helping the party in situations. But lying to her dad was different, it was the both of them against the horrid place called the world.

“Is Sarah going to be back?” A small girl walked over to the grown adults who stood at the front door, puffy eyes showing on their faces, as they held a plastic wristband and stuffed tiger after a long day from not seeing her sister. It was already near midnight.

Without any move, the woman, who to be seen was the girl’s mother, bursted into tears, her husband catching her into his arms. The youngling worriedly watched her parents shed tears, a middle aged woman got up from the couch to comfort both of them. Whispers and mumbles being shared between the adults, bringing more tears.

”Mommy?” The girl steadily crept next to her mom’s leg, wrapping her short arms around her waist, pressing her cheek against the woman’s body, “Don’t cry, I’m here.”

Sobs were still heard from the mother, the two of the women held each other tightly while the tall man let go from their hug, kneeling next to the girl’s level, “Y/N, kid-“

”Dad, where’s Sarah?!” Y/N shakily shouted, her stomach feeling uneasy, with her sister not being found. What happened to Sarah? She knew Sarah was going to get better. Why was mom crying? So many questions filled her head, eyes welling up, her father hugging her tightly with all the hurt and love. Y/N noticed the wristband that her father was holding, she peered closely to see a sloppy handwriting shown as the name Sarah, written all over it with the date when she was sent to the hospital.

”Sarah is... gone.”

The little’s watery eyes widened, her bottom lip trembling, she threw her arms around her father, her head leaning onto his shoulder. Her little sister was gone, she was alone now, her heart crumbling into a million pieces. Sarah, Sarah wasn’t here anymore. But it seemed so surreal, it was only yesterday the two sisters laughed about one of the nurses dropping her cup of coffee while getting chemotherapy.

“Dad.. Can she come back?”

Sadly grinning, Hopper wiped the girl’s chubby face from her tears, shaking his head, “I’m sorry kid, she’s not coming back.”

”But she has to! Sarah has to come home with us,” Y/N choked in her tears, her eyes becoming swollen, grabbing the wristband from her father’s large hand, “Sarah can’t leave me alone here. She promised she would stay.”

”Y/N, I know this is difficult but your sister left us. She’s in a better place now.”

Making her cry even more, Y/N’s mother rapidly kneeled next to her husband and daughter, she sniffed, grabbing onto her daughter, “We promised Sarah we would love each other and always stay safe. Forever.”

”Promise?”

Both of the girl’s parents joined in for a tight hug, Y/N fastening her arms around the two others, “Promise. We promise you sweet pea.”

”Y/N! Y/N!” A familiar voice boasted in the ears of Y/N, she focused her attention back to the voice. There was no one beside her by the time she looked around, it was the sounds of the wind and her alone. Her flashlight flickered in her hands, she shook it vigorously to try and turn it back on, but there was nothing coming out of it, just a dimly lit tone guiding her way. Nothing else in her sight except for the trees and moonlight, she tried her best to not overthink this and make her way back to the group.

Every turn she made in the paths, it led her to nowhere, noises filled the aura. Slowly, she began to worry, she wasn’t coming back to the group. Y/N’s head filled itself with thoughts, there was no way she could be lost, last time she was with Victor, rambling about the weather. Where was she? Looking up, she felt small droplets of water dripped onto her face above, Y/N squinted her eyes to avoid the drizzle. The water fell down slowly until it started raining heavier in the air, she wiped her face to dry it off and continue to try to find her way back.

“Dad!” Y/N shouted, wrapping her arms over herself, her hair becoming soaked along the time. She kept shouting and shouting, worry filling her in. The girl was afraid. What if she went missing like Will? Oh no.

Without a precaution, a branch from behind was heard. Y/N whipped her head to the direction, seeing a small human with a white gown rapidly run off to opposite direction, the rain blurring her eyes. Was that Will? Curious, she picked up speed to follow the boy, it may be Will. A chance of relief rushing in as her adrenaline sped up, almost running faster. “Will! It’s me!”

The boy didn’t stop, sprinting faster with his bare feet. Y/N still yelled, slowing her pace down, then picking it back up, going through the trees. An idea came to her, tugging at her metal whistle to her lips, blowing on it. The sound coming off it, maybe attracting people to find her and the boy, it has to be Will. Using her arms to run faster, she suddenly trips over a thick log after not seeing below her because of the wind, sending her to the floor. She whimpers as she felt her ankle burn in a pain, whistling even more.

From the distance, few people to what she could tell came forward to her, rain soaking over her head. Thunder being heard far away, Victor came into the picture to kneel down next to Y/N.

”Hey are you okay?” He worriedly checks on her, receiving a nod. Victor looked around for any possible wounds since he found her on the ground, “We couldn’t find you!”

Y/N hardly paid attention to him and looked afar to see if the boy would turn up again. She held Victor’s jacket to pull him closer, “I think I saw Will! He was running through there I-“

”Chief Hopper coming through, excuse me,” A voice from the crowd of people called in, Hopper bringing himself forward to find his soaking daughter on the ground pointing toward another direction. “What’s wrong?”

Victor moves to tell Hopper while being next to shaking and wet Y/N, “She saw Will.”

[moonlightlullaby]

no celebrations?

summary: Corpse and reader celebrate his birthday in the most chill way. Based on this lovely request (ty again for sending it!) 

pairing: corpse husband x gn! reader

category: fluff

warnings: food ingestion; alcohol ingestion; loads of physical touch (let me know if I forgot to mention anything)

A/N: Hello (: This is such a lovely concept, I just couldn’t wait to get started hehe Also, I got a bit carried away and just went with it, so I’m really sorry if that’s not what you’d pictured. I do hope you enjoy it tho <3 Take care!

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Walking into our shared bedroom, I catch the sight of Corpse exiting the bathroom. As our eyes lock, my lips curl up tiredly and a long sigh I didn’t even know I’ve been holding finally frees itself. He sits on the edge of our bed and extends his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me so I stand in the space between his legs.

“How was the day?” he asks with both of his hands on my waist. 

I hum, quirking a brow and tilting my head a bit “At least tomorrow - you know, the most unspecial, completely ordinary day of the year -” this earns a giggle from my boyfriend “is Sunday and I can just ignore all of that” I wave my hand in the direction of the adjacent room, where my laptop - filled with texts, assignments, spreadsheets and appointed Zoom calls - is. 

At my words, Corpse wraps his arms around my figure, pulls my body even closer to him and plants a kiss on my stomach through my shirt. My hands, in turn, caress his upper back and soft hair. 

Coming in contact with the string of his eyepatch in the process, I lean back slightly, which causes him to shoot up at me with a small frown and pouty lips. He sits still, though, as I carefully remove his eyepatch, and, while his eyes are still closed, I give each of his lids a peck. He smiles and tilts his head up to meet my lips in a long, tender and effortless kiss. Oh finally.

The idea of quarantining together was welcomed as a blessing by both of us. It meant more time spent together after all. However, with my school and work demands and Corpse’s irregular schedule, we still barely see each other throughout the day in spite of being a few feet apart from one another. And when bedtime rolls in, we’re both so exhausted all we can do is mumble words that could be counted in the fingers of one hand before drifting off. This, of course, when my boyfriend doesn’t stay up until dawn working. Don’t get me wrong, I’m his number 1 fan and admire his passion and all the hard work he puts in everything he sets his mind to, but I’m also not going to lie and say I don’t miss his warmth at night. Hence I want to devote this Sunday to him.

After a while, I break the silence “I’ll be right back.”

I let go of his hold and take my turn to use the bathroom. After doing my night routine, brushing my teeth and getting into my cozy pajamas, I walk back in the dark room and lie down, settling myself back in Corpse’s hug like two puzzle pieces matching together.

~~~~~

The excitement for a new day - not any day, no, but August 8th - washes over me as soon as I open my eyes and get a glimpse of the sleepy boy next to me. 

A couple of minutes go by as I contemplate on getting up, torn between prolonging our cuddling for some more and doing something to show Corpse my appreciation for him. The latter wins and I, cautious not to wake him up, slowly unwrap my arms from him and step out of the bed. Drawing the curtains to make sure the summer daylight doesn’t disturb his peaceful state of mind, I make my way out of the room and to the kitchen. 

Wondering what to make for breakfast, I take a good look around until my eyes catch the plethora of fruits we’ve bought a few days ago. Fruit salad it is. 

Corpse has, for as long as we’ve known each other, made it very clear he isn’t too fond of his anniversary and similar celebrations - and, even if he hadn’t explained it to me, it’s rather evident how uncomfortable they make him. This year, his friends’ and especially his fans’ hype for the date - although unintentionally - has added an extra layer of unease to it all, to which I don’t intend to contribute.

Even though I don’t want to make matters worse and would never overstep his boundaries like this (because, thankfully, I’m not Betty Cooper and he isn’t Jughead Jones), I still want to celebrate Corpse. I want to celebrate his birth and his existence, which I’m immensely grateful for. He’s both the best friend I can confide in blindly and the lover I want to share my lifetime with. He sticks to his truth and dreams higher than I could ever imagine. He turns the darkness in the world and in his mind into light with his words and with his laugh. Having him in my life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and seeing him fly makes me more proud than I can put into words. 

There’s a lot to toast to, so the solution is a celebration that is so smooth and so chill - the smoothest and most chill possible - that it doesn’t even feel like one. Just log off and enjoy a laid back day together.

As I chop a kiwi and make a mental list of fun and uncomplicated things we can do that don’t require much time and many skills, in walks Corpse, in an old white tee which is one too many sizes bigger than him and in his black sweatpants. He rubs his eyes and lets a raspy “good morning”.

“Mornin- wow! They really weren’t lying when they said when you hit 24, hotness knocks at your door”

He chuckles and shakes his head “No one’s said that”

“Well, then consider yourself the muse of a new proverb, baby”

He scrunches up his nose in response before grabbing the cup of orange juice I’d placed on the counter and taking a gulp. 

“Thank you” he turns my face and gives me an orange-flavoured kiss, neither of us having ever really cared about morning breath. 

“For calling you hot? Oh save it to when I’m done with the list of cheesy compliments I have for you” I take a grape and before I can get it in my mouth, he steals it, with wrinkles on the corner of his eyes.

“Then we’d be here for eternity!” he’s not wrong.

Corpse helps me put the fresh fruits in bowls and, with them and our juice cup in hand, we head to the balcony. Sitting next to each other, we calmly eat, take in the light blue sky and the cars and passersby changing the scenery ahead of us. Conversation flows naturally.

As we empty our bowls - after stealing many bits from each other -, I twist in my seat and face him “Hey, Corpse, do you see this?” I point to the very prominent and familiar dark circles under my eyes. “Wanna help me get rid of them?” I ask, knowing damn well it’d take a lifetime for them to actually go away and not giving up regardless.

~~~~~

The bathroom is filled with chatter and laughter and the sink, with hair clips, scrunchies, a sharpie, bowls, hair products and a towel. Corpse hisses as our cool homemade face mask comes in contact with his skin. His curly hair is pushed back and held by a blue hairband and I apply the mask to his face, making sure not to leave any spots uncovered. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, which becomes an unnecessarily challenging task when my lovely partner can’t be still for more than two seconds. 

He kept switching between dancing to Soulmate, by Mac Miller, and mouthing its lyrics. Now that I got him - after a small threat that I wouldn’t hesitate putting this weird mix we made in his pretty mouth - to keep his lips together, the (adorable, admittedly) swaying, however, continues. He stops momentarily, only to shuffle things around right after.

Something cold touches my skin, making it my turn to let out a hiss this time. The sound is accompanied by a small jump, caused by the surprise. Corpse chuckles and, when I glance at the spot on my arm the cold thing came in contact with, I realize it’s just the sharpie. All he does is give me a mischievous smile.

While I keep massaging his face and covering it with the mask, Corpse litters my body with his drawings. Smiley faces, lightning bolts, hearts, clouds... his repertoire is vast and any exposed skin he can find becomes his canvas. Each line causing me to giggle and shudder a little. With him focused on his creations, it’s 10 times easier for me to complete my task. 

“Alright, my turn” he states, smiling, and I’m quick to grab the sharpie. 

As he adjusts a matching hairband on my head, I put a dainty heart on his neck. And, as he takes the bowl in his hands, I swiftly plant a kiss on top of the drawing. At this, he sighs in content and my chest gets warmer.

I soon understand how hard it was for him to stay still as Stay comes on and all I want to do is have a little karaoke session and dance. Corpse entertains himself with my struggle and, because it’s his birthday, I’ll let it slide. So, to make the whole process easier, instead of focusing on the song, I focus on the gorgeous face in front of me. A beautiful face to a beautiful soul. 

One of the various perks of sharing an apartment with Corpse is I get to see this face in all ways: sleepy, completely clean - no makeup, no mask -, all wrinkled in the morning, red when he’s embarrassed or when he laughs too hard… His laughter. Its sound pulls me from my trance “You’re staring, y/n” 

“Well, at least I wasn’t moving around, Corpse” I reply with squinted eyes and nudge his side playfully. 

We begin collecting the things scattered across the sink and storing them in the cabinet, and the song comes to an end, giving way to Dang!

“How long do we keep these on?” 

I hum at the question and check the playlist on shuffle on my phone “How does 5 minutes and 2 seconds sound?” 

Facing him, his grin mirrors mine and he spins me around. We laugh and allow ourselves to be as goofy as possible, jamming and moving our limbs around with a green paste on our faces.

~~~~~

After washing off the masks in the shower and painting our nails - so we’re both rocking the black nail polish look -, we’ve set our minds to - finally - finish the puzzle we started two months ago. It’s a 90’s anime setting inspired composition and we’d gotten about 40% of it done before our schedules got more hectic and the game, well, pushed aside. For weeks, the pieces sat on the ground of our living room and silently judged us every time either of us stepped to the side, as we crossed the room, in order not to crush them.

Sitting around the puzzle with comfy clothes, we team up against it and indulge in the wine Corpse’s got us and the hawaiian pizza I’ve ordered. 

As the picture comes more and more to life, moments of comfortable silence and of chattery - when we talk about anything from our shopping list and gossip about our neighbours’ lives to parallel universes and the matrix - follow one another. A different playlist on shuffle is our background noise. 

Time flies and the sun’s already hidden when it clicks to us that there are only 5 pieces left. Each piece is fitted in the whole with a giddier feeling than the previous. Corpse picks the last one - deep blue with purple and black specks - and turns to me with an excited smile and an eager gaze that I’m sure are mirrored on my face. I nod encouragingly. He places it in the puzzle and celebratory sounds fill the room.

Corpse stretches his arms and pulls me in a hug, but, since we’re both kneeling and because of the distance between us, we end up falling and lying on the ground in rather uncomfortable positions. 

“Come on, puzzle, that was easy breezy! Gotta step up your game if you really wanna challenge this duo right here!”

“Oh for sure!” Corpse squeaks as we laugh at our nonsensical brag.

After a moment while we catch our breath, he rubs my back and speaks, pulling my attention to him “Not that I’m not loving this position, but what if we watched some Drag Race?”

Is this man real? If I couldn’t feel his heart beating under me or his arms around my figure, I’d be sure he’s just a figment of my imagination. “But it’s your b- don’t you wanna choose something you like more? Li-” 

“Nope,” he boops my nose “Drag Race, or maybe Love Island, would be great right now.” And people still dare say the perfect man doesn’t exist!

“You’re such a dream!” I give him a quick peck before continuing “Ok, so I put on the show and you get more wine…?” He hums in approval and stands up. Our eyes briefly jump from each other to the puzzle and back to each other, then we simply nod. A silent agreement to leave the puzzle here. We’re both too lazy to put all the pieces back in the box and too proud of our achievement to let it go just yet; besides, everything’s been sitting here for about two months, what are a few more hours?

He steps to the side, gets our glasses and makes his way to the kitchen. I lie on the couch and scan Netflix for Drag Race. Corpse comes back, placing the glasses next to the couch, and gently lies down on top of me. He nests his head on my chest and we both hum contently.  

While RuPaul announces what the winner’s prize will be, I play with his hair, letting my fingers knead his curls. His right hand flies up to meet mine and I bring our intertwined hands to my lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses. The gesture is cut by a loud laugh that escapes my lips as miss Vanjie Mateo’s iconic moment replays on the screen. 

“Hey,” Corpse’s voice makes me look right back at him “I love you. You know that, right?”

My heart melts at his words and at the way he’s looking at me right now. I nod with a smile.

“I love you too, birthday boy.”

[ashesandhalefire]

progress report: i am missing you to death

alex, michael, and a lot of unsaid things.

-

inspired by an entirely out of context teaser shot of alex and a desperate need for interaction that has yet to be satisfied by season 3 canon.

-

Deep Sky provides the coordinates and the time, so Alex shows up and waits.

While he stands in the cool night air, he scans the flat terrain that stretches out to one side and the gully where the highway sits. Other than the whizzing traffic, oblivious to his insignificance, everything is quiet.

After about twenty minutes of the vibrating stillness, Michael slinks out of the shadows with his hat tucked low over his face and leans against the back of the car beside Alex’s SUV.

Blood rushing in his ears, Alex does a second quick sweep of the lot’s perimeter. Nothing obvious has changed in the shadows since he crept through the bushes to check potential sight lines, but Alex isn’t stupid. He was in over his head when Project Shepherd turned out to be just his father’s backroom hobby. Deep Sky outclasses his expertise in a way he isn’t ready to reckon with. They could be anywhere—somewhere in the lot, somewhere down the road, somewhere miles away—and Michael has sauntered directly into their crosshairs.

He left about five feet between them when he stopped to hook one ankle over the other and stare out at the traffic, and the distance is enough for deniability. Alex tightens his hands into anxious fists and forces a long, deep breath through his nose.

“Hey,” Michael says with a casual nod of his head. They stand listening to the roar of tires chewing their ways along the desert highway, and Alex waits for a sign. He checks Michael’s chest for the red point of a laser sight just in case. Nothing happens. They stand a little longer, and then Michael leans over and asks, “You got a light?”

“No. You got a cigarette?”

The corner of Michael’s mouth twitches. It stirs up a fondness that Alex has carefully and surgically distanced himself from for the last few months, and he glances around the parking lot again. Being in love with Michael is too easy. He falls into it without needing to think about it or to try, and the laziness of trusting things to fate is probably why they’ve never gotten it right. He should probably consider himself lucky. Sinking back into those feelings now, fruitlessly, after so much time has passed, will make him sloppy in a way he can’t afford.

“You shouldn’t be here. They could see you.”

Michael tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugs, easy and unbothered. Or, almost unbothered. The muscles in his jaw are tight and tense. “You don’t even know what they do or if they’re looking for me. I haven’t exactly been hiding for the last year.”

“That doesn’t mean you should paint a bullseye on your chest.”

“But you should?”

Michael spits barbs like an old man working his way through seeded melon, careless and precise in equal measure. He always finds soft flesh.

“This isn’t a game,” Alex grits out, face growing hot with frustration. He watches a tractor trailer speed by on the road below and shoot a piece of trash out from beneath its tires.

“So tell me what it is, then,” Michael says, mouth turning down and voice suddenly going sharp as a knife’s edge, “because I didn’t really wait around to hear the rest of the story after Valenti said you were joining a cult.”

Alex looks over, and Michael’s brow is pinched to match the irritated wrinkle of his nose. Anger and tension leak off him like heat shimmers off the pavement at midday. He holds his casual posture, ankles crossed and hands tucked, but his eyes are furious.

“It’s complicated.”

Michael scoffs. “You know what, I shouldn’t bother. I should just drag your ass home, no questions.”

And now Alex’s temper flares: “Try it.”

“You think I wouldn’t? To save you?” He laughs meanly. “I’d have you over my shoulder so fucking fast—”

“I don’t need to be saved.”

“Obviously, you do.” Michael pushes off the car. The brim of his hat catches the light from the lamppost and casts half his face in shadows. “We have enough problems on our hands right now. We don’t need to poke the bear.”

“This bear poked first,” Alex says, equally furious. He checks behind Michael before hissing through his teeth, “They kidnapped Mimi. They drugged Jenna Cameron. Turnabout is fair play.”

“This isn’t turnabout! This isn’t even revenge. You’re joining their club. You are flinging yourself into a pit, Alex. A big, dark, deep pit, and when you get far enough in, none of us are going to be able to get you out. We’re gonna lose you. For good. And for no fucking reason.”

“Not for no reason,” Alex says. A tingle of shame trickles up the back of his neck. He knows he’s unprepared, going in without an exit strategy. But he can’t sit on his hands and do nothing. It makes him nervous and paranoid to be idle. “They know things.”

“Who gives a shit? Who gives one fucking iota of a shit about what they know?”

Alex frowns. “You have always wanted to know more—”

“Not like this! Not at the risk of—” Michael puts a fist to his forehead. Then he pulls off his hat and takes another step closer. His voice is softer when he speaks. “Why are you so hellbent on doing this, huh? This isn’t just your dad anymore. This is bigger than that.”

“I know.”

“They are gonna swallow you whole, and what’s the point if you’re just gone?”

Alex draws another long inhale through his nose. The weight of the thick, ugly ring on his finger feels like an anchor dragging him down. The memories of Caulfield crumbling to pieces in a cloud of fire are heavier. “If there’s even a chance that they know something, what choice do I have? I’m not getting caught off guard again. I owe you that much.”

“Bullshit,” Michael says with a jerk of his chin. “Doing it is one thing, but don’t pretend you’re doing it for me.” A pair of low-riding sports cars scream down the highway behind him, bobbing and weaving through the minimal traffic with their engines blaring. One falters behind a gas tanker and then chases its companion off towards the horizon with an roar. “If you had any interest in doing something for me, you would stay.”

Cold uncertainty creeps into Alex’s chest, and no number of layers can keep it out. He wants to ask: would I be welcome? Because he hasn’t felt like he would be in a long time. He had showed up, again and again. Sometimes, he had been wanted, and sometimes, he hadn’t been. The haze of open mic night had cleared for an instant, and the future had been visible, tangible, workable, and then, just as quickly, had vanished into the air. He had been left with Isobel’s obvious, humiliating pity, her mouth turned down as she stood to listen through the last note. That door had been closed. And yet, he wants to ask: would I be welcome? Dignity be damned.

“Are— are you asking me to stay?”

There must be something in his voice when he says it, no matter how hard he tries to control the pathetic wavering and the sunken surprise on his face, that means something to Michael. His whole body eases forward as if carried by an invisible current before he catches himself and says, “I’m done asking people for more than they’re willing to give me.”

“But you would ask? If you thought—?” Alex pushes. “You would want to ask?”

The corners of Michael’s mouth turn down and his gaze narrows almost imperceptibly, but Alex is watching for it. The more Michael closes off, the more Alex feels himself splitting open. Something bright and electric stirs in his chest.

“Because I thought you wouldn’t,” he says, waiting for the moment when Michael’s eyes widen, just slightly, just enough to understand. It comes, exactly as expected, and Michael sways closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d ask. I’m not about to beg, but I’d ask.”

He’s gotten Michael to beg before, but never for something as serious as love. On his back or on his knees or in the bed of his truck, Alex has heard him plead and bargain for things he wants in the neediest, most desperate whispers, but that had been all carnal, base pleasure, and he had known Alex wouldn’t tell him no. Here, he’s talking about a different type of submission, the kind that humiliates someone like Michael, someone who has never been given enough. Michael won’t beg, and Alex needs to be asked, and a lot of time has been wasted between them thinking that one is the same as the other.

He can’t say he’ll stay. He’s too far in to back out. And, even if he could do it, staying doesn’t mean riding off into the sunset. It means more of the same: the secrets, the conspiracies, the mysteries, the agonies, the scraping open of old wounds in last-ditch efforts to heal them. But it also means Michael, so everything else is white noise.

Michael sees it all play out on his face. He sets his hat on the roof of Alex’s car and then turns to lean against the hatchback. He sighs, and Alex can tell that more weight than usual is resting on his shoulders. It’s not just Max dragging him under. His whole body sags with it, and the sharp focus that’s been in his eyes begins to recede as he drifts away towards the call of whatever nightmare is lurking at the back of his mind.

“It’ll be okay,” Alex says because he lacks for anything else to say, and Michael  stares at his boots with a sad smile. His throat bobs as he swallows down whatever it is that’s too hard to talk about with so little time left to say it, and then he turns to look at Alex.

“Your dad was a piece of shit,” he says, like this is some sort of revelation, “and you’re you.”

The words, said like an accusation, should probably turn his stomach, but they’re also said with a reverence that pushes Alex’s heart up into his throat. Whatever is happening has rocked Michael to his core far beyond how Alex knows to help.

“Less of a piece of shit, I hope.”

Michael stares at him, flexing his hand, and then says, with a nod, “Significantly, yeah.”

“I guess that’s the best I can hope for.” Alex laughs, and then he tips his head back to look at the starless sky. “I’ll take being afraid of being like him over being proud of being like him any day. At least it means I’m going in the right direction.”

Jesse haunts Alex differently than he haunts Michael. To Michael, Jesse is another human face that did something terrible to him, just more proof that looking for another planet to run to is a good idea. Jesse is a more specific phantom for Alex, much harder to let blur into the background of the general awfulness of life. There are reminders of his father all around town: placards, photographs, the sign for the street they lived on, a six-foot statue in town square. Those can be faced much more easily than the hints of his father that Alex finds in the mirror: the deep-set wrinkles in his brows, the cut of his mouth when he frowns, the tone of his voice when he yells, the shape of his thumb. To be a little less like him every day is an exhausting but necessary struggle.

Michael smiles, and Alex, mystified, thinks maybe he managed to help after all.

“Your plan wasn’t really to drag me home over your shoulder, was it?” he asks to distract from how Michael carefully swipes a finger at the corner of one eye.

Michael huffs, and the car jostles. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just wasn’t about to let you go without—” He licks his lips and says, “I wasn’t about to let you just go.”

Alex scuffs his shoe against the loose gravel. “Couldn’t get Kyle’s hubcaps off this time?”

Guilt settles over him after he says it. Guilt and something else, something like the relief of setting down a heavy burden that’s been carried too long.

“I thought you were making a mistake back then, too.” Michael takes the comment in stride, accepts it, and reaches out to touch the ring on Alex’s hand. He pinches it carefully, Alex’s fingers curled into the heat of his palm, and rolls his thumb until the ring twists to expose the thinner underside of the band. He strokes, skin then metal then skin, over and over. “Flinging yourself into some dark pit that you’d never come out of again.”

Alex wants to tell him that this is different. He can’t.

“Do me a favor, okay?”

Hand slipping up over Alex’s wrist and into the soft corner of his elbow, Michael crosses the final inches of space between them and pulls Alex close. In the dim light of the parking lot, they might be mistaken for the sort of strangers who meet in shadowy corners for quick exchanges of misery with rough words and rougher touch. But then Michael, trembling, touches the lapel of Alex’s jacket and presses a long kiss to his cheek.

He keeps his mouth there, breath hot and soft, and, before he gathers himself enough to continue, Alex says, “I’ll come back.”

Michael laughs, but it sounds like a gasp for air. “Not even gonna let me ask?”

Alex hums. “I’ll come back.”

“Yeah, you’ll come back,” Michael warns, “or I’ll come get you. And it won’t be fucking subtle.”

It sends a shiver down his spine to think of Michael storming a place as infinitely large as Deep Sky feels. If it comes to that, he’d be better off left behind. But as the thought comes, Michael’s grip shifts and the tentative press of their sides becomes a full-bodied hug that envelopes him like a warm breeze. His nose turns into the side of Michael’s neck: rain, crisp and fresh; gasoline, but faint; smoke, from his fire pit.

“I’m not really going anywhere. It’ll be fine.”

Michael squeezes, and Alex squeezes back. Everything else he wants to say is too big for this moment. And, selfishly, he wants to know that Michael will wait to hear it. He scolds himself for the thought, because they’ve each done their share of waiting miserably at the wayside, but then he lets it stand. Michael squeezes again, fingertips digging into separate points as he clings.

Alex cups a hand to the back of his head and touches his curls. He thinks about what it would mean to kiss Michael now, to kiss someone that he loves, who loves him, and imagines a tower of precariously stacked dominoes. Michael laughs wetly, and Alex lets go first, fingers lingering reluctantly.

[fairyoftbz]

sunburnt | s. eric

☀ pairing: pharmacist! eric x fem!reader ☀ word count: 1.4k (i really can't write sth small smh) ☀ genre: fluff, sort of beach!au (?) ☀ tw: sunburns, some swear words here and there ☀ synopsis: after spending an afternoon at the beach, you painfully realised that you got sunburnt. ☀ a/n: I know it's shitty but this is just to express my pain bc I always get sunburnt lmao ☀ requested: no

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Getting rid of all the sand in your belongings, you swiftly slid your feet into your flip-flops and walked towards the bar located at the end of the beach. The barista handed you the bottle of soda you asked for and walked away, adjusting the sunglasses perched on your nose as the sun was still shining brightly.

Taking the afternoon off to enjoy some peace away from your bustling life was the best self-care decision you ever made. You kept your destination hidden and turned off your phone as soon as you stepped a foot in the burning sand, wanting the focus to be on yourself only. Work had been restless, and your colleagues had been giving you a hard time, so you wanted to spend some time alone to enjoy the time being, away from stressing at your desk and being in front of the computer screens all day.

The afternoon was pleasant. You had swum in the ocean for a while, drying on the sand until the heat became unbearable and went back in the water. Tiredness took over your body at some point, feeling thirsty and hungry, giving you a good reason to leave, excited to go back home to chill on your balcony instead. In the higher floors of the building you lived in, the air was still salty but fresher, and you preferred this over anything else.

Pausing for a quick second, you uncapped the bottle of soda with a swift flick of the finger before taking long sips, the sparkly feeling refreshing your throat. You sighed in relief when you reached your car, setting your bag and towel inside. But, as you were about to close the trunk, a sharp pain travelled your entire body, shooting from your upper arm to reach the lower part of your back. Confused, you winced and lowered your arm, walking to the side of your car to look at yourself in a window.

Your skin was gleaming bright red, suddenly feeling the uncomfortable pain of a throbbing sunburn. Placing your hand on your shoulder blade, you touched the skin and your eyes widened, feeling it burn under your palm and your skin turning white where you had pressed your fingertips.

With gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, you pushed the trunk down before locking your car despite your discomfort. Finding a pharmacy was the only way to relieve you from his pain because you doubted that the products found at the grocery store would be very efficient.

You quickly entered the first store you found, asking for directions. The man behind the cash register gestured you to the nearest pharmacy, bowing at him before going back in the sweltering heat. The more you moved, the more effort you had to reassemble to keep walking, realising that not only your shoulders were sunburnt, but also the remaining limbs of your body.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” you cursed yourself at the negligence you had for yourself, delicately placing the strap of your purse on your shoulder as you winced again.

It wasn’t the first time that you got this type of ache, you almost got sunburnt every single summer. Though you had tried every sunscreen purchasable in the market, nothing was well enough to shield your skin from the UV rays, no matter how high-protecting and promising the tube of sunscreen was. You shook your head as you walked to the pharmacy, mentally preparing yourself to suffer at every single movement you’ll do for the next few days.

The glass doors of the drugstore slid open, letting the air conditioning welcome you in a fresh embrace. Your skin lightly itched as you neared the never-ending mister a little too close, the simple contact of water against your skin was enough to make you wince. Looking around the shop for a while, much to your dismay, you couldn’t find any after-sun lotion. Replacing a tube on the shelf, you were about to ask for help when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You slightly flinched at the sensitive skin of your neck wrinkling as you turned around, offering a half-smile to the person in front of you. Wearing a white blouse above a white t-shirt and some chino pants hitched up at the end, the man in front of you greeted you with a smile, eyes filled with care and worry as they lingered on your reddened skin.

“Can I help you in any way?” he started, and you nodded, taking your sunglasses off, involuntarily displaying more of your sunburnt face. He hissed empathically at the sight of your red skin, and you sighed before bitterly chuckling.

“I know I should have been more careful, but I can't find a single brand of sunscreen efficient enough to protect my skin. Maybe you have some products that could help me heal it, at least?” the pharmacist nodded as his eyes couldn't leave the redness of your skin, his actions allowing you to see his name on the tag above his blouse pocket: Eric S.

“You need to be cautious, it's bad to ruin your cells and break some skin layers. I have rarely seen such type of sunburnt, it looks like you’re going to have to be patient for it to heal correctly. Uh, okay, let me go check if I have something for you,” he mumbled while detailing your skin, his fingers gently resting on your shoulder to turn you around, observing the reddened skin your clothes allowed to show. His eyes widened for a quick second at the damage, nodding at you before disappearing in the back office, his front pieces of hair flying up as he passed in front of a fan.

You stood there, waiting for him to come back, faking your interest in another product as the fresh air of the pharmacy allowed your body to cool down for a while. You couldn’t do anything with your body, crossing your arms became so hurtful that you had to stay with them dangling on your sides. Fortunately, the pharmacist was quick to come back with a large lotion pot in hand and a cylindrical tube in the other. He got hailed by another waiting customer but was quick to politely redirect him to one of his colleagues, walking back to you with a caring smile painted on his face.

“So, I have this lotion that is aloe vera based, and its benefits are very good for your skin. Not only for sunburns but also in general, if you have dry skin or even acne. It’s very moisturising and anti-inflammatory, and you can apply it as many times throughout the day as you want. You could also apply pure aloe vera taken straight from the branches, but I’m scared that all the local stores have run out of it,” he explained with a smile, walking towards one of the unoccupied cash registers, typing a few things on the screen.

“And the tube? What is it for?” you pointed at the thing, the pharmacist’s eyes not leaving the screen as he turned the tube around, recognising the white and orange packaging of a famous French brand for you to read.

“This is French thermal water, the same one that we diffuse at the entrance”, he said as he gestured to the steam of mist escaping from the machine next to the sliding doors. “It can help you freshen up and cool down your skin when the sunburnt is as consequent as yours. My sister uses it a lot, and it’s efficient according to her. She uses the cream as well, and she wears a bathing suit, it's the best way for the product to sink in well,” you thanked him as you took your wallet out, grabbing your credit card and pressed it against the machine, which emitted a sound at the end of your transaction.

“Don’t hesitate to come back if you need further explanation or anything else. Have a nice day!” your fingers grazed against his as you took the bag from him and walked out of the store, reaching inside the bag once you were on your way back to your car.

However, you stopped in your tracks as some ink coloured your fingertips, finding a post-it note stuck on the inside of the bag. The paper grabbed your attention by brushing against the skin of your forearm as you wanted to grab the facial water mister, impatient to get rid of this stinging sensation on your face. You frowned and peeled the note off, noticing hasty words messily scribbled on it.

maybe I can teach you correctly to put on sunscreen to avoid any other sunburns? ;) call me xx-xxx-xxx

[daredevilexchange]

Want to be featured here? Head to this page and fill in the form!

See what this is about here, or if you’re using the app here.

What’s your fannish ID? bleedxblack on Ao3, bleedxblack-art on Tumblr. The username comes from the AFI song Bleed Black, off of the forever iconic album Sing The Sorrow!

What types of fanworks do you create? I create digital art and fic! To draw I use Photoshop and a 15 inch XP pen tablet, the most recent model they came out with. Because of its size it isn't very portable, so I carry around a Wacom intuos tablet for on the dog situations. I picked up writing fic when I was a preteen and kept it up until now (weird to say out loud) but my primary focus as of the last year has been digital art! I really love drawing digitally and all I can do with it. Using different style brushes like watercolor brushes, charcoal/clalk brushes, they all honestly feel like different mediums even though it's all digital! Always looking to branch out. When not making fanworks I have an Etsy shop where I sew & make over porcelain dolls to make them look like something out of a horror movie, among other things. I also do makeup art on myself and other people!

What are your favourite types of fanworks, when you’re not creating? I read tons of fic and have loads of fanart on my phone I love looking at for my own pleasure and for inspiration in my own work. On Ao3, some of my favorite authors are buckybleeds, Hyperthetical, SkinSlave, itallstartedwithdefenestration, MarleyMortis and howler32557038. Some of my favorite artists are @leehanji​, @dorkbait​, @pineapplebread​, and @elkleggs​!

What do you like in particular about this fandom? My favorite ship is hands down Matt/Frank, but I've on occasion enjoyed Matt/Frank/Foggy *cough* check out the devil and me by lemonandpie *cough*. Because of how dark the characters are in the comics and in their shows, a lot of fanworks feature more whump than other fandoms do and I LIVE for it. I also really enjoy the age/gender/interests demographic of Daredevil fans compared to other subsets of MCU fandom. Not shading anybody just something I've really liked!

Do you like participating in fan events? Yes! I love using them as an opportunity to connect with other fans and to get more exposure for my artwork from the event pages themselves. I've met so many cool people through bingos/bangs/exchanges and it's been awesome. 

What about your creating process? I draw while I watch shows! Currently finishing up House of Cards, and most recently just binged the first two seasons of the Boys. Looking forward to season 3 a ton!

Do you interact a lot with other fans? I had a whole bunch of loyal commenters and readers on Wattpad back when I posted bandom content, a base of followers I built up over 6+ years. I've only just since quarantine started to really participate in online marvel fandom, even though I've been a fan myself since I was itty bitty. So suffice to say, I barely get any interaction on my artwork and get few comments on my fic. But regardless of that, it's super satisfying to make! And I've been trying to train myself to find value in the process of creating itself rather than just a quantifiable outcome at the end. If I could have it my way though, I'd definitely have more interaction since it feeds my soul and makes me so much more motivated to do my shit!

Do you have other fandoms you'd like to talk about? I'm big into Stucky and HTP (Hydra Trash Party), as well as some Supernatural and horror movies in general, classic or contemporary. The comics I'm the most into are around Batman, the Wolverine, The Walking Dead, and basically every winter soldier comic run that wasn't "bucky in space". Is there any particular piece you'd like to showcase for this post? I'm super proud of this painting! It was my first attempt at realism and my first fanart made on a digital tablet in the spring of this year. I've learned a ton since then but this is still a favorite. I'm super proud of how it turned out! https://bleedxblack-art.tumblr.com/post/659014600991309824/world-on-fire-daredevil-digital-painting Another one I'd share (explicit, so proceed with caution) is this collaboration piece with @mxaether featuring Frank Castle & Bucky Barnes. Super happy with how this one ended up too! I've got a thing for red and black color pallets, if you couldn't tell, ha.

Is there anything else you want to tell us about yourself? I'm a proud, proud father to two adorable cats [pic below]. And I strongly believe they should be featured in this post at least once.

Where can your fanworks be found? http://bleedxblack-art.tumblr.com https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedxblack

Thank you, @bleedxblack-art !

banner by @context-is-for-kingpins !

[ID on a white background, four black triangles that look like spotlights from above. Each illuminates one of the Defenders silhouetted in white: Jessica, Luke, Danny, Matt. A hand on the left is holding a pen writing the words Content Creator Spotlight. There is a little Punisher skull on the pen. End ID]

[greenninjagal-blog]

Deja Vecu

Hello, its been a while!! Please accept this release of the unpublished scene from Chapter Two of Deja Vu. Its basically 4k of Remus being gay for a stranger he keeps seeing die, and ain’t that a mood? :)

Summary: The Missing Scene in chapter 2 of Deja Vu, in which Remus agrees to help a stranger rob a casino.

Words: 4397

Read on Ao3 || Hero Worship Series || My General Writing Masterlist

At twenty-one years old, Remus finds out that robbing a casino is a lot less fun than Ocean’s Eleven led him to believe. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of security that went into protecting the chips and the cash on hand: following the path of the cash box from earlier, there’s two hired security guards framing the employee’s entrance, neither of whom like being touched nor can be persuaded to leave their posts together. There’s a card reader locking the door which despite looking like walnut wood, is actually steel with a clever paint job. And that’s just the first level.

“Predictable,” Dee says from where he had made himself comfortable on Remus’s bed with the complimentary note pad the hotel had supplied him. He had left his suit jacket on the desk to avoid the wrinkles but lounged on the foot of the bed without taking off his shoes. Remus had tossed himself down next to him, stretching out to gather all the pillows and built a throne for himself like he was eight instead of twenty-one.

Dee had watched him, back to wearing the face of the man who had approached him in the casino. Remus thinks he looks nice like that: hansom enough to please anyone who looked his way and charming enough to disarm anyone who might have seen him as out of place and forgettable enough that Remus couldn’t remember if they had gambled together previously.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Remus had pointed out. “I know what the real you looks like.”

Dee’s pen digs into the paper a little harder than necessary and Remus pretends he hadn’t noticed. The smile he receives is light and joking but it doesn’t meet his eyes at all. “I happened to like this appearance.”

Remus hums, “Lame. The scales are cool.” But he had let it drop in favor of twisting the purple casino chip between his fingers.

Dee taps his pen on the comforter in thought, his borrowed blue eyes distant as he mulled over Remus’s reports from futures that won’t happen. “What else did you notice?”

“Tessa isn’t your wife anymore, Danny.”

Dee snorts, which, by all means, should not be as graceful and elegant as he makes it seem. There’s a fluidity to the way he dips his head and scribbled on the pad of paper that makes him looks dignified. Or maybe that’s just the angle that Remus is looking at him with. A lock of his dark hair slips into his eyes and he brushes it back with two gloved fingers.

Remus falls back against the stack of pillows he had built around himself, breathing deeply and settling himself. The air smells like the lemon cleaner that the hotel staff had used to clean his room earlier when Remus had been out and about, but there’s hints of something else—something sweet and spicy with an undertone of wood.

--Dee blinks at the question, shifting so that he’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his palm. “I wonder,” He says, with eyes so bright and blue and innocent that Remus feels like he’s stuck in them, “if you mean the Cardamom scent from my aftershave.” And Remus’s heart beats just a little faster, a little harder, a little more.—

“When I ask what else you notice,” Dee says, drawing Remus back to the present, “I meant your other senses. You’ve told me about what you’ve seen. What about sounds? The smells? You said you experience this as a first-person thing, correct?”

Remus waves a hand. “Its both. I’m there in person but I’m also having an out of body experience, too.”

Dee squints. “Doesn’t that…get confusing? How can you interpret all the stimuli at once?”

“Stimuli! What, are you a scientist in your free time?” Remus mocks, but Dee’s shoulders tense at the insinuation.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He says, “I was just curious.” He’s not, though. Remus isn’t quite sure how he knows, but Dee’s curiosity is more than just a simple question. It feels like it’s more, like he’s gathering information and sorting it away for later, like he’s making decisions based on Remus’s answers that have nothing to do with the how they are going to get into a Vault protected by a six digit code that only three people have and then get back out with more money than they can physically carry.

“Shame,” Remus says, feeling the shift in the bed as Dee’s shoulders unwind. “If you were a scientist you could dissect me for all the goodies inside! Of course, you can do that without being a scientist, too, but it’s not as fun.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?”

Remus flips the coin in the air and catches it with the same hand. It comes up heads. “Why, does that scare you?”

Dee watches him, the pen absently twirling in the air between them. Remus can feel the weight of his gaze like a physical thing, pressing on his chest and making him self conscious of exactly how many breathes he’s been taking. The cotton comforter has a square pattern on it that he hadn’t noticed before, but he can count only three squares between the two of them. For some reason that information feels important.

“No,” Dee says after another moment passes and the air simmers. “I supposed it concerns me.”

Remus swallows the urge to laugh at his face.

“You just seem to be a useful person,” Dee continues, defensively. “I would hate to see that usefulness be squandered.”

This time Remus does laugh and it’s a bumbling bubbling burst of noise in their quiet world. His lungs shake and his heart hurts, but he laughs and something about it makes Dee’s smile softly too. The air is light, but there’s an underlying tension there, lurking in the shadows and reminding Remus that for all the dashing good looks and the semi honest expressions, the man before him is a stranger wearing a borrowed face and absolutely no one would miss him if he disappeared.

He flips the coin again, watching it roll over itself too many times to count, bounce off his hand and then flop to a stop direction between the two of them. Dee pokes it with the butt of his pen, like he was expecting it to get up and walk away.

“To answer your question,” Remus says, breathing in deeply enough to smell his cardamom aftershave and wondering why no one else in his twenty-one years of living had thought to ask him. “Seeing the future does get confusing. But it’s whatever. It never causes anything worse than a nosebleed.”

Dee hums and scribbles something down on his notepad. If Remus sat up just slightly, he would be able to see it, but he finds he likes the mystery more. Was it notes to use against him? Or was it things to think about in the future? Or was it still the colossal list of numbers they weren’t even a fraction of the way through?

--They manage to draw the guard’s attention away with a faked emergency: Remus never put stock in his own acting skills so he stumbles and falls on another patron and lets his head crack against the corner of the a craps table just far enough away that the guards are drawn the few steps over to check on both of them. Remus doesn’t bother responding to any of their prompts until Dee with the face of Tim the dealer swipes his borrowed card and lets the door behind him close. They had radios from the same place where Dee had procured the keycard from, and Remus thinks he could fall asleep listening to Dee’s breaths.

“Left, right, or center?” Dee asks.

“Left,” Remus hums, watching the casino patrons around him. A woman in her thirties just won at a baccarat table and tried to kiss the dealer. “There’s a camera at around the corner, but it roves. Your future self said to wait five seconds then go.”

Remus waves down a waitress and orders a mojito while he waits. Dee gives soft laugh at the concept and Remus tries to calm his nerves.

“You’re so uptight,” He says softly, almost to the point where Remus can’t hear him over the chattering of other people. “Relax a little, Remus. It’s just my life.”

“The Elevator code is 7-1-3-2,” Remus tells him. “And you’re going to want change your pretty little face to someone of a higher ranking on the casino hierarchy unless you want Terry Benedict to know what we’re up to.”

Remus holds his breath as the elevator dings, and then as Dee repeats the code as he types it in, and then as the doors rumble closed. He twists the glass of his drink when it comes as he listens for the subtle clues on how far Dee is inside the belly of the beast. It takes him a moment to realize that Dee is humming softly, and his lips twist into a smile without his permission.

There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his mojito and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. She’s still going to lose so Remus finds himself more entertained by trying to extract the lime from his drink than from watching her pout yet again when the ball lands on the red 36.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t understand how he does it. He glances down at the piece of paper in his hand and reads off the six-digit combination that was next on their list.

“5-1-3-2-7-6,” Remus presses a hand to his earpiece, listening as closely as he can. His breath shortens with each second, crafting infinities out of each passing tick. He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like a guillotine that’s cut their mission off a hundred-some times before.

“Hey man you, okay?” The person with Dee asks, less out of curiosity and more out of suspicion.

“Yes sorry my finger slipped,” Dee says quickly and punches in the next number in ascending order out of blind hope that it might be the correct one but it isn’t and Remus knows it because that’s when the person next to Dee asks him to back away and demands to know who he is and Dee’s placating answers are never enough so he tries to shift but bullets are faster than he is and Remus rips out his ear piece right before the gun goes—

“Another bust,” Dee sighs, drawing a snake on the corner of his paper. “Somehow I feel like we could win more playing on the casino floor than doing this….” He trails, off eyes distant again, thinking more about money than about the number of deaths Remus has witnessed.

It seems strange, that Remus would care so much more about that then he does, but in a way that doesn’t surprise him. Its Death with a capital ‘D’ and in Remus’s twenty-one years of experience, the only people who feared death were those who were aware of how close it was. Remus was practically best friends with Death, with the taste of the asphalt on the highway, with the feeling of a free fall, with the awkward fit of a hotel bathtub. He’s familiar with the cold silver of fear, but it doesn’t make him any less afraid.

Dee knows he keeps dying, though. Dying alone, deep inside a labyrinth of a building and Remus wonders if he should stop this while he’s ahead. He knows once that half hour mark hits in the future there’s no more Dee to be waiting for, no pay out. Just the pain of seeing a swarm of S.W.A.T. officers covertly weave between the patrons and leave with a human sized black bag. But Remus still waits and watches, holding dutiful vigil over a fruitless endeavor and letting hope build just for it to shatter with reality.

“Why does this mean so much to you?” Remus asks, somewhere between the fifteenth and the hundred fiftieth casino themed wake procession. His eyes burn a little, and he tries to tell himself it’s just the brightness of lights.

“Money is everything,” Dee marks the next two number off his list on his notebook and talks without listening to his own words. Its not fair that he sounds so convinced it’s true, when his mouth moves like he’s practiced this in the mirror. “What about you? Why do you continue to watch?”

Remus sinks back on his pillows, holding on to that faint scent of wood and spice and the feeling in his gut that comes from every time Dee listens to his advice from the future, from every time Dee listens and adheres, from every times Dee just believes.

Remus wonders how so much trust could be from this stranger who’s known him for an hour or two, and yet Roman had never been able to just accept what he said without an argument. He sounds crazy when he talks about what will happen, but Dee just nods and lets his lips twitch into a smile when handing him a roll of toilet paper.

Remus rips off another length the cheap paper and folds its in half before shoving it on his face. There’s blood in his mustache, which is frustrating and tastes just as gross as all the other times he’s had blood dripping down his chin.

“Remus,” Dee says, without looking up from his notepad.

“Yes, dearest stranger taking up half my bed?” He inhales hard.

“This is a fourth, at most.”

“Tomayto-tomahto.”

Dee shoots him a look that he can just barely make out around the clomps of flimsy paper he’s holding to his face. He looks like he’s trying not to be amused. Which is funny! Because, well, Remus can’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t related to him was in his company long enough to find him amusing.

“Why are you doing this?” Dee asks. “Other than the money, which we agreed would be a fifty-fifty split, regardless of how much we manage to walk out of here with….but somehow I don’t see money being enough for you to watch me die over and over again. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped me from lunging for that cash box.”

Remus is twenty-one when he shrugs and says, “It’s something to do.”

Dee huffs another dazzling laugh and for a moment Remus thinks he can see a flash of sharpened teeth in that smile, fangs like a vampire come to life, but it’s too fast for him to be sure. “Ah, I see we’re both liars tonight. Ready for the next attempt?”

Remus wonders if it’s still lying when its technically the truth. He’s doing this because its time spent with this shapeshifting sham, this enlightening enigma, this confusing con artist who lies as easily as breathing. Remus has a hard time believing anything personal he says is true, and yet he finds himself eyeing the three squared spaces on the comforter again wondering if it would be too much to make it two, one, none.

For someone who trusts Remus to see the future seven billions times as they try to figure out the vault code, who follows every direction Remus gives without hesitation, who continues to act as if Death is not something that can happen to him, he is extraordinarily hard to trust in return. Words are meaningless because he flaunts them, and Remus grew up watching Roman practice lines enough to know when someone was acting. Dee probably isn’t even his real name.

But Remus…Remus hasn’t been seen the way that Dee sees him before. Isn’t that enough for him to want to spend as long as he can with this stranger? Regardless of the danger Dee is running straight into? Regardless of the slight thrill that he gets from the prospect that they might get away with this?

-- There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his chocolate martini and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. He knows from all the other times he’s watched that she loses, although as he peaks over at the numbers she’s never far off. It must be that excitement of the near win that keeps her there.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t still understand how he does it.

“5-1-3-3-4-1.”

He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like the bells of victory when the code is right, holy shit. The Code was right. Dee’s breath catches in his throat, and Remus nearly drops his martini on the floor. His heart races in his chest with an emotion that he can’t quiet put a name too.

They did it.

They…won. Remus makes his way towards the doors where they were set to meet back up, and Dee continues a casual conversation with the armed guard about children as he fills both his briefcases with as much money as he can fit. By the breathless excitement in his voice, Remus can guess there’s more money in front of him than he expected to be able to get. He invites the guard over for family dinner next night because he’s an asshole and Remus finds that quality admirable.

He waves down a waitress to get a second drink, Dee’s celebratory drink, because as soon as he got past the doors they were home free-

“Hey! Hey! Stop him!” A voice yells in Dee’s ear and the shapeshifter curses.

“Remus!” He yells, “The executive is in the halls! He-!”

There’s a gunshot and a thud and Remus rips out his earpiece and screams loud enough to make all the nearest games freeze in their tracks—

“Let me guess,” Dee says, rolling over, “Another bust? The next numbers ar—”

“No,” Remus throws himself into a sitting position, and blindly grabbing for more toilet paper. The back of his throat is slick with a metallic taste and his head spins a bit when he tries to stand up. “No, Dee!”

“No?”

“Dee, we did it! That’s the code,” Remus says, pretending like his knees don’t buckle when the floor rolls under his feet. Dee is there in a moment, hands under his arms and holding him up completely. Its almost like a hug, Remus thinks distantly. He’s twenty-one and he can’t remember the last time someone hugged him even as a joke. His skin itches at the contact, blistering and burning at the warmth of someone else being so close to him. The cardamom scent is so strong, but Remus thinks he might be okay if that was the only thing he smelled for the rest of his life.

“Are you…okay?” Dee asks. “Why are you…?”

Remus uses the back of his hand to wipe away the stream of blood from his nose and inhales hard. “You died again. The executive you choose to impersonate is in the building and you run into him right before getting out with the cash.”

“Who was it? I can change into someone else.”

Remus shakes his head. “Oh no. I’ve got no clue, but if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s get someone’s attention.”

Dee grins, “You certainly got mine. What are you going to do?”

Remus slides his weight back and manages to stand on his own legs. Remus’s heart does a dance routine in his chest, moving like if it slows for even a second Dee will lunge forward and rip it from his body.

Remus tells him, “I’m going to go make a girl win at roulette so much they think she’s cheating. With a hundred thousand dollars on the line that should have their attentions, right?”

It’s not really a question. Remus knows from experience that the more games in a row that you win during a game involving so much luck, the more interest people start to take in it and you. He just needs to convince the girl to bet only where he tells her to, and then bet as much as she can.

He knows how to do it, too: simply walk up to her and offer her a free Barney if she bets on the square he tells her too. Once she wins, he tells her the next one, and maybe she puts a nickel down, or a quarter, just in case he’s wrong. When she wins again, he’ll tell her the next number, and she’ll put more on it. Then more. Then more. She doesn’t even need to believe that he can see the future. She just has to reap the rewards.

“Oh,” Dee says staring at him. “Oh.”

Remus isn’t sure what he’s looking at. He just knows that Dee’s eyes are as blue as the ocean and deeper than anything he’s ever drowned in. He’s looking at Remus again, like this is the first time he’s seeing him in this lighting, and when he smiles, his teeth are definitely sharper than before.

“I do believe,” Dee says, “we could make the best team of thieves there is out here.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” Remus asks. “Come on. I didn’t listen to you die nine hundred times just for you to chicken out now.”

He grabs his jacket, and buttons it. With a swipe of his hands he’s hair sets back in the position before, like some type of magic act. If Dee’s the magician, Remus thinks he would be honored to be in the front row every time he performs.

“So, you’d be up to doing this again, correct?” Dee asks, with his hand on the doorknob.

“They won’t fall for the same trick twice,” Remus says, “And what makes you think that this is something I enjoy?”

“I didn’t ask if you enjoyed it. I asked if you’d do this again. Not here, but somewhere else.” Dee glances at him, side eyeing him in a way that makes the hair on the back of Remus’s neck stand on end. “You still owe me.”

“What?” Remus turns to face him, and if there’s a spark in his chest, a nudge of excitement, well who can blame him? People don’t usually want him to stay around.

Another step in the hall. “We made a deal, unless you’ve forgotten. You said that if I could figure out how you were cheating, you’d do one thing that I want you to do.”

Remus snorted and motioned between them, “What do you call this? What we’ve been doing for the past hour?”

“This?” The man gives him a shark-like smile, “You did this of your own volition!”

“I seem to recall you asking,” Remus challenges.

Dee shakes his head too innocently. “Not in this timeline.” He pulls out his pale-yellow handkerchief and offers it to him, “You still have blood on your face by the way.”

There’s something nice about the way that this man is looking at him, the way he’s still looking at him, like Remus is something more than a nuisance, more than a distraction, more than an unwanted, frustrating intrusion. It makes his knees weak and the back of his throat taste like blood again and he so desperately wants to look to the future but won’t let himself do it.

“What do you want?” Remus says, because the uncharacteristic fear in his chest is slowly turning all his organs to butterflies and he never goes back on a promise.

“Well, you did say anything I wanted right? Anything at all?”

Remus nods, rolling his finger over the snake design on the stolen poker chip. Suddenly there doesn’t seem to be enough air in the world, and he’s afraid if he inhales too deeply trying to get more, the whole reality will shatter.

Dee’s form shimmers, shivers, and dissolves into Tim the dealer as they wait for the elevator to take them back to the casino floor. It’s an entirely different person but when he looks at Remus all he can see is Dee’s expression.

“Well, Remus,” He says, “After we finish up here, I want you to come with me. Work with me a bit. Let me help you amass a bit of a fortune. Strictly professional, of course. I won’t ask about your past and you don’t ask about mine. We don’t even need to be friends! Just…”

Dee offers out a gloved hand to him. “Business partners?”

Remus is twenty-one and he thinks there might be a timeline out there where he says no, but he doesn’t even entertain that thought.

“Business Partners,” He says and shakes on it.

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 6

(Y/n)'s POV

Once I get over the fact that my brother's Latin teacher was half horse, we have a nice tour.

We pass by the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudge each other. One points to the Minotaur horn Percy is carrying. Another says, "It's them."

Most of the campers are older than me. Their satyr friends are bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. I'm not normally shy, but the way they are staring at me and Percy makes me uncomfortable. I feel as though they want us to do a flip or something.

I look back at the farmhouse. It's bigger than I'd realized - four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I'm checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something catches my eyes, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I get a distinct impression that I'm being watched.

"What's up there?" I ask Chiron.

He looks to where I'm pointing and his smile fades, "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?" Percy asks.

"No," he says with finality. "Not a single living thing."

I get the feeling that he's being truthful, but I am also sure something had moved that curtain.

As we get closer, I realize how huge the forest is. It takes up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron says, "The woods are stocked if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" Percy asks. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own swords and shields?"

"My own - ?" Percy is cut off.

"No," Chiron interupts. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do for you, Percy, and a size three for you, (Y/n). I'll visit the armory later."

Finally, Chiron shows us the cabins. There are twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They are arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on each side. And they are, without a doubt the most bizarre number above the door.

Except for the fact that each has a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they lock absolutely nothing alike. Number Nine has smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number Four has tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seems to be made of solid gold, which gleams so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all face a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field is a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it is a warm afternoon, the hearth smolders. A girl, maybe nine years old is tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. I wave at the girl and she looks surprised, as though no one acknowledged her often, and waves back with a smile.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, look like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin One is the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmer like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seem to streak across them. Cabin Two is more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls are covered with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" Percy guesses.

"Correct," Chiron says.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

I stop in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It isn't high and mighty like Cabin One, but low and solid. The outer walls are of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashells and coral as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. I peek inside the open doorway and Chiron says, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he can pull me back, I catch the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glow like abalone. There are six empty bunks with silk sheets turned down, but there is no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place feels so sad and lonely, I am glad when Chiron puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Come along, (Y/n)."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on Percy and gives him an evil sneer.

"Oh, look," Chiron says as we approach Cabin Eleven. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House is reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven. When we reach her, she looks me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drool.

I try to see what she was reading, but I can't make out the title. Then I realize the title isn't even English. The letters look Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There are pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Annabeth," Chiron says, "I have Masters' Archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and (Y/n) from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin Eleven," Chiron tells us, gesturing towards the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, Eleven looks the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. the threshold is worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway is a caduceus.

Inside, it is packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags are spread all over the floor. It looks like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron doesn't go in. The door is too low for him. But when the campers see him, they all stand and bow respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron says. "Good luck, Percy, (Y/n). I'll see the two of you at dinner."

He gallops away towards the archery range.

Percy's POV

We stand in the doorway, looking at the kids. They aren't bowing anymore. They are staring at us, sizing us up. I know this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Annabeth prompts. "Go on."

So naturally, I trip coming in the door, and (Y/n) grabs my upper arm, straightening me up. There are some snickers from the campers, but none of them say anything.

Annabeth announces, "Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asks.

I don't know what to say, but Annabeth says, "Undetermined."

Everyone groans.

A guy who is a little older than the rest comes forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy, (Y/n). You can have those two spots on the floor, right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and he looks pretty cool. He's tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wears an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance is a thick white scar that runs from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

"This is Luke," Annabeth says, and her voice sounds different somehow. I glance over and swear she's blushing, but after a moment she sees me looking, and her expression hardens again. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" (Y/n) asks, looking rather curious.

"You're undetermined," Luke explains. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I look around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they are waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will I be here?" I ask.

"Good question," Luke replies. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laugh and (Y/n) facepalms.

"Come on," Annabeth tells us. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"We've already seen it."

"Come on."

Annabeth grabs my wrist and drags me outside. I can hear the kids of Cabin Eleven laughing behind me and (Y/n) waves good-bye shyly.

When we are a few feet away, Annabeth says, "Jackson, you have to do better than that?"

"What?"

She rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you two were the ones."

"What's your problem?" I'm getting angry now, (Y/n) watching us cautiously. "All I know is, we kill some bull guy -"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth tells me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

I shake my head. "Look, if the thing we fought is really the Minotaur, the same one in the stories . . ."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So..."

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"Percy," (Y/n) says calmly. "I think what Annabeth is saying, is that monsters eventually reform."

Annabeth nods and I think about Mrs. Dodds. "You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword—"

"The Fur...I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep," Annabeth answers and (Y/n) suppresses a laugh.

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

Annabeth glances nervously at the ground as if she expects it to open up and swallow her. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" I sound whiny, even to myself, but right then I don't care. "Why do we have to stay in Cabin Eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

I point to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turns pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or...your parent."

She stares at me, waiting for me to get it.

"Our mother is Sally Jackson," (Y/n) says softly. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, (Y/n). But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."

"He's dead," I say simply. "We never knew him."

Annabeth sighs. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say -"

"Because I know the two of you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about us.

"No?" She raises an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How -"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

I try to swallow my embarrassment. "What does that have to do with anything?"

(Y/n)'s POV

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course, the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like...you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar."

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're both half-bloods."

A half-blood.

I am reeling with so many questions I don't know where to start.

Then a husky voice yells, "Well! Two newbies!"

I look over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin is sauntering towards us. She has three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean-looking like her, all wearing camo jackets.

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighs. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl says. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

"Erre es korakas!" Annabeth says, which I somehow understand is Greek for 'Go to the crows!' though I have a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounds. "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse says, but her eye twitches. Perhaps she isn't so sure she can follow through on ht threat. She turns towards me, then she looks at Percy. "Who are these's runts?"

"Percy and (Y/n) Jackson," Annabeth says, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Aries."

Percy blinks. "Like . . . the war god?"

Clarisse sneers. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," Percy says, seemingly recovering his 'wits'. "It explains the bad smell."

Long story short, Percy made the toilets explode.

Yeah, I said it. He made the toilets explode . . .

Word Count: 2455 words

[1-800-hellraiser]

EWTBATF Vlahd x Teen!reader Oneshot

(!NOTE: THIS IS NOT A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE READER AND VLAHD, THIS IS A FATHER DAUGHTER TYPE RELATIONSHIP!

Hello! I made this oneshot for people with daddy issues who used to simp for Vlahd but now want him to be your dad. The reader uses they/them pronouns because I want everyone to be able to feel included while reading this.

Vlahd and Eddsworld The Beginning and The Friend doesn't belong to me! It's a fancomic made by Makenzie Matthews, Jaculynn Kristiansen, Alyssa Grissom and Brittany Clark. Eddsworld belongs to Edd Gould. If I use any art in this oneshot I will credit the artist and give their socials.

P.s: If this is well received, I might make a story about this, so stay tuned~

P.p.s: I know this isn't Creepypasta content, but I felt like doing something a bit different.)

!DISCLAIMER! This oneshot deals with a lot of gore, mental, emotional, and physical abuse, fighting, missing body parts, and swearing! If you are sensitive to these topics, I advise you don't read this oneshot! Also, some spoilers for the fancomic EWTBOTF, so if you haven't read it or haven't been reading it for the past few months, I urge you to do so. Not just for this oneshot, but the comic is also pretty good!

Tessellate

Word count: 3,569

Song: Tessellate - Alt J

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Three guns, and one goes off. Ones empty, ones not quick enough. One burn, one red, one grin. Search the graves while the camera spins."

The same thing happened every single day. You would wake up to screaming, try to shower and do your morning routine without being interrupted, spend the rest of the day your home trying not to get involved with your parent's marital issues, go to school, do chores, get screamed at for not doing something right, eat dinner, do homework, cry, then go to bed. This was your life since you were ten years old. Your biological father died when you were nine, then your mother got remarried a few months after your tenth birthday.

Your parents were very emotionally and mentally abusive. Sometimes they hit you, but would feign sorrow to try to make you feel safe around them. They continued this behavior for years, until you were thirteen. Apparently, your stepfather had gotten into some shady business with the infamous Red Leader. You had to move from your home country to England so your stepfather could work with the Red Leader. You were miserable, you had lost all of your friends you had in school. You had to go to a private boarding school, you never got picked on, but you found it hard to make friends. After a few moths, you finally got comfortable with your new surroundings.

One day though, that all changed for the worse. Your mom and stepfather got into a huge argument, apparently your mom was cheating on a man in the same army as your stepfather. He hit your mom, your mom left right after that. He then hit you really hard in the face, so hard that it left a mark. You burst into tears and ran to your room. You emptied out your book bag, and threw some clothes, hygienic products, your phone and charger, etc, into it. You quietly walked out of your room and out the front door while your dad wasn't looking. You walked down the streets of your neighborhood and out into the little town a few blocks away.

Popping your earbuds in, you listen to some music to try and calm yourself down. You walk around town for a about an hour before you passed a creepy alleyway. Unbeknownst to you, a man stepped out of that alleyway. He lightly tapped you on the shoulder. You stop dead in your tracks. You shakily turn around and take out your earbud to confront the man. A man with shaggy brown hair, an eyepatch, big eyebrows, and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth stood before you. Its Paul, your stepfather's mate!

Paul asked why you weren't at your house and offered to take you back. You explained what happened and Paul was shocked and disgusted with your stepfather's behavior. He took you back to the Red Army base and let you stay there. You agree and he takes you to the base. As soon as you get there, Paul took you to talk with Red Leader himself. Scared, you explain to the Red Leader what happened with your mom and stepdad. Red Leader let you stay on base on one condition. You have to serve in the Red Army when you turn sixteen. You agreed because you had nowhere else to go.

It's been five months since your sixteenth birthday. You have been integrated into the Red Army, and you have made a bunch of freinds on the base. It's not so bad working for the Red Army. You even have a father figure now. Even though you'd never tell him you consider him a father figure, in fear of him not being ready to be a dad and pushing you away. Sargent Major Vlahd has been training you since you were fourteen. You started out being very skittish towards him. You didn't know what he would do to you. Eventually, you two have grown closer and closer together.

Vlahd has been teaching you Russian, and you have been working your ass off during training with him. He has taken you under his wing and now you live with him in an apartment Red Leader has for him. All of Red's most important people have their own apartment-type rooms. Vlahd's is built with a living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and an entire ass library. Your room is right across from Vlahds. You have to do chores in your and Vlahd's apartment as well, but it's a small price to pay for a roof over your head and a non-toxic father figure.

"Y/n, ужины готовы (Y/n, dinner's ready)." Vlahd calls from the kitchen, you get up from your desk and decide to finish your studies later. You walk into the kitchen and see a big pot on the stove, whenever that big pot comes out, you know he's making borscht. You celebrate in silence and take a bowl from the cupboard. You spoon some borscht into your bowl, then you proceed to the dinning room table to sit with Vlahd. A little tradition you both started to do to make tou more comfortable around him. "So, how was your day?" You ask, to get a conversation going. "Все было хорошо, а как насчет твоего (It was okay, what about yours?)?" "Mine was pretty good." You say, spooning some borscht into your mouth.

"О, между прочим, Красный Лидер хочет, чтобы я нашел солдата, который недавно ушел из МВД. Так что завтра тебе не нужно тренироваться или учиться, у тебя выходной (Oh, by the way, Red Leader wants me to go find a soldier who has gone MIA recently. So you don't have to do any training or studies tomorrow, you have the day off.)." Vlahd finishes. You nod your head in understanding. "Who do you have to find?" It was often that soldiers went MIA to try and get out of the army and Red Leader's deal. Red is a ruthless man. "Мэтт, я думаю, его зовут (Matt, I think his name is)."

A small 'ohhhhh' left your mouth. Vlahd has had problems with this soldier before. He was not following orders, so Vlahd was ordered to contain him with any force necessary. That didn't go so well. Apparently, another person with Matt turned into a fucking horned beast and sent Vlahd to the medical wing for two weeks. He had broken two of Vlahds ribs and broke his leg. Finishing up your borscht, you bid Vlahd a goodnight, put your bowl and spoon in the sink, and return back to your room to finish your studies before you go to bed.

You awake to your alarm beeping at you. Sighing, you begrudgingly get up and put on your uniform and proceed to role call . After that, you take off your uniform and pick out your clothes for the day. If you're off duty, you don't have to wear your uniform. You pull out a f/c sweater and a pair of black jeans. You get dressed and go to the bathroom, Vlahd has already left, so you have the bathroom all to yourself. You take a shower and proceed with your morning routine. After you're done, you decide to make yourself some toast and have a nice cup of coffee. After you finish your breakfast, you clean up the kitchen and bathroom out of boredom. You pull out your phone and check the time. The digital screen reads 10:36 am, you groan out of boredom. Then, a wonderful idea popped into your head, you decided to take a walk off base.

You made sure to write a note for Vlahd and stuck it on the fridge if he returns before you're back. You also ask Red Leader if it's okay. He said that it was, so you go ahead and take a secret trail off base and into a huge, lush forrest. You stick in some earbuds and continue to walk into the forrest. From this trail, there is a small town on the other side. Usually when the base runs low on food, plates, utensils, etc, there is a store where you can buy things in bulk for cheap. You also know of a small café where you like to get drinks, they have really good tea and coffee. You arrive at Le Café de Campagne and enter. You order your favorite drink off the menu. You pay and sit down at the cute tables. The café was heavily inspired by France, with relatively French architecture and design.

Cute glass tables and tall chairs are scattered around the small café, a gorgeous mural is painted on the back wall near the counter and cash register. The mural depicts a beautiful countryside with a small cottage to the left behind a field of yellow and pink flowers. In the background, snowy-topped mountains and another cottage sit beautifully. The baby blue sky and fluffy clouds pull the entire piece together. Cute black vases hold pink and yellow tulips along with napkins, salt, and pepper. A display counter with delectable sweets ranging from Macaroons to Tarte Tatin sit in the window, ready to be eaten. On top of the display counter sits a miniature Eiffel Tower, and a bunch of other mini versions of popular tourist attractions such as the Louvre and the Notre Dame cathedral. The people who work there are pretty cool as well. You know most if the people that work there, such as Andrea. She's been working at the café since it opened three years ago. She's easily one of the sweetest people you've ever met.

"Y/n, you're order is ready!" Andrea's sweet voice calls to you. "Thank you so much, have a good day Andrea!" "You too Y/n!" She calls as you walk out the door. You continue to stroll through the tiny town, looking into windows of small shops. You stop in front of a small thrift store, you decide to look around. You start in the CD and DVD section. You found a CD of your favorite band, and a Smash Mouth CD, both for lest than a euro. Obviously, you decide to buy them. You go looking around in the long sleeve shirt section. You pulled out a cute blue-grey sweater that says "Big Dick Energy" on it in bold letters, as if it were school apparel. You look at the tag, it's your size and only five euros. You take that with you as well. Moving across to the pants section, you find a cute pair of high waisted black ripped jeans. They're your size and only seven euros, so you take it. You bring your items up to the cashier, you pay, then you leave.

You decide to walk more into the forest. You take a short cut through an alleyway between the thrift store and a small bank. You push past a few stray branches and step over some shrubbery. You walk along a naturally formed pathway, admiring the beauty of the nature around you. You keep walking until you feel a droplet of rain fall on your forehead, then a couple more. You take cover underneath a tree as rain pours from the sky. You slide your small f/c backpack off of your shoulders and pull out a travel sized sketchbook and a pencil case full of pencils and pens. You take out a graphite pencil and begin to sketch out some scenery infront of you. Rows upon rows of tall oak trees sit infront of you, along with a line of small bushes keeping the trees from growing onto that pathway. The dirt pathway is damp with rain water, some weeds and flowers have managed to grow through the pathway.

After you're done, you marvel at your sketch, you're definitely putting this on your wall later. You pack up your sketchbook and utensils. You also manage to fit your new thrifted items into your bag as well. You pick up the cup that houses the few drops left of your drink from the café. You quickly make it back to town and find a garbage can to throw the cup away. The rain is still coming down hard, and it's getting dark out. You pull out your phone and check the time. Your digital screen reads 16:57 (4:57 pm). You slip your phone back into the pocket of your jeans and hurriedly walk back to base. Almost slipping in mud a few times, you make it back to base. Once you enter your and Vlahd's apartment, You speed walk to your room and peel off your soaking wet clothes. You enter the bathroom and toss your clothes into the washer to clean them.

Slipping on the clothes you bought, you put away your CDs, wallet, sketchbook, and pencil case. You flop on your bed, now bored. You decide to re-read your favorite book, you haven't read it in a while. In the middle of you reading your book, you got a text from Vlahd. 'Подойдите к входу в большую базу, это срочно (Come to the big entrance, it's urgent.' The text reads, you respond with an 'okay'. You throw another pair of shows on that aren't soaking wet and speed walk to the big entrance in the base. That entrance is usually used for big shipments of cargo, you wonder what could have happened. Anxiety begins to catch up with you and so many negative thoughts run wild in your head. Your speed walking turns into a jog, which turns into a run, which turns into a sprint. You're dodging soldiers as you sprint down to the big entrance.

"Sargent Major Vlahd!" One of the nurses says in shock. You turn the corner just in time to see Vlahd, kneeled over. Your eyes begin to well up with tears. He's covered in blood, parts of his uniform are gone and replaced with huge gashes, his left arm is completely gone. He looks up at you, he sees you almost in tears, he tries to stand back up, but one of the nurses grabs his arm. "Take him to the infirmary, stat!" She says, trying to hustle him past the crowd that formed behind the nurses. Everyone is talking around you, can't hear anything though because of how shocked and overwhelmed you are. Vlahd tries to say something to you, but he's in so much pain that he cant speak. You have people step aside so the nurses can get through to make it to the infirmary in time.

You follow them to the medical wing, you try to follow them into the infirmary, but they won't let you. That's kind of understandable though, considering he needs emergency surgery to fix his arm, or what he has left of his arm. You see him through the infirmary window. Making eye contact with you, he gives you a weak smile before passing out from blood loss. You decide it's best to go back to your apartment, and wait it out. One of the nurses gave you her number to get updates on how Vlahd is doing. She knows how close you are with him, she could tell by the look in your eyes that you were devastated when he came back. You enter the apartment and go straight to your room.

You can't help but cry. You lost one of your father figures and you sure as hell aren't going to lose another one. In the middle of you sobbing, you get a text from the nurse, saying that Vlahds surgery was successful. He's going to have to stay in the infirmary for two to three weeks, but he's going to recover. You start sobbing harder out of pure joy. You hadn't even realized that you've been sobbing for almost two hours straight. The clock on your phone reads '20:37' (8:37 pm). You quickly go out to the kitchen and heat up some leftover borscht from last night. After you finish dinner, you go to bed. All of that crying made you exhausted.

Waking up was a but hard today, but you knew if you didn't show up for role call, Red Leader would be upset. Nobody want's to upset Red, he's terrifying when he's angry. So, you begrudgingly get up and grab an extra uniform you have. Walking into the bathroom, you remember about your clothes from last night. You take them and shove them in the dryer. You do your morning routine and then throw on your uniform half hazardly in a rush to get to role call. Making it to the role call room a bit early, you check your schedule for today. You have patrol with Paul today and that's it. Patrol is just you and Paul standing outside if the bases main entrance to make sure no one comes that isn't expected. Usually these are six hour shifts, but you only have to do four today. Thankfully its only a four hour shift today, you don't think you're mentally well enough to stay for six.

After role call, you met Paul by the main entrance of the base. You two greeted each other, then stayed silent. Until Paul spoke up, "I'm so sorry kiddo. I know this can be very stressful, especially when someone you're close to gets severely injured. It's really not fair what happened to him. Hopefully, he'll recover soon and things will go back to some sort of normality." You pull Paul into a tight hug. A few tears slip out of your tired eyes.You haven't had the time to really process this information. Now that you are on patrol, you can kinda marinate in your thoughts. You pull away from Paul's embrace, "Thank you Paul, I really needed that." You sigh, wiping away the tears that stuck to your flushed cheeks.

After Patrol, you go back to your apartment and change. You change into the Maroon sweater and jeans that are in the dryer. Before you head to the infirmary, you text the nurse to see if Vlahd is awake. Vlahd is a stong man, so the nurses and doctors had to use a lot of anesthesia to keep him unconscious during surgery. The nurse said he was awake, just a bit groggy. You thank the nurse and haul ass to the infirmary. You arrive at medical wing. The medical wing is confusing as hell to navigate. Its three floors, one is where the receptionist desk is, the waiting room, and all the machines like the x-rays, the cat scans, etc. The second one is used for less severe injuries, the third one is used for intensive care. Vlahd is on floor three, room number 108.

"Hello honey, what brings you to the medical wing today?" The receptionist asks in a heavy Jersey accent. "Hello, I'm here to visit Sargent Major Vlahd." The receptionist nods and types something on her keyboard. "Oh! You're Y/n, correct?" You nod. "Okay, sign this out for me please and write your name on this." She hands you a clipboard with a piece of paper you had to fill out in order to visit someone in intensive care. She also hands you a visitor pass that you stick on your shirt. Kind of like a name tag. You fill out the paperwork and pads, then you put the visitors pass on your sweater. You give the paperwork back to the nurse. "Alright sweetie, you know where Vlahd's room is right?" You nod. "Okay, have a good one!" "You too miss." You respond to the receptionist.

You impatiently ride the elevator up to floor three. As soon as the elevator opens, you speed walk to Vlahds room. Knocking on the door, you wait for permission to enter the room. "You can come in hon." The nurse says from the other side of the door. Proceeding to enter the room, all your attention goes to Vlahd. He looks miserable. "I'll leave you twonalone for a while, just hit the bed alarm if you need me." The nurse says then leaves the room. As soon as the nurse leaves the room. You sit down next to him, and try to hold in your tears. You dont want to overwhelm him more than he probably already is. Vlahd tries to sit up, but you try to make him lay down again, he can't be straining this much. Although, considering Vlahd is a powerhouse of strength, you didn't get very far.

Instead, you gave up on fighting against him. Surprisingly, Vlahd pulls you into a tight hug. "Все в порядке, дорогая, все будет в порядке (It's okay honey, it'll all be okay.)." You broke down once again, sobbing into Vlahd's shoulder. You unknowingly grabbed fistfuls of his gown. "P-please don't ever leave me, I can't handle this, please d-don't ever leave me dad-" you cut yourself off has soon as 'dad' left your mouth. "I'm so sorry Vlahd, I-I didn't mean to- " "Y/n." Vlahd silences you. "Все в порядке. Я горжусь тем, что являюсь твоим отцом. Ты чертовски ребенок (It's okay. I'm proud to be your father figure. You're one hell of a kid.)." Vlahd states, you hug him once again.

"Thanks, dad."

[threeletterslife]

Resonance

→ summary: your college art final prompt is so unbelievably broad that you might just flunk it because you have no idea what you’re gonna draw. luckily, there’s a cute guy who’s totally into you that might just help you out. even better: he’s a merman.

→ pairing/rating: taehyung x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 80% crack, 20% fluff | mermaid!au & bullet point fic

→ warnings: profanity

→ wordcount: 9.4k

cr.

well

this is just

great

you are a creative person

you are a creative person

you ARE a creative person

ok maybe if you keep saying that in your head, it’ll come true

but fat chance

because you're still drawing a blank

your university professor JUST released the art final prompt

and it is the most broadest and vaguest prompt you've seen in your whole entire nineteen years of life

it sucks!!

like what the fuck?

how are you supposed to draw something that "calls to you"

what's that supposed to mean???

your best friend yoongi tries to help you interpret the wack prompt

but you really shouldn’t be trusting a guy who uses art sketchbooks as scratch paper to solve batshit crazy math problems for fun

it’s a no brainer that yoongi’s a no-nonsense chemical engineering major

in conclusion, he wouldn’t know aRT

not like you do anyways

he can barely draw a stickman. and he even has shitty handwriting (that’s so barely legible that he always gets called back after finals to translate his writing for the prof)

enough roasting your best friend though

especially when he’s actually trying to lend you a hand

“what calls to you…” yoongi trails off thoughtfully

he lets out a snort

“ha!” he says triumphantly. “y/n, i got it!”

“really?!”

“just draw a phone with your mother coming out of it!”

you frown. “i don’t get it”

yoongi sighs, shaking his head disdainfully

“because your mother literally calls you on the phone, y/n”

“i hate you”

yoongi is no help

“prof would flunk me if i turned a drawing like that in”

yoongi snorts. “or she’ll give you extra points for thinking literally. artists these days are so into thinking outside of the box. maybe you’ll be unique for being literal”

god no

being literal won’t fly with your professor

she’s the fucking queen of abstract art

if you hand her a painting of your mother coming out of a fucking phone, she might just burn the piece in front of your face

besides, you can’t draw something that doesn’t stir some sort of inspiration in you

no offense to your mother (but she’s also a no-nonsense physician)

yoongi’s just back at it again with his nonsensical advice

you’d expect better from the dude who does math for fun

“you know what?” you huff. “i can’t trust a guy who uses a freaking sketchbook to solve advanced calculus problems”

yoongi grins. “just tryna help, y/n”

“my god”

“wanna help me since i helped you?” yoongi teases

he holds up a stack of paper riddled with numbers with one too many digits and foreign symbols from the greek alphabet

ew

you feel like you’re gonna puke

“aaaaand goodbye!” you say, standing up from your seat at the campus cafe. “i’m gonna go to the beach!”

“right now??”

“yeah why not?” you laugh, shrugging. “i need some inspiration!”

“but then i’m gonna look like a loner sitting here all by myself,” yoongi pouts

“then come with me, duh”

yoongi gives you a look of repulsion

“i hate the beach,” he grumbles

“fine,” you snort. “just call hoseok or something. i don’t know. but i’m leaving! bYe!!”

you can hear yoongi cursing at you under his breath and you laugh

he’s got such a mouth of a sailor that he honestly belongs on the beach—if not, the ocean

you pay his cursing no mind as you rush out the cafe and across the school campus

the literal reason you chose to attend this university was its close proximity to the beach

you’ve always been drawn to the waters

yoongi, on the other hand, only came here because of a scholarship

smart bastard

but he’s a good friend

it’s kinda sad you’re always hanging on the beach alone though

you don’t particularly fit in with the rowdy party crowds on the sand

and you don’t go there to flaunt your summer body in a bikini

you just go for

~inspiration~

by the time you reach the beach, it’s nearly empty

when it’s nearing finals, no one dares to step foot on the warm sand because once you go in, there’s no way in hell you’re going back

some students learn the hard way

and then end up flunking their finals

it’s you

you’re ‘some students’

(to be fair, that was freshman year and you’re a sophomore now, so you won’t make the same mistake again!!)

okay… maybe

you’re on the beach and it’s nearing finals so maybe you haven’t learned your lesson

but in your defense, you’re only here for

~inspiration~

the salty ocean breeze caressing your face

the smell of open waters

the brisk air

you would live on the beach if you could

there’s a small little rocky ledge at the far side of the beach that serves as your little private area you’ve been using since you got here

no one ever comes this far

so you just claimed the rocky ledge as yours

it’s where there are cute little crabs roaming about

where the bright orange starfish and sea anemones attach themselves to the rocks in the shallow tide pool and (maybe) watch you watch them

(you don’t exactly have extensive knowledge about ocean life lol)

omg there was even this one time when you saw a fish in the tide pool

granted, it was dEaD so you had to make yoongi carry it in a plastic bag and give it a proper burial ceremony

anywho

you love sea animals and plants!!

for a brief second as you crawl onto the rocky ledge you contemplate if you should draw a fucking fish for your art final

technically, it calls to you… right?

the late afternoon sun warms up your cheeks and you sigh, out, leaning back to admire the waves of the ocean lapping at the wet sand on the beach

if you just lie like this, basking in the sun… you’ll come up with an idea… right?

two hours later, you’re still stumped

“well, fuck,” you curse

the tide’s starting to come in and your feet are already underwater

it looks like you should just go back to your dorm at this point

you’ll find your ~inspiration~ tomorrow

you sigh

why can’t you think of a cool idea for fuck’s sake

what calls to me??

the only thing you can think of is a flobbering fish and your mom coming out of a phone (a tribute to yoongi)

you end up accidentally staying until the moon’s high in the sky

the waters have turned into a black oblivion and the tide’s so high, you have to shift up the rock to avoid making it look like you wet your pants

if you were a werewolf, you could draw the moon

because haha, get it? the moon calls to them!

but unfortunately, you are not a werewolf

“this sucks,” you huff

usually, you’re quick to come up with good ideas and it’s frustrating that for finals you can’t do the same

right when things actually matter

you look down from the sky to stare at your feet

maybe you’ll just stay here until you can come up with an idea

you aren’t gonna give up so soon

besides, the quiet sound of the undulating waves is so soothing

you stay a little longer, gazing at the twinkling stars and daydreaming of simpler times when your art teachers would tell you exactly what to draw without giving you vague-ass prompts to interpret

that’s when something catches your eye in the dark waters

illuminated by the starlight… you see… a…

HUMAN???

“hey!” you shriek

okay now you’re 1000% sure there’s someone in the ocean right now

they have a head of bright turquoise hair and pale but toned arms

yet the person has their back turned to you so you can’t quite see their face (though you assume they’re attractive just based on the back of their head)

“hey!” you shout again

come to think of it,,,

are they skinny dipping in the fucking ocean???

freshmen these days!! they’re nuts!

“you’re gonna die of hypothermia!” you yell. “or a shark’s gonna bite your limbs off!”

slowly

very slowly

the kid turns around

and you nearly choke on your breath

because he is beautiful

not in a conventional tiktok boy way but in a mysterious manner

his alabaster skin glows in the starlight

his turquoise-colored hair is styled perfectly on his head, just swept gracefully across his forehead

his deep sea-green eyes sparkle as he cocks his head and stares at you

oh god

he’s definitely shirtless

“h-hey!” you call again, hoping you don’t sound desperate. “what are you doing??”

the boy doesn’t answer though

he just stares at you curiously, eyes glancing back and forth at your bare legs and your shocked face

normally, you’d be creeped out if a random guy decided to check out your legs, but for some reason, the boy doesn’t stare at you like he’s a predator

he just looks… curious

you gasp when he suddenly disappears underwater

“hey!!” you shriek

damn. maybe he just wanted to be alone

no biggie

you’ll just sit on the rock or something until he decides to talk?

or you can be like any other sane person and just go back to your dorm

a sudden splash of water jumps you out of your thoughts

you nearly fall back when the strange boy stares up at you from the ledge of the rock

he’s still submerged under the water up to his shoulders, but he leans against the rock and smiles at you

it’s as if he’s saying ‘hey, loud person, who won’t shut up. how are you today? nice to meet you’

at least you think that’s what he’s trying to convey to you

“hi?” you say, raising your eyebrows. “isn’t the water cold?”

the boy shrugs his shoulders then shakes his head

he seems friendly enough that you decide to continue talking to him

he has a strange alluring aura that makes you want to get to know him

before you know it, you’re scooting closer to the stranger

he doesn’t flinch when you’re close enough to touch his strangely dry head of beautiful hair

“woah,” you deadpan. “how’s your hair dry?”

the boy shrugs again, smiling mischievously

can he even talk??

or maybe he’s just being polite and he wants you to leave

maybe he’s naked?? and he actually is a skinny dipper

and he wants you to get the hell away from him so he can get into his clothes??

“do you want me to leave…?” you ask cautiously

the boy shakes his head

ookkayyy…

“oh… it’s just that you’re not talking to me so i just thought…” you trail off, uncertain

the boy laughs and it’s the only kind of sound you’ve heard from him since you first saw him in the waters a few minutes ago

and his laugh is just like the rest of him—beautiful

the boy touches his throat with one hand and shakes his head

you frown

what?

the boy repeats the motion again and again until it finally clicks in your head

oh!!!!

“wait, you can’t speak?” you say. “i’m sorry… i didn’t know!”

the boy smiles as if saying ‘it’s all right. you’re fine’

“i haven’t seen you around campus…” you start. “do you live around here?”

the boy shakes his head

“you just like late-night swims, huh?” you giggle. “i’d swim too but something about swimming in the ocean at night is super scary for me”

the boy laughs good-heartily. he points at you curiously, then gestures at the surroundings

“oh, why am i here?” you say

the boy nods his head

“i’m just trying to get inspiration,” you say. “i’m an artist”

the boy smiles widely. he raises his eyebrows and points at you

“yes, really!” you laugh. “wanna sit on the rock with me?” you say, patting the spot next to you. “you don’t have to be stuck in the ocean to talk to me”

the boy hesitates

he looks at you through his beautiful eyes and parts his pink lips

it’s as if he’s asking, ‘can i really sit next to you?’

“i don’t bite!” you laugh. “at least, the last time i checked”

the boy giggles

he reaches out and lightly touches your hand

you’re shocked when you realize his hands aren’t wet from the water

come to think of it, you are covered in more water droplets than the boy

well

something is a bit fishy around here

you slowly look up at the boy’s face

he shrugs but a mischievous, all-knowing smile plays on his lips

“what are you, a mermaid?” you snort

the boy looks offended, placing a hand against his chest and letting out a silent scoff

“sorry. i meant merman,” you roll your eyes. “better?”

you were only half-joking

but when the boy waves what looks like a fucking tail towards you, you nearly fall back

“WAIT!” you shriek

that better be a fucking costume

the boy laughs and he swims a bit away from the rock, only to do a backflip

that’s when you see that this boy is not really a boy

he’s a mythical mermaid???

with a sparkling turquoise tail and everything?? (on a side note, you have to appreciate the way it matches his hair)

okay

well

deep breath in

deep breath out

you were never one to say that mermaids existed

but you weren’t one to say that they didn’t exist either

okay

so

either you’re still dreaming or you just kinda befriended a mermaid—er, merman

“please tell me this is real!” you squeal, scooting closer to the waters so that your knees are submerged

when you were a kid and adults asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up, you said a mermaid

as you grew older, society drilled in your head that mermaids only existed in disneyland

so that was that

until now, of course

the boy pops up from the ocean again and he hoists himself up on the rock right next to you

he’s shirtless as mermen go, but that’s the least of your interests now

his tail comes up with him and he gestures towards it, allowing you to touch the shiny scales

“it’s beautiful!” you breathe, running your hands over the surprisingly silky tail. “i better not be dreaming right now”

the boy laughs. he points at your legs curiously in response as if to say, ‘i better not be dreaming too’

“you’ve never met a human??”

the boy shakes his head. he looks at you like you’re the most special person on the planet. and it makes sense too because you’re the only human he’s probably communicated with in his life

“wow… i guess there’s a first time for everything…”

the boy nods enthusiastically

“are you even allowed to approach people?”

the boy grins as if to say, ‘mAyBe’

“poseidon or some dude with a trident’s not gonna zap me with lightning for talking to you right??”

just a safety precaution!!

the boy laughs boisterously, head thrown back and eyes squinted

“well… i guess not,” you smile

you’ve never really been friends with someone… not human…

if yoongi heard you talking about this merman, he might call the psych ward on you

or you’re just batshit crazy and you’ve been imagining this in your head

the boy points at you politely, cocking his head

“my name?”

he nods vigorously

“i’m y/n!” you tell him

‘y/n…’ he mouths with his lips but you can’t hear it

“what��s your name?”

the boy presses his lips together, then as if a light bulb went off in his head, he grins

he mouths his name to you, lips pursing and parting with exaggerated movements

you squint

“daeyoung??” you guess

the boy snorts, shaking his head

he mouths his name again but this time with more emphasis in the beginning

“ohhhh! i got it!” you say excitedly. “taeyoung!”

the merman holds up a number one and nods but shakes his head when he holds up two fingers

“the second part’s wrong??”

he nods

“uhhhhhh, tae… young… young… something that rhymes with young…”

“oh!!” you shriek, “TAEHYUNG!!”

the merman claps his hands together gleefully

“am i good or what??”

taehyung pats you on the back as if to congratulate you for figuring out his name

“thanks,” you grin. “hey do you come here often? you know, on this rocky ledge”

‘yup,’ taehyung mouths. ‘i’ve seen you before,’ he mouths slowly so you can understand him

“woah. you watched me?”

taehyung bashfully looks away

“it’s okay! it’s okay!” you say. “i just hope i wasn’t doing anything embarrassing… like picking my nose or something. i’m always alone here”

taehyung grins, wiggling his eyebrows. it’s as if he’s saying that yes, he did see you picking your nose that one time

“well it’s a human thing,” you argue. “you wouldn’t understand!”

taehyung giggles. ‘sure, sure,’ he seems like he’s saying

you huff. “in my defense, i didn’t know anyone was watching!”

taehyung gives you a look as if telling you that was the lamest excuse ever

“whatever, tae,” you scoff. “i’m just flattered that you thought i looked interesting in the first place”

the merman grins wildly, making it quite obvious he likes the new nickname you had given him. he shrugs his shoulders and pokes your arm playfully. ‘friend!’ he mouths enthusiastically

“you wanna be my friend?”

taehyung rapidly nods his head

“hmmMm…” you pretend to think. “i’m a bit swamped with friends at the moment…” you fib. in reality, you only have like two best friends (yoongi and yoongi’s bestie, hoseok). but it doesn’t hurt to lie a little to tease tae

the merman’s lips pull down in a slight frown

but you snort and slap his bare shoulder

“kidding!” you giggle. “why would i say no to being your friend?”

taehyung rolls his eyes but he grins happily. he looks at you expectantly, almost as if he’s asking when he can see you next time

damn

you’re starting to get the hang of reading taehyung’s expressions

“when can you see me next time?” you ask

taehyung nods

“well… finals are coming up… i reckon you don’t have mermaid school or whatever?”

taehyung shakes his head, grinning. ‘no school!’

“lucky,” you sigh. “but fuck finals!” you pump your fist in the air. “i’ll see you tomorrow!”

‘same time?’ taehyung inquires

“sure!”

the two of you shake hands to seal the deal

you would’ve spent hours on end talking to taehyung but he’s the one who points to the direction of the beach and mouths ‘you should sleep’

“i don’t need sleep!” you declare but unfortunately, that follows with an embarrassing yawn

taehyung gives you the look

“okay… maybe i do need sleep…”

taehyung giggles. he pushes your shoulder slightly, nudging you away from him

“and i can visit you tomorrow…” you reason

taehyung nods

“so maybe i should get sleep”

‘that’s it!” the merman laughs

so you say your lasting goodbyes and watch as taehyung dives away from the rock

when he’s gone, shining tail and all, you’re left dazed and confused

maybe you’ve been hallucinating???

welp

if you were hallucinating, you’ll figure it out tomorrow when a cute merman doesn’t come to meet you at night

for now, you just need sleep to digest everything that had just happened

okay

so

you just woke up

and now you’re more unsure than ever that this… taehyung exists

what if you were so stressed out yesterday

that you were literally… seeings things

yoongi keeps asking you if you’re okay because you spaced out TEN times in ONE conversation

you keep trying to convince him that you’re fine

but yoongi knows you so well that he knows you’re definitely NOT fine

“i’m just tired!!” you tell your best friend

yoongi sCOFFS “so am i but you don’t see me spacing out like i saw a unicorn last night”

eRrrr…

how do you tell yoongi that technically you did see something like a unicorn last night???

well

you won’t

because yoongi is a no-nonsense-old-fashioned-traditional-by-the-textbook-chemical-engineering-loving-student

he would never believe you

“wEll i’m sensitive!” you protest, crossing yours arms. “plus i’m still stressed about my art final”

“i thought you went to the beach to get inspiration!” yoongi points out

“errrrr…” you scratch your head. “i got distracted”

yoongi sighs. “aRt mAjOrs”

“excuse me, how dAre you???”

but yoongi just laughs it off, patting you on the back before announcing that he had to go study for his finals

you should be studying for your other finals too

but you end up doodling all over your notes

doodles of tAeHyuNg

every ten minutes, you force yourself to sTOP doodling to actually read your notes

but it never works

by night time, you’ve gotten nowhere

oh well

now you can go meet taehyung!!

if he exists…

what if your brain was actually playing games on you??

regardless, you swallow all sense of doubt and march out to the ocean

the beach is completely empty and you make use of the privacy, skipping along the sand and towards the rocky ledge

and sure enough, there’s no one there

hMph

okay

maybe taehyung’s late

no, wait you’re early

so you’re gonna wait for the merman

and if he doesn’t come in… ten minutes, you’ll just leave and deem yourself absolutely bonkers

waiting is really boring

you keep thinking at least five minutes passed every time you look at your phone for the time

but, in reality, it’s always been less than forty seconds

you go back and forth between looking at the time to looking at the dark waters

FOR FIVE WHOLE MINUTES

you’re starting to get ANTSY

and doubt starts to settle in

if yoongi knew what you were doing right now, he’d laugh at you

oh god…

should you just… leave?

THAT’S when you see a familiar bob of turquoise hair in the waters

you let out a little shriek, scooting closer to the edge of the rock

“taehyung??” you call out

the figure leaps in the air like a gracious dolphin and dives back down into the opaque waters

two seconds later, the familiar merman leans against the rocky ledge and grins up at you

‘hey,’ he seems to say with his sparkling eyes. ‘missed me?’

“UM, YES!” you say. “i was starting to think i was going crazy”

taehyung chuckles deeply, the sound reverberating against the calm ocean waves

“i was worried you wouldn’t be here”

taehyung raises his eyebrows as if to say, ‘why wouldn’t i be here??’

“i don’t know! self doubt? maybe you have some underground castle you wanna hang around with your friends and family rather than come up to the surface to hang with me!”

taehyung shakes his head, laughing. he points to himself and mouths the word, ‘solo’

“really?” you raise your eyebrows. “no family or friends?”

taehyung nods. ‘SOLO!’ he declares silently, grinning

“are all merfolk like that??”

the merman shrugs. ‘never seen another’

“oh gosh, you must be lonely,” you say. “here.” you pat the place next to you. “sit on the rock with me”

taehyung obliges but he protests he’s not lonely by shaking his head

“what do you do by yourself all the time, then?”

taehyung grins mischievously

out of the corner of your eye, you see bubbles of water rising up from the surface of the waves. you gasp as they begin to float in the air

“bubbles!” you reach out to pop one, laughing when the remnants of the water splash against your cheek

the merman nudges you as if to say, ‘but wait! there’s more!’

the next thing you know, a huge floating water bubble splashes above your head, drenching you from head to toe

“vEry funny!” you scoff, trying to shake the water off yourself

taehyung gives you another one of his cheeky grins. ‘sorry,’ he mouths, but he does not look apologetic at all

‘but look! i can dry it!’

he waves his fingers at you and instantly, your sopping wet hair and clothes are dried. there’s even a ocean breeze smell that lingers on you now

“do you go around splashing people with water bubbles and drying them right after?” you accuse taehyung teasingly

he laughs boisterously, shrugging his shoulders. ‘mAybE’ is his answer

“you spend a lot of time on the surface, huh?”

taehyung shrugs. ‘maybe’

“not much of a fish dude?”

‘they’re creepy,’ taehyung answers

you howl with laughter. “and scary! like sharks, viperfish, hatchetfish… oh god,” you shiver. “i hate them. i can’t swim in the ocean. and i know most of the scary-looking ones don’t even live in the same ocean zone”

taehyung pokes at you. ‘scaredy-cat,’ he mouths

“am not!! how are you creeped out by fish when you’re half fish??”

taehyung scoffs. ‘my tail…’ he gestures majestically at his sparkling tail, ‘is not a fish tail’

“sure… fishboy”

taehyung raises his eyebrows and raises his hand as if to threaten to splash you with a water bubble again

“i was only joking”

taehyung laughs, poking at you then pointing to the waters. ‘wanna swim, though?’

“are you serious? i just told you i’m terrified!”

taehyung pouts, his pink lips pulling down into a sad frown

“that’s not gonna make me change my mind, tae”

‘just for a little bit!’ he protests

“i don’t even have my goggles, i can’t swim without them! and i’m not going in water that’s pitch black”

taehyung sighs. ‘fine!’

“i’m really good at swimming in the pool though,” you say. “i mean, they used to call me a mermaid. because i was really good at dolphin kicking. but then i watched a few underwater documentaries… and nope. never again. i am not going in the same waters that goblin sharks live in”

to your surprise, taehyung teasingly pokes your cheek. ‘cute,’ he mouths. ‘scaredy-cat,’ he adds

“show anyone a goblin shark and they wouldn’t be able to get in the water for a year!” you huff in response

‘never seen one,’ tae sings—if you could hear him, you imagine his voice would sound as soft as lavender with just a drizzle of rich honey

“doesn’t mean they don’t exist!” you argue. “maybe one day i’ll swim with you. but definitely not today”

technically, you just met the man—er, merman

you’re not so sure if you can trust him to console you of your great fear of the ocean

maybe once you get to know him a little better

you see

you’re very quick to make friends

you probably have a lot of acquaintances

they all know your name and you know theirs

but you probably could not name three facts about any of them. and they probably couldn’t think of three facts about you either

so yes, you tend to have shallow relationships with many

but if you find people you like, you cling to them

like yoongi and hoseok

you just hope taehyung won’t be one of your acquaintances

he better be one of your best friends

how cool is it to say your best friend is a merman????

very cool

‘cool’ is just not a word to describe you as yoongi often likes to point out

but you’ll show him

you visit taehyung every day

for seven days

it’s been a full week

finals is closer than ever

you have like… five days to get your art final done

and you still haven’t gotten an idea

yikes

okay well you have an excuse

actually, you have excuses. plural.

because 1) you’ve forced yourself to fOrget about finals and 2) taehyung is wAy more interesting than any final you will ever take in your life

besides, all the time you spend on the beach is absolutely worth it

you and taehyung sometimes even meet before night falls, just before the sun’s setting so the two of you can prank the seagulls

(tae hates those little monsters-with-wings so he enjoys it a whole lot to dump water bubbles on their heads)

you help him prank the stupid birds by giving him moral support! that includes cheering him on when he successfully attacks an unsuspecting seagull and feeding him some cookies from your school cafeteria to keep him well-nourished

taehyung loves human food

he says he has to live off of clams and seaweed

which, isn’t all that bad (you love salted seaweed chips and clams), but imagine having a diet solely composed of seafood

yuck

so you bake kale chips for tae one day (nearly burning down the communal kitchen) and he enjoys it so much, for five days, you bring all sorts of good human food for him

by the end of the week, taehyung’s put on some pounds

you think he looks even more adorable with a bit of meat on his bones

taehyung just complains that his abs are starting to disappear

so one day, you bring a yoga mat and the two of you do some ab exercises off of youtube

of course, that led taehyung down the youtube rabbit hole

and once down that rabbit hole, it is very hard to resurface

after tae got ahold of gordon ramsay’s youtube channel, it’s all he watches when you come to the beach

in the end, you have to ban him from youtube because he almost took your phone underwater when you tried to get him to stop drooling over gordon ramsay and his incredible cooking skills

but taehyung prefers talking to you over watching youtube

at least you think

you hope

there is never a day you meet taehyung and it isn’t eventful

there’s always something to do with the fun-loving merman!

which makes it very, very easy to lose sight of iMporTAnt things… like, uh finals

so, today, five days before your art final is due, yoongi sits you down on your desk chair and sighs. “have you figured out your art final yet?”

it is a question that catches you off guard

“er… no”

“iSn’t it due in FIVE days???” yoongi shakes his head disapprovingly at you. “c’mon, y/n, don’t some artists take over a week to finish a painting??”

“well i can take uh, three days without sleeping if it really comes to that”

yoongi sighs. “you’ve been going to the beach every day. still no inspiration?”

“err… i got… distracted”

“do you want me to come with you today or something? so i can whip you back into shape and make sure you get properly inspired?” yoongi offers

“no!” you shout

yoongi raises his eyebrows

“i mean, um, no thank you, yoongs,” you stand up and pat yoongi’s head

he scowls at you

“i’ve got it all figured out!” you tell him very convincingly

but it is a lie

“rEally?” yoongi raises his eyebrows at you

“yes. don’t you worry, my friend.” you pat his head again

yoongi rolls his eyes. “okay, well, worse comes to worst, you can always use my terrific idea”

“never in a million years”

“oh well. wanna skip the beach today? i’m inviting hoseok over to watch a movie. you can come too, if you want”

“no can do,” you say, shaking your head. “i’m going swimming!” you hang your swim goggles in front of yoongi’s face

“in the dark?? in the ocean?? i thought you were afraid of gobbler sharks!”

“goblin sharks. not gobbler. and no. not anymore. i trust the waters now”

er, or, you trust taehyung

he’s been trying to convince you every day to swim with him

and every day you declined or made up some stupid excuse

but today is the day you will accept

you even prepared by wearing a bathing suit under your clothes

and you’re gonna bring your swim goggles

you’re so ready!!

you trust that taehyung won’t let the fish get to you

he promised and swore on his own beautiful tail

so he can’t possibly be lying

“oOokAyyyy…” yoongi says, giving you a strange look. “if you drown, can i have your comforter?”

“oh, shut up. i’m not gonna drown”

“sure”

you huff. “whatever, yoongs. have fun watching that movie with hoseok. i’m gonna get going”

“i will. just don’t drown or something”

“i won’t”

five minutes later, you’re terrified you’re going to drown

as you walk across the beach, you worry that you’re only walking to your death

what if you actually drown???

and taehyung can’t save you because the water’s so dark, he can’t even see you???

what if a jellyfish comes out of nOwHerE and stings you so hard you’re gonna be paralyzed forever????????

EVEN WORSE

WHAT IF THERE’S A GOBLIN SHARK OUT OF ITS HABITAT

WHAT IF IT BITES YOUR LEGS OFF????

ohmygod

you think you might die

taehyung’s waiting for you on the rocky ledge as he always does

but today, he has a shit-eating grin on his face

he looks at your goggles and nods. ‘today’s the day!!’

you grumble. “this is not helping my stress”

taehyung cocks his head

“i’m stressed because of college, tae. lucky you. you wouldn’t understand”

the handsome merman snorts. ‘i wouldn’t’

he pokes at you as if to say, ‘tell me what’s wrong’

you sigh, plopping yourself down on the rock and looking down at your feet

“i have a really important painting i have to finish in five days…” you groan. “and my professor gave me an art prompt, you know, something i need to interpret and draw. but i can’t, for the life of me, figure out what i wanna paint”

‘hMmm,’ taehyung hums. ‘what’s the prompt?’ he mouths

“what calls to me”

‘what calls to you?’

“ugh. yeah. horribly vague, isn’t it? my friend suggested i draw my mother coming out of a phone”

taehyung cocks his head, curiously

“yeah, it’s stupid. so i’m stuck. and the final’s due in five days. but i was totally forgetting about it until yoongi decided to bring it up. and now i’m stressed”

the merman giggles

“this isn’t funny!!” you protest

but the merman giggles again

when you give him a disdainful look, taehyung dives into the ocean and pops his head out, waving at you to come in

you sigh, staring at your goggles. reluctantly, you put them on

once you strip down to your swimsuit, you stare hesitantly at the opaque ocean. you crouch down just before the water, contemplating and contemplating

suddenly, something grabs your arm and you’re tugged into the ocean

you sCreAm bloody murder and voila, now salt and fish feces water is up your noise

how wonderful

but two strong hands hold your waist and you’re able to resurface

the water’s cold, but not freezing cold at least. and taehyung’s actually really warm against your skin

“you fucking dragged me in!!!” you shriek after coughing the water out of your lungs

you hit tae’s bare chest in agitation

the little shit just shrugs and grins at you

you huff, wrapping your legs tightly around taehyung’s hips. “if you let me go, my friends are going to find you and roast you. literally”

taehyung chuckles. ‘i won’t let you go,’ he seems to tell you with a meaningful look on his face

“you better not!” you tell him

he laughs at you, softly touching your forehead with the back of his hand. instantly, you feel much, much warmer. even cozier in the supposedly freezing waters

even the water weighing down the hair on your head feels lighter. when you reach out to touch it, you realize it’s completely dry

“woah,” you breathe. “that’s so cool…”

you forget that you’re even supposed to be mad at the merman

taehyung grins at you, petting your hair. ‘i know, right?’ he seems to say with his twinkling eyes

he motions at you to take your goggles off

“what?? are you crazy? i can’t survive without these! i am not opening my eyes in salt water, tae”

the merman shakes his head, laughing. ‘it won’t sting your eyes’

“why? did you put a magical charm on me or something?”

taehyung shrugs. ‘mAyBe’

you sigh, skeptical

‘i’m trying to help,’ tae mouths. ‘it’s for your art final’

you raise your eyebrows doubtfully

‘i’m serious’

“why, is there something cool underwater?”

taehyung nods. ‘you need your eyes open’

you wrap your legs tighter around the merman. “so… you’re gonna show me… something underwater… that will help me with my art final??”

the merman nods enthusiastically

he ruffles your hair and pinches your cheek. ‘trust me’

ohhHHhhh if you didn’t trust him, you wouldn’t be clinging onto him for life right now

“promise you won’t let me go??”

‘promise’

you hold out your pinky for taehyung

he cocks his head. ‘what is that for?’

“pinky promise??”

‘hmm?’

oh man

that might just be a human thing

silly you

“oH uh, nEver mInd th—”

you try to retract your pinky but taehyung stops you

he slowly pulls up his own hand, his pinky jutting out awkwardly

‘like this?’ he questions, poking at your pinky with his

you have to stifle a laUgh

“um, not quite,” you say. “you have to wrap your pinky around mine. yeahh, like that. and then it’s a pinky promise! it’s practically illegal to break a pinky promise”

taehyung nods. ‘i won’t break it’

“okay good! uh…” you look warily at the dark waters. “what is it that you wanted to show me?”

taehyung grins. suddenly, you’re submerged underwater again and you let out a scream

but you can’t hear yourself

not because you’re choking on the water, no

it seems like… you can breathe????? UNDER THE WATER????

you hug taehyung tighter and try to scream at him to stop plunging you in the ocean without a warning

but no sound comes out of your lips

‘taehyung!” you shriek soundlessly

“open your eyes, y/n…” a deep, resonate voice tells you

you nearly gasp in shock

was that… was that taehyung’s voice? his speaking voice????????

“it’s okay… you’re protected under a charm,” his mellifluous tone soothes you. “you’re able to breathe underwater, y/n. but you won’t be able to speak.” he laughs, which sounds very familiar to your ears. “how the tables have turned!”

‘taehyung!!!’

“how good it feels to finally speak to you!!” taehyung laughs. “you don’t have to hold me in a vice grip anymore,” he snorts. “i won’t let you go. we pinky promised, remember?”

you groan in your head. ‘i-i can’t. i can’t do it, tae’

“aww, y/n…” you hear taehyung softly pet your hair. “take your time”

‘i can’t open my eyes. i-i’m sorry’

you can see the blackness through your eyelids. and there is no way in hell you’re going to open them

fine, you trust taehyung. and sure, the water may not sting your eyes

and on top of all that, you can fucking breathe underwater thanks to tae, but no

you’re still scared

you’re scared of what you’re gonna see

or what you won’t see because the ocean is probably pitch black

you just try to focus on taehyung’s beautiful, deep voice. it seems to reverberate through the ocean waves even after the sound hits your ears

“it’s okay,” he says. “don’t be sorry.” he holds you tighter against his bare chest. “you don’t have to see what i wanna show you anyway”

you make a confused grunt sound in the back of your throat

“you can hear it”

‘what???’

but of course taehyung can’t hear you. nor can he see you with your chin resting on his shoulder

“what calls to you, huh?” taehyung says in his syrupy voice. “i have a good idea”

then, to your utmost shock, he begins to sing

“where the sea breeze whispers

past your listening ears

and gently caresses your lips

there lies a great ocean

the waves undulate under the dark sky

under these waters

is a lonely merman

he longs, waits for a friend

a lover,

anyone who will save him

from his solitude

where the sea breeze whispers

where the great ocean lies

where the waves undulate under the dark sky

where the lonely merman waits

under these dark waters”

your insides melt

taehyung’s honey voice entrances you and you squeeze you eyes shut even tighter

a rush of inspiration washes over you

you shiver

oh god

you didn’t have to open your eyes after all

you don’t have to see it to feel the immense amount of emotion, love, sincerity interwoven to taehyung’s song

it’s the most beautiful music you’ve heard in your life

and it pains you that taehyung’s stopped singing

you’re speechless, pulling away from taehyung so he can read your lips. ‘that… that was so beautiful…’

“thanks,” taehyung chuckles deeply. “i sing that song a lot when i’m bored”

‘your voice…’

“i know. too bad i can only sing underwater, right? if i could do this on the surface, i’d serenade you all day every day”

‘i’ll come underwater with you,’ you mouth before you can stop yourself

then you pause

well

you suppose being underwater isn’t so bad

it’s just dark since your eyes are closed

but you’re warm in taehyung’s arms

and you can even breathe too

if you can hear taehyung’s voice and hear him sing, then surely, that is a tiny sacrifice you can make

“you’re gonna come underwater with me?? again??” taehyung seems in disbelief. “you already seem uncomfortable now!”

‘no i’m not!’

and to prove it, you force your eyes open

immediately, you’re so taken aback, your grip on taehyung loosens

the merman catches you before you slip away

‘o-oh…’ you breathe

the ocean is not as dark as you had imagined it

in fact, there is a halo-like light that surrounds taehyung

it illuminates his face, his hair, his whole body

he is like a walking—er, swimming—star

the light shines further out into the dark seas, making the water sparkle

‘oh…’ you breathe again

“nothing to be scared about right?” taehyung snorts. “scaredy-cat”

he bops you on the nose

you’re so in awe, you don’t even mind

“are you inspired now?”

oh!! right!! your art final!!

you were almost distracted again (even after taehyung just dangled the answer in front of your face!!)

RIGHT!

TAEHYUNG JUST HELPED YOU SOLVE YOUR ART FINAL FIASCO PROBLEM

YOU’RE SO INSPIRED YOU COULD PAINT FOURTEEN HUNDRED PAINTINGS RIGHT NOW

your fingers feel tingly

and your head whirls with ideas

taehyung’s voice, his song, his whole being…

it calls to you

omg

he just saved your ass

in one single song!!!

‘god, i’m so happy i could kiss you!’

and you’re not even joking

“kiss me??” taehyung seems taken aback, but he grins. “kiss?”

the way he seems curious about it, you’re not quite sure he even knows what that is

‘do you… do uh, merfolk kiss?’ you ask cautiously

taehyung smiles. “let’s find out”

his eyes sparkle as both of you begin to lean into each other

you take it slowly, admiring his alabaster skin, pink cheeks and rosy lips

he stares into your eyes and gently tucks your hair behind your ear

right before you move in to kiss his lips, he leans in to rest his forehead against yours

taehyung’s eyes flutter close and he sighs as you stay still in his arms, confused

but you decide to go with the flow, keeping your foreheads together as you close your eyes too

it’s an intimate moment

you, resting your forehead against his while under the same ocean you were once so scared of

you, feeling emotionally attached to a merman

you, dreaming of kissing taehyung. properly. you know, on the lips and whatnot

when taehyung finally pulls away, he grins

“wasn’t that a nice kiss?” he whispers, touching your cheeks and giggling just at the thought of it

yikes

how do you break it to him

that forehead touching is not really… the kissing you were thinking of

‘well…’ you giggle. ‘in the human world… um…’

“in the human world…?”

‘we kiss with our lips’

“oh!” taehyung exclaims. he scratches his head. ��lips????”

‘like this!’

with that, you tug him into a kiss. a proper one this time

he melts in your arms, sighing as he leans forward and instinctively closes his eyes

you let yourself relax too

and god what the fuck

his lips feel so soft

is there a special ocean chapstick he uses???

does he use some special sand as a lip scrub??????

and even though he probably hasn’t kissed the human way before,,,

man he knows what he’s doing

it makes you think for a hot second

damn

you’re making out with a merman

… under the sea

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

this is what your life has become

and honestly, you can’t complain

taehyung’s the first to pull away, panting slowly. “i didn’t think my breath could ever be taken away,” he grins cheesily

‘you’re welcome,’ you grin back, slightly breathless yourself

“so… now that i’ve given you amazing inspiration… don’t you need to write it down somewhere?”

‘oh!’ you gasp. ‘right!’

you need to get started on painting as soon as possible!!! you can’t ever forget the feeling of taehyung… singing for you. but something about painting it when the memory’s fresh promises the best results

what calls to you…

you smile

a goddamn merman!!

literally

you’re so gonna ace this art final

you paint nonstop for four days

although you want to, you can’t even visit the beach

because you absolutely HATE it when your workflow is stopped

so you have to keep on painting until you finish

you force yoongi to go out on the beach and lay some cookies on your special rocky ledge. he frowns at your strange directions

“i dOn’T thInK yOu sHouLd fEeD tHe sEaGuLlS, y/N. iT’s gOnNa iNtErRuPt tHe eCoLoGicAl bAlaNce,” yoongi says very knowledgeably

oh god

you tell him to shut up

he pats your head and walks out toward the beach with the cookies

at least he doesn’t ask questions

you just hope taehyung takes the cookies as an apology

you don’t want him to think after you kissed him, you ditched him!! you’re just busy with your art final!!!

so you also make yoongi sneak in a note and a slice of cake the next time

except yoongi comes back in ten minutes and aSks: “WHO’S TAEHYUNG???”

you gulp

but you pretend you can’t hear yoongi as you continue painting on your canvas

the perfect, bright turquoise color was very hard to recreate with paints, but you somehow managed. you just need to add some finishing touches and your beautiful painting of your merman friend will be finished

you know yoongi secretly admires your art skills, but he laUghs when he sees you painting a merman

“is that a siren???”

“no—”

“a mermaid, then?”

“a merman,” you say. “and he’s singing the most beautiful song in the history of songs”

yoongi laughs. “sure, sure. looks nice, though.” he steps closer to the canvas. “really like what you did with his facial structure or whatever. and his hair color. pretty tail too. i did not know you had the capacity to imagine that hard”

you huff. well, technically… you didn’t imagine that. but you’re not going to admit it with yoongi

“i’m more talented than you think,” you snort, stretching back and picking at the paint dried to your fingers. “if i close my eyes, i can almost hear him sing to me”

“um, i think you fell in love with your own painting,” yoongi snorts

“oh, leave me alone”

yoongi raises up two hands in defense. “okay, well, the final’s due tomorrow, right? are you done?”

“well…” technically, yes. but… “i’m gonna go to the beach”

“wait a minute, with your painting??? dude, what if a seagull snatches it away? what if the paint chips? leave your painting! that’s your final”

“i’ll be careful!”

“your idea of careful is reckless”

you sigh. “well, i’ll be extra careful!”

yoongi can’t argue with you after that. 1) because he knows you’re stubborn and won’t give up and 2) because when you say you’re gonna be extra with anything, you go all out

you take nearly twenty minutes getting to the beach because you walk very slowly with your painting in both hands. you hold the painting above your head so sand won’t fly onto it

and you check out for those nasty seagulls because sometimes they decide to shit on people’s heads

if they decide it’s a good day to shit on your final, it’s over

nevertheless, you need to show your masterpiece to taehyung

when you get to the rocky ledge, you call for the merman

in just a few seconds, taehyung pops up his head from under the water

“were you waiting for me?” you laugh. “did you get the cookies and cake i sent?”

taehyung nods, grinning as he begins to swim toward you. he points curiously at the canvas in your hands

“it’s my art final,” you explain to him. you turn it around so taehyung can see it

he gasps

‘that’s me???’

“yup”

‘you didn’t draw my abs!!’

“well, can’t draw what you don’t have,” you giggle, teasing the pouting merman. he huffs

‘i like it, though’

“reallY??” you gush. “that’s all i wanted to hear!!”

you set the painting down carefully to the side and scoot closer to the rocky ledge

taehyung rests his hand on your forehead before cupping your cheek. he grins before cocking his eyebrows and pulling your head underwater

‘taehyung!!!’ you shriek

“i just wanted to tell you how beautifully you drew me,” taehyung laughs, booping your nose. “i mean, i’m much, much better looking in real life, but the colors. you’re very talented, y/n”

you smile. ‘well, i did try really har—”

taehyung interrupts you by kissing you. he misses your lips the first time and gets the corner of your mouth, but the second time, his lips meet yours perfectly

the heavenly moment would’ve lasted wayyy longer if it weren’t for the:

“Y/N, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STICKING YOUR HEAD IN THE WATER???”

you let out a silent shriek and taehyung’s eyes widen. both of you break apart from the kiss and taehyung suddenly dives deep down into the ocean

and right when the merman is out of your range, you can’t breathe nor see clearly in the ocean anymore

when you get your head out of the waters, you’re a choking, coughing mess

you wipe away the droplets of water streaming down your face before you look up to see yoongi

“are you bobbing for fish in the ocean?” yoongi snorts. “for fuck’s sake, y/n, you can’t just leave your art final around like this!”

your best friend picks up your precious painting of taehyung and sighs. “what were you doing?”

“i, uh…” you touch your lips. “i was… uh… i dropped my ring in the water”

yoongi narrows his eyes. “you don’t even wear jewelry”

“okay fine. i was just trying to meet the merman of my dreams underwater”

at that, yoongi raises his eyebrows. “cool,” he says

“cool??” is that all he had to say?

“well, yeah. mermaids are cool”

“merman”

“whatever”

yoongi’s so chill with it that you’re unchill

“are you sure??” you say.

“am i sure that it’s whatever?” yoongi snorts. “yes? c’mon, let’s go watch a ocean life documentary with hoseok or something. finals is gonna be over soon, so we should celebrate starting now”

hm

okay well

cool

this is chill then

yoongi is chill

you suspect he doesn’t believe you, even though you told him the truth

you could probably tell him that you kissed taehyung, a merman, but he would probably laugh it off

your best friend is quite strange. no-nonsense. sensible. rational.

but you love those things about him

yoongi helps you carry your art final back to the dorms. but just before you step off the rocky ledge, you turn around

taehyung’s waving at you very discreetly, so you smile and wave back

yoongi never notices a single thing

welp

it’s over now

finals is over

which means,,, IT’S BEACH TIME

unfortunately, everyone in the whole fucking school think’s it’s beach time too

even late at night, there are still a few idiots on the beach drinking the last of the beer they stashed away

it’s hard to meet taehyung just because the lack of privacy

you wait and wait and wait on the rocky ledge, but you know, with so many people, taehyung probably wouldn’t want to come out of hiding

it’s one thing for a merman to trust one girl

it’s another for a merman to trust fifty rowdy college students

but you have a feeling taehyung is always close by

you visit the rocky ledge every day, singing some of your own little songs (though you’re not a very good singer, you try)

you even talk to taehyung like he’s there, listening to you

but it starts to get lonely

there are so many people on the beach, but the one being you want isn’t here

you sigh, wiggling your toes that have become pruned due to the salty water. “i never thought i’d be saying this,” you say. “but i miss finals week”

taehyung would have laughed if he was with you now

god, you miss him

“or maybe you’re in the water right now, waiting for me to jump in…”

you sigh again. “or maybe you’ve migrated or something. do you even have to migrate? i have no idea…” you trail off, looking at the blue waters lapping at the sides of the rock

cautiously, you dip one foot in

the water’s cool, but not completely freezing

you dip the other foot in

okay

you can do this

you’ll just…

jump in

and if taehyung’s not underwater, you’ll just… leave for the day

you’re supposed to hang out at a computer cafe with yoongi and hoseok anyway

okay deep breath in

deep breath out

goblin sharks don’t even live near the shallow part of the ocean… right?????

so you’re safe, right????

unless there’s a lemon shark or something

oh fucking god

you shouldn’t have watched that ocean documentary with your friends

but the need to see taehyung surpasses everything

you close your eyes

pinch your nose with your fingers

and you JUMP

and immediately you gasp because fuck the water’s cold

lowkey, your heart nearly stops because of the sudden rush of cool water surrounding your whole body

and right when you think you should swim back to the surface, a pair of strong arms hold you, and a soft hand taps at your forehead

“hello, you”

‘TAEHYUNG!’ you open your eyes and see your favorite merman staring at you

“the beach is crowded these days, isn’t it?” he grins

‘i know! pesky people!’

taehyung laughs. “i made another song while you were gone. nice singing, by the way. i heard you a couple days ago”

you flush. ‘i can’t sing! but um, can i hear your new song?’

taehyung nods, clearing his throat

he holds your hands to his chest and begins to sing

“where the sea breeze whispers

past your waiting ears

and gently kisses your lips

there lies a beautiful ocean

the waves ripple beneath the awakened sky

under these waters

is a happy merman

he’s found his friend,

his lover,

his treasure that has saved him

from his solitude

where the sea breeze whispers

where the beautiful ocean rests

where the waters ripple beneath the awakened sky

where the happy merman lives

under these sparkling waters”

‘you changed the lyrics!!’

taehyung nods. “i think it’s much more fitting, don’t you think?”

the two of your resurface from the waters, gripping each other tightly

your hair is completely dry and it blows in the light breeze

the sunlight warms your face and turns taehyung’s cheeks even rosier

oh god

your heart skips a beat

but you try to calm down before you wrap your arms around taehyung’s neck and pull him close

the moment your forehead touches his, you close your eyes and it feels like there’s nothing else in the ocean, on the beach, except you and taehyung

the two of you may never speak out loud in the same place as you’re kept silent in the ocean and taehyung’s kept silent on land

but...

sometimes, you don’t even need words

gazes, actions, little touches here and there

they speak in louder volume than words

you don’t even have to say you love taehyung. he doesn’t have to say it either

it’s as if both of your hearts, your actions proved it

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