#but tragedy calls to me like a siren

[introspectivememories]

More about your last post I wanna know on how everyone reacts to eachother like imagine your friend finally is out of a pain cult that you had to sit around and watch as it literally ruins them but they had to be sacrifice and your local hero’s had to step to help them and then all of sudden when you go to the hospital you see TIM DRAKE straggling to fill out the most simplest questions

“TIM DRAKE!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE???”

“…what’s his blood type?”

AKSDHJSKAHDHAS I FUCKING LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY FICS

okay so! some background information, it is my personal hc that bear fell into the cult, senior year of high school. so when tim rescues, he's been in there for like 5 years. it just doesn't make sense to me otherwise? like they chose him for the sacrifice. it wasn't like "oh he's convenient. might as well use him." they specifically interrupted his date-but-not-really-a-date with tim to get to him. like they thought he would be a worthy sacrifice to bring down the attention of dionysus. like he had to have been their most devoted member or something.

the gang meets him in their freshman year of college where mori, jam, and bear all end up getting an apartment together bc the landlord leased it out to three different people and they all responded. dija and chinna are their next door neighbors. anyway, they all become friends bc they all go to gotham u together.

i think mori and jam always knew there was smth wrong with bear. he's always kinda lost in his head, he disappears at odd hours of the day, when he talks to you he never directly stares at you but to the side of you like there's someone there. and as they grow closer, obviously the truth comes out near the end of freshman year.

and as college goes on, everyone learns his backstory and his sordid history with tim. needless to say, bear is like your dad who drops absolutely horrifying Dad Lore at random times and the gang is left to red-string-cork-board it together. they could be at a cafe near uni and bear randomly would be like "i tried to give my dead best friend chest compressions for like 30 minutes bc i refused to believe she was dead." cue the gang going, ".... do you, maybe, wanna unpack that?" / "no." / "oh. ok"

background info out of the way, the gang despises tim drake. how could they not? when they see the way bear has deteriorated after junior year? when they stumble across a photo of the grieves trio and wonder where that bright smile of bear's had gone? how could they not, when all of them have had to talk bear out of a hallucination? how could they not when bear comes back each night with more and more scars? when they've all walked in on him bleeding out? when all bear talks about is being chosen? when it's starting to look like this cult is going to take their friend from them?

and then, 4 years after they met bear, they get a call from hospital telling them that their brother is in the icu. and when they finally arrive at the hospital, tim drake is sitting in the waiting room, struggling to fill out basic information about his so-called "best friend".

fuck tim drake.

[seedlessmuffins]

.

[cutieeva]

Love of immortal

Female reader

Warnings : Kidnap. Minor injuries. Molestation. Mention of rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Mermaids, sirens and more mystic creatures belongs to myth but more importantly came from ocean adding another layer of mystery to the ocean than it was already to (Y/N) who dislike oceans for petty reasons but it was the creature lurking under the ocean who consume her in the end.

Ocean. For some it's the peace of water that calms and erase their hard version of reality while for others a symbol of nightmare where tragic acts occur to horror them however (Y/N) somehow falls on the between of category. She neither has love or horror nor despise rather she merely dislike the ocean. Why ? Any actions or tragedy ? None rather she doesn't perceive ocean safe only because it is a mystery itself. She often find herself comparing abyss and ocean because neither of it has any predict of dept and once stare too much it can consume you. She pretty much fears the mystery lurking underneath the picturesque waters when bleamed by the golden rays from above the skies.

However who would ever predict that (Y/N) one day will be sitting on a cabin cruiser boat along side her older brother's family.

"Aunty ! Aunty ! Look at the gold fishes !" Her adorable five aged nephew cheerfully point at the little fishes swimming their ways.

"Yea, Yea". Her shoulders shrug glancing at the pretty ocean creatures yet a unknown shivers tense her spine just staring at the dept of water. An alarm inkling creep within her stomach making her (E/C) eyes avert to the lovey dovey couple.

"They pretty much brought me because they wanted a free babysitter. I am sure". Irritated she scoff earning her brother's attention.

"What ? Stop being so bitter just because you had to come in place of dad and mom". She rolled her eyes remembering how heartlessly they are traveling around the earth together leading them to turn down their son's invitation to the cabin cruiser boat he was offered by the company due to his excellence performance however they are family of three and they wanted no outsider to invade their holiday where they are free to be themselves and enjoy the blessed time choosing (Y/N) who is single, on her holiday and have nothing better to do. She was a substitute to her parent's place and abducted from the safety of her four wall she calls home by her brother only to watch their public affection and monitor their child.

"Shut up before I fucking cut your throat". Not holding back she cursed after placing her hands over the innocent boy's ears. Her brother, Anton click his tongue in annoyance while his wife, Maria who (Y/N) very much have connection alike an sister chuckles.

"You know I married you for your sister's company ?" She teased making her husband's mouth agap and catch her waist only for her to slip through his hands and playfully step back.

"What the ?" He tried to catch again only to lose turning it into a cat and mouse catching game where the couple laughed heartily.

"Ren want to ! Ren wants to play too ! Ren wants to play too !" Her nephew adressed himself as third person join to play the game too chasing his father. The scene evolving in front of (Y/N) won a laughter over her lips. The adorable family stare at her melody like laugh unable to seal their happiness too. Transformating the distant air to mellow unaware that caught the eyes of an mystic.

"How about I also catch aunty ?" In playful tone her brother presented went towards her to catch which ended him with a punch on his face.

"Don't". She snort watching his face twist into deep frown.

"How cruel". He commented

"Look who's talking". She remarked.

"Wifey, I am wounded. Please help me". Faux a sad tone he layed on his wife's embrace curling himself small when in (Y/N)'s view he looked like an bear trying to fit on top of an human.

"Yikes ! What a rubbish".

"Ouch ! Wound me again".

"Eww". Regret lace her voice on how on earth this grown man is her brother instead of an cool gentleman she saw others have. She side eyed the man getting coaxed by her sister-in-law who looks glad.

"What a teriffying thing love is". She shake her head to which her open (H/C) hair flow at the rhythm of cold breeze sparing a certain someone her entire view.

"Oh look !" (Y/N) eyes follow Maria's finger pointing to the ocean.

"An dolphin". Excitement sparkle Ren's eyes making (Y/N)'s eyes wide knowing exactly what this little trouble about to do.

"Ren stop". Despite her warning the oblivious child race to the railing tempt to touch the creature he finds fascinating, his little hands raise to cross the railing before (Y/N) caught his wrist. "Ren don't !" She yelled hugging the boy closely noticing how not one but tons of dolphin are either side of their ship.

"What in the world....?" A dread fill her stomach counting at least twenty or more dolphins surround their ship. "Anton, Maria stay away from the railing for now—MARIA !" She turn her head to find the woman reach her hand to pet the aquatic mammal.

Still cradling the boy she hastily slap her sister-in-law's wrist away. An inch. An inch was their gap she realized calming her pumping heart.

"(Y/N) ! What's your deal ? Why did you overreact ? Maria simply wanted to touch the dolphins also isn't it safe to pet them if they approach you first ?" Anton glare at his sister rubbing his wife's skin lightly.

"You are blind. Can't you see how many dolphins have surround us ? It's an alarming rate to ignore. Also as much as it's fine to pet. You can only do if you are a professional because only they know how to react to their behaviors not us !" (Y/N) glare back, guarding her sister-in-law as she watched in disfavor to the dolphins that tilted it's head. "And their sensitive parts are usually melon means forehead, eyes and blowhold and if petted could result to serious injury". She added noting how the group of dolphins are swimming in circle manner within themselves.

"Something is wrong. Very wrong". She narrowed her eyes at the dolphins she isn't much fond due to their another less known pet name 'the gangster of the ocean' since their behaviors doesn't match their innocence alike appearance where they forcefully rape other female dolphins, use pufferfish as their play toy resulting their deaths, mess with sharks for amusement and such. As much as they are intelligent enough to save a human as well as to drown one too.

"What are they doing ? Only dolphins are surrounding us not other fishes". Unease followed trying to find an answer for their pattern that might be normal yet something, something brewing inside her says otherwise.

"Just calm down and rest, we must not provoke them then they will go in their merry way". Maria tested to cheer up yet failed seeing her frown deepen so she nudged her husband.

"What ?" He whispered leaning near her.

"Do something !"

"What can I do when she is a grumpy cat". He groan when she hit him on his ribs.

"It was a command, mister". She smirked.

"(Y/N) it's alright, there is nothing to worry sometimes dolphins tend to circle around the ships, boats as a sign of protection or curiosity". The (H/C) haired woman nod remembering indeed she read that in an article at her brother's word.

"Okay. Also forgive me for suddenly slapping your wrist and yelling". Guilty weight on her voice as she apologized.

"It's alright. You were doing for our own sakes". Maria smiled revealing her side dimple.

"Still stop being a worrywart". Anton not forget to comment loving his sister's muttering curses. (Y/N) sighing stretch her head putting her nephew down to stretch her arms as well to finally focus on the rare opportunity.

"So empty". No other ships or boats seen yet "So beautiful". The ocean's vast expanse gleamed like a canvas of molten gold, as the sun's radiant beam danced across its waves. The water's surface shimmered and sparkled, a dazzling display of light and color, as if a thousand diamonds had been scattered across its surface. Above, the sky was a brilliant blue, with just a few wispy clouds scattered across it, like cotton tufts carried on the breeze.

In the distance, a line of birds flew in perfect formation, their silhouettes etched against the sky like a delicate pen and ink drawing. They moved in unison, their wings beating in a slow, hypnotic rhythm, as if choreographed to the ocean's gentle swell. The sun's golden rays caught their wings, casting a shimmering glow around each bird, like a halo of light.

As the birds flew overhead, their soft cries echoed through the air, blending with the soothing melody of the waves. The ocean's gleam seemed to intensify, as if reflecting the joy and freedom of the birds in flight. The scene was one of perfect harmony, a symphony of light, sound, and motion, where the ocean, sky, and birds blended in a glorious celebration of life and beauty she ever seen at one sight is truly to behold. An living art is what deity has bestowed humans in form of nature. For a moment truly did all of her tension, clouded thoughts wash away lifting her mood.

Eyes too captured to blink as if the sight would lose from her grasp when her breath hitched and eyes wide in rejection because a huge dark patch of figure in between the dolphins is swimming at her side. "What is that ?" She whisper in utter confusion.

Immediately did (Y/N) search her bag to find her binoculars and squint to look clearly yet to no avail did she success in figuring the creature out. "What is this ? Another sea animal ?" Curiosity ate her as she sat near the railing waiting to understand. "Are the dolphins protecting the thing ?" Because the figure only move in between the dolphins that circle around it, also if it were enemies the fight would had broken out already.

SPLASH ! Disbelief paint her expression witnessing an tail flared out of the water, its vibrant green scales glistening in the sunlight. The tail's surface rippled and flexed, revealing a mesmerizing pattern of lighter and darker shades of green, like the swirling hues of a tropical lagoon. For a fleeting moment, the tail's full majesty was on display, its sleek, streamlined shape slicing through the air. Then, with a swift motion, it vanished beneath the waves once more, leaving behind only a hint of its presence—a whispered promise of secrets hidden beneath the surface.

"It's impossible ! That was almost like an mermaid !" She screamed standing up from her seat startling the family who had been engrossed by the fishes on other side, their heads jerking up in unison like puppets on a string. Silence spread except for (Y/N)'s heavy breathing, as if the very air had been sucked out of it. Anton's family exchanged bewildered glances, unsure how to react to her outbrust of something unbelievable. The tension was palpable until finally, Anton burst out laughing, breaking the spell, and the air erupted into chuckles.

"What are you talking about ?" Anton questioned.

"Aunty ! Mermaids are only myths don't you learn ?" Ren's eyes winkled in mischief and grining ear to ear.

"I think you should rest". Suppressing her bubbling smile Maria suggested making her enraged.

"I am not lying ! I truly saw it ! I-I-" She spoke with a hesitant cadence, her stutter punctuating each sentences as if the words sounds distant to herself. "Believe me—" An abrupt end her sentences as the boat shuddered violently, its hull creaking in protest, before jolting to a sudden, eerie stillness.

"What happen ?" (Y/N) was quick to question, her heart sank in her stomach.

"It's alright let me check !" Anton wave his hands controlling the situation by walking to the back of the boat while Maria hold her child and gave a comforting pat behind (Y/N)'s back who's eyes glance up to meet the softly glowing sinking sun low, warm hues fading to pinkish blues, slowly extinguishing its light, about to surrender to darkness.

"We have to hurry". Suddenly a gentle noise turn her attention to the ocean where her fearful eyes locked onto the twenty dolphins, their fins slicing through the water, swimming away from the ship, as if luring her into the dark, mysterious depths, escalating her anxiety. Confusion of their sudden departure crawl into her mind raising a unbelievable question.

"Did the dolphins did—"

"Sorry honey and (Y/N) but there seem to be some kind of problem I can't figure out". He click his tongue in annoyance looking at the water. "Maybe I should dive in to che—".

"No ! Not at all". Her voice broke in denying in beat. "It's not safe to dive without having the knowledge of what animals are underneath". She finished elaborating her honest worry.

"Then what should we do ?" Her sister-in-law rest her chin on her palm.

"Maybe stay at the ship !" Ren glee voice yell loud, smiling non-stop.

"What ? But aunty doesn't—". Anton's voice once again cut.

"Aunty is okay with it as long as we are safe". Straining a smile she bent to hug his small body. Unaware the words were far from the reality bound to happen.

Darkness shrouds the boat, stars twinkling above. The woman presses against the window, gazing out at the black ocean, boat's lights casting a golden glow on the waves and little view for her to guard around. Yawns slip past her lips she can't conceal unlike her sleep all because of her growing fear of what might happen if she fell asleep peacefully.

"Did I imagine the tail ?" She pondered on how much her dislike for water grew to the point she hallucinate something belonged on fiction tales and stories to amuse children. She saw her wrist watch : 11:00 pm as drowsiness crept over her, heavy eyelids drooping, until a faint splash echoed through the air, jolting her awake with a start.

"What was that ?" Instantly she sprint outside her room to outside only be finding nothing not even water drops on the wooden floor. Her head tilted pluzzed questioning whether she herself heard right or perhaps it was the noise within the water. Relieving a sigh she walk back to her room noticing how in hurry her door opened a little offering her to spot wet wooden floor.

She halted. Knowing very well the ship isn't crash to be filled with water nor did she spill any water yet how come it's wet ? Unless "It was a trap. A trap for me to go outside and someone—" Fear gripped her throat to let out any voices knowing someone is inside her safe room. Slowly stepping backwards she wince at the creaking noises and walk to find her brother's room only to encounter group of dolphins gather at the boat's railing, clicking and whistling softly as they try to squeeze through, their bodies undulating and scraping against the metal in a gentle yet persistent bid for entry.

This time the scream was unrestricted freezing the sea creatures as she run back to her room forgetting about an intruder inside her room, quickly her fingers barricade the door with any possible object. Her chest constricts, air trapped in her lungs as fear paralyzes her. Her heart races, mind frozen in terror, unable to process the surreal horror unfolding before her. When a cruel realization wash her now she is alone with an intruder.

Ever slowly she turn around facing the certain someone she confirmed got a glimpse earlier, eyes wide with dread, she's petrified, her breath caught in a silent scream gazing the mythical creature.

A merman.

She shrink back in fear and fascination entwined like the tendrils of a vine. Her breath hitches, heart racing, as she stares into his shimmering scales and piercing gaze. Transfixed, she's unable to look away, her terror tempered by a hypnotic allure, as if drawn into the depths of his oceanic eyes. The merman's mystique holds her captive, a siren's call that beckons her closer, even as her mind screams to flee.

"It's not real". She whispered refuse to acknowledge his existence in front her. How could she if he had the power to crush her in his palm only ? Options limited for her to choose from, flee ? How when outside soldiers of dolphins are scattered. Fight ? Unbeatable his strength are comparing to hers just merely stare at those muscular flesh. Pled ? Perhaps yes.

"P-Please. P-Please don't kill me and my family". Her (E/C) eyes swell up with tears. His on the other hand curve in satisfaction. Silence was all given answer before his lips parted and his voice unfurls like a dark bloom, petals of sound that envelop (Y/N) in an unsettling embrace. His song is a low, thrumming whisper, a vibration that resonates deep within her chest, making her heart quiver. Fear's icy fingers crawl up her spine as his melody conjures visions of shadowy depths and forgotten nightmares. A voice masterful of manipulation, weaving a tapestry of dread that ensnares (Y/N)'s mind, each note a delicate thread of terror that binds her closer to his will.

"He is not a merman instead a siren". Her hands clap into her ears protest against the enchantment no matter what. She even dug her fingers deep into her ear buds yet the voice still sweep. Blood bled yet his voice stayed. No. No. No. No. No. She won't lose without a tough fight she decided retrieving her fingers staggering her feet she broke the wooden table holding a piece of wood further entertaining the male siren who sat comfortably on the soft bed, singing his lure.

He is confident. Even arrogant she won't able to resist longer after all he is a siren, the very creation of creature made to spellbound humans by his mesmerizing voice awakening the deepest desires of foolish humans who deem themselves intelligent and courageous. In reality they are very insignificance to mythically sea species as plankton. However it falter his view a little when her hands grasp the wooden plank crashes against the siren's tail, the impact sending a shudder through the air along his melody stutter like skipping beats allowing her a chance to attack again this time on the same spot intend a injury however he was faster, smarter shifting his tail and slapping her entire being to the floor.

Ha. An enigmatic smile cast upon his ruby lips as his eyes studied the fragile being refusing him, his voice drop to a low, husky whisper like the gentle lapping of waves on a moonlit shore. An unfamiliar interest spark because the entire reason he even attacked the ship was for his boredom. Weeks had passed with no signs of any new human toy leading him to hunt trivial creatures with his species rejecting any seduction from his female species because they were dull, boring until today a joyful laugh captured his eyes with curiousity. A boat with humans. Mischief control his mind to hunt them right away yet a strange feeling to observe came over so he watched. Their teasing remarks, pretending fights that he realize too late his compatriot dolphins has appeared too to guard him even though in sea world all knew the most dangrous predator is sirens themselves yet the dolphins befriend their species like moth to flame.

First he was angered for the dolphins to do as they pleased yet he was curious to see how would those humans react especially that female (H/C) head and certainly did not fail to surprise him by showing disfavored towards the creatures humans oh so adore. Giving him more reason to hunt the boat and to see more unfolding layers of emotions on the certain female he gifted peek of his existence biting back laugh to destroy their weirdly metals called engine he heard them talking.

The trap was set now the prey has to walk into it for him to tear, dices the warm flesh like he always did leading to their current time.

But he come with the terms to enjoy his little toy longer. Yes, he will show generousity by sparing her alive and label her his pet. The delicious thought impatient him greatly he slams his tail on the boat's floor, echoing like thunder, His eyes not tearing from her figure, With each strike, the winds howl and waves churn, the siren's song weaving a tempest of delightnent. The boat shudders, wooden planks creaking beneath the force of his call. Floor shakes unable for (Y/N) to hold her balance.

"What is happening ?" She cried out falling on the hard floor again and again. Her barely lidded eyes stare at the window to see dark clouds converge, unleashing a torrent of rain that lashes down on the boat. Winds shriek, whipping waves into a frenzy as the vessel creaks and groans. Water pours in, flooding the decks as the boat's timbers shudder and crack. The siren's song reaches a fever pitch, his tail thrashing the sea into a chaotic tumult. The boat's hull splinters, planks bursting apart as the waves surge in, threatening to engulf all in their path. Rain pounds down, stinging skin and blinding her eyes, as the tempest rages on, merciless and unrelenting eventually drowning into the ocean she fears.

"Brother. Sister-in-law.." Her thoughts tailed off. "Ren". Inhaling water, paralyzing her body that is useless against the water as she not learnt to swim. Mind spinning and finally she freed her conscious to be under the song spell closing her eyes wondering if it's forever. Missing the way a tail carry her waist upwards.

Her eyes slowly open, a grogginess clouding her mind and a sense of disorientation washes over her. As she tries to sit up, she felt touches of unwanted hands and caress on her bare parts. Fingers trace her arms, sending shivers down her spine. Her gaze falls upon the siren, his eyes fixed intently on her, his hands roaming shamelessly on her skin with a gentle yet firm touch. His calloused palms graze her shoulders, sending a spark of electricity through her veins. (Y/N)'s heart races, her mind foggy, as she tries to process what's happening. The siren's hands continue their exploration, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, as (Y/N) struggles to find her voice, to protest and move away.

"Aww, is the little human can't move ?" A sarcastic laugh fell on her, his first words to her is a mock comparing their gap of strength angering her rather than fear.

She glared after all she is bound to die if sooner what's the point ? wiggle from his disgusting touches she tried her best to control her moments in which the male creature snicker leaning closer to her face.

"I saved you not to free you. You little delusional human. You are mine rightfully and let me use you as I please". A sinister smile curve finding fear mix anger on those beautiful eyes he before not paid attention. His fingers cup her cotton soft skin careful to not gaze her with his sharp nails. He press the skin more, feeling bones underneath and a flinch from the human.

His eyes wide in delightment. His another hand caress her cheek intensely watching her every twitch to blink.

Pearlix's finger pads rub (Y/N)'s lips. She narrowed her eyes.

His finger continue to trace path down to her chin. Her lips twist in scowl still under spellbound under him.

He paused at the delicate curve of neck and her pulse flutter under him.

His nails dance across the collarbone and her breath caught at her throat.

He is curious while she is in denial.

The contrast between them utterly fascinated Pearlix, that he toyed more around her body she so obsessed to cover with irrelevant clothes. Tearing bluntly he was baffled to find another layer of cloth so he tore again this time a pleasant hum vibrate from his chest staring the assets of female he never interest on his species yet this woman's are captivating inviting him to bite, touch so he comply to his desire.

One breast been fondling, another one biten harshly earning a wince from her. He smirked coating her bud with his saliva, sucking more and more with hunger that border on desperation. (Y/N) sucked a chunk of breath, tears itself steaming from her tail of eyes as she layed helpless until her body stirred, limbs twitching and sensation returned. Her face contorted, mouth opening in a ragged cry, as her sobs grew louder. Her voice cracked with emotion, cries echoing through the air. She wept uncontrollably stopping the siren entirely.

However not for the reasons she hoped for because he licked her salty tears savouring her sorrow and finally pounce on her attractive lips, grasping her air in form of claiming his possession, dwelling under her tongue, twisting and sucking altogether like an mad beast ignoring her whimpers, pushes against his chest.

Raged she bite down his slit tongue causing him to glare at her and dragging out his wounded tongue bleeding the sliver rivulets both surprising and scaring her.

"You know now I understand this fraction between us. I understand why I wanted you, kissed you, possessed you because". An errie smile stretch across his ruby lips while vivid green irises shone like beacons hinting his deadly obsession. "I love you". His icy heart pound warm against his flesh, heating his cheeks yet the razor sharp smile stayed.

"Be my wife". He announced not focusing her terror and he slashed his own palm, opening a deep gash that welled with silver blood. (Y/N) struggled to free herself, but the siren's hold was merciless.

He forced her lips to his palm, pressing her lips to the wound. (Y/N) tried to turn away, but he held her fast, his fingers wrapped around her jaw like a vice.

The first drop of his blood touched her tongue, and a searing pain, like liquid fire coursed through her veins. She gagged, trying to spit it out, yet the siren's grip was unrelenting. He forced her to swallow, his eyes blazing with an unnatural hunger.

As the silver blood burned its way down her throat, (Y/N) felt her vision blur, her senses reel. "Now you will be immortal like me. Mine for eternal". He sing song knowing no force of nature, not his merfolk, not even her dead familiar humans separate them.

"Our". He pressed a sadistic kiss. "Love of immortal".

FIN

[divinehedons]

godless promethean, elektran rage.

navigation: masterlist

pairing: pirate!joel miller x siren!reader

word count: ~8.4k words (I KNOW I'M SO SORRY)

summary: when the wrath of poseidon brings in something not quite human, a hardened pirate with the harshness of a soldier at war faces a bright-eyed siren with the delusion of a dreamer.

warnings: this is a DARK, EXPLICIT fic. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT or i will BLOCK you. so much plot, pirate!au, siren!au, joel is a violent motherfucker, reader is a metamorphic creature that turns human-like when not submerged in water, graphic depiction of violence and injury, mentions of abduction and implications of abuse, explicit p-in-v sex, oral (f!receiving), squirting, creampie, soooo much murder. it's like a greek tragedy without the incest.

note: THANK YOU FOR 600 FOLLOWERS!!! much of this work was inspired by me rereading the odyssey by homer, but the trope of joel x siren!reader is not of my own making! thank you so much for reading, and as always, comments and reblogs are much apprciated!

Be strong, saith my heart. A wave crests over the hull of the ship. Then another. And another. I have seen worse things than this. Synchronized hands haul the rope for the sails, a last attempt to regain control of their vessel. The Balkan sea stretches before weary sailors, endless and unforgiving, with one foot in their watery grave and the other clawing to live.

In the midst of this carnage is The Flounder, harbinger of chaos, populated by a crew of men who pillage, murder, and destroy anything that gets in their way. Joel once thought of him and his men as indestructible. The Wrath of Poseidon makes him reconsider otherwise.

“Goddamnit, Bonnie, we’re never gettin’ out of this mess!” Joel yells over the deluge of rain, tightening his grip and growling as the rope digs in to the skin of his palms. He sees another wave crest over them, sturdy as a wall, coming down upon their shivering backs, leaving them spluttering out seawater. He coughs momentarily, heaving in air as he digs his feet into the deck.

When he regains his breath, he hears his name being called. He looks, their Captain bellowing from where he steered. His new orders came through in the middle of the crack of thunder and the whistle of an unending storm. Check beneath the deck for damages. Fix anything that could sink them. He calls for someone to replace his hold and he runs for it. 

In his head, he had begun to pen a letter back to his waiting daughter under the care of his brother. Dear Sarah, he thinks, climbing down the ladder and finding himself in knee-deep, ice-cold water. I promised you that this will be my last expedition. That after this, we shall live out however you want us to. I only hope that I can live up to that promise. He cusses under his breath when he finds a growing leak in the hull, crossing himself as he immediately went about to fix it temporarily with what materials he could find. You’re safer with your uncle Tommy than here in this misery. And should anything happen to me, know that I love you and I trust you to be good to him, too. He crosses the threshold to see if there was anything else, moving across floating bottles, bobbing up and down with remnants of booze. With a sigh, isolated from the chaos above deck, he leans against a column, grabbing a drifting bottle and swallowing down the booze to settle his nerves.

I grow old, I grow old. He mouths the words under his breath. I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

The muffled sounds of the world melts away as he tries to catch his breath, gritting his teeth from the ache in his hips. Getting too old for this. He tries to think of a way that rest can be comfortable in this mess. Sleep, he thinks, delicious and profound. The very counterfeit of death.  It is only when his nerves settle that he hears it.

A splash in the common room. Too loud to be some drifting object. Something that continues to move against the motion of the ship between the waves. He stills himself, the empty bottle slipping between his fingers. Slowly, he moves closer to the source of the sound, like a predator stalking his prey in the darkness. He retrieves a drifting harpoon, peeking through the threshold of the room to inspect. In the semi-darkness, interrupted by the flickering of lanterns and dying candelight, he catches the shimmer of something alive. He raises his weapon, looks through his good eye, his brows crinkling at the effort to focus.

Too old and too goddamn blind for this shit.

He blinks a few times more before he finally sees. And what he sees is you.

Your lithe arms reaching against the walls of the ship, trying to find a weak link that could let you escape. Were you brought in by the waves? Were you the very thing responsible for the leak he just had to fix? Initially, Joel made the movement to speak, to ask how you had ended up here—the sea is no place for a maiden like you. But his breath hitches when he looks closer to see… well, you. The incandescent flickering of a scaled tail, blending with inhuman yet somewhat human skin around your hips, and your upper body, glorious, unmarked, and completely fucking naked.

Perhaps it was the months at sea, conversing with no one but the same crew of men who, despite their intelligentsia and capabilities, do not exactly have the looks capable of producing in him the flustering exhilaration of some teenager. But he, of all people, know of the stories, too. The whispers shared in the saloons in the darkness. The shared thrill and excitement of such beauty and danger lurking beneath the temptresses’ skins. He has heard of claws coming for his companions’ throats, have heard of the trickery they can cause with the power of the ocean entirely at their disposal. He thinks of Odysseus again— tethered to the mast of his ship, The only one of his men to hear the voice of the sirens and have survived. Odysseus, who would have laid his life down  just to come close to the very presence of something so divine. 

Another thing he knows is that the price of one siren is half the bounty they had planned for. Months of work cut out for himself. Months closer to seeing his daughter again. It’s enough to give him the taste of freedom. His own little piece of heaven that, ironically, is someone else’s hell. The funny thing was, he does not feel guilt about it.

Perhaps he was not Odysseus. He was not as noble. Nor did he ever want to be. A noble character would never provide a good life for his Sarah, waiting for him oceans away.

That was the decision that sealed the creature’s fate before him. Without a second thought, he fires his harpoon, the sharp head piercing through the creature’s shoulder as an angelic wail emanates from her precious throat. With her pinned down, he had begun yelling, calling for the presence of men to see what they’ve caught in their vessel. Their ticket to riches. The honeypot herself.

The blade itself incites to deeds of violence.

He swallows down the guilt as the thunder of heavy steps descend upon their victim, her screams only growing louder and louder amidst the exhilarated, disbelieving laughter of his companions. He does not dare to look. Does not dare to see those doe eyes of yours begging for respite, pulling him into your charms.

An eye of an eye. A good life for Sarah in exchange for hers.

Fair enough.

—-

When The Flounder has escaped the barrages of the storm, the sea is quiet. Some would even say peaceful. Joel wouldn't exactly use that word. Not when he hears your wails breaking the silence. That first night, no one understood what needed to be done. No one even bothered to try and treat your wound. The very wound he had caused. Everyone had something more important to do. Clear the seawater beneath the hull, secure the sails, have a quick meal, get a few winks of sleep. Naturally, the mythical being, as all other inconsequential things, were tucked away, you dealt with the usual brusque nature of men.

So when he had been called to watch you before dawn broke, that's what he set his mind to. Stepping down beneath the deck, with spare scraps of cloth and booze in hand. They've cleared out the flooding. But the wood hadn't dried completely. Mick, who he had passed beforehand, gave him a questioning look. "Aren't ya scared she'd rip your throat out?"

He scoffs, tilting his head to the side as he speaks. "I'm more scared of the stench she'll make if she starts dyin' on us, Micky."

What he did not expect when he opens the closet you've been locked in is the metamorphic cross between a tail and legs you kick out at him. What he hears next is the snarl, your body knocking him over, small, webbed hands slipping around his throat. “You asshole!” That same heavenly voice, filled with so much malice that does not fit with the angelic features towering over him. You speak in a language he does not understand, a torrent of words driven by so much emotion that he sees a glance of what Homer was so distasteful about. You could kill him, devour him bones and all and you wouldn’t even flinch.

However, he sees how your rage blinds you, too. Blinds you to his precise movements, making you think you’ve subdued him, only to suddenly flip your positions, pinning you down by your wrists, trying to look into your eyes.

What you see, staring up at him as your last yells escape you, is the strands of silver in his hair. What follows next is his tired eyes. A sea of stories that you feel as if you can almost hear them if the world is quiet enough. However, you cannot deny the warmth to them. The fire that you failed to see in the other men that shoved you in the closet you have been suffocating in. It’s what makes you stop in your struggle as you finally hear his voice.

“Damnit, let me help you, honey, c’mon…”

It’s then that Joel finally comprehends what he sees. You, a mythical being that shifts from merfolk in one instance, to a walking goddess in the next. Perhaps it was what helped your kind survive; camouflaging yourself and disappearing amidst throes of people. “You turn when ya… when…?”

You swallow, breathless and trembling as you grit your teeth. He sees the panic in your eyes, the idea that he can just betray you if he wanted to. If it would benefit him.

“Let me help you, darlin’.”

“W-when I’m…” You breathe in sharply. “When I’m not in water.”

He nods, slowly, watching the lithe legs and your bare body, spotless and perfect in every way. “I see.” He removes himself from you, moving away from your periphery. You gather your breath, turning over to see him, kneeling over an upturned washtub, somewhat filled with some form of water or another. “Those men up there? They can’t see you like this, otherwise…” he trails off, preferring not to picture what they’d do. What they’ve all once done before at sea. “Ya hear me?” He looks back at you, watching the way your hands gripped your bleeding shoulder wound, evidence of what he had already done to you. “You don’t know what else they can do to a pretty girl like ya.”

So, gently, he kneels beside you with a pained groan from the ache in his knees. You flinch under his touch and he gives you a stern look. “Why did you do this?”

He shakes his head, opening the bottle he brought down with him to pour it over the gaping flesh. Your soft fingers grip on to his arm, the softest whine escaping your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut. “You’re not the only one fightin’ to survive in this world, honey.” He shushes you gently, moving to wrap what pieces of cloth he could find, using them to bandage your wound as you finally soften in his hold. He helps you into the tub, and he tries not to look into your eyes again.

You spoke again when he turned away, giving you the privacy he assumed you needed. “Just because you need to survive doesn’t mean I need it any less.” He stops in his tracks, looking down for a moment before clearing his throat. “Are men always this wretched? That one must tear down the innocent to survive?” He moves to answer, turning back momentarily, before sighing, turning back to continue cleaning up the mess. “Thank you, though. For… this.”

You know exactly how to describe it. You just don’t want him to hear it. The gentleness that comes, not in the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

Joel hears the noise in his head, clouding his thoughts and drowning them out as he moves from one place to another.as he tries not to think about you, quiet in a tub of water, pretending to ignore him. Men are so quick to blame the gods…

He hands you a plate of scraps. The trimmings from a loaf of bread. A slice of some meat, and the last pieces of cheese he could find. “Eat,” he orders gruffly, moving to sit by the side of your tub, while he seats himself with a slice of bread. “Can’t have ya dyin’ of starvation either.”

You obey, weakened by the struggles of the evening, disheartened by your imprisonment, so close to freedom and at the same time so far away from it. You eat slowly, as if considering each little fragment you were handed, as if the world is unfamiliar in the presence of someone else.

Joel couldn’t help it. Perhaps it was your charm. Whatever it was, he started to tell you things.

He tells you of his life, so far away from the ocean, landlocked. He tells you how they make a living with animals. But he also tells you about Sarah. Sarah who dreamt of the world. Sarah who he was doing all this for. Sarah who asked him as a child to read to her every night. Sarah who was growing more and more with each passing day, the gap between the two of them becoming wider than he could ever comprehend.

“My survival may not mean much,” he says, “but hers is the most vital thing in my life, doll.”

He feels your gaze on him, becoming easier and easier to see as the sun slowly grows higher in the sky. In thirty minutes, his watch will end, and you do not know how the next man will treat you next. Will he be kind? Will he have Joel’s eyes?

He turns to leave, taking the plates with him as he stands up with a pained groan. “Don’t cause too much trouble, girl.” He only stops when you say his name, his gaze catching the blurry image of you, your tail sinking beneath you in the tub. “Yeah?”

“Will you read to me when you return?” you whispered, afraid to show fragility in your own internment.

He nods after a moment of thought, clambering up on deck to report back to the Captain.

Men are so quick to blame the gods.

—

For a while, a week or so, you believed things could be nice with Joel somewhat in your corner. Everyone else seemed to care less or cower in fear of you. Maybe because you do try to scare them away. At least, if you were going to be betrayed, it was Joel doing the betraying.

He returned at the same time just as he did the night before. And slowly, a routine emerges. He cleans your wounds, he feeds you whatever he finds. Then he reads to you. His eyes are too weak to read without you holding the lantern. So you learned that second night to emerge from your tub and to hold the lantern for him. He reads to you with the skilled words of a bard. He reads to you as if he’d read this tale before. Perhaps to Sarah? Perhaps to someone else?

You feel your stomach curdle at the thought of there being someone else in his life. You swallow down the bile and listen more closely.

When he leaves at dawn, you lie in the tub, dreaming of the words he had read to you, turning your back to the man that comes next. They do not bother you. You do not bother them. You become a ghost until he brings you to life.

Sing to me, Muse, of the Man of many wiles.

By the third night, he brings with him a blanket for you to wrap yourself in as you sit closer beside him, trying to follow the words he read, only to surrender because the letters are too rigid, too unnatural. You began shutting your eyes as he reads to you, learning of Odysseus, a once too familiar name you have heard in others of your kind before…

Sing to me, Muse, of these matters. Daughter of Zeus,My starting point is any point you choose.

You begin to talk to him too by the fourth night, observing your transformed toes as he hammered little areas he figured needed repairs. You tell him of the world beneath the waves, the languid distances you’ve traveled, never truly feeling as if you have found a home. You tell him, too, of wonders big and small.

You spoke of all these things, pretending to be unaware of the way he listens with such interest. It’s like you wanted him to be interested. How could you not, when night by night his eyes become warmer and warmer whenever they fell upon you? How could you not when he’s the only one that cared?

You try to read his thoughts, sometimes, when it’s quiet and he prefers to sit by himself, finding a few winks of sleep while you ate your food. He’s rather good at hiding them. You wonder if it makes his life easier. You wonder if any of it is easy for him.

Then he asks you something on his fifth watch.

“Is the whole singin’ thing somethin’ you actually do?”

You turn your head over your shoulder, setting down the snowglobe you’ve taken an interest in the last couple of hours. You saw it on a shelf this afternoon. And you had been impatient for Joel to arrive ever since. You consider the question, Then you smile and nod meekly.

“Do…” you pause, moving to face him instead. “Do you want to hear?”

He smirks, moving the chair closer to your seated frame, seating with the backing pressed to his front, legs straddling the seat, arms atop, covering that sliver of chest you had been sneaking glances from all evening. He had that thin linen shirt on again— the one that swoops down his chest. The one you see in your dreams.

“Only if it won’t kill me, sweet cheeks.”

You like that. Sweet cheeks. You barely understand what it means. You nod slowly, moving to lay on your back as you stare at the ceiling, monotonous and unchanged since you last looked. As you sing, you try not to look him in the eye. As if you cannot bear the sight of him seeing your capabilities and forever changing his perception of you. The hymn is warm, almost homely. A relentless Odyssey that means to take you home. A song that’s said to bring forth memories of home. You know Joel does not understand the language. Nor do you want him to. You won’t admit it, but you’re still terrified of what he could do if you remind him of how much he misses his home.

But what is even more surprising is this: instead of reminiscing about the tropics from which you have loved so deeply, all you can think about is him. All you can picture is his face. All you can see is possibilities of how he’s looking at you now.

When you finish, dawn is already breaking over the horizon. He has to go.

Quietly, you rose and slowly return to the tub with your snowglobe, watching as your body metamorphosizes— your last line of defense for survival. The shine of your scales so familiar, but never this clear under the water. The light is always so diffused— as distant as a foreign planet. Joel, on the other hand, stays there for a few minutes more, looking at the spot where you just were—at the plank of wood bearing the wet shape of your body. You started to think maybe he won’t leave when he swallows, rising from where he sat, and approaching you to hand the cheese he couldn’t eat from his portion of the meal.

“I quite enjoyed that,” he confesses, tucking the food into your palm. Just then, he encloses your hand in both of his, taking a moment to savor the feeling of your cool, changed skin against his. He wonders momentarily if you’ll feel different without your tail. “Thank you.”

He leans down, bringing your hand up to his waiting mouth, his lips pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. A shiver runs down your spine as you comprehend the sensation. His lips. How warm he is… the scruff of his beard against smooth skin. You feel him smirk against your hand, pulling away as he makes his way above deck.

And on your hand is the reddened skin that evidenced the smidgen of affection you were giving. And for now, it’s enough.

You turn your back to the world once more and into your own dream world, staring at your hand as you dream of Joel all morning long.

—

You suppose everything that goes around does eventually come around. You wonder why you're so optimistic. But, you supposed, just as things were getting better, the fates had other plans in store for you.

The call came just as you were coming of the stupor of sleep. From what you can tell, it was barely midday, and someone was yelling above where you resided. All hands on deck.

The thunderous noise of heavy feet trundle above head. The man watching you grumbled, muttering something along the lines of, "don't you dare think about running, li'l bitch."

You watch him slam the door, and curiosity gets the better of you. You rise slowly from the tub, slinking along the floor, struggling to lift yourself enough to peer out from one of the windows. But when you do, you've come to realize the gravest sin of your naivety.

There is a ship to be plundered. Slowly, the masks worn by the men where you are melt away. You see familiar men with their swords drawn, laughing maniacally, screaming and terrifying the ship they've found to appease their hunger.

You feel your body changing, and you begin to turn away from the window when you catch sight of silver hair and scruff. A visage that you finally see in broad daylight.

Joel is one of the men who almost seem to dance to the song of violence. Perhaps the stories were true. Perhaps the secrets of the shadows are laid bare in the light. Even Joel's secrets cannot escape the midday sun. When you see him, he is in battle with some toughened fisherman, their duel witnessed by cowering passengers and well-dressed women. For a moment, you think Joel will come to his senses, see how senseless all this violence is.

But then he takes the man by his hair, holding his head and facing him to the sun. His sword arches across the expanse of his victim's neck, rivulets of blood bursting forth in gush, an unstoppable stream. A squeal escapes you, the violent image burnt into the recesses of your brain, forcing you away from the window.

You run on shaky legs, screaming and yelling, reaching the doorway and attempting to push the door open, only to find resistance. Your fists pound the hard wood, your body pushing and shoving, unable to accept the fact that you can't call to him— show him that you saw and you demand an answer why.

For the first time, ever since Joel shot you with a harpoon, you truly understood something you tried so hard to ignore.

You sleep under the shelter of murderers. You think you felt affection from the hands of a man who just as easily took someone's life away. You are only loved because you're something else. Something not human.

You are only loved because you'll ensure their survival.

—

The blade itself incites the deeds of violence.

When the carnage ended, Joel raised his head to see the sky beginning to paint itself in bolder strokes of colors. He stretches his arms, only to feel the sticky plasma of drying blood sticking to his arms, his torso, spotting the expanse of his face. He is the last to leave their conquered ship, and he takes his time. He walks along the scattered piles of bodies, putting whoever hasn't perished out of their misery with the very same blade he wielded in battle. He's alive. He can go home. He watches the revelry on their vessel: men roasting the spoils from the kitchen, barrels upon barrels of ale and mead slowly being chewed through.

The stage is set. All they need is a little shock of entertainment.

But what he worries about is you. You who probably cowered from fear at the sudden influx of noise. You who definitely saw the things they are capable of doing. You with the wound on your shoulder, healing at a snail's pace with your imprisonment. So, he takes the time to find supplies to help you. He finds antiseptic. He finds needle and thread. It will have to do.

When he returns to his ship, He has spread oil across the deck where the bodies lay. With one bloody hand, he strikes a match to burn away the evidence of their carnage. The burning ship drifts further and further into the horizon, drowned out by the sounds of cheering. Joel is handed a mug of better than average mead.

As he watches the lights flicker and consume the rest of the ship, one question remains at the forefront of his thoughts, echoed and repeated by every voice in his head.

Do I dare?

Clarity comes when he's two mugs in, everyone else fucking off to see how much treasure piled up. He looks at the door that leads directly where you are and the question becomes clearer. It is in the iambic beat of his heart. I am, I am, I am.

It's in the excitement at the thought of seeing you tonight and having a good meal to offer. He begins to smirk, taking two plates and finding food he thinks you'll like.

Do I dare disturb the universe?

—

You do not look at him when he enters. You cannot, knowing the things you’ve seen today. Especially when you hear he’s happy, humming as he sinks down the stairs from the deck. The jump on his step was not there before. And instead of finding that itching curiosity to see if he was smiling or if you were responsible for this joy, you feel your stomach sour at one thought.

Perhaps the slaughtering of others brought glee to his bones.

“You must be hungry,” he says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You feel a strange stickiness to his touch. So strange that you finally look, only to be horrified by the sight of his bloodsoaked hand. You yelp helplessly, shrinking away from his touch. You shed tears, luminescent in the semi-darkness, as precious as pearls that only he can see. “Darlin’...” His hand comes to cup your face gently, trying to make you look him in the eye. In this form, your skin is cold, the warmth of his hands turning your skin red.

“Y-you killed them,” you finally manage, the iron smell filling your senses. Seeing you panicked, Joel reaches down into the tub to slowly bring you out of your tub and into his willing arms, slow shushes escaping him. “Are you going to kill me, too?”

So that was what you were so scared of.

You bury your face into his chest, his shirt smelling of him— of sandalwood and musk, tobacco smoke, and underneath it all, a few specks of blood. Meanwhile, he lets you, cradling you in his arms as you continue to shed your tears. He lets you, knowing you wouldn’t listen to him with so much emotion in that pretty little head of yours.

But when you do eventually calm down, he doesn’t miss a moment. He couldn’t.

“I can never harm you, honey.” He breathes in through his nose, finally close enough to smell you. The sea air in your hair, sunshine and honeysuckles from lands he can only dream of. “I can’t even if I tried.”

Slowly, he lays you down where he had dropped his sheet—the sheet you’ve been wrapping yourself around. The sheet that smells like the both of you; that way he could imagine waking up to you the past few times he had gotten sleep. Slowly, he straddles your changed form, naked and so fucking divine it has his head spinning. “Can I take care of ya, darlin’?” He waits for you. Even when everything is pushing him to kiss you— he has to know you want this.

He has to know you’re not miserable.

Seeing this, you take a deep breath. You hold his face. Your skin, smooth and not exactly human, bright against his, earth-marred, bloody, and burnt from days in the sun. And yet, you do not see those flaws. All you see are his warm eyes, so desperate to tell you he wants you, and yet so willing to walk away if you asked. So you grip him by his shirt, pulling him against you in a wanton, desperate kiss.

It is the first kiss you share. The first of the hundreds you’ll share that night. But you will always remember that first.

Because it’s burning against your cool skin. Because the scratch of his scruff is a sensation you have not felt in the long life you have lived. He holds your face, bringing your head closer to him, pressing against the front of his skull, making you whine from want as he deepens the kiss. You’ll always remember it because you know this kiss.

You can already see the ending before the two of you ever began.

His hand slips into your hair, his mouth pulling away from yours, only to drift down  your cheek, your jaw… He chuckles against your skin when you gasp so meekly, melting like butter in his arms.

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” he whispers, marking the crook of your neck with his mouth. “Let me show you how ya have me wrapped around your pretty li’l finger.”

Already, you can see him in your memories, tangled up in him. His kisses on your neck, his spit drying against your skin. His fingers reaching and tearing you apart. In the eternity you’ll be facing alone… he’s there. Just there, a willing invitation to a dream.

He’s pushing your legs up, now fully transformed, and he comprehends everything. Without words, it seems, things simply come naturally to him. He cups your cheek with one hand, folding your body in half as your legs drape over his broad shoulders. His thumb brushes your lips, and you part them for him. You let him fuck his thumb into your wet mouth, groaning at the way you suck on him. “Good girl…”

Just then, his other hand reaches down, a warm sensation cupping your cunt as you whine softly against him, looking him in the eye. “Good God, are you always this soakin’?”

You slowly pull back, shivering softly from the sensation of him parting your folds. Only you, Joel. No one else can do this to me. He comprehends, and he groans again, leaning down to kiss you. His cock aches in the confines of his pants. Just like that, everything dulls out and he can only comprehend this: to have you. You, you, and just you.

“Guess I have some makin’ up to do to ya, huh?”

Just then, his head disappears between the valley of your breasts, marking a trail of blood-red hickeys down to your stomach, one hand pinching a nipple harshly enough to make you squeal, to which he shushes you again. Gonna get us caught, doll. He continues his way, finally finding your sweet cunt. He shifts his hands so he can slowly part your folds. He kisses the inside of your thighs just as you clamp one hand over your whining mouth. And, with nothing left to do, he takes a deep breath, looking at your face as he sinks his tongue down between your folds, tasting you with a longing groan of delight.

Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.

All you can feel is the flurry of rhythm Joel sets. His trembling jaw, as if whispering prayers to whatever powers may be. His tongue splitting you open and fucking you raw in a way so obscene, you think it’s unbecoming. Perhaps it is. Perhaps by letting him have you this way, you have turned your back on your world. But he fucks one finger into your surprisingly warm cunt and everything else fades away into the silence.

“Fuck, baby…” It’s so easy, you whining urging him on, calling for him and begging to just keep going, dear God. One finger becomes two, then three. Then he raises himself so he can see your face better. So he can see the way your features contort into a heavenly amalgamation of beauty and pleasure and wonder in one full spectrum. But there is nothing more beautiful when his fingers brush against something that made you keen closer to his touch, eyes wide open with your mouth trembling.

“That’s it, isn’t it, darlin’? It is, huh?” He chuckles, the rumble of it vibrating from his chest, echoing to the backs of your thighs, and finally, straight to your wanting cunt. He smirks, his upper body shifting so his arm was much more free— just so he can keep aiming for that one spot that made you keen so beautiful he gets a glance of your otherworldly beauty.

A long forgotten poem comes up from the back of his head, just as he was pulling your orgasm from your willing frame, his other hand covering your mouth before you get too loud just so you wouldn’t be interrupted, caught, and possibly separated.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. “Good fuckin’ girl. Such a good girl, honey…” I did not think they’ll sing for me.

You shut your eyes, grinding your hips into his touch, chasing a sensation you can’t even dare put into words. You whine into the palm of his hand, feeling as if your skin, normally so cool, set on fire with the desire you have for Joel. You peer through your damp lashes, making out the silhouette of his smirk, his warm eyes somewhat swelling with pride.

“Joel… there’s… there–” you barely get the words out when you feel it. Your vision going white, the electricity flowing through your body, and coming out of you in warm bursts.

Heaven, you think, from how Joel so lovingly described it.

When you come to, he’s pulling his fingers away, and a spurt of fluids follow in the wake of his absence. He chuckles, the sound of it emanating the very depths of your consciousness. “Didn’t know ya could do that, pretty girl.”

It leaves you warm, slightly sleepy. Slightly drifting in and out—the way the ocean climbs and recedes from the shore.

You don’t notice the way Joel watches you. The way blood smeared your perfect face. You do not notice his hand tracing down your torso, coloring it a faded, rusty red. Marked by him, and for him.

And yet if some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so will I endure. For already have I suffered so much, and much have I toiled in perils of waves and wars. Let she be added to the tales of those.

“Please eat,” he finally says as he kisses your forehead. “I saved a plate for you.”

So you do. You sit up, trembling, the cool porcelain pressed against your thigh as you feasted. Grapes, expensive nuts, and meats you could only dream of. You try not to think of the price he paid to lavish you with such an offering. Because now, instead of the guilt, you feel the rumblings of power in your veins. You have become his very god, the one he’d slay men for. The very god to which he offers a plate paid for by carnage. And if you’ve become god, what can you offer him?

Heaven was not fit to house a creature such as I.

—-

He makes love to you after dinner. Slow, careful. He doesn’t want to terrify you. He doesn’t want to get caught, either. He has you on his lap, your cool hands cupping his heated face, spineless from pleasure as he fucks up into you, giving you a moment to accommodate him and get used to the feeling of his cock stretching you wide open. Every vein, his very length, arching and filling you up in the best way there is to be filled.

“Tell me you want this,” he asks, and you oblige him. You whine for him, calling, biting your lip and throwing your head back. You lead his hand to your chest, heaving with slow, shaky breaths. He knows what you want without ever asking it of you. And that is why he squeezes the curve of your breast, sitting up to press his mouth to your collarbone. The kisses set your skin aflame, his fingers pinching and pulling the pleasure from your willing body.

So he gives you everything. You cum once again with you on top of him. You cum again after he bends you over the nearest table with his rough fingers rubbing circles on your needy clit. And on the third time, somewhere when it’s quiet, you both lie on the blanket, your back to his chest, his cock unmoving inside of you.

It’s a moment of respite. A lull. A moment to catch breaths.

“How much did you see earlier?”

His arm is around your waist, his mustache brushing against the back of your ear. It’s nice. It’s almost domestic, a word so foreign to you. Perhaps domesticity is something innately human. But he makes you have a taste of it. And it tastes so sweet. You hum softly, tilting your head so he can kiss more of your neck.

“I saw the first man you killed,” you tell him, to which he groans, pulling you closer. “I couldn’t watch any more after that. It was… too much.” You feel his teeth brushing against the curve of your ear. Then he bites gently just to hear you squirm.

“I don’t want you lookin’ anymore, sweetheart,” he whispers, “not if it’s going to upset you this much.” He leans up, peering over your peaceful face, with your eyes shut and your body languid. “But… I suppose I’ll try.” You open one eye, peering up at him. “Less murders, my queen, yes ma’am.”

You giggle, pressing your palm to his mouth as he continues to tease you with such pet names. He speaks behind your palm. Angel baby, cutie pie… Other pet names you don’t comprehend because the sounds disappear into your cool skin.

And then he’s fucking you again, with you on your side and him above you, caging you in his arms. You catch your lip between your teeth, gritting out half-choked moans. Already, the pleasure has begun to border the line between pleasure and pain. Already, you feel your legs quaking, but you feel the tremble in his spine as well.

He’s close. He’s so fucking close.

That’s when you notice how sporadic his bursts of movement are becoming. Fewer and shorter in between. So, you begin to give back, maneuvering your bodies so you’re laying on top of him once more, digging your blunt nails down against his biceps. You feel his hands on your waist. Bloody hands that have taken an infinite number of lives before you. Bloody hands that will take who knows how many lives after. Bloody hands, that, despite their track record, hold you as if you are so fragile in his grasp.

Gentleness incomprehensible. The best of the world in the palms of his hands.

The both of you, flying into deep, empty space. Alone with Joel in the aether.

Watching his orgasm wash over him just as yours does for the fourth and last time. He pulls you into his chest, letting you moan into his chest. The only thing that betrays his release is the stuttered breaths, the shaky fingers. That is all. And then you feel the warmth of his seed, buried deep within you, treasured and tucked away. It’s so much, you feel it reach places you didn’t expect it to be.

Even when he’s ending things, he’s giving you everything he’s got.

In the afterglow, he takes care of you. Already, the sun is rising  Once again, you won’t see him until it’s dark again. You’ll be turning away from the world and dreaming of those eyes and his smile. But for now, he wipes you clean, kissing your forehead as he brings you back to your tub. For now, you hold his hand for another minute.

“Y’know… Sarah loved playing siren as a fuckin’ kid,” he finally says, cleaning up the plates in silence. “She loves the sea.”

You peer over the lip of the tub, smiling up at him dreamily. “She must be so beautiful. With your smile?” You sigh, leaning back as you look up at the ceiling. “You must miss her much.”

He brushes your cheek with a sigh, shrugging. “Every fuckin’ day, baby.”

He walks away from you, and you wait for him to look back. He does, with a shit-eating smirk at your dazed eyes, neck marked up by his own doing. “Don’t kill anybody today, Joel.”

He nods slowly. “Get some sleep, squirt.” As you turn away, the smile drops. He cannot show that vulnerability out there, amongst the men he’s shared blood, sweat, and tears with. Men he killed from and men he killed with. Men who’d want to tear you apart and swallow you whole. Men who’d kill him if they knew what the two of you did all night.

Then how should I begin to spit out the butt-ends of my days and ways? How should I presume?

He doesn’t have to presume for long. Not when he emerges on deck and he sees the dark shadow of land specking the endless sea of blue he had grown accustomed to. There stands the rise and fall of a mountain, a jagged line breaking the skyline.

The Captain speaks, and the shock burns through him so rapidly that he tries to hide it by leaning against the starboard side.

We hit land midday tomorrow. Our li’l baggage ‘bout to finally bring in some fuckin’ money.

The clock is ticking, what else can he do? Go, go, go.

—

When Joel returns, he’s waking you from a long, languid sleep. You turn to smile at him, but there’s a different look in his eyes. An urgency, a finger pressed to your lips to ensure silence. He carries you from the water and you’re brought up close to see the crease on his forehead. When he wraps you in the sheet, that’s when he speaks.

“Need t’get ya out of here, baby.”

The great escape. The prison break.

Now you feel the tension.

He waits for you to turn, to become inconspicuous. Meanwhile, he’s hot on his heels. He’s gripping a rucksack in his hands, heavy with some inconceivable baggage, muttering to himself. You start to understand the madness. You start to wonder if there’s two versions of Joel waiting behind every door. One of them is the lover— the man who’d kiss you as he introduces you to a world of pleasure. Then there was the monster— the man who sliced open the throat of the person he was robbing blind, the man who fired the harpoon that caused your imprisonment.

“So the monster has come to set me free of my bonds.”

You rise, shaky on your legs and clothed in that sheet that kept you modest. It’s when he stops in his tracks, looking you in the eye before sighing, tearing the cloth away from you to introduce a linen shirt of his. It smells of him; perhaps it even reeks of him.

“They’re going to butcher you if I don’t try, sweetheart.”

You do what you promised to yourself you’ll do when he asks you something. You put your blind faith into his hands and take a leap.

He leads you through a maze of rooms you cannot comprehend. You stop at the crosshairs. You duck under tables when he asks you to. And you know why. Because the men who thirst for your blood can be found on every corner. Because you’re running out of time. Because he’d rather lose you to the waves than those who shed blood like he does.

In a matter of minutes, you find yourselves in the cool evening air. It’s a blind spot, and it’s far enough that he helps you to the raft while it’s almost silent. The sounds of men beginning to have dinner so distant and far away, it’s like an entirely different world. Skillfully, Joel lowers you both into the ocean, the distant beating of the waves masking the sound of him cutting the rope that tethered you to the ship.

He keeps one hand on the behemoth you’ve escaped, and he audibly counts. Quiet enough for you to hear. Tens. Hundreds. Then, a thousand seconds passes.

He pauses, straining to hear. In the flickering light of the lanterns, you see the silver in his hair and his beard. You wonder, momentarily, if it’s the last you’ll see of him. That’s when you hear it.

Yells. But not of alarm. Not of you, their treasured prisoner, missing from her cage. It’s the yells of panic. Of suffering. Of pain.

Upon seeing your features, Joel finally reveals the hidden card up his sleeve.

“I poisoned them. I poisoned them and robbed them blind so they’ll never come after you.”

You look to him, waiting for another shoe to drop. But there is none. This is who he is, laid bare for you to see. Your devotee, giving you the ultimate sacrifice. This is not the monster nor the lover. This is Joel. All masks have fallen to their knees and prostrated themselves before you. Every post abandoned and conquered, only for you.

“Go.”

You blink, and his trembling fingers hold your cheeks, his shaky lips kissing the crown of our head.

“No one’s coming for you as long as I’m there to stop them.”

When you don’t move, he grits his teeth, as if caught between a rock and a hard place. A second passes, then his arms take you, throwing you overboard and into the familiar depths of an ocean below.

The waves welcome you with a surge of power, relentless and enduring. More immortal than you. More divine than you can ever hope to be. The moment you are released from Joel’s hold, the saltwater licks clean the wound on your shoulder. It washes away the scent of Joel’s shirt.

He’s already being erased from you.

From beneath the depths, everything comes back to you. The kiss on your hand, the scraps of food. His sticky, bloodmarked fingers marking you. All of it, slipping through your fingers like sand. In the cool darkness of the open sea, all you can see is a flame starting from the base where you last saw Joel. A fire spreading amongst the ship which you once hailed your prison.

You can see Joel’s boat, smaller in comparison, already racing away towards the shore.

All you can do now, with the power of Poseidon surging and bubbling beneath your veins, is to sing. To sing a hymn that begs before the very gods themselves. But it’s a song that begs Joel, too. Begs him to remember you.

Don’t forget me. You do not know if he hears you. Don’t forget me.

You attempt to follow him beneath the waves.

Don’t forget me.

—-

Against all odds, Joel Miller disembarks from the train to find himself in a farmland so familiar to him. Against all odds, it is three weeks later, and he’s followed all the roads and finds himself home.

He breathes in the smell of wheat under the scorching summer heat. He embraces it. He puts one foot ahead of the other, sea legs no longer present. The ground is too still that it still sometimes unnerves him.

A few meters away, he catches sight of the house. The windows wide open, the breeze making the curtains dance within. And on his porch is a familiar figure that had lowered her book and peered in his direction. He sees her face, and relief encompasses his bones. Sarah.

She’s running to him, yelling, loud and youthful and her face is like the sun. He feels himself smiling, too. The first time in weeks. Miles of walking and sleepless nights fade away with each step you take closer together. Then she’s running to his arms squealing as he embraces her.

Tell me. Is this really then Ithaca?

Finally, the years that separate the little family are slowly bridged. He rebuilds. He tells her stories. He tells her about you. When the sun sets, he tucks Sarah in and kisses her forehead.

Now, here he is. A couple of months that feels like decades have passed him by. He dreamt of you every night for the past three weeks. He sits in his bath, wondering if this was ever how you felt in those long, terrifying days. Did you feel peace, too?

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea, by sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown.

His eyes fall shut. His breath slows.

A moment of peace as he sees your face, smiling at him, languid hands reaching and asking him to follow you.

He hears your voice, singing into his ear as he chuckles.

Until human voices wake us, and we drown.

-

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @boofy1998 @persephone-girl @lunxramour @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

[fatalwa]

I will also join my fellow Ukrainians in sharing how 24th of February 2022 went for us.

I didn't go to sleep that night. The day before I had a check-in call regarding my uni project. All of my group mates did. I don't remember what I was doing so late at night but the fact is - I didn't sleep. My partner was already in bed but still scrolling her phone. Suddenly she sits up and says that russians on social media are saying that "we all will be fucked", and that Ukrainians are commenting on hearing loud bangs in their cities. We sit in silence shocked for a couple of minutes. Then we hear it as well. A loud bang. The kind that shakes the ground. We hear car sirens. A moment passes before we hear another one. I started packing my backpack with my documents and money. My dad says it won't be necessary, that they are just attacking the strategic military buildings. I don't remember how the rest of the night/early morning went. I don't remember if I've slept. In the morning the president had announced that the war has started.

Two weeks later I would leave for Belgium with my partner to not sit on my family's shoulders, to not be a burden. Everything is going relatively well for me: I found a job, I have a place to live, I am not struggling with food. Of course I had to sacrifice my degree for the lack of language and my hobbies for the lack of free time. That is why I don't draw much anymore. I just hope that in the future I will be able to do it again.

Two years passed and I feel like people abroad got used to the war. I am not fully aware of the whole situation but from my side it feels like people are forgetting about us. Like we are receiving less support. Like we are starting to loose. I just hope that it's not true and that it just feels that way.

Though Internet has been really hostile to Ukrainian voices lately. And there is so much misinformation. My partner met a woman near the station who pretended to be Ukrainian to beg for money. She didn't speak any Ukrainian or, for that matter, russian, just English. She didn't expect someone to talk back to her in Ukrainian.

I just hope that we will win the war and it will happen soon. My whole being hurts when I read the news about russian war crimes and the tragedies that just keep happening to my people.

If you have anything to spare, consider donating to the Ukrainian army. Reach out to your government, show up to protests. I'm tired of seeing only Ukrainians doing it. We can't do this alone, we will need everything that we can get.

https://u24.gov.ua/

Слава Україні! Героям слава!

І мирного неба!

[helpami-flaffy]

EPIC THE MUSICAL OPINIONS, VERY OPINIONS, VERY MINE.

IF YOU DON'T WANT SOME NEGATIVITY DON'T READ. THIS IS NOT PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE I SWEAR.

MOSTLY COMPILED AT NIGHT, SOME REVISION.

PLEASE DO NOT COME AT ME.

.....................

After this saga I'm left kind of perplexed about epic.

What is epic trying to say here? What's the musical's stance on ruthlessness?

Because it isn't very clear to me anymore.

Is it bad? Is it good and just? Is it a necessary evil? Is it worth becoming something monstrous just to achieve your goals?

The thing I'm trying to say is:

Is epic a tragedy or a triumph?

Until the vengeance saga I thought it was the former, but now I'm not so sure.

Throughout the story Odysseus takes desicions that either side with what I'll call the 'open arm mentality' or the 'ruthless' mentality.

He gets punished for both a number of times.

He kills Astianax so he doesn't have to fear his future vengeance.

He spares Polyphemus and that leads to 558 men dying.

He appeals to Circe's humanity and that leads her to freeing his men and helping him get to the underworld.

He sacrificed 6 men to Scylla and that leads to 'mutiny' and 'thunder bringer' where the rest of his crew dies and he ends up in calypso's island where she imprisoned him for 7 years.

First act of ruthlessness= good outcome

First act of open arms= bad outcome

Second act of open arms= good outcome

Second act of ruthlessness= bad outcome

(I forgot to add the sirens, that encounter is kinda strange tho.  Ody kills all of them but I wouldn't call that ruthlessness. Ruthlessness is doing whatever needs doing to get what you want. He needed to know how to get home, and killing the sirens after doesn't matter in that context. I guess it's good for future sailors? I'll count this as an altruistic positive I guess)

This breakdown isn't perfect, lots of other things happen and some things Ody does can't really be neatly categorized by this simple metric imo, but I'll continue anyway as it feels to me the story breaks down his actions in a sort of similar dichotomy.

All in all the 'good to bad' ratio seems pretty balanced, right? It's not always ruthlessness that wins the day, and 'open arms' solutions don't always work out.

So why does it feel like we're supposed to root for ruthless Odysseus? Why does it feel like the story wants us to believe that being the monster is a good if 'somewhat sad' outcome?

Why am I saying this? Well, it's 600 strikes.

Actually just- all the vengeance saga.

Why is what Ody does here supposed to be cool and awesome? Because, like, that is absolutely the angle here.

Complete with a, honestly absurd, anime power up and fighting-god-one-on-one moment.

Why does the story break down it's logic,  breaks suspension of disbelief (at least for me), to get Odysseus into a position were he can torture Poseidon into letting him go?

Wich?? Btw should not work??

Why is this how he wins?

Why are the ghosts of his friends and family no longer spectres of regrets for but terrifying promises of death?

What does this say? Was Odysseus wrong about their sacrifice? Was regret ever only a noose around his neck? I'm looking too deeply into this one lol.

In 'get in the water' we even get the obligatory appeal to Poseidon's mercy just to hammer down once again that 'open arms' doesn't work, even tho it's Athena's appeal to her father's mercy that set Odysseus free in the first place.

The saga ends with Poseidon asking Odysseus how he'll sleep at night after all of this and Ody, in admittedly the coldest line ever written on paper, says:

"Next to my wife"

...

This is cool.

Extremely cool even.

But that's kind of the problem I have with it.

The song ends in a badass way. This is meant to be the final zing to seal Odysseus' cool ass victory.

And in all of this, not once, does the story seem to recognize that...well...

Poseidon won.

Hell not even Poseidon recognized it!

I'm not even saying "OoOh if it was realistic Poseidon would have have won!" (Tho yeah, ask me about that, lol)

In the great ideological battle that's at the center of Epic: the musical, Poseidon was the ultimate victor.

Ruthless is what wins at the end, it's what gets Odysseus home. Odysseus might be a monster but he's a victorious one.

I feel people and the musical both don't really acknowledge that.

That even if Poseidon lost the battle he ultimately won the war.

Were is the irony? Where's the bitterness and sorrow? We're Poseidon's bloodied, mocking smirk revelling in his victory?

Is Epic a tragedy or a power fantasy?

[pigeonpeach]

A casket for one but a grave for two

Jingliu x dead foxian fem reader

Random drabble because i haven’t written in too long!!! This isn’t edited so please excuse me if it suck!!!

Also warning: reader is dead :(, desecration of a corpse/ gravesite (Its not sexual) but jingliu misses her wife and digs up her grave to celebrate what should’ve been their anniversary, angst

The night is young, the moon is full land vibrant. Its bright pearlescent colors match what remains in the casket Jingliu digs up, its lid its released as the stench of death washes over. The swordswoman doesn’t falter though, the smell of a skeleton is better than the smell of the battlefield. They’re still dressed in the beautiful hanfu she saw them in. When flesh hung on their skull, a constant pink would linger on their cheeks. They used to smell of the ocean with sea themed perfumes, their hair was always well kept, she’d run her fingers through it when stressed. The hair has since fallen off. But Jingliu isn’t herself anymore. She knows that. Something grows within her. Those cursed yellow leaves climb out if her throat with a heavy and hurtful cough, as if the roots of the ambrosial arbor grew within her lungs and tore at her veins. This day was one tragedy already, years ago, her beloved having passed in wore. Their death… the cause is starting to blur. Jingliu wonders if this cursed disease will rid her of everything, her love, her life, the memories of her wife… What had she done to deserve this cursed fate? She fought valiantly, she held her ground, and the aeons or whoever wrote the details of fate decided to play the cruelest joke on her. That her beloved would lay alone in the ground, and she would be unable to join them… not anymore. Perhaps it was the pain of the roots and leaves growing, perhaps it was the anger and homicidal reaction that drove to such extreme. In her worst moments in life, her wife was there. The sight of her alone would ease tension, her hands would work into her shoulders and her voice was the siren’s call. But she’d never hear it again, she’d never see her again. The mara cannot revive, at least that she knows of. Yingxing’s corpse had been fresh when Dan Feng committed that sin. But there is no muscle ontop of the bones, it’ll do

“Tonight is lovely isn’t it?” Jingliu held the skull of her lover in her hands with the gentleness and fondness she did in life. “Today.. today would be our 40th anniversary..”

“Actually it would be our 100th.” Jingliu could hear her say that in her head.

“It doesn’t matter the number. What matters is just how much we love each other right?” She peered into the skull, trying to mentally piece the flesh onto the bone, the eyes into the socket, the hair into the skin, but it was blurry. She felt a surge of distress, no.. she couldn’t forget. She can’t forget her. She couldn’t protect her to the end the least she can do is firmly protect her memory. Jingliu hissed in pain, clutching her head as it began to spiral with thoughts. A storm brewed, a flame ingited, a endless stream of water filling the room (metaphorically), sowing thd seeds of a rage and berserker that could cause her to further fall into the trap of mara.

“Jingliu~” a voice called, a siren’s melody that cleared the air in a instant. The night was quiet now. Nothing made a sound. Not the heliobi roaming in the gardens, nothing. But the silence didn’t feel threatening, she couldn’t explain it. She looked back at the skull. “Fight as you’ve always had. That is my wish. Do not let my death hold you back.. save them.. for me.. please..” Jingliu’s wife’s final words to her acted like a slap as she held the skull to her chest.

“I avenged you dear.. Hoolay.. he is locked away.. tortured for eternity.. never will he be able to hurt your people again.. you didn’t die for nothing.. I promise you.. I did it..” Jingliu wept silently, staring at the moon, as if to pray.

“I love you.. Jingliu..”

“I love you too, for eternities and centuries.. my love will never die even if I someday become a wretched beast.. I promise even then will your voice be my medicine…” Jingliu pressed a kiss to the skull, her lips only meeting hard snd cold teeth. She laid back on the ground, the skull on her chest, wanting to enjoy this peace for a little bit longer

[unspokenlly]

IDOL AU! (Oshi No Ko AU) - Twisted Wonderland x Reader (Part 1)

(this post was inspired by @merakiui 's idol!darling au!)

[ reader is female ]

i'm not sure if anyone has heard of this manga (soon to be anime), but it's called Oshi No Ko! it involves an idol named Ai Hoshino who is a talented and beautiful idol (with starry eyes). however, she struggles with love as she herself has never loved nor has been 'loved' (this isn't a spoiler as it had been shown in the sypnosis before, but she was also pregnant with twins at the age of 16). she also says that a 'lie' or lying is a form of love as well which bring the thought of..

Idol! darling who is like Ai Hoshino. she is an exceptional idol who catches the hearts of many, alluring many with her eyes. however, she struggles to actually love despite saying she loves her fans. she dreams of wanting to love and wants her happiness to be true. imagine, twst cast getting their hearts captured by her charismatic self, but there are those who are also wary of her once they come to know that she has a (lot of) secret(s)..

i imagine a lot of twst cast would discover her secret but i'll just narrow it down to a few characters for now and give my two cents about them!

characters involved: azul, idia, vil, mentions of rook, riddle, cater, floyd, jade

warning: themes of yandere, teenage pregnancy, blackmail, stalkerish behaviours.

azul, who discovers there was something about her and the way she brings herself up. she was definitely talented. a beauty. someone who would be a great asset to future investments and businesses.. but what's this? he discovers that she's not what she seems to be? she's an idol made up of lies. who wears a mask of a perfect idol, to become the embodiment of pure? and a mother too? to twins? how very interesting! once azul discovers this and uses it against idol!darling, he thought he'd be able to use it as a means to pull her into a contract (blackmail) but instead, she smiles? 

"Oh, that's quite troublesome! Hehe, I guess you discovered that part of me, huh? Well.. yes, lying is morally and socially unacceptable but.." The way her eyes stared right into his, irises that twinkled like the stars above and orbs drawn like a glyph.. "In the eyes of many, idols are creatures who shine as bright as the cosmos, who love and are loved…" Oh, sevens. 

".. And I am an idol. Lying is a form of love too. An idol like me who's at the very top will keep on lying again and again so I can keep everyone from the stage happy!" Azul unknowingly gulped a bile from his throat, watching the idol who shined as if she was on the stage performing in front of him. 

"Still though.. For you to discover that I'm actually a mother… It's kinda depressing that the secret is out of the bag, but… no matter what, I'll still do whatever it takes to continue being an idol! I still haven't achieved my dream of being happy.. I'm quite greedy, after all."

And he was completely entranced. a victim to a siren's calls, except this one was made up of lies. 

for idia, i imagine the aspect he liked about her was her eyes the most. her cute disposition and how refreshing her personality was. even though she was a bit childish, there was something about her that was not at all childish. so when he found out she wasn't actually what she seemed to be, he thought he was gonna be repulsed by her 'fakeass' but it turns out he found himself falling for her more. like a character from a tragedy-tagged story, there was so much depth to her that he was just itching to find. 

idia was a genius. he can use any means to find her secrets. hacking into streets cameras to stalk her, finding out so many things about her that even fans wouldnt know but most of all… her biggest secret. for now though, he was satisfied. he had bought several merchandise of her to her lightsticks, mugs and even standee and perhaps, for now those were enough to keep him occupied of his growing love for her.

there was something about idol!darling that vil found himself suspicious about… he was in the shooting of a film, and there was darling who was casted as a side character for the movie. at first, he admits she was beautiful, even more so than the main protagonist of the film. so when he approached her out of pure curiousity and because of the memories of a certain hunter practically raving about an idol who caught his eye, he wasnt suprised (yet mildly disappointed) to find out that despite her beauty, her personality was unpolished. she spoke with no professionalism whatsoever. a bumpkin like epel.

however, she was a joyful one who always had a smile on. but that wasn't the biggest aspect of her whole person. she was like a present. waiting to be unwrapped to reveal what's inside. he felt that she had layers on her that she hid, but he didnt mind. idols, celebrities, the showbiz industry was like that after all. however, idol!darling was someone who shone with those layers. layers of appealing gift wrapping. and vil wondered if those lovely, hidden truths of hers will show what she truly is one day. would she still be shining like a star? as lovely as what everyone makes her out to be?

it's questions like those that left vil pondering if this were the thoughts that ran through rook's head as he sang poems and verses about the 'idol who was the reincarnation of the first star', never missing a concert or event that involved her. he wanted to scoff at himself, and perhaps blame rook for talking his ear off about this bumpkin of an idol. but who could blame vil when idol!darling is just so lovely.

riddle who became interested in idol!darling after he saw a few of his dormmates doing those strange dances to a video of an idol on-screen who was singing. after telling his dormmates off, he became curious at this idol with stars in her eyes rather than her music and performance. no, it was her own self that he became curious about. the following days after watching several videos about her and listening to her music, he started humming her songs while reviewing or stare long at his phone while wearing a set of earphones while he was sitting in the courtyard… alone, he thought until cater discovers him. cater, who had become a fan of idol!darling for a long time and had bought tickets for her upcoming concert. 

cater, who discovered the cute idol from his recommendations as his playlist was playing high-streamed music. who became fond of her for her appearances in entertainment shows or live audience games. her 'charming' personality that captured his heart. he would invite riddle and trey to the concert as he won an extra set of tickets for himself and his club members!

floyd and jade, who fell in love with her at first sight for her, well, everything! ever since they discovered her and came to know more about her thru those concerts they attend and videos they stream and watch,...there was something about her that they just oh so want to pick apart, but couldn't! her declarations of love always left a stuffy feeling in their heart.. in a dark, twisted, way. why, she is just so, so, lovely.. they never missed a show! never. even if it meant making a deal with azul for work. but nowadays, it seems they didnt even have to do so for azul would go with them to those events!

THIS TOOK ME ABOUT 3 HRS TO MAKE INCLUDING THE HEADERS AND BANNERS, THIS HAD BEEN IN MY HEAD EVER SINCE OSHI NO KO TRAILER CAME OUT and because the song 'Idol' by Yoasobi had come out (unofficially in Youtube). if you guys have any thoughts about this, feel free to send an Ask!

this is just part 1 of the au.

[lokisprettygirl]

Utopia (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x female reader) (Non Canon AU) (18+)

Read chapter 1 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Summary: Your life takes a turn for the worst as Queen Utopia sinks to the bottom of the ocean.

Warning: 18+ death and destruction that comes from a ship wreckage, smut, sex, menstrual sex, unprotected sex. Some inconsistency with ship sinking, i researched as much as I could

For a moment you felt numb, the wailing of the siren, the voice of the captain, the red light blaring in front of you made you feel as if you were in a nightmare. The constant banging on your door made you snap out of the trance so you quickly got out of the bed and dressed yourself up as quickly as you could, it was cold outside so you needed to put on warmer clothes.

As you opened the door you saw daemon looking absolutely terrified “Are You deaf? Let's go” he grabbed your arm and walked you through the sea of people swarming everywhere, it was chaotic to say the least.

“Daemon what's going on?” you asked him so he turned his head to look at you, the panicked look on your face made him pull you aside.

“It's sinking…ship is sinking, we need to find our mates and go catch a lifeboat..they trained us for this remember?”

He said to you but you still looked at him all perplexed and dumbfounded. Your mother feared something like this would happen but you made fun of her for watching Titanic a bit too many times.

“But It was all hypothetical and it wasn't supposed to happen..it's not supposed to happen” you mumbled nervously, voice trembled as you spoke so he sighed.

“Look around you ..it's happening so let's get going yes?” he said to you so you nodded before you hugged him tightly for a moment.

“Thanks for not leaving me behind” he chuckled as you said that and hugged you warmly to comfort you.

“Are you joking girl?” He dragged you to the elevator but they were already turned off for safety purposes so both of you stepped downstairs in order to find Cole, Aemond, Emma and most of all lily. You two did find the trio but Lily wasn't there, the wifi connection was blown and obviously there was no cellular service so there was no way of calling her. You could see how terrified Daemon was at the thought of something horrible happening to her.

“Maybe she's already on a safety boat” Cole suggested as the group ran to the uppermost deck, a part of you still felt numb as you looked around and everyone was just running to the same direction, there were more than a thousand people on the ship and considering how Utopia was currently in the middle of the sea the chances of another ship arriving seemed bleak, you couldn't help but wonder if there were enough life boats.

“Titanic was a real tragedy” you mumbled under your breath so Daemon looked at you.

“What?”

“It was real, ships sink ..they sink..it's going to sink –”

“You really need to calm down” he said to you before he turned to the group “Get yourselves on the boat.. they'll try to prioritize the passengers but force your way in somehow”

Daemon took his phone out of his pocket and there was a voice message from Lily that she had probably left before the wifi blew away.

“Daemon something is happening..I'm in the cargo area with Danny and…water is filling in”

Daemon was immediately alarmed as soon as he has heard the message

“Mate.. she's in the lowest deck with a passenger..I'm gonna go get her” he voiced out loud so everyone glared at him.

“I'm sure she's not there anymore..water has got in already”

Aemond told him and Daemon's heart sank, he would never forgive himself if she indeed was there and he was leaving her behind to save his own ass.

“Just get on the boat ..take care of the girls. I'll be right back yeah?” he said to Aemond very firmly but Aemond seemed stunned so daemon grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Are you listening to me or not? You're going to take care of them and yourself, you hear me?” he said again so Aemond nodded.

“Yeah”

Daemon looked at you for a brief moment and handed you his life jacket because he hadn't put it on just yet and he didn't want to waste one more second. He ran inside again and you watched him disappear amidst the roaring crowd of people.

“We should wait for him” you turned as you spoke to the group but Cole shook his head.

“We need to go.. at least get a spot on a boat and then we can stall”

Cole grabbed Emma's hand and she agreed that they needed to go because the boats were filling out quickly and all of you knew that there weren't enough boats.

“I'm not leaving without him..them.. Daemon and Lily.. we should wait” you insisted again as you looked at Aemond but he disagreed as well.

“We need to go”

Before they could say anything else you turned around and ran inside to go get them, you heard Emma calling out for you but her voice faded more and more the farther you got away from them.

What if he was stuck inside and needed help?

He waited for you..he was at your door and he didn't leave without you so you weren't going to leave him behind either.

You ran downstairs and met Dalton on the way, he was screaming at you to go back with him but you kept running. The ship tilted to the side due to the uneven weight distribution because the water was filling in rapidly, your eyes teared up as you felt so utterly terrified in the moment. This wasn't how you wanted to die, all alone and scared out of your mind, as the panic surged you grabbed the railing of the stairs and took a deep breath to calm down. You had to find daemon.

The lower you got the more eerie it seemed, the quietness was chilling, electricity was going in and out and you were practically alone on a ship because all the members were heading for the uppermost deck to flee via the lifeboats.

When you reached the lower decks you realized that water was starting to breach already. You stepped further downstairs and your heart felt still for a moment as you saw Daemon standing half way into the water at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the cargo hold, he was perhaps wondering whether he should tread ahead in the dark. What was Lily even doing there? Access to the cargo area was strictly for the crew that worked the area and unless she was fucking someone from the crew who wanted to show off for her, she had no business being here.

“Daemon” you called out his name as you stepped downstairs, his eyes were bloodshot red with tears and his skin had gone pale.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

His jaw clenched as he questioned you, shivers ran down your spine as you dipped your feet into the cold water.

“We need to go..maybe she is already up there..maybe she left.. ..that message was sent an hour ago, we were still sleeping in our beds” you tried to reason with him and his eyes welled up.

“But what if she's down there, what if she is waiting?” there was a sense of hopelessness in his voice that made you feel sorry for him.

“You can't go there Daemon..it's dark..we don't even know-- “ he turned his head to look at you as you said that, the determination on his face was enough to let you know that he won't stop no matter how much you'd try to convince him.

“Fine..Put this on at least” you turned him towards you as you began to put the life jacket on him as fast as you could..

“Run back darling..you don't have much time” he said to you but you shook your head in response.

“I'm not going without you.. okay? Let's go down there, let's try to find her and then we can leave”

He looked at you a bit shocked as you said that, you had known him for more than a few weeks, why were you endangering your life for him?

“Why are you being so fucking stupid?” He raised his voice at you so you glared at him.

“Are you going to waste these valuable seconds calling me names?” You matched the pitch of his voice so he groaned in response.

“You're so stupid..if you die it's going to be on me”

“No if I die then it's going to be on me okay? Move now” you said to him firmly so he sighed.

Lights were flickering at the other end of the hallway..as you both stepped deeper you realized that water level was increasing very quickly.

“This is ridiculous” you mumbled under your breath so he snickered.

“You're ridiculous for being so fucking brave and so goddamn precious” his voice held anger but there was a softness, perhaps he was taken aback by your compassion or maybe he thought you were a real clinger for willing to die because of him, you didn't think you'd make it out alive to figure that out.

“It's cold..it's fucking cold”

Your teeth chattered as you spoke, it was like taking an ice bath but worse.

The sudden scream you let out made Daemon worried so he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“What is it?”

“I feel something.. something is touching my legs. It's–” you couldn't even finish your words as you swam away from whatever was touching your leg.

“I'll go down and check okay?” He said to you so you nodded, as he went underwater he saw a body, it was of a middle-aged man, probably a crew.

As he came up he gasped, all of this felt unreal to him, there was no way all of this was actually happening to him.

“Daemon there's no possibility she's here” you said to him so he hummed in response, she must have gotten out and she must have made it safely. She had to.

And he was grateful if she had but then there was a tiny little voice in his head that made him ponder over the fact that if she had made it up safely then why didn't she come for him?

She didn't even look for him?

He yelled out her name a bunch of times so you did the same and in response you only heard the sound of the ship creaking and breaking down every minute, as it went pitch dark you gasped in fear so Daemon reached closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

Both of you were submerged in the water to your necks now.

“Let's go..” he mumbled softly as he kissed your forehead and your eyes welled up again..

It took a minute to swim back to the stairs and much to your horror the water was now breaching the lower deck where you two had your cabins, it was only a matter of time before this ship would be completely underneath the ocean.

He grabbed your hand as you both ran towards the uppermost deck but you had to stop in between because you were going to pass out from being so out of breath. All you heard around you was the voices of the crew asking the passengers to calm down and wait for their turns while the passengers were just screaming to get past each other and take the first lifeboat they could find.

The horror you were imagining in your heads was nothing compared to what you witnessed when you went to the uppermost deck, all the lifeboats were filled to capacity and had already departed.

As Daemon separated from you to go look for the others you walked closer to the railing and looked down only to find hundreds of people swimming in the ocean, the water was cold and a storm was about to set in soon so the chances of those lifeboats not returning to take the rest of you was extremely high.

“I can't find them,” Daemon mumbled as he came running back to you.

“Maybe they found a spot” you said to him so he nodded.

Tears kept rolling down your cheeks and he was completely silent too as he witnessed people struggling to stay afloat in the water in such weather.

“We are going to die aren't we?”

“Don't say that”

“It's going to happen” you mumbled again so he shook his head.

“I can't die..I'm only 27”

“That's worse because you're a musician, so you'll join the 27 club..I don't even get to be in that club because I'm 26..I'm going to die and there would be no clubs for me..” he was silent for a moment before he chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him in order to provide a semblance of comfort and safety because both of those things were going to get snatched away from you two sooner or later.

The ship was slowly sinking into the depths, and those who still remained aboard knew their own fate was sealed. You looked around and people were just holding onto each other, some of them were crying, some were getting hysterical in shock while the rest stayed purely numb.

There were still some passengers on the board and you couldn't put yourself in their shoes, you came on the ship for a job and to get away from your boring life but these people were here for a week.. for fun, for some perhaps it was the much awaited trip of their lifetime and all of their hopes was going to sink along with this ship

Dreams were going to get shattered, families were about to get ruined and all you felt in that moment was complete and utter numbness.

“Don't let go of my hands alright?” Daemon mumbled softly in your ear as he kissed your temple, he was scared too but he was much better at hiding it then you. When you didn't answer him he tightened his grip around you.

“Don't give up please..you can't give up..you hear me?” he said to you firmly so you nodded even though tears were flowing down your eyes continuously.

The vessel tilted with each passing moment of time before it broke down and began its descent into the deep down water.

Screaming was all you heard as the ship took its final descent into the ocean, you didn't let go of his hands like you had promised, you closed your eyes and left it to the fate, if this was how you were going to die, then be it.

Perhaps you could have survived the ship wreckage, you remembered floating above the ocean on a piece of debris and Daemon was there too. Right in front of you, he wasn't dumb to stay in the cold water when pieces of debris large enough to afloat him were all around him. He still didn't let go of your hands though and for a moment you believed that both of you would survive but then a towering wave rose up from the bottom of the sea.

As the wave drew nearer, you felt your eyes widen with sheer terror. Never before had you witnessed anything as horrifying as this moment, not even when you witnessed the ship sinking. Fear consumed you as you struggled to grasp the enormity of the situation, your heart racing and your hands shaking.

And that was the last thing you clearly remembered before you had slipped into the darkness.

Perhaps you were dead but you remembered struggling to stay afloat as the storm and the rain and the strong waves attacked the survivors of the Queen Utopia. It was nature's wrath and you had no idea what you had done to deserve it but you did.

Your chest was burning as you opened your eyes and you found Daemon watching you with teary eyes. There were bruises on his face, his clothes were drenched and torn from several places but he really looked like an angel in the morning sunlight.

Did you die? Was this heaven?

“Thank the fucking god..oh dear” he cried as he whispered in your ear, his arm clutched onto your weak battered body, you felt the crusty sand underneath you and as you looked around you saw the palm trees all around you.

“Daemon?”

You took his name so he pulled away from you.

“Don't speak”

“We are not dead..how come we are not dead” you looked at him dumbfounded but he didn't have a response for you. He was as surprised by the knowledge as you were.

He regained consciousness at the edge of the shore and looked around only to find himself amidst several deceased bodies. He didn't know how any of you were alive but it was nothing short of a miracle.

“Darling..my darling..when I make you stand up I need you to not freak out alright?” Your eyes welled up as he said that.

“What is it? Am i brutally mangled..I feel pain all over..I'm mangled aren't i?” You asked him so he looked at you from head to toe, there were several cuts and bruises the same as he had suffered but miraculously the rest of you seemed fine.

“You're fine..just don't freak out” he helped you stand up and as you looked in your surrounding you wanted to scream but it didn't come out, there were several bodies lying face down on the edge of the shore.

“Oh god” your voice choked as you placed your hands on your mouth to stifle the scream.

“Look I know this is..the worst possible thing that could happen to us but we have made it so far..i don't know how or why ..but we have” he told you as he grabbed your by the shoulders and made you look at him

“Okay..okay”

“What do you remember from the training sesh …repeat for me please”

“Umm okay..umm fresh water..we need to find water and shelter and-”

“Food..we need to find food until they rescue us alright”

“Who's going to rescue us daemon..where are we?” You asked him a very stupid question considering he was in the same situation as you were, none of you were prepared for this, none of you imagined for your lives to turn upside down so terribly, it was supposed to be a fun job for both of you.

“Someone will find us” he mumbled under his breath to assure himself more than you so you nodded.

Sun was really strong in the daylight but you had a feeling as the evening would arrive the temperature would begin to drop, fortunately for you two there were coconut trees all around you, it was a coconut paradise so collecting them won't be that difficult however it wasn't really an easy task to open them up with no tools on hand.

There were mango trees deeper into the woods so that was a bit of a relief as well for now.

The rest of the day was spent building a shack from the debris Daemon and you had found in the water and like a caveman he had managed to catch fish from the ocean, you really wouldn't have survived on this uninhabited island without him. The fear of being alone would have been enough to make you give up.

“How did you do that?” You asked him as he emerged out of the water with a makeshift spear and a medium sized fish hung on it.

“Watched it in a movie”

You couldn't help but chuckle as he said that. When you two sat down to collect your breaths, the adrenaline and shock from the incident slowly began to dwindle down and the reality was sinking in..

“It won't be easy to make a fire “ he sighed as he sat down but then he tapped his pocket and pulled out a lighter from there.

“Seriously you just had it in there?” you asked him so he gave you a sweet smile. You were worried about the cuts on his body but then you had them as well.

“I smoke.. Lily always warned me that smoking would kill me someday..irony huh?”

“Is it even going to work?” You asked him so he flipped the fancy lighter and sure as well it was working just fine.

“Okay save it..save it..making a fire out of nothing is almost impossible” you said hurriedly so he nodded.

“Eventually we'd need to go fish fir supplies”

“What do you mean?” You asked him so he sighed.

“Check those bodies…maybe they have something on them”

“Yeah”

“I'll do it.. don't worry” he mumbled as he noticed the crushed look on your face.

“No I'll go with you ..I mean they're dead, i'm sure they won't mind”

He was quiet for a moment before he stood up and gave you his hand so you grabbed it and stood up with him, both of you collected the branches and dry leaves from the forest to make a bonfire. This bonfire would not only provide warmth and shelter, but it would serve as a beacon of hope in the darkness, potentially increasing the chances of being spotted by a searching helicopter if they were looking for the survivors.

“It's charred, you're burning it” you couldn't help but giggle as Daemon attempted to roast the fish on the fire.

“Why don't you do it ..aren't you the chef here?”

���Just take out the eyes the next time…eyes freak me out” you groaned as you took the wooden stick he was using as a skewer “I am not a fish person..I don't like seafood” you mumbled softly so he smiled.

“Well apologies honey..this is all we could afford ay”

Once the fish looked perfectly pink from the inside you placed it on the banana leaf you had collected, unfortunately the bananas itself weren't ripe yet but you figured if worst comes to worse you'd have to eat unripe bananas. There were worse things on this island than unripe bananas.

“Perfectly seasoned” he mumbled and it made you smile, the sea water fishes tend to have higher sodium in their bodies so it wasn't really surprising.

“Everything tastes perfect when you're starving”

It was now pitch black, and the only source of light was the reflection of the stars in the dark ocean and the fire that was still burning. You didn't know the exact time, but you knew it must have been well into the next day. To avoid laying on the grainy sand, you gathered a bunch of dry leaves and placed them down like a mat. Daemon also joined you as you rested on the makeshift bed.

He really was hoping Lily and others had made it safe but he still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that you went looking for him knowing how dangerous it was. When he met you he could just tell that you were a good girl but he wasn't expecting you to be so fucking loyal that too with a friend, that was the single most heroic thing he had witnessed in his life which made him feel even worse when he looked back at that drunken night.

“I'm just going to rest my eyes for a moment” you mumbled as you closed your eyes so he turned his head to look at you, thanking his stars that not only were you alive but also had somehow managed to be around him. He couldn't have gone through this without you.

“They will find us, right?” You asked him so he hummed in response.

That was the hope.

His mum always told him to never lose hope in terrible situations. But how long would you two be able to keep your hopes high and spirits up?

Because it's been three weeks since you had been stranded on that forsaken island and nobody had turned up for you two.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

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@mcufan72 @123forgottherest @shuichiakainx

[wandering-winchesters]

Tragedy

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 3,626 Summary: The reader is used to hunting solo, yet this solo hunt does not turn out quite like she had hoped. She is required to call on Dean and Sam after she is injured. Trigger Warnings: injury, firearms, blood, death. SPN level violence Requested: No A/N: I hope you enjoy this, I had fun writing it. Please let me know what you think. :)

Masterlist

I let out a sigh, tossing my laptop onto the motel bed, frustrated didn’t even begin to cover it. I had spent the last several hours searching through local records, looking for any deaths that fit the profile of the ghosty murderer floating around town, but nothing lined up. I wished Sam was here, he would’ve been incredibly helpful searching for an answer. But I had split off from them a couple weeks ago, returning to solo hunts, like the old days. They had both argued with me, tried to convince me to stay with them., but I had insisted on going off on my own again. I had to prove to myself that I still could, I felt as if I was slipping into a pit of dependance and a lack of self sufficiency. 

I had spent the last six months hunting with the two Winchester boys, helping them tackle numerous cases, which was nice. However, it terrified me how comfortable I was around them, I had told myself that I wouldn’t ever get too close to someone ever again. But with them, it was too easy to fall into comfortable dependency. Especially Dean. God, Dean Winchester. His eyes could pierce my soul if I let them, they appeal to me like a siren appeals to helpless sailors. I couldn’t resist him when I was around him, causing me to make stupid choices, I went with his gut over my own and it left me feeling helpless. It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t doing anything intentionally, I just couldn’t help but fall further in love with the green eyed hunter every moment I spent with him. Which is exactly why I left, love had never come easy for me. I had lost my parents as a teenager and branched off on my own, evading the torment that would have greeted me had I gone to live with my Uncle. I never went to college, I hunted. Yet while on one of those hunts, I met Ian. Ian had been the love of my life, before he met an unfortunate end in a terrible car accident, eerily similar to the way my parents died. Death, followed me and those that I let in and loved. 

So I had sworn off love, friendship and anything else that let people into my life. That was until the two Winchesters had busted down the door to the old house, guns drawn, expecting to find me in the captivity of a werewolf den. Instead, they found me. My own weapon drawn, the body of a dead werewolf at my feet. I wish I had been recording that moment, the looks on their faces were utterly priceless. I had agreed to help them on one more hunt, that turned into three, which turned into six months worth. I was getting too comfortable and I just had to get out. That’s how I wound up alone in this motel, attempting to crack the case in this podunk town. I laid down on the musty motel bed, pushing my laptop onto the far side and leaving enough room for me to lay down. I stare at the cracks in the ceiling, following the trail they make and trying to distinguish where one starts and another one ends. Then it hits me, I have been looking in the wrong place this whole time. All of the deaths had occurred at the local bar and I had assumed it was a vengeful spirit, but what if it wasn’t? What if it was a, shit- what are they called? I grab my laptop hurriedly pulling up the lore I had been reading earlier, my eyes scanning the words quickly, skimming until I land on what I was looking for. A wraith. They had all died under mysterious circumstances, but they all had the same wound on their forehead. A small, circular incision. It had to be a wraith, but who was it? There was one bartender, he was my number one suspect. I glance at the clock, it’s not too late to go now. I ensure it is loaded with silver bullets before I tuck my gun into the holster, placing it at the small of my back and covering it with my leather jacket. I glance around my room once more making sure that I am not leaving anything behind. I send Sam a quick text, updating him as to my suspicions, he had texted me earlier in the day just checking in with me, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to keep him updated. 

The drive to the small little dive bar was short and uneventful. I checked to make sure my gun was still in place as I opened the door to the interior, the hinges in need of help judging by the loud shriek of protest they gave off as I opened it. I take in my surroundings, making note of the few people inside the bar. There were five, the bartender and four other customers not including myself. The bartender glances my way, gesturing that I can sit anywhere, he’s an unassuming man. His hair neat and well groomed, yet everything else about him is a mystery, we’ll call him blondie. I take a seat at the corner of the bar, my back to a wall and my field of view encompassing the majority of the room. 

“What can I get you?” He asks, setting a coaster down in front of me. I consider him carefully, trying to determine if he was a threat. I order a beer and a water, fully prepared to sit back and wait everyone else out. The television is the loudest sound in the bar, conversations around me hushed and sparse. Most people too focused on their drinks or the television to be deep in conversation. That’s how the next hour goes, I sip my beer and observe the people around me, watching and waiting. I pull out my phone and see a text and a missed call.

    -Missed call, 9:53 P.M. Sam Winchester 

    -10:13 P.M., From Dean Winchester- Sammy said you found a wraith? Want some backup? They can be tricky bastards. 

An unconscious smile pricks my lips, the concern in his text obvious. I respond with a brief thanks, but no thanks and send Sammy another text asking if everything is okay. 

A few of the other people in the room had left by this point, leaving just myself, the blonde man behind the bar and one other guy, who appeared to be in his mid thirties. I drained the last sip of my beer, setting the bottle down on the surface of the bar. I rolled my shoulders back, my upper back starting to ache from the lack of support provided by the stool that I had been sitting on for the last while. I am taken aback by another beer being set down in front of me, I hadn’t ordered it. The confusion must be clear on my face, because the bar tender gestures to the man a few seats away from me. “It’s from him.” Blondie says, a small smile pulling at his features, which confuses me further. I glance once more to the one other customer in the bar and I find his eyes are already fixed on me, dark and focused. 

“Thanks.” I mutter, raising my beer towards him, suspicion heavy in my voice. For whatever reason, this rubs me the wrong way. The environment in the room had changed and every bone in my body was screaming danger. My gut said this was about to get bad. 

“I figured you deserved another beer before you meet your accidental death. We knew you were a hunter from the second you pulled into town. It’s a pity, you’re too pretty to die this young. Too bad.”  His words hit me like a brick to the face, my eyes close and I take a deep breath. This was it, it wasn’t one wraith it was two. In that moment, I regretted leaving the safety of numbers. Had Sam and Dean been here, it would’ve been three to two. Not two to one, with me on the losing team. I blink once more, taking one more deep breath, the kind that makes your lungs scream from too much oxygen and I hurl my beer bottle at the bartenders head. This action buying me a few seconds, enough to get off the stool and anchor my feet on the old wooden floor. Nevertheless, it wasn’t enough. Blondie had stumbled back from the impact of my beer smacking off the side of his head, however that had given the other wraith the opportunity to close the distance between us. His fist collided with the corner of my jaw he then proceeded to throw me into the hard surface of the bar. I grunt, the sheer force that he had thrown me with enough to knock the air out of my lungs. This hunt was about to go down terribly, I could handle one wraith on my own, but two? I don’t know if I could manage to take out both of them. I can already feel the throbbing in my jaw from his blow and I am dreading how I will feel in the morning, if I make it to the morning. I rest my elbows on the bar top, using my momentum to kick my feet into his chest and send him flying backwards. I use the gap I have created to pull my gun from the waistband of my pants, aim and fire a silver bullet right between his eyes. He drops, dead weight. 

“NO! You’re going to pay for that, you bitch!” Blondie yells, his eyes trained on his friend who had just fallen, dead, to the floor of the bar. I turn to face him, my gun pointed directly at him. He snarls, his attention turned towards me. For whatever reason, I hesitate, my finger doesn’t pull the trigger and I don’t end him. A complete mistake, he closes the distance between us faster than I can comprehend and sends my gun clattering to the floor. His hands shoving me backwards, causing me to stumble and fall to the floor. It happens in a matter of seconds, seconds I cannot even process. My gun is no longer in my hands, but it is clutched in his grip. He points it towards me and fires, it hits me directly in the side. A scream leaves my lips, but I don’t have time to process what just happened because his body is now on top of mine, his anger clear and pulsating through him. My hands come up to defend my face, pushing him away with all of my strength, but he is stronger.  I wrap my fingers around his wrist, knowing what is to follow. The spike in his wrist is already extended and it is clear that he intends to send it straight through my skull. 

“Any last words?” He asks, his mouth set into a sneer, his fingers just brushing my forehead preparing to send the spike through my forehead. 

I grit my teeth, every nerve in my body screaming, adrenaline pumping and thoughts rushing through me. I laugh, bitter and cold and It catches him off guard. That slight hesitation is all I need to get the upper hand, I slide my hand up from where I was gripping his arm. I grab onto the spike extended from his wrist and wrench it backwards with all of my strength, effectively breaking it in two. His scream sends shivers down my spine, the spike still clutched tightly in my fist. I pull the knife from where I keep it hidden around my neck and drive it through his skull, much like he had intended to do to me. His full weight falls onto me and I cry out in pain, his body crushing the oxygen out of my lungs and the bullet wound in my side is throbbing like no other. I manage to slide out from underneath of him, slowly and agonizingly. I scoot myself backwards towards the wall, finally reaching it and I slump back against it. I look down at the hand I had pressed to the gun shot wound on my side and wince, it’s not a pretty sight. Crimson has soaked through the white t-shirt I was wearing, a lot of blood by the looks of it. My head is spinning, either from blood loss or the blow to the head, I wasn’t sure which one. I cover my mouth as a coughing fit wracks my body and when I pull my hand away there are traces of blood there too. Fuck. This really wasn’t good. Before I could even register what I was doing, I had pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Dean. He picks up on the second ring. 

“How’s it going sweetheart? Did you change your mind about wanting help with the wraiths?” He asks, his tone cheery, I can hear the roar of the Impala in the background and it brings a slight smile to my face. I must have remained silent for longer than I thought because Dean speaks again, his voice serious and concern flecked throughout. “Y/N, are you okay?” 

“Mmm, I took out the wraiths, but they got me good too. Any chance you’re nearby?” I groan, trying to reposition myself in such a way that I can apply better pressure to the wound in my side. I can hear the Impala accelerating, as Dean responds. “Shit. We are twenty minutes out from town, figured we’d surprise you. Where’s the bar?” I manage to give him brief directions, doing my best to recall where exactly I was. 

“I’m so tired Dean.” I whisper, the phone beginning to slip from my hand and away from my ear. 

“Hey, no, don’t do that. You don’t get to do that, you hear me? You stay with me, talk to me. I am almost there sweetheart.” He responds and I can hear the panic rising in his voice but its too late. Every breath is a battle, holding my phone to my ear is impossible. The amount of strength it requires is simply too much. I watch as it clatters to the floor, my eyes slowly blinking shut. I slump forward, the world around me fading into black. 

—

I vaguely notice voices, irritating voices drawing me back towards consciousness. I try my damndest to ignore them, the more I focus on them the greater the pain is flowing through my body. I hear my name being yelled, my shoulders behind jostled and my body being laid flat on a hard wooden surface. My head is placed onto something soft and I take that as permission to sleep. Yet I don’t get to do that, hands grab my face pulling me back into consciousness. 

“Y/N, hey, oh thank God, look at me Y/N.” Dean is leaning over me grim faced, his hand pressed tightly against my rips holding something against it. I wince, trying to pull his hand away but he stops me. Sam’s face swims into view as well, his hand cradling the back of my head. 

“Dean.” I sigh, my voice weak and seemingly coming from someone other than myself. “Doesn’t seem too bad, does it?” I ask, laughing slightly before grimacing from the pain that causes. His face is pale, eyes searching for the answer to my question, he doesn’t have to answer, I know it doesn’t look good. 

“Im going to get you out of here, I promise. You’re gonna be okay.” He says, lifting my shirt so he can tie the bandage around me as tight as he can. He picks me up, a yell leaving my lips in the process. I can hear him whispering reassurances and apologies as he carries me out to the Impala. It all feels like a dream, as if I am watching from above as all of this happens. I drift in and out of the darkness the entire car ride, the whole way into the motel room. Until eventually, it all fades to black once again. 

—

“I don’t know what else to do Sammy, the bullet went all of the way through. We stopped the bleeding and stitched her up. But that was hours ago! She still hasn’t woken back up.” Deans voice sounds nearby, anxious and completely grating on my nerves at the moment.

“Would you shut up! ‘M trying to sleep here.” I groan, the throbbing of my nerves returning like a wave of pain rushing over me. I hear a flurry of movement, before the bed sinks down next to me and I can feel a hand rest against the side of my face. I open my eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the harsh lighting a stark comparison to the darkness of sleep I was used to. When my eyes his, he falls apart. Tears spring to his eyes and he breaks down before my very eyes. His mouth opens and closes multiple times, searching for something, anything to say. 

“Dean, Im okay.” I whisper, my voice raspy and aching in my throat. He shakes his head, his eyes still trained on my own. 

“You weren’t, we almost lost you so many times Y/N.” His words sink in slowly, understanding for his reaction lands on me in droves. 

“I’m sorry I worried you. Thank you for getting to me in time.” I reach my hand up and touch the side of his face, surprised when he leans into my touch. 

“He made the twenty minute drive into an eight minute one.” Sam says, and for the first time I realize that he’s sitting in the chair a couple of feet from the bed. I chuckle lightly, unsurprised, Dean was always able to drive way too fast when he needed to, a talent almost. 

We spend the next few hours talking, questions being thrown at me from every angle. I do my best to answer them, but exhaustion quickly settles in. Sam notices and mentions to Dean that they should let me get some sleep, there’s a slight argument over who will stay with me. Much to my surprise, Dean is insistent upon staying himself. Sam gives me a quick hug and excuses himself from the room, which leaves Dean and I alone. Oh so alone. It wasn’t the first time we had shared a room, but it felt completely different this time. An uncomfortable silence hangs between us, neither one of us wanting to be the one that breaks it. I shift my body, trying to prop myself up further in bed. A decision I regret as soon as I flex the wrong muscle and am greeted by a screaming pain in my side. I throw my head back, my mouth opening in a silent yell. Deans hands are on me in an instant, helping me settle into a more comfortable position. I give him a grateful smile and expect the silence to continue, but it doesn’t. 

“You’re never doing this again, you hear me? You’re only ever hunting with us from now on. I could’t bear it when I found you like that and I definitely couldn’t bear it if it ever happened again.” Dean says quietly, his eyes trained on the floor. I’m quiet for a minute, considering my response carefully, unsure where his words were coming from. Dean wasn’t controlling, so it wasn’t that. Concern was evident, but I didn’t think that was enough to spur him to make that declaration. 

“Dean, I am really okay. It was a bad turn of events, but I have been hunting for years on my own and I made it this far. You don’t need to worry about me, ill be-“ He cuts me off, his voice raised and his hands running through his already disheveled hair. 

“You don’t get it, do you? Ever since that night, six months ago, I have worried about you. I care about you, Y/N, so worrying comes with the territory. For a time, I thought you cared about me in that way. But then you left. You just left and I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I followed after you, not wanting something to happen to you and thank god I did.” His words leave me speechless, did he mean what I think he means? Before I can protest or respond in anyway, he’s walking over to me. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning towards me. His hand comes to rest on the back of my neck, pulling me towards him ever so slightly. He leans in, his face nearing my own and my eyes flutter shut. His nose brushes my own, his breath causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. 

“ I love you, Y/N and nearly losing you, made me realize that I couldn’t keep that to myself any longer. Fear in the face of tragedy and all of that.” He mumbles, his lips nearly brushing against my own as he speaks. I don’t think, I just act. I close the distance and press my lips against his own, dissolving into the kiss and I can tell he does too. His warmth envelopes me entirely, his lips, his touch, everything. When I finally pull away, my head is spinning. His words rushing through my mind, over and over again. “I love you too, Dean.” I whisper, smiling gently and I press another kiss to his lips. “Fear in the face of tragedy, how poetic.” 

[kerubimcrepin]

Dofus: The Production - reviewing the artbook

This post won't go too deep in detail, it's just my commentary on the artbook — but the next (or, well, one after the next), post will be me doing some actual research outside of it. I recommend you to buy the artbook, and go see its contents for yourself, if you're curious about it. (or download it. It's been scanned to hell and back...)

God, this makes me deranged and insane. Even being baby does not stop Kerubim from loving Joris's jokes... I'm insane...

This part of the artbook has always scared me because like... Does he kill people in Dofus 2, Tot?. Does he.?

Epic events is a funny way to refer to this movie's unending barrage of traumatic events, but man, we were kinda robbed of cool draconic winged Joris. That's sad.

I won't include too much art from the artbook if I can help it, but I wanted to report that this is a very good art and theres a lot of love and um and they love each other and um and [CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] ‘GOOD LORD!’ [GENERAL COMMOTION] [BABY CRYING] ‘WAAAAH WAAAAH’ [YELLING] [POLICE SIRENS] WEEWOO WEEWOO [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG… MY LEG…’

I wish I knew what the fuck Tot meant by this. However, knowing that Pupuce is Kerubim's pet, who just liked her owner's kid more than her owner, has fueled some of my headcanons for years and years:

This version of his armour matches the one we could see in the Dofus Manga. :)

I find it quite fascinating that at one point, it was considered for Julith to be an osamodas huppermage, considering it was theorized for some time that Joris might be an osamodas.

I wouldn't call her a tender mother, but eh. She's more of a... "very loving yet despaired mother who doesn't even know her son" mother. A "wants to get back the past which will never return to the point of putting her son into the torture nexus" mother. A "has love in her that is so mentally disturbed" mother. AND I LOVE HER FOR IT!!

I know that her being an alcoholic is a retcon that Dessous did, but its such a good one. I think it's a good show of her decade of slow slippage of sanity. Comic retcons win over Tot's ideas for all Joris-related media once again.

This post was made by "I love Kerubim's dead family from Dofus Heroes Kerubim and Bakara Alcoholism Lore from Dessous de Dofus" gang.

These two huppermages from the movie's concept art were reused in season 4 of Wakfu. Though it would be easier to say what in season 4 of Wakfu isn't reused stuff considering the "shoestring and a piece of chewed gum" budget it was made on...

God, him petting a pupuce is the most important part of the artbook, save for perhaps...

THE KHAN & THE RED-LIGHT DISTRICT & JORIS UNDERAGE DRINKING SCENE

The fact that this was cut is the biggest personal tragedy of my entire life, and I am NOT joking.

Apparently, in this tavern, we were supposed to learn more of his backstory, — like how his father was a gobbowler, but sadly (or happily, if you really hate Khan) it was cut.

But listen. Khan would go to some sexworkers to stare at them and do nothing. He's that much of a loser. He would take a 10yo as his drinking buddy.

This is where my headcanon that he buys Joris booze post-movie comes from, btw.

Compared to the movie's exaggerated visions of Kerubim crying, these images feel like something Joris would remember seeing in real life, something he'd want to avoid.

It feels more real, than just his panicked visions.

[darkphoenix07]

Elixir of 🕸️Death (J.W)

A vampire series by @darkphoenix07

Mental health request

Masterlist

Paring : Wooyoung x Reader

Genre : Dark Romance, Fantasy, Tragedy

Song suggestion 🎶 : Listen before I go by Billie Eilish, House of cards ♠️ by BTS.

Warning ⚠️ : Mentions of blood, Violence, Degradation, Death, Mention of suicide.

Synopsis : When the girl who doesn't have any will to live meets the demon whose only wish to slaughter humans.

"How will it help me if I drain your blood right now when I can use you anyway I want to?"

- Jung Wooyoung

🍷 "To the people who craves comfort and a single reason to keep themselves alive" 🍷

"There lived my beloved

Weeping for some love

Chasing delicate poisons

To keep her soul alive"

Staring at the ripples, the only thing that comes in your mind is, "If you jump here, how long it will take for you to lose your senses at a point that you won't feel that you've stopped breathing."

Death has always fascinated you. Not only because you were drawn to it through the circumstances of your life. It was because the times you were standing in front of the death valley and how it felt when you were there. They were the only times you felt free, you didn't have any sort of thoughts that would break you or you didn't think of giving someone any explanation.

Unfortunately, you were saved each time by someone which has started to patrify you nowadays.

At a time, you started to feel like you were doing fine. You were thinking that you are alive that was enough for everyone. Like you, others were grateful for you not giving up on your life. But in the end of the day, people got tired of your existence, the way you behaved, the sentences you spoke. It all became a havoc for them, you and your breath.

You relentlessly keep walking by the river through the forest. People call it Red Forest because they think someone ominous lives here and eats people alive. They call that person demon, vampire, werewolf, siren and many more. Because no one knows what it is living here for centuries and no one comes back from this forest alive.

You thought a multiple times that if you end up going back home alive after wondering around here, you'll give up on dying thinking that even God doesn't want to take you back to Him. So, it will only be fair to stop pushing yourself.

Even the moon is hiding from you tonight and there are no animas around. It feels like you are in an empty arena filled with old trees and the river alongside. The cold breeze are now running through your veins. You think if that demon doesn't kill you tonight, the heavy winds may as you are shivering to death.

Your pale blue short dress with love shape front and long sleeves is not enough to keep you warm. You intensionally left your overcoat home but maybe it was too much brutal for you as well.

As you walk a little further, you notice an old mansion with black woods. There was no light inside, you thought but something about the house started to pull you closer.

Maybe the sweet delicate smell of old woods or maybe the little fireflies around the windows wanting some shelter inside. You gotta say that the house was creepy yet the decorations were lively.

You stand in front of the door and knock on the door with your knuckles not finding any bell to ring. Maybe hoping for some horror to find you and filing your wishes.

The town you live in is called "Melanite." The houses here are old and because of this forest there are no developments in here. So you thought this house was one of them and maybe no one lives here.

But someone opens the door leaving you slightly shocked.

His red eyes glimmered in the dark but you couldn't see him properly only his black attire. A sleeveless shimmery shirt and some ribbon around his throat. His pants are loose around his ankles and hiding his boots underneath.

"What do you want?"

His voice is raspy and vouge. It takes you a minute to understand what he asked.

"I am-"

Before you can utter another word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into the mansion. Closing his door by your back, he pins your hand behind your waist. Your instincts made you close your eyes but when you start feeling his cold breathe on your face, you look into those glimmering eyes staring into yours.

He is twisting your hand behind your back but all you can see is his beautiful shaped face. How perfectly sharped his jawline is, how beautiful his pale skin looks and his terrifying eyes, they look like crimson crystals or drop of blood you can't decide.

"Are you here to unalive me, Ms? How foolish of them to send a pretty woman in front of my door thinking I will be hypnotized. But they don't know I've seen thousands of beauties like you, drained their blood with my own fangs and ripped them apart one by one."

You thought he is going to say something more but you staring at him like you have seen the most beautiful thing on the earth caught him off guard.

He leaves your hand and crosses his hands around his chest, "Who sent you this time?"

"I came here alone," you tell him the truth but he doesn't believe a word you say. Instead he thumps his hands beside you and stops inches away from you.

"Don't lie to me. There are people outside, right?" He asks you again and this time you smile.

"Tell me if these are lenses or you are a real monster?" You ask him again catching him off guard by your words.

"Lenses? What kind of weapon are they? You think I need weapons?" He says and you smile again shaking your head.

"So you are a monster, you are not playing dumb. I'm glad to know they exist."

"You better tell me who are you or I'll drain you right n-"

"Are you afraid of humans?" You cross your hands this time throwing him the question.

"How dare you ask me that? Why would I be afraid of some puny species!"

He backs off of you like he felt wronged by your question and you start to chuckle.

"Are you really alone?" He asks you making you stop chuckling.

You look at him then through the window of the dark living room, "You have no idea."

You don't hear anything from him for a while until he opens the door, looks around and again closes it, "I smell no human."

"I am glad," you reply sarcastically but he doesn't catch it.

"Why are you glad? Are they inside my home?" He asks you starting to look around.

"NO!" You almost scream in frustration.

"Then how did you find this place?" He asks you calmly this time.

You thought if there is something to explain or you should straight up tell him what you really want.

Then, "You are a vampire, ha? That was supposed to be a myth but you are truly real," you don't know why your words sound very lame to you.

But he took it nicely, "As you can see, I am. I am not the only one, there are more hidden among humans too."

It gives you shiver but you forget about it as soon as you remember what is the reason you came here for.

"I want you to do something for me."

"Are you ordering me?" His voice become hoarse than before. It's so vivid whenever he is mad.

You look down and start to play with your nails as you speak up, "I want to give you all of my blood right now."

"What? Did you mix anything in your blood? Is that what you were pl-"

"No, I just... I don't want to live anymore. I have been searching an easy way to do so but I couldn't. I failed too many times and I am tired. I can't do it myself anymore," you sounded pathetic but that's just how you are.

"You want me to drain you? You look already pale," you look at him hearing concern in his voice.

You have always been an empath and it helped you understanding everyone so well yet you never knew that a vampire could feel anything let alone concern.

"I just want you to drain me enough that I die. You'll get some blood and I'll get what I want," you tell him all these like you are doing some business deal.

The way he looked at you told you otherwise, "I am hungry. I haven't had blood for two months. If I really start, I wouldn't be able to stop."

"I don't want you to stop."

"Do you realize how pathetic you sound right now? Don't you have any value of your life?"

"If I had, I wouldn't come here knowing a monster lives here."

"I can turn you if you want to. You can l-"

"Did I say I want to live forever? I said I don't want to live a second so for God's sake kill me!"

Your knees starts trembling with your lips. You start feeling numb by the coldness you feel on your skin. You tried getting better being a person but you ended up hurting people, making a massacre. You tried to find any single reason for you to live but you only see yourself as a worst kind of omen.

"Alright then," you hear him say and feel him moving through the cold winter wind, coming in front of you.

You know, you couldn't run away now. Your legs have already given up on you.

But the thing is, you don't want to run away.

You flinch when you feel his index finger on your chin lifting your face up, "A birdy has come to my cage willingly tonight," he starts walking forward and you start walking backwards hearing his words.

"Do you think I will kill her just like that?" He smirks and one of his fangs shows up.

You can't hear anything without your own heartbeat. Even the wind is silent. You want to take a deep breath but it feels like something is stuck in your throat.

"Look I just want to die. I d-"

"I want to keep you safe for my long time meal. Killing you with one go won't give me fun," he grabs your chin and pull your face closer to his as he bends over you.

"I will feed you and kill you everyday. Because blood doesn't taste good when you don't have any fear in your veins."

Suggest me songs you may think can be suitable for this series. *Wink* *wink*

Chapter 2 ( Drain or Drown )

Chapter 3 ( Death Deal )

Chapter 4 ( Bloody Comfort)

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots

I wanted to wait until it had a name before posting this, and I finally came up with something sort of worthy. So here it is: Part 1 of TTLDM!

********

The corpse dangled limply, swinging in the wind. Chains attached to its wrists jangled like chimes, creating a melody more off-tune than haunting.

The corpse was beautiful, once, with long eyelashes and a gleaming smile, gorgeous enough to charm sirens. But no amount of smiling could hide the stick-thin limbs, encrusted with bodily fluids, or the gaping sockets where a pair of eyeballs once rested.

The corpse died of starvation, that much was obvious. It had struggled long and hard to be free, judging from the livid marks along its wrists. Every bone was prominent under its bruised and raw skin. Dried blood stained the rags it wore, barely enough to cover what little dignity it had.

Its ribs were opened up like a butterfly, baring shrivelled organs and guts. I could only hope that it had been post-mortem. Maggots haf infested themselves in its cavities, worming and squirming with glee, a veritable mass of white amidst the red. The sight was enough to make any man heave.

“What's the verdict, doc?” Athena was cheerful as ever, either not caring or pretending not to care about the gore before us. “Who dunnit to this poor fella?”

I shook my head. My guts curdled at the way she prodded a chunk of squirming flesh fearlessly. “Someone starved him to death, then chopped him up like that. He must have been left in a cell until he died, or else he wouldn't be stained all over. This entire scene's at least a day old, too, or else maggots wouldn't have shown up like that,” I explained. “Damn, but I just can't think of a monster that would've done this.”

“It wasn't a monster,” Mrin replied, her voice harsh. “No monster would be that wasteful. A human had to have locked him up, guarded the cell so no monster would eat him, then maimed him afterwards.” Her one good eye narrowed.

Athena grimaced. “Cultists,” she concluded. 

“Yep.” I folded my arms. “They're back at it. I could have sworn we'd driven them away the first four times.”

She shrugged. “They're worse than maggots. Let one live, and soon you'll have twenty swarming your home and setting you on fire for their rituals.” She broke into a grin. “Guess we've got to break out the weapons and go cultist-hunting again, eh?”

“No,” Mrin said suddenly. She had been examining the corpse's wrists. “This isn't a cultist issue. Come here and see.”

“How'd you figure?” I came closer and took a good long look at where she pointed. “I don't see anything.”

“Doc, Who the hell cares?” Athena stood behind me, crowding us in. “The cultists are probably back by now. Let's go kill them some more.”

"Hunting, killing, hunting. Is that all you ever think of doing?” I rounded on her. Call me immature, but that flippancy of hers was wearing on me. “There's a dead man there. Whether or not it is the cultists, we need to investigate and avenge him. And that means properly working out what's going on. Isn't that what you'd want someone to do for you?”

“If I'm dead, I wouldn't care what you did. Eat me, string me up by the innards, fuck my dead corpse, it's all the same to me.” She paused, and a shimmer of old anger, so unlike her, passed her features. “But cultist hunting is always a good idea.”

“You're like an animal, you know that? Oh, so the cultists hurt you. Boo-fucking-hoo. You can't spend the rest of your life mindlessly chasing vengeance. You're right. The cultists will always be there. So stop worrying about them, and start worrying about this new threat, because we can get rid of that. Or are you too desperate to meet your old friends again?”

Athena froze, and I saw rage flash across her features. It was dangerous to provoke her, to rip her mask off and reveal the ugly wounds that festered within. I did it anyway, because it was the only way to get her to listen. “Shut up, Doc,” she hissed, earlier cheer evaporated. “You're no angel of empathy yourself. Or do you think mocking-” Her voice hitched at the memory of things too bad to mention. "-what happened to me was an empathetic thing to do?"

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @tragedycoded, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@xenascribbles, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[springingsour]

BLINK | Various One Piece X Reader

BLINK | Various One Piece X Reader

Summary: You, a former pirate of the Roger Pirate Crew, were once a legend whispered among the waves. A soul thought lost to the depths of a mysterious storm, you’ve awoken to find that a quarter of a century has slipped away like sand through your fingers. Time has shrouded your past in shadows, and the world you knew has transformed beyond recognition.

Your captain, a beacon of courage and embodiment of freedom itself, now rests in the embrace of the sea, leaving you as the last lingering echo of a bond once vibrant and fierce. The crew, your family forged in the heat of adventure, has scattered like droplets of passing waves, drifting apart in the relentless winds of fate. The sea, once your playground, now feels like an uncharted void, a realm of lost dreams and undiscovered echoes.

But whispers on the salty breeze speak of a new quest; the hunt for the One Piece—a treasure hyperbolized by tales, and the legacy your captain left behind. It is not just gold and jewels that lie hidden in the heart of the ocean, but the very title that ignited ambition in the hearts of many: King of the Pirates, ruler of the Seas, a promise sealed with his death.

A calling beckons, a fire ignited within the hollow of your chest.

Will you rise from the ashes of obscurity and heed this siren call? Will you join the wanderers, fighters and dreamers in their search for glory, taking to the roaring waves anew? Your speed, once unmatched, remains a flicker within you, whispering of potential unfulfilled. You may have been left behind, but the spirit of adventure still courses through your veins, and the horizon beckons with the promise of possibility.

Embrace the mysteries of the ocean, and face the storms that swirl within and without. For in the quest for the One Piece, you might just rediscover not only the legacy of your captain and crew but also the very essence of who you truly are.

The seas await your return—will you dare to chart your course?

______________________________________________________________

Snippets:

Masterful Artist: MC wields a specially designed arm attachment for tattooing, likened to a maestro conducting a symphony. The tattoos mark allies and foes, representing fierce battles and unforgettable adventures.

Ocean Enthusiast: Keen eye for the beauty of the ocean; passionate about capturing maritime life in art.

Vivid Chronicles: Paintings reflect the raw essence of sea life from bright horizons to stormy nights.

Notorious Reputation: Known for boldly painting marine ships and coastal bases, earning both reverence and fear; has a notable bounty.

Dual Nature: "Menace-certified"; navigates a world of camaraderie and rivalry.

Tattoo Stories: Each tattoo tells a unique story, deepening connections with the crew.

Theme: Intense adventure with elements of family, tragedy, fun and romance among characters.

Nice Try | One-Shot

______________________________________________________________

This is actually a One Piece Oc turned Fanfic that I wrote when I first got into the anime so many years ago...! This is just a small snippet that I want to share with you all about the concept...!

Would you all like this to be a full fanfic?

Let me know your thoughts on this, and I hope to share more...!

Thank you for reading...!

A Sour Author

[setra-studies]

heyyy, since you said youd like to tell me more about that japanese occupation thing, i am here requesting anything else about it just cuz you seem to have lots of fun explaining it!! :3

1940s : a filipino perspective

∘₊✧ ─── • ✧ • ───✧ ₊∘

oh my god !!!

thank you SO much for this ask!!!

alr alr i'll actually get started now

TWS: blood, war, injury, bombings, rape, murder, general war-crime stuff, HEAVY torture

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 1941: the start of fear

japan, aspiring to unite the countries in asia into the greater east asia co-prosperity sphere, called GEACOPS for short, had occupied manchuria already by the 1940s, and the philippines was the next thing japan wanted.

but the philippines was already occupied and colonized by the americans -- so this lead to the famous bombing of pearl harbour on december 7, 1941. in my textbook, here's an excerpt of the news in the honolulu star bulletin:

this was very strategic, as this was the largest american military base in the pacific, therefore cancelling out america disrupting japan's takeover as they were recovering from the bombing.

USAFFE (united states armed forces in the far east) were an army of filipino and american soldiers organized by general douglas macarthur, but were no match for the japanese forces. marching from north and southeast, the japanese moved toward manila and occupied the city.

an account of the pearl harbour bombing in the philippines by lourdes reyes montinola states:

on december 8, 1941, feast of the immaculate conception, we were on our way to church when news of the bombing of pearl harbour came. that same evening, a piercing siren warned us of an aerial attack--the first of a hundred we were to experience. we crouched in fear as the enemy dropped the first bombs, and our defenders fired anti-aircraft guns . . .

we remained unaware of impending tragedy until the day manila was declared an open city. we did not realize how bad things were going to be until we saw enemy soldiers carrying white flags with the red sun slowl passing through taft avenue . . . soon after, our house was commandeered by the japanese as were many other residences on vito cruz and taft avenue . . .

general macarthur declared manila an open city on december 26, 1941, which means it has been abandoned by its defenders. the japanese invaders, however, continued bombing, until vital installations and buildings of manila were gone. on new year's day 1941, USAFFE retreated into the hills and forest of bataan in the west, foreshadowing an even which will eventually be called the most inhuman atrocity in world war ii -- the bataan death march.

in the afternoon before christmas day, december 24, 1941 amid heavy bombings in the city the national government headed by quezon* and osmeña* were evacuated to the island fortress of corregidor. secretary of justice jose abad santos, general basilio valdes, and colonel manuel nieto were with them. manila was left under the care of jose p. laurel, the acting chief justice and the city mayor, jorge vargas. at the malinta tunnel in corregidor, quezon and osmeña took their oath for their second term as president and vice president of the philippine commonwealth*. after a few days the group left for australia and then for the united states.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ surrender and the open city

moving on to the horrific death march in bataan, soldiers were imprisoned by the japanese. but with no provisions, they were then ordered to walk to camp o'donnel, a concetration camp in capas, tarlac, and their march reached a whopping total of 126 kilometers.

but before that could happen, first, on april 9th, 1942, the 75,000 strong USAFFE soldiers in bataan laid down their arms, surrendering to the japanese. may 6th, 1942, the last remaining stronghold, corregidor, was also surrendered by general wainwright.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the horrors of bataan

to understand the terrible nature of this event, you must understand that no one had water. no one had food. no town could offer the dehydrated, starving filipino and american soldiers food or water or risk being beat by the japanese. escape was impossible, as the japanese shot down whoever attempted to do so. not even dirty canals or wells were available to men for drinking water. the dead were left to grow hot in the sun by the roadside, and if you were nearly dead the japanese would just shoot you and end it already. watches, rings, fountain pens, everything was looted by the japanese soldiers from the USAFFE men.

of the group that started in bataan, 10,000 died. more died in the concentration camp.

from san fernando, surviving prisoners were densely packed into boxcars with no ventilation and brought to capas. as the trains moved to their location under the hot sun, the boxcars became ovens that cooked the men inside alive.

six kilometers were left after their trip, that were once again agonisingly walked by the soldiers. 15,000 died of hunger, malaria, diarrhea, and more executions. a war veteran by name of quirico v. cadang shares his experience in his memoirs:

the earlier mentioned jose p laurel now acted as president of what is called the puppet government -- named after the japanese's puppetry of the new president. laurel was actually doing well in regards to running the country and reducing harm done, and allowed philippine history to finally be taught in schools. this government, the japanese-sponsored republic, was inaugurated on october 13, 1942.

beheadings, cutting of throats, and casual shootings were the more common actions of japanese war atrocities--compared to instances of bayonet stabbing, rape, disembowelment, rifle butt beating and a deliberate refusal to allow the prisoners food or water while keeping them continually marching in tropical heat. falling down or inability to continue moving was tantamount to a death sentence, as was any degree of protest.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the state of the government

economy was at an all time low during the occupation -- food and water scarce, as money was used to repair bombed buildings and such. prices soared in result.

the japanese kempeitai raided houses with unregistered radios, whos owners were then imprisoned in fort santiago, and inhuman punishments were meted out to them as a daily exercise.

failing to bow to the japanese sentries stationed at street corners resulted in harm to whoever had done so -- but that was not the main source of fear. the spy was.

filipinos could also be spies for the japanese -- called the makapili (literally meaning "choosy" or "the one who chooses"). he was to identify rebels (called guerrillas) and those identified would become targets and would be executed accordingly.

many years after the war, the abuses done to filipino women came to light. the "comfort women" were used to relieve soldier's sexual urges, and were often gathered into houses, even schools to be raped over and over every day. the infamous pulang bahay (red house) is the most well known place where this happened.

remedios fellas, 72, presented her story in a book entitled "the hidden battle of leyte: the picture diary of a girl taken by the japanese military." i will not describe anything in the book, as i deem it perhaps too graphic for this blog and i don't want people to get scared off. but i will say that stories like these were truly horrible, and no woman should ever suffer like this as spoil of war ever again.

by 1945, the americans were ready to return. after a bit of island-hopping (and subsequent victories), the leyte gulf war commensed. the american fleet, composed of 650 ships and 4 army divisions, cleared the area and subdued the japanese troops. from october 24 to 26, the battle for leyte gulf took place. the battle at surigao strait ended with the japanese annahilated. the battle of samar, after an endless day of fire and shooting, the americans had the upper hand. leyte, liberated on october 26th, 1945, was now the temporary capital.

the guerrilla / resistance movement was the main source of rebellion, monitoring enemy activity and reporting to general macarthur, to carry out assaults against the japanese military, and to kill japanese sympathizers and spies.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ freedom in reach

manila's liberation finally took place on january 9th, 1946, as the americans surprised the japanese with a landing of troops in lingayen gulf. on february 3, the troops entered manila. freeing prisoners, over 1000 were saved from the bilibid prisons -- and these prisoners were those of bataan and corregidor.

seeing the futility of their situation, the japanese committed a final horror before the battle begun -- the manila massacre. violent mutilations, rapes, and murders took place. filipinos were gathered into houses to be shot or burned down, and women were mass raped. a japanese battalion order dates february 13th reads:

when filipinos are to be killed they must be gathered in one place and disposed of with the consideration that ammunition and manpower must not be used to excess. because the disposal is a troublesome task they should be gathered into houses scheduled to be burned or demolished. they should also be thrown into the river.

about 100,000 of the one million residents in manila died in the absolute massacre. 1,000+ us soldiers were also part of the casualties while 5,565 were wounded. 16,000 japanese soldiers died as well, mostly sailors. the battle of manila was recorded as the fiercest urban fighting in the entire pacific war.

when in class, we watched a video of this massacre -- manila was gone. razed to the ground. on february 23rd -- my own birthday -- the fighting stopped. buildings gone. ground dirty with blood of filipinos, americans and japanese alike. the past six years culminated into a battle of the greatest intensity, and it ended in a city destroyed completely. the beauty of manila nowhere to be seen, the filipinos won back their independence at a cost too heavy to carry.

in malacañang palace, macarthur gathered the filipino leaders, finally declaring a statement that brought joy to the nation, that allowed the deaths of thousands of rebels to have come to use:

my country has kept the faith. your capital city, cruelly punished though it be, has regained its rightful place--citadel of democracy in the east.

∘₊✧ ─── • ✧ • ───✧ ₊∘

thank you for reading. feel free to request other historical events.

if you read through this and feel very traumatized, play tetris. you'll likely forget most of the traumatizing details. i apologize in advance.

[oneshotnewbie]

Can you write a story about Natasha Ross? I give you full creativity to make whatever you want.

Summary: Fire Chief Natasha Ross, Captain y/n y/l/n and their team are called to an operation that confronts you with your own past. While you try to help others, you also have to fight your own demons. Natasha will help you with this. This experience will strengthen your friendship and help you heal.

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of loss and death. Those plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sun was dipping towards the horizon as the loud wail of sirens broke the calm evening silence. Natasha, the veteran fire chief, looked up from the latest reports and operational plans on her desk and immediately sensed the urgent tension in the air. Something big was afoot.

She jumped up and grabbed her helmet that was hanging on the wall before putting on her jacket and hearing the first instructions over the radio. "All units, we have a major fire at Pier 25. Immediate standby. Repeat, immediate standby."

Natasha rushed out of her office, where she already met you, the captain of the fire station. The tension in your eyes was unmistakable, and Natasha knew this wouldn't be an unusual mission. You also felt an inexplicable restlessness rising within you. “What do we have, y/n?” She asked as she bumped into you.

You panted as you jumped down the last steps from the top and followed her into the hall. "It's one of the old storage complexes on the pier. It looks like a devastating fire with possible hazardous materials."

The fire chief nodded seriously and got into the car, followed by you and the entire team. The streets whizzed past you as the blue lights showed the way through the paths. Thoughts swirled through Natasha's head as she focused on the mission at hand, wanting to do everything right. However, a vague feeling of oppression still didn't leave her.

When you reached the pier the scene was chaotic. Flames danced wildly, thick black smoke covered the sky bathed in evening sun. Workers had gathered around the cordoned off site, some in panic, others stunned by the extent of the destruction.

Natasha jumped out of the car and immediately took command of her team. "Security squad, search for survivors and direct them immediately to the rescue squad. The rest run in ahead of the security squad and fight the fire. We have to get the flames under control before a dangerous explosion could occur."

The entire team, including you, nodded and charged into the blazing hell of the complex. The heat was intense, and the crackling of the fire added to the air. The smoke was so thick that it obscured visibility and as you fought your way through each hallway, the desperate symphony of fire roaring where suddenly overwhelmed by a familiar smell - a smell that triggered a flood of memories.

You knew this place. It was the same warehouse where you had experienced one of the worst missions of your career years ago. A tragedy that haunted you to this day. You stopped abruptly in the middle of the building, and Natasha felt an inexplicable tension as she listened through the comms as Andy and Maya encouraged you to keep walking and stay with the group.

"Y/n, what's wrong? Talk to me." Natasha asked worriedly and you turned your gaze towards the ground. Confronting your past brought with it a wave of emotions - guilt, sadness and anger. You forced yourself to concentrate while Natasha, full of tension from the mission and nervousness of the fire, had completely forgotten what memories this place held for you. "T-this is the place where y/s/n d-died in a fire years ago, 'tash. Y-you and I were h-here and couldn't save her."

The fire chief froze for a moment as the memories came flooding back to her. She had taken part in this tragic incident almost a decade ago; the three of you were a rescue team in one of these warehouses when the ceiling partially collapsed and buried your sister under the flaming roof. The image haunted you like a dark shadow. "I know it's hard. But now we're here, and we'll do our best to help anyone who's in danger. I know it's hard but you have to suppress your feelings, y/n."

You nodded silently without her seeing and continued on your way, with Natasha resolutely accompanying you in your ear. The fire raged wildly around you as you delved deeper into the burning complex. The heat was suffocating, the smoke made it difficult to breathe even with a mask, but you couldn't give up. People's lives depended on your work.

But while you desperately tried to save others, you battled your own inner demons. The memories of your sister's tragic loss washed over you like an unstoppable tide. The image of your sister caught in the flames haunted you amidst the chaos. The scream before everything came down, every smell of the fire reminded you of your own powerlessness when you had failed to save her. The thought of being here again, in this place of loss and pain, threatened to overwhelm you with every step.

Outside the squad car, Natasha listened intently to her team's radio transmissions as she tried to support you. She heard your desperate breathing and felt her own helpless rage at the ruthlessness of the fire. But she knew you were fighting - not just against the flames, but also against your own ghosts of the past and she knew that she couldn't leave you alone. “Y/n, do you hear me?” She called over the radio in a calm and firm voice, directing her attention only to you to try and calm you down. She knew the rest of the team would make it without her.

A weak response came back, punctuated by coughs and a muffled voice that made her think you were trying to hold back your tears. "Yes, 'tash. I hear you."

Her heart ached at the sound of your voice and she forced herself to stay calm, even though she wanted to grab you out of there and pull you into a hug. "You can do this, honey. You are strong. Remember why you are doing this. Think of the people who are counting on you." She replied, forcing you to take a deep breath as you fought back tears. You knew she was right, you could feel her words being an anchor in the middle of a storm, and you couldn't let your fears paralyze you, not now when so many lives were at stake.

With renewed courage you continued on your way, focusing on saving others instead of getting lost in your own thoughts, Natasha repeatedly whispering a few soothing words into your ears. You reached for the injured worker, surrounded by flames, and without hesitation, you pulled him out of harm's way and led him through the thick smoke to safety.

Natasha, meanwhile, followed your every move, every instruction you gave, feeling relieved and worried at the same time. She knew that this deployment was an emotional rollercoaster for you, but she was also proud of the way you once again asserted yourself, overcame your fears and rose to the challenges.

Finally, after endless minutes of fighting, you emerged from the burning inferno with Maya and Andy, followed by the last survivors. Your face was covered in soot and sweat, but there was an unwavering look of exhaustion and triumph in your eyes.

Natasha rushed to you with quick steps and hugged you tightly. "You did it, y/n. You and your team saved them all." She spoke proudly, hugging you tighter. You smiled tiredly, the demons of the past had exhausted you. "Thank you, Natasha. I couldn't have done it without you."

Hours passed, but it felt like an eternity as the rest of the teams, including yours, got the flames under control. Natasha watched you stand still, staring at the charred ruin as she slowly approached, and crept up on you before an arm wrapped around your shoulder, momentarily startling you. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you said quietly, the memories still swirling vividly in your head. Natasha was fascinated by how you seemed calm and collected on the outside while you were drowning on the inside. "I thought I had processed it, I mean her death. But this mission showed me that there are still a few things I need to come to terms with."

"You know I'll support you, right?" She asked and a small smile escaped your dry lips. "Whether you want to seek professional help, talk to me about it, or need some time to strengthen your mental health.. I'm here. And I won't leave."

You nodded and rested your head on her chest as she rested her cheek on your hair. You had to learn to live with your loss and stay focused on helping others in need.

In the days and weeks that followed, Natasha took time for you to reflect on what had happened and accompanied you to a psychologist. Confronting your past had shown you that it was important to face your fears and weaknesses and learn from them. With the support of the fire department chief, you were slowly able to completely come to terms with the demons of your past and in the process formed a closer and deeper friendship with Natasha, who you never thought you would ever have with anyone.