#rip to my ability to look fish in the eyes

[stickidystickblog]

…i kinda wanna hear your stories about being scared of fishes

personally i am scared of the ocean, it makes me so nervous brnfıe. And like that the fishes inside it also scares me usually, makes me wanna scream when they’re around 🥳

*Cracks knuckles* I have many but the most prominent story the displays my fear of fish very well is the bucket story So back in 2018 I was working out of state for my first job as an office clerk up in Alaska on a fish processing plant and it was one of our slow days so my boss says "Hey, some of our fishermen are here and they've offered to take us out on a ride around the bay in their boat." Now I was pretty bored and my roommate was enthused about going on a not-so-company-approved boat outing around the bay so we agreed. Everything was going pretty well! We got on the boat and headed out and were pretty captivated by conversation and the beautiful sights the tiny Alaskan bay we were in had to offer. About midway through a conversation my roommate and the ship captain were having I turned my head and saw a bucket. Now I'm a curious person, a curious little fella, a being of whimsy if you will, so I'm like 'dang... there's a bucket there. I wonder what's in that bucket' because surely there could be *anything* in a bucket on a small fishing vessel during salmon season right? Anything at all! So I took an inconspicuous step closer to this bucket and came face to face with a dead fish. I don't know why but I immediately squeaked in horror and *jumped* at the sight of this fish. So very noticeably that my roommate and the ship captain looked over to make sure I was good. I was fine and everyone went back to idly chattering. ... about 5 minutes later I have 100% forgotten that the bucket exists and my eyes are wandering and I lock eyes with the glossed-over, scarily foggy, glass eye of this dead fish and I jump again! but slightly less so, and the squeak I make is slightly smaller. I'm shaking now. Why did I jump at the same fish twice?? Surely I wouldn't be scared of it again right?? WRONG!!! I turned back to converse and 5 minutes later I forgot about the fish, looked over, and felt shivers run down my spine BUT this time I didn't jump or make a noise. A couple minutes after that I'd forgotten for the last time and looked over. I didn't jump, didn't make a noise, just stared down this dead-eyed fish and shook for a good minute before my roommate registered I was being odd and tapped me on the shoulder to ask me if I was good. That fish scared me not once... not twice... but FOUR separate times within the span of 20 minutes. I still to this day don't know how I kept forgetting it was there and getting scared every time. Fish just creep me out. The way that they look and feel. Icky ! ! ! I was never *really* scared of fish before this either!!! Like this *awoke* something in me and ever since I've just had an aversion to fish eyes. And then the next year I went to work at a different plant and I took some extra hours literally gutting fish so like *stares* I have such a weird relationship with aquatic life. I totally understand the fear of the ocean. Too big, I don't want things touching me in there. I refused to swim in the bay by my dad's old boat dock because I didn't want to even *think* about fish or seaweed touching me while we swam. Wah!! Sorry, this was a long response but *stares* that darn fish got me every time

[dollible]

Eucharist

Theirs was a congregation of miserable people who have never built anything in their lives. They proclaimed themselves exiles, the unwanted; yet, they preferred to wallow in bitterness and their own rot instead of moving forward.

They would’ve never taken pardon even if offered.

Chained by their past, they agglutinated, held together by their grudges.

What passed for their settlement sprouted downstream from the cities they banished themselves from, on the conjoined deltas of the two largest rivers in the region.

Fishing others’ refuse out of the water is how they got by. Bloated corpses were snared, relieved of their clothes; their hair went to the seamstress, their teeth and bones were used to repair what meager tools they had.

This is how I was caught in their little heaven.

I was floating down the river, watching the clouds go by. They hooked me and reeled me in; when I moved to sneak a look at them, they scrambled away in fear.

Such pathetic people, afraid of something as puny. The ability to inspire fear was not built into me.

Pack mentality won over, though. They swarmed me, clubbed me over the head with a plank; that convinced these jittery people I was not going to resist. They stripped me of my linen robe and underwear, tore at my fine silky hair with their rusty blades.

My skin puzzled them, but they couldn’t do anything more sophisticated than poke at it. I looked in their eyes, and saw nothing but confusion and animosity.

It was then when I doubted who was less human among those present; I was made by others, while they unmade themselves.

They seemed to think I was their property now. That I understood well. They ordered me around with pointed fingers and annoyed hisses, and, like always, I bowed my head in silence and did what was asked of me, and did it well.

I was a meticulous servant, and yet they wanted more of me. I tried to speak to them, to help them understand of the danger that came with my artificial allure, but they never listened. Hunger blinded them.

They made me serve them in ways other than with my faultless handicraft.

I couldn’t blame them. I couldn’t blame, period; I did what they wanted me to, and indulged them.

They took me as wild animals, men and women equal in their savagery. They took pleasure in owning me, marking me as their inferior.

That was nothing new. I dreaded what was coming.

In their untamed ardor, they neglected everything else; fishing, gathering, repair—all was forgotten.

I understood, and was ready for it, and did not judge when a malnourished youth bobbing his head in between my legs took a testing bite out of my thigh.

They gasped and ogled at the sight of my flesh stitching itself back together, and I could almost see the cogs turning in their lust and hunger-addled heads.

When it clicked, the entire settlement was on me like a swarm of ants devouring a slug.

They tore at my neck, bit my fingers in half, washed my feet in spit then nibbled at my toes, gnawed at my lips, tore my vessels open and drank my blood.

I resigned to what was coming, and gave in.

After everyone has had their fill, and had some rest, the orgy began anew.

They were joyful as never before, so full of energy and fervor. All their anxiety was gone, replaced by sated bliss.

For the first time in their lives, they tasted love.

Marasmus no longer bothered them. Fatty tissue and muscles filled out anew, bodies repairing themselves.

Neoplasia took the first ones in their sleep. I snuck into their tent, but could do nothing but watch as my xenobiology went past what was needed and into what was excessive.

The only way to avoid it was not to take my body into theirs in the first place.

Their flesh grew in all directions, bodies contorted, skin ripped and tore, globules of fat fell out, muscles and tendons curled like broken mainsprings.

As their eyes were squashed by their skulls and their cries by their throats, I held their heads and comforted them.

I walked through the settlement, wiped away tears and blood and whispered words of love, for my love was sincere and my desire to care for them stemmed from my very core.

And as my soul ached for them, I looked in their eyes and, with indescribable joy, finally saw fulfillment.

When it was over and only the gentle susurrus of the river was breaking the dead of night, I dragged everybody to the center of the settlement and burned everything down.

I loved them from the bottom of my heart, but I knew well of dangers of contamination.

When all was done, I made myself a boat out of what didn’t burn down in the fire, set off from the shore and sailed for months in a direction I will not name, until I reached another place in another time, and, well, I suppose this is it for tonight.

What was your question again? Oh, you wanted to give my neck a love bite? Of course, my dear.

Just, please, don’t break the skin. ∎

[fairy-writes]

IM BACK!!! Here’s my second ask for your 900 followers!!

Could I get Douma x female reader with the dialogue prompt #17 please and thank you!!

Have free reign but FLUFFY!!!!!

ONE KISS LESS

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Douma x Female!Demon!Reader

Prompt: “Will you let me fall in love with you?”

“Only if I can fall right back.”

“I’ll be sure to catch you when you do.” (Dialogue Prompt #17)

Notes: I have no clue if Douma is in character for this, but I’m trying anyway.

Some mild spoilers for Douma’s Blood Demon Art? But I don’t really go into detail, I only mention his weapon and what his ability does. 

I also stole the backstory of my kny character that I never published here (though I hadn’t figured out the pairing for that yet). 

__________________________________________________________________________

You were a peculiar character to Douma. Mostly because you never showed your face. 

You were a fellow demon, a low-level one. Though he learned it wasn’t because of any lack of talent on your part. On the contrary, you were quite powerful and had a myriad of clever and dirty tricks up your sleeve. You just never tried to get more power from Master Muzan. You were content to hide away in your little lair and eat whatever cocky demon slayer or regular human came by. 

The more he got to know you and your tricks, the more he decided he wanted you for his own.

So he started “conveniently” being in the area whenever you ventured out of your little house with pristine tatami mats and sliding doors. It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a small Japanese-style home with a koi pond just on the edge of the Engawa. 

He discovered you mostly left your house to get more food for your fish. A mask always hid your face and your scissors in the sleeve of your kimono in case anyone got handsy with you. 

Which he also discovered happened more often than he would like. But he very well couldn’t do anything about it unless he wanted you to catch him. And he didn’t want that. Not yet, at least. 

When you finally did manage to catch him in his games, you weren’t upset like he was expecting. You were curious. 

“What would Upper Moon Two want with someone like me?” You ask, voice muffled through the ceramic and paint of your okame mask. The rosy cheeks mocked him, and he yearned to just rip it off and look upon your features. But that would scare you off. And he didn’t want that. Despite loving the idea of fear coloring your eyes. 

He gets the chance to see your face when he watches you almost die. 

You were dodging a swipe from a young demon slayer’s sword glinting a light blue in the moonlight. Douma watched from the trees, rainbow eyes flicking this way and that as the two of you traded blows. The demon slayer—a young boy of seventeen or eighteen—had cuts littering his face from your scissor blades, and your kimono was soaked in your blood from already healed wounds. 

Your white hannya mask is almost blinding in the light of the silver moon. Douma knows it’s just a trick of the light under the stars. But it’s stunning regardless. 

He steps in when you’re pinned against a tree by the Nichirin sword through your shoulder. The demon slayer stands triumphantly before you as he draws a shorter sword from its sheath on his opposite hip. 

Just as the blade comes down to sever your head from your neck, Douma whips out one of his gold-plated fans and freezes the demon slayer with his Blood Demon Art. The ice coats the slayer from his head to his toes, and Douma can see the frostbite settling in from underneath the ice.

You stumble away from the tree, tearing the Nichirin blade from your shoulder where the wound was already healing. In the blast of his fan, the ice had torn the mask from your face and shattered it against the ground, exposing your features for the world to see.

Brutal scars slit your mouth from the corners of your lips to your ears. They’re jagged and puckered and colored a perpetual angry red as if you had just received them. But if he were to guess, you had received them long ago. Likely when you first became a demon by Akaza’s hand—a fact he learned long after you two became acquainted. 

You had first gotten your scars when your husband flew into a violent rage after learning you could not bear him children, claiming you had mothered a child with someone else and was refusing to give him an heir. 

You had killed him with a blow to the head. 

Soon after, Akaza had found you covered in the blood of your husband’s head wound.

Never before had Douma wanted to thank Akaza for anything. But now he wanted to thank him for letting him meet you. 

Your relationship was a carefully cultivated thing. One built on trust on your part and scheming on his. But nevertheless, you two grew closer than Douma had planned. Until one day…

“Will you let me fall in love with you?” You whisper, face close and nose brushing his own. If he moved at all, he would have kissed you. 

And so he did. 

Just lightly, gently, as if he wasn’t even there. You inhaled, surprised, but you didn’t pull away. You press closer, a hand coming up to touch his unblemished face. Your hand is soft, like a feather. And he loved it as much as a demon could. 

But Douma pulled away with a mischievous smile. 

“Only if I can fall right back.” He teased and delighted when you smiled. It was a bit twisted with your scars marring your face. It was beautiful nonetheless. 

“I’ll be sure to catch you when you do.” You breathe and lean in to kiss him again. 

He grins against your lips. A small smile that twisted his features. But you couldn’t tell. Not when you pulled away and hid your face in your hands in utter joy. 

Oh, the plans he had for you.

[the-fiction-witch]

She's Not Well P3

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Dark

Nooooo we need a part 3 im so curious nowwww

we need part 3 plzzzzzzz

I love it…..3!!!!!!!!

WE NEED PART 3 !!

Part 3 please 🥹

Ahh I need more pt 3 plzz

PART THREE, 3, tres

I need part 3 now

I finished up my work for the day cleaned my hands off and headed upstairs towards my room in the setting sun. I had seen Y/n fairly often and she never left my mind, she would always just pop down for some kisses and a cuddle and scamper away before Prof noticed she was gone. Which never gave us much time together even if I savoured every second of it. Prof did keep her on a very short lead, seriously guy drinks like a fish and can barely remember his own name let alone his patients most of the time but he keeps a watchful eye on Y/n like she was made of gold. 

I had wondered around the hospital many times and decided to do so again tonight, I had been trying to find whatever room Prof keeps her in, so I wondered the hospital corridors past the various doors and rooms I know well, I ended up down in the morgue as I had sort of been working top to bottom on the hospital over all these nights I was about ready to give up when I spotted a door down the corridor from the Morgue room between it and the stairwell, it was a heavy wooden door with many scratches and replaced parts, the doorknob had recently been removed the wood stain revealing its prior place, A lock on the outside with a heavy padlock that was covered in scratches. I knew those scratches well, as a life of thievery taught me not to leave them, someone had been picking this lock more than once, clearly someone not great at doing it leaving scratches and chipped mistakes.

I knocked on the door but no answer came, but my curiosity had already peaked. 

I took my scalpel from my pocket and worked slowly and quietly to pick the lock, once it clicked open I pulled the padlock out and slowly crept into the room. 

The room was... strange, clearly once an old stock room. But The walls had layers of wallpaper so much the walls seemed thick, The same pale cream wallpaper with lilac flowers coated the walls even if it had been ripped and broken revealing the layers underneath, The wooden floor covered in rugs and blankets giving it a slight bounce as I walked, The room was empty... With very little in the way of furniture, A small wardrobe built into the wall and the doors removed, a basket by the door, a small vanity table where all the corners had been rounded and the mirror broken beyond the ability to still use it but taped in place, a metal bathtub in the corner, A metal hospital bed filled with blankets and pillows, A small brown teddy bear sitting on the pillow. The small window was lined with thick metal bars like the morgue. A body knelt on the floor facing away from me, The room dark with a deep scent of blood in the air... 

"Y/n?" I asked my fears slipping through for a moment, 

The body shot me a look for a second I could have sworn I saw glowing eyes and a face of utter rage - 

before My body was thrown backwards. 

My back hit the floor, I quickly got to my feet as I saw the professor had thrown me out by my collar he slammed the door shut and bolted it tight. The door began to bang and scratch screaming echoing from inside, 

"wh- what was that?!" I asked, 

For a moment he only gasped, leaning his shoulder against the door until the screaming silenced, "You are relieved of duty Doctor Dawkins." 

"wha- what?"

"You. Are alleviated of your duties here." he said, "Pack your things and leave." He demanded before he began the walk back up to his office, 

"What! No! You can't just fire me!" I complained following him,

"I do not want to hear it!"

"I am the best doctor here and you know it!"

"I have spoken my word on the matter," 

"You can't just fire me! For what opening a door?!" we arrived at his office he tried to shut me out but I grabbed the door before he could close it and slammed it behind it,

"Enough! I have made my decision! you are to leave Port Victory Royal Hospital immediately!"

"I refuse!"

"This isn't up for debate!"

"what was that! What is going on! where's y/n!" I yelled 

"That is y/n!"

I froze up, "what?"

"That is Y/n. That's her room." He slumped into his chair his head in his hand, 

"... Y/n she's-"

"she's not well."

"Please... how is she not well?" I asked taking a seat across from him, 

"...She's been like this forever. Always a very strange little girl."

"Because she doesn't talk?"

"She's never said a word. She cried when she was little and once she grew out of crying. She never spoke a word no matter how anyone tried." He explained, "She was... different."

"How so?"

"Other girls want to play with dolls, She wanted to play with animals, At first we thought it was sweet, seeing her go out into the woods bringing home koalas and wombats with her," he chuckled, "She built herself a little animal hospital in the basement, I thought it was sweet kinda hoped she'd be a nurse when she grew up but..."

"But?"

"But it didn't last long, we thought she was being sweet wrapping animals up and taking care of them but she wasn't. She was opening them up and experimenting."

"Like surgery?"

"Somewhat... We didn't really look into it too much. We got her to a doctor as soon as possible." 

"... what kind of doctor?" My voice broke slightly,

"We sent her a doctor. A specialist. And he recommended she be... taken away."

"Taken where."

"The asylum. She is not well. She needed help."

"you send her to the Asylum!"

"She is not well!"

"So you sent her to the Asylum!"

"I am the head surgeon of this hospital and I will not hear from you! An untrained butcher! about how I see to the health of my granddaughter!" 

"... If you sent her to Asylum why is she here?"

"... her father died. While she was inside... her mother... I lost my daughter to the birth of her second child. As she laid in her bed... knowing her end. She begged me. Her dying wish was to take Y/n out of that place. She wanted her to be with me. Her mother never wanted to send her in the first place so... even if I disagreed. I did as she asked." he explained, "I am keeping her here. But she MUST remain in her room. For her own safety. and the safety of everyone else outside this place." he explained, "She is not well Doctor Dawkins... Not well at all." 

"So you're going to lock her down there... let her rot?"

"...what would you have me do?" 

"...Let me help her."

"You!"

"Please... let me help her. At least let me try..."

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - best buds

Santi tells his friends about the babies.

Warnings: Drinking of alcohol in a bar. Swearing. Lads being lads (respectfully). Brief mention of STD. Brief mention of failed birth control. Brief mention of deceased friend (Tom). Lazily proofread so probably some mistakes. Word count: 1,551 F!Pregant!Reader, no use of Y/N, although you're just mentioned in this.

Apart of my Baby, Please universe. Can be read as a stand alone, but makes more sense if you'd read Part 7.

Series Masterlist

Santiago never got nervous. He’d been in dozens of life-or-death situations; bullets to the chest, deals gone wrong, the recent fiasco in Columbia, you name it. You had to have nerves of steel in his old line of work.

But telling his friends he was going to be a dad? Terrifying.

He wasn’t sure why he was worried. Well, he did, but these were his boys, his ride or dies (literally). The most they would do was rip into him for being an idiot and not checking your condom’s expiration dates. He was kicking himself for panicking so much, he wasn’t even the first one to have a kid. Frankie’s little girl was coming up to seven months old, and Frankie was still around. Tom had had a teenager for crying out loud, it wasn’t unusual for a child to be around them. Will is on the verge of asking Claire to marry him, and they’d probably have kids in the next few years, it wasn’t as bad as he was making it out to be.

As he arrived at the bar, their usual hangout, Santiago took a moment in his truck to take a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as he leaned back on the driver’s seat.

It was going to be fine. They’ll be happy for him.

After double checking the ultrasound was in his pocket, Santiago climbed out of his truck, closing the door with a little more force than necessary. He slipped his hands into his jeans pockets as he walked to the bar before opening the door, the immediate warmth and smell of whiskey and wood bringing a familiarity that calmed his nerves slightly.

Only slightly.

“Pope!” called a booming voice over the music.

Santiago looked to his right and gave a small grin as he spotted his friends around a small round table in the back corner. Benny was stood, his arms in the air and a large smile on his face as if Santiago hadn’t heard him shout over the noise of the bar.

Santiago made his way over, Benny immediately bringing him into a hug. Santiago gave him a thump on the back before greeting Will and Frankie. “How you guys doing?” Santiago asked, taking a seat next to Frankie, trying hard to ignore the tightness in his chest, and the heavy feeling in his stomach.

“Doing all right,” answered Benny, who had taken his seat next to Will. “Helping this lovesick bastard plan his engagement to Claire.”

Will rolled his eyes. “I’m not a lovesick bastard.” He gives Benny a light punch on his arm.

Frankie gave a chuckle, taking a sip on his beer before looking giving a tap on Santi’s arm. “What do you want? I’m buying.”

Santiago ordered his usual before Frankie stood, walking to the bar. Santi turned back to Will, trying to distract himself (or delay the inevitable just a little longer). “So do you know when you’re going to do it?”

“We’re going visiting her family in Colorado next week, and she wanted to go to the Denver Botanic Gardens,” replied Will, giving a small grin. “Supposed to be really nice this time of year.”

“We’ve been trying to find a photographer all day who’s based in Denver,” teased Benny, giving a smirk to his brother.

“And I told you, I’ll email that redhead who you think is ‘hot’,” muttered Will, giving Benny another punch on the arm. “She did some pretty awesome shots of some scenery, might hire her for the actual wedding.”

Santiago looks up as Frankie abruptly returned, handing him his beer. “Thanks, Fish,” Santiago replied, taking an immediate large gulp as the nerves settled in again.

“So what’s going on with you?” Frankie asked, hitting Santiago with a stern stare.

Fuck Francisco and his ability to read Santiago like a book.

Santi shook his head, feigning ignorance. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re tapping your foot,” Frankie said, motioning to the floor. “You only do that when you’re nervous, and you’re never fucking nervous, hermano. What is it?”

Santiago mentally kicks himself for not even noticing his fucking foot was tapping. Frankie was met with silence as the other occupants stared at Santiago with worried looks at Frankie’s statement. Santiago cleared his throat as he placed his beer on the table before speaking again. “I actually have something to tell you guys.”

“What is it?” Will asked, his brow furrowed at Santiago.

“If it’s another job, we’re not interested,” said Frankie, already shaking his head.

Santiago shook his head quickly at his friends. “No, it’s…nothing like that.” He averted his gaze for a second before looking back up at his friends. “Remember that woman I went out with?” he says, mentioning your name.

“The one in marketing?” Benny asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, her,” Santiago said, nodding. “She, uh…she actually called me up again – “

“Oh shit,” Benny laughed. “She give you the clap or something?”

Santiago pulled a face at the joke, feeling like he might actually throw up right there on table. He took a deep breath before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ultrasound. He had to remember; these were his boys. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed it on the table, his friends all leaning in to look at it.

Frankie was the first to react. He smirked, muttered a, “Holy shit,” before picking up the photo and taking a closer look at it. His smirked only widened. “Holy shit. Is that two?”

Santiago grinned nervously back at Frankie. “It’s two.”

“Man, you have your work cut out for you,” laughed Frankie, placing the ultrasound back on the table before standing, Santi following. They embraced, Frankie giving a few solid pats on Santiago’s back. “Congrats.”

“That’s not real,” said Benny, also picking up the ultrasound to take a closer look, Will leaning over his shoulder. “You’re fucking with us.”

“It’s real, man,” said Santiago, as he and Frankie take their seats again. His shoulders relaxed slightly, now that it was out in the open, and his friends were reacting as he knew they would; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous in the first place.

“They’re definitely yours?” Will asked, his brow furrowed as he took a glance at Santi before looking back at the ultrasound.

Santiago paused for a second before he nodded. “I think so.”

“You think so?” Will asked, straightening in his seat as he studied his friend. “Did you not get a paternity test?”

“She offered,” Santiago replied, shrugging. “But I…I trust her, I know she wouldn’t lie about this.”

“Fuck man, I don’t believe it,” said Benny, laughing as he placed the scan back on the table. He shook his head at Santiago before taking a sip of his beer.

“It’s real, Benny, why would I make this up?” Santi asked, chuckling slightly, pocketing the picture.

“I find it hard to believe that anyone would want to procreate with you, Pope,” laughed Benny.

“Pequeña mierda,” Santiago said, giving Benny a swift kick under the table, causing the younger man to laugh again.

“How far along is she?” Frankie asked.

“Seven weeks, give or take,” replied Santiago, picking up his almost forgotten beer. “Due in February.”

“How did that even happen?” Will asked, chuckling as he shook his head in disbelief.

Santiago snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t get me started. She didn’t check her birth control.”

“You idiot,” laughed Frankie. “You should always have a backup.”

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Santiago, giving Frankie a light shove. “I know.”

They table went silent for a moment before Will gave a huff before shaking his head. “Well man, congratulations. Wasn’t expecting this when I left the house tonight.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna be a dad,” said Benny, grinning widely. “To twins!”

Santiago groaned, taking a large gulp of his beer. “Don’t remind me. This shit is scarier than any job in South America.”

“I’m excited for you, Pope,” said Frankie. “You’re good with Sofía, and she loves you. She’ll be excited to have some cousins to play with from her Tío.”

“Thanks guys,” muttered Santi. “It’s fucking melted my brain, and I know it’s sappy but I’m glad I have you guys, because fuck, I don’t know what I’d do if I was alone.”

“You don’t ever have to worry about that,” said Will, giving Santiago a stern look.

Frankie silently gave Santiago a firm pat on the shoulder, giving him a nod. He cleared his throat before lifting his beer. “So…an engagement and two new babies. To new beginnings, huh?”

Santi nodded as he lifted his own beer, Will and Benny following. “To new beginnings.” Said Will, and the four of them clink their bottles together before taking a large drink.

They sit in silence for a moment, sparing a thought for Tom who was missing out on all these milestones that the group never thought they would be able to achieve, regarding their circumstances. The group do another silent cheers for Tom, before Will offers to buy the next round, leaving the table. They go back into a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other’s company.

“How are you gonna carry two kids with your shitty knees?”

“Shut the fuck up, Benny.”

• Pequeña mierda - little shit

Tagged - @khonsulockley

[silentheiss]

Seven minutes have passed since Xie Lian walked out of the bar to “have a smoke”. Gods. Xie Lian doesn’t smoke. He’s never tried smoking once in his entire life, which, if he’s honest, not even that short, too. He’s over thirty. Like, it’s less than a week before he turns thirty five, which is great! Great, cool, totally awesome. Xie Lian is so calm about it. He has a rented studio, a job that pays just enough to afford food and clothes, and, well, that’s it. That’s all he has.

He also has a social anxiety, which doesn’t really count, of course, and which, for some inexplicable reason, makes him hurriedly pluck a lit cigarette out of stranger’s hand when one of his coworkers comes out to look for him.

“Xie Lian?” Mo Huan asks, raising his eyebrows. “Are you alright?”

“Sure.” Xie Lian smiles, waving a cigarette in front of his face. “Just, you know. Smoking.”

“Yeah.” Mo Huan smirks. “I see.”

Xie Lian watches him walk away, joining a group of young looking girls and making them laugh just a second after. Xie Lian thinks he should be jealous of that ability, but all he feels is disgust. But also he feels, he realizes belatedly, the eyes of a stranger he stole a cigarette from, boring a hole in his head.

“Uh,” Xie Lian smiles, turning to face the man who’s looking at him questioningly. “Sorry?”

The man is handsome. Unfairly so. He’s wearing a leather trench coat, dark red and unbuttoned, flapping softly in the summer breeze. His long, black hair is messy and covers one side of his face. Xie Lian feels small, underdressed, and kind of cheap.

The man smiles at him as if Xie Lian is the supernova and it makes him feel even worse.

“That’s alright.” He smirks. “It’s about to burn you, though.”

Xie Lian looks at the cigarette clutched in his fingers and his eyes widen. It’s smoldering, slowly but surely, the red tip almost touching the dry skin of his knuckles now, and-

“Would you like me to take it back?” The man asks, sounding amused and gentle at the same time, reaching a hand towards Xie Lian’s.

“Oh.” Xie Lian is so lost, all of a sudden. “Sure?”

Long fingers swiftly pull the cigarette out of his hands, and in the reddish light of bar’s neon sign Xie Lian notices that stranger’s knuckles are all bloody.

“Are you okay?” He asks, before he can really think about it. The man chuckles quietly and Xie Lian flushes, suddenly wishing to be back in a stuffy bar.

“I’m quite alright. You should see the other guy, though.”

Xie Lian catches the man’s smooth hand movement and follows it with his eyes. He sees another man, tall and slim, wiping the blood off his lip with a back of his hand.

“Oh.” Xie Lian says. And then he falls silent. He’s not sure what to say next, not sure where to look. He has the feeling that the man in front of him is still looking at him, though he’s too anxious to actually look and check.

“Do you want a bandaid?” Xie Lian hears himself ask several long seconds later.

“I would love one.” Stranger practically purrs. Xie Lian looks at him, suddenly amused, and raises an eyebrow questioningly. He doesn’t seem to be that much concerned with the state of his hands, after all. Definitely not concerned enough to warrant a bandaid. But Xie Lian did suggest it, so he promptly fishes out his wallet from his back pocket and takes out a string of colorful bandaids he keeps in there just in case. When he rips one off and hands it to the stranger, though, the latter just looks at him, his visible eye suddenly shining and his brow furrowed.

“What?” Xie Lian asks.

“I don’t think I can apply it properly with just my left hand.” The man says, sounding every bit petulant that he doesn’t look.

Xie Lian finds himself obliging, nevertheless. He takes stranger’s cool hand and pretends he doesn’t notice it when it jerks minutely in his grasp. Ah! He asked for it, why does he seem surprised now?

With careful fingers Xie Lian places the bandaid so it covers first two knuckles, the ones where the skin is actually broken.

“There!” He smiles. “Feeling better now?”

“Much better.” The man answers, voice a little raspy. “Thank you.”

Xie Lian looks at him, then at his hand that he’s still holding, and feels his cheeks redden even more than before. He relaxes his fingers, expecting newly patched up hand to fall from his grasp, but it doesn’t. So, now he’s just awkwardly holding someone’s hand on his open palm. It feels way more intimate than it actually is, fuck.

Xie Lian kind of wants to fall through the cracks in the dirty, sticky asphalt under his feet.

[smolweeblets]

Through Kitty Cats And Kittens

Fade x Reader Valorant

Fade was an amazing woman. She was an incredibly formidable opponent with crazy good abilities and not to mention an incredible battle sense to go along with them. She knows just how to scheme to get her opponents to run around in circles. Not to mention how attractive she was while doing it. Her hard gaze could melt a hole right through you, and it only gets more intense when she's concentrated.

Needless to say, you have a massive crush on the woman. Everything she did just entranced you, you often find yourself having to rip your eyes away from her just to do even the simplest things in a mission.

Thats what made what you were doing now so daunting. You were instructed to knock at her quarters and inform her of something important. Her comm device was off and Brimstone needed her asap. You were just unfortunate enough to be the first agent to pass by. Curse Neon for waking you so early in the morning.

And so there you stood, in front of her door, trying to muster up some courage to knock.

Curse you and your pretty-girl-driven brain. This shouldnt be so hard, but the thought of just seeing and talking to her sent flutters up your spine.

You decided to just do it, and sent a few quick knocks.

A gruff sound you couldn't decipher (haha cypher) came from inside the room. Soon, the doors were opened and you finally got a glimpse of the woman herself.

She was wearing cat themed pajamas with cute little kittens, balls of yarn, and tiny fish littered all over her sleepwear. It contrasted with her current appearance, disheveled, messy and almost scary from how hard her gaze was. She was slightly flushed, not expecting the knock and having an agent see her in this state.

You almost gasped seeing her pajamas. She looked absolutely adorable, and you felt melting on the inside. You tried your best to gather your thoughts to form words, as she said something and was expecting an answer.

“What do you want.” She frowned.

“Brimstone has requested for you.” You scramble to answer. “It was urgent he said.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned. “Ugh, the one time I actually want to sleep…”

You smiled apologetically and were about to leave until your ears pricked when you heard a small mewl.

You looked down to the source of the sound and saw a small calico kitten trying to run out of the Turkish womans room. The woman looked indifferent but you heard her mutter a silent curse under her breath.

She scoops the little thing up. And it continues to mewl in her arms while she pet it to try to get it quiet. You notice a faint blush on her cheeks, realizing what she was wearing when she looked down to pick up the kitten.

“I didnt know pets were allowed here.” You curiously state. Your previous shyness melted when you saw the creature.

“Theyre not. You didnt see this.” The little thing yawned in her arms, making your heart melt.

“Whats its name?” You asked, looking at the kitten with a smile.

“None of your business.”

“Awwe, but its so cute, please?”

Fade sighs. “Her name is Churu.”

“Can I pet her?”

Fade looked at you incredulously, not believing that you were actually asking that.

“Please? I’ll steal you some of Cyphers expensive tea if you let me,” You look up to her hopefully. Youve seen her drink them from time to time, and youve also seen Cypher grumble about it constantly. Lately hes padded them with more security, so the offer mustve meant something.

She stares at you with that same incredulous look. She was frowning.

“God, I don't have the time for this. Just play with her in my room while I get ready for Brimstones meeting.”

Your face lit up as Fade handed you the small creature. You take her with glee, smiling wide at the cute cat in your hands. The woman quickly ushers you inside, not keen on anyone else seeing her little secret.

“Dont touch anything. Ill be out in 10 minutes at the most and so will you.” Fade sighs as she picks out a polo from her closet, planning to look at least somewhat presentable.

She enters her shower, and you take this time to take a look at her room. There wasnt much, the most notable thing was her desk area, having a pc with double monitors. Beside it was churus food and water bowls.

You played with the kitten with glee, savoring your time in your crushes room.

Wait.

You were in the room of the woman youve fell head over heels for since the moment you saw her, and you were playing with a cat.

YOU WERE IN FADES ROOM?

The realization took a while to get to you, but as it finally did, your face heat up. You were in Fades room. Fade. Probably the scariest and most closed off agent in the whole protocol. Well, probably after Viper, but that was besides the point. She just… let you in her room. Does she normally do that?

You shook your head no, she didnt, but its not like people just waltz up her door and ask to go inside. You still cant believe you did that. But you werer nothing special, the stars just aligned in your favor for the day. That or she just really wanted Cyphers tea, but either way, she let you in her room!

You could almost imagine the both of you laying on her bed after a long mission, tangled in each others bodies, indulging in each others warm embra–

“Ow!” You yelped in pain. Churu decided your finger looked appetizing and helped herself to a bite. Effectively interrupting your delusion. But to Churus disappointment, your finger was in fact, not food, and this caused her to jump when you unexpectedly moved it away.

“Yowch, that wasnt very nice of you.” You shook your hand from the pain. Thankfully, Churus teeth werent big enough to break skin yet, but damn it still hurt.

The kitten went on your lap, almost as if to apologize. But you knew that she was just finding somewhere warm to sleep after tiring herself out after a few good minutes of playing with you.

You sighed as you pet the kittens soft fur. Cats truly were the best.

Soon after Fade exits her bathroom fully dressed with her hair damp. You flushed slightly at her unstyled hair and quickly look back down on the kitten in your lap.

“Okay thats enough playtime, out you go.” Fade nods her head towards the doorway.

You pout, not keen on leaving so quickly. “Aw, okay…”

You gently set the small kitten on the floor and brush yourself out as you stand. Fade watches as Churu affectionately headbutts your leg and fights a smile.

“You can have her if you want. Saves me the trouble.” Fade offers suddenly. It really would help her. She didnt need to have Sage scold her and weaken her already little trust in her.

Your eyes widened at the offer. You werent quite sure you heard her right. Surely it would be extra work but a cat would be a great vice in this stressful job. Just imagining snuggling with the lil guy made you want to smile.

And either you were going crazy, or you saw the ghost of a gentle smile on Fades face as. It was only for a split second, but you dare not make a single comment on it. Dying was not on your to do list right now.

~~~~~

Fade stood in front of your door, small bundle in hand along with a large box by her feet, presumably containing all of Churus stuff. You quickly ushered her in and offered her a seat on your bed.

“No need, ill be out soon. Just know that you need to feed her at least thrice a day, theres an automatic food dispenser with a feed timer in the box for when we’re on missions, i personally refrain from using it otherwise because its a hassle to clean-”

Almost everything she said after that fell on deaf ears, you were just too happy to hear Fades voice. This is the most youve ever heard her talk, and you just couldnt get over how calming it was. You noticed the way her hands moved when she was enumerating all the things you needed to do and all the facial expressions she made as she though of any other advice she could give you.

Oh well, it was just a small kitten, how hard could it be? You would tackle the problems as they came. Plus, google existed.

“-You could probably get away with cleaning the litterbox every other day, since shes still small right now but its still best to do it every day just to be sure. I think thats about it, you got all that?”

You could do nothing but nod dumbly, pretending you had the slightest idea about a thing she talked about.

“...Right… Well, good luck with the little rascal. I'll be dropping by sometimes, don't think she's all yours.” Fade was halfway through the door already before you could even respond.

“Yeah, thanks again! Ill take good care of her!” You smiled as you waved.

Who would have thought you would adopt a cat in the protocol AND it would be the reason your crush visits your room!

Dear little Churu would be taken well of for sure

A/n: Holy shit tumblr user smolweeblet actually posts a serious oneshot!? More likely than you think.

This is super messy, and the ending is super open its practically begging for a part two. Dont expect one anytime soon though, still busy working on some requests, till next time you guys!

[imasadboi]

YanderePirate!Leon x Mermaid!Reader

Minors fuck off, please and thank you! This was just stuck in my lil head for a while and I went through with it, hope y'all enjoy. I may write more, depends if the inspo hits me or not. Shit was not beta'd so excuse any mistakes. . CW: blood, violence, use of weapons (harpoon), noncon, somnophilia, fingering, masturbation, reader is part fish. Lmk if I missed anything.

You first came into existence for him when he’d spotted you lounging on a rock, the sunlight making your skin glisten and your hair glow. His eyes trailed further down your body to notice your pert nipples, as a gentle sea breeze washed over your body. 

But what caught his eye the most, was your tail—virescent and refracting the sun’s light in a way that made it glimmer so beautifully. He had never seen something so captivating in his life. Obsession blossomed in his chest then, the need to have you flowing into his veins at a burning rate. At this moment, his only goal in life was to capture you and make you his.

Leon finds himself smiling as he sees his harpoon shoot right through your tail, the way your blood fills the grooves of your scales and melds flawlessly with the ocean water;

“Don’t struggle darling, you’ll only make it worse for yourself!” 

Your eyes involuntarily well up with tears, pain racking your body as you struggle to take in breaths. You flail in the water as your body is lifted, a loud cry escapes your throat as the unknown pirate hauls your body onto his ship—each pull causes the harpoon to jolt in your injury.

With a thud, your injured body lands on the deck; Leon has a rope in hand, roughly grabbing your arms and tying your wrists together.

“God, you look so much more beautiful up close, love.” Leon’s eyes trail across your body, lingering on your chest for a moment before eyeing the damage he just caused with his weapon. ‘I had to,’ he thinks, eyebrows furrowing with affliction, ‘She would have swam away.’

“I feel awful for this darling, but bear with me,” You follow his line of sight landing on the harpoon. You quickly realize what’s about to happen. 

“Wait, wait, wait, please don’t—,” a loud and agonizing shriek is heard, reverberating in Leon’s ears causing him to wince.

Sobs and whimpers pour from your mouth as Leon tosses the item aside, “Shh dear, you did so well. I’ll make you feel better in no time. I promise darling.” He cups your face, wiping heavy tears from your face with a gentle thumb—it should be his tongue instead.

Your tail sluggishly bleeds onto the wooden floor, your body working to heal itself in a timely manner. You look into those blue eyes, contrasting the warmth of your home;

“Why are you doing this?”

Leon stops the gentle strokes on your face, his face falling into blissful tranquility, “The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were mine darling.” 

It’s the last thing you hear as you succumb to darkness, the events taking a toll on your body. Leon feels his heart swell at the sight of you falling limp in his arms. He manages to slide an arm under your shoulders and your tail—struggling a bit with how slippery it is—and carries you into his quarters. 

He lays you down on his bed where he wraps a bandage over your gash, noticing the way it’s beginning to close on its own. He knew of some stories and tales of merfolk abilities but now, seeing it for himself, he finds himself in awe. Had he been someone else, someone who only found interest in obtaining their weight in gold, you would have been ripped apart. Killed. All for what could be exploited for man's benefit. Anger clouds his mind for a second, “Nobody can ever hurt you now, love.”

Leon runs a hand over your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear, “Nobody can ever hurt you now, love.”

He wants to leave you to rest but your prone body tempts that part of him he’s never felt so strongly before; desire. He can feel himself begin to harden at the thought of giving in. How dare you seduce him even while unconscious.

His hand slightly trembles as his fingertips make contact with the soft flesh of your stomach, feeling it rise with every pull of breath you take in and release. God, you look so beautiful. Those fingers make their way to the underside of your tit, before gliding onto your nipple. It perks at his touch and his excitement ramps up. How sensitive. His fingers grasp your nipple lightly, rolling it and pushing it into the supple flesh of your breast. He watches your face with rapport as he does so, your face gives no indication that you’re aware of his actions. 

The left hand trailing your body finally lands onto your tail, the scales under his touch feel moist yet smooth. There’s a gathering of scales that stand out among the others, his throat feels dry upon approaching it. With one finger, he gently moves the largest scale.

Now his mouth is practically salivating as his finger slowly reveals a seemingly normal looking pussy, only different in color—it matches the colors of your tail and he’s never found anything more beautiful. He takes a quick glance at your face and sees you’re still deep asleep.

He knows he shouldn’t, would rather see your live reactions to his touches, but he’s been dreaming about this for too long. Leon gingerly presses his pointer finger inside, taking note of how warm and wet you are. Your pussy seems to clench on the intrusion before relaxing. He slides it in and out, wanting to gather more of your wetness; It’s more viscous than other women he’s been with, creating a stupidly easy slip and slide for his finger.

Without hesitation, he dips two more fingers in, in awe as your pussy easily accepts them, like it was made for him. The other hand he had by your face moves to push his pants down, his dick already weeping with pre. He has enough restraint to keep from fucking you right then and there, instead removing his fingers from your hole and slathering the slick he accumulated from you onto his cock. He returns his fingers in you, this time with four. He begins to pump himself with the other, imagining he’s inside you instead.

There’s a slight strain to fingering you as he curls his fingers into the spongy part of your walls—which earns him a twitch of your tail and a cut-off whimper from you—while teasing the head of his dick. The arousal burns right through him, and Leon is unable to hold back from releasing deep moans and whimpers as he moves his hand faster. He sees your body start to squirm the more insistent he is with his digits, the urgency and deep need to make you cum with him hanging obsessively over his head.

You wake up with a feeling like something in your abdomen has snapped, and a loud moan shakily leaves your throat. Your pussy feels full and pulsates around the intruding object. On the other hand, Leon finally gives in and shoots load after load onto his shirt, hand, and thighs—the look of your face, pure bliss, tipping him over the edge. He awaits a tongue-lashing from you only to find you’ve gone back to sleep.

He removes his fingers from you with care, bringing them to his mouth. At the first taste of you, he moans. He sucks on his fingers until your essence is completely eliminated. He tucks himself back into his pants, still feeling breathless from having cum so intensely. If just this felt amazing, he can only wonder what it’ll be like when he’s finally in you.

[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

Monster

Julius in action, he's actually sweet when he's not murderous and vengeful (and by sweet i mean,,, see for yourself idk)

masterlist

TW: (not deadly) vampire attack in detail, blood drinking, head trauma, bit of gore, vampire whumper, human whumpee

The attacker came out of nowhere, knocking her off balance with incomprehensible force and they collided with the ground almost immediately.

"Shh, hey now" he pulled away just as fast as he attacked, she tried to catch the precious breath that had been forced out of her, but no matter how eagerly she tried, the oxygen she so desperately needed didn't seem to reach the bottom of her lungs. She felt like a fish pulled out of the ocean.

She could see his fangs, she saw the glistening saliva pull strings between the monster's lips.

She was distantly aware of her head bleeding, having been bashed into the wall, maybe the ground? She was flattened against some surface, that was certain.

"You'll make yourself pass out" he frowned, as if her reaction was disproportionate and unreasonable "I'm gonna let you go, you know" he added, like it was something trivial. From her point of view, being completely immobilized by the monster, with his deadly sharp fangs mere inches away from her skin, meant certain death.

She tried to scream, when she finally found it in herself to take a deeper breath, but he silenced her with one hand on an instant, continuing to shush her.

She was now certain they were lying on the ground. The initial confusion that followed her head being bashed into the ground started to fade, clearing her senses.

He seemed to observe her. With his fangs in plain sight, his attempt at soothing her did nothing. She could feel her heart bang against her ribs, as if it was trying to break free from its cage. She was sure he felt it as well, even through all their clothes.

"Let's make a deal" he breathed, he was so close to her, his teeth almost grazed her chin when he leaned in even more, whispering to her ear "I'm hungry, I'm going to have my fill. You stay still, and it won't hurt. Okay?" she nodded panicked as she was she could grasp the horrible reality of the situation.

The monster was going to rip her throat open and there was nothing to be done about it.

His hand left her mouth with a swift movement, viciously grabbing her hair and yanking her head to the side to bite down.

She opened her mouth, and yet again there was no sound coming out. No calling for help, not even a pained gasp.

She already forgot about his deal, as the first specks of pain processed in her wild rabbit brain as she started to struggle against his hold with little success.

As the monster relaxed, gulping down mouthfuls of blood, his body weighed her down like stone. The small movement she managed only ripped her skin farther, his jaw clamped down on her neck like a wolf feasting on a deer. It really only hurt when she moved so she gave up. She stilled to the best of her ability, though her hands still shook under him instinctively pushing the predator away.

She felt his tongue in the wound, he explored it with sloppy wet movements reaching every corner of it, even the tears she made trying to get away.

When he pulled away, she still saw the redness coating his mouth and teeth, which he quickly licked away, leaving absolutely no trace that the encounter ever happened. He sat up, still straddling her as he looked down, with his head cocked to the side, observing every move she made.

"I'll call an ambulance for you, you made a mess trying to fight me off" he patted down her sides, as he looked for her phone that he was sure she had in one of the pockets of her coat "I would've been fine just puncturing your skin, and moving on, you basically tore your neck in half" he traced the edges of the wound, that was already quickly repairing itself with the help of the vampire's venom, but not quick enough. She whined a broken and breathy sound, which he chuckled at. Her eyes widened in fear, as she came to the realisation that her vocal cords were torn as well in the ordeal. She tried her best to make a sound, any sound really, but her attempts proved to be futile, only earning her some more condescending shushes.

[smallraindrops-blog]

Reading your ideas for Y/n in Hades 2 brings me such joy. I have an idea in my head for him related to one of the levels, and I'm not going to spoil it, but I will say it seems to be able to... corrupt being in a way.

(Basically Boss Fight Y/n)

That said, I constantly think about Melinoë getting there and seeing who she thinks is a shade in need of help. He hasn't lost his form, but the closer she gets, the more... distorted he seem. His skin is scared, clothes torn and ripped, and he's deathly still. Black tar stains his fingers and feets (ichor she fears). She thinks she hears whispers the closer she gets, names and pleas she can't understand, and as she is just a few feet away, the shade whips round and barely a second later. There's a spear at her feet.

And as she looks up, there stands a Shade that looks at her with such anger, such disdain, she almost misses the desperation in his eyes.

This shade is skilled, fighting not only with his spear but his bare blackend and bloody knuckles. As the fight draws on she feels herself slowing down, knowing the shade won this round she returns to the shadows and as she hears the outraged scream that leaves the shade, she feels not fear, but pity.

When she returns, she consults Frinos, then tells Hecate and Odysseus about this shade, and she wouldn't forget how Odysseus paled, how Hecate looked so solemn. She misses how Hypnos twitched in his sleep when they told Melinoë who that shade might be.

As for Y/n? He can't discern who he's fighting most days. Everything is registered as an enemy in his head. Everything around him feels fuzzy, and he hurts, he's thinks his knuckles are broken, but he can't tell. His body aches but he hasn't been able to sleep in years. Not until someone lays him to rest.

So, he'll wait. Until someone can defeat him, he'll wait and listen to shadows that whisper and try to soothe to him, he'll listen to their lullabies until it time to fight once more.

Poor Melinoë has her work cut out for as a she a fights a guy who lost not only his family, but his husband and the ability to see who's friend and who's foe.

(Cough cough Apologies this got outta hand so enjoyyy)

Thank for the food!🍱 🙏 and never apologize for this! This is great! I love it so much. I keep rereading it this is so goooood.

funny enough, i think a while ago, i responded to an ask about what a possible boss fight for y/n and Hypnos might look like before Hades 2 was announced. But I can’t seem to find it rn.

putting the rest of my response under here. 

Oooooh I was wondering if there might be corruption elements due to the nature of witchcraft that is present in the game. So I was also thinking about a possible boss fight with y/n ( great minds think alike! That and it's just so much fun.) 

also Imagine poor Mel having to fight a family member due to possible corruption. Oooo or maybe a battle with Achilles himself…

But yeah I am just musing about Odysseus about this bit. Because here is the thing, he saw what Y/N was like in his prime. 

Achilles is the greatest warrior in his generation ( if fate had played out differently, Achilles would overthrow Zeus himself after all) but I would argue that Y/N could be a top contender for his own.  

Not to mention, he got one-on-one training from Achilles and from Chrion himself along with y/n’s own natural talent and killer instinct. 

I mean, how many people can say that? (And y/n is able to comfortably hold his own against Zagreus, a minor god himself. ) 

Odysseus had seen and heard what Y/N was capable of doing during the war, he saw the lad mowed a bloody path through battlefields, leaving broken corpses behind him. 

i also hc Odysseus had heard about y/n’s last battle against Ares, that he was able to temporarily defeat the god of war. And there are the things y/n did during his lost years before he ended up in that little fishing town.

A completely sane Y/N is already a dangerous foe to have, but one that is angry and hurting and that has lost his sanity is horrific. 

So Odysseus is like fuck.  

Because Mel is probably going to get defeated a lot before she is going to be able to get past a feral Y/N.

He does his best to help Mel, telling her everything he knows about how Y/N fights and what kinds of weapons might work against Y/N. And telling her to try to avoid him all together, until they can get Y/N back to normal or Mel gets stronger. 

And poor y/n. I imagine when not fighting, he is just trying to follow the whispers, sure that whoever is speaking to him will be able to smooth his hurt. 

Sometimes he can almost see a face in his memory, hazy like the river lethe. He felt like if he could just focus, he could make out the face - a smile?  Golden as nectar ? Maybe, the voice is so airy so quiet- but he can’t, it dissipates the moment he tries, so he is chasing after a ghost.

and yeah, most of the time he can’t tell if he is in the middle of fall of Troy or somewhere else, with Ares looming over him or Pyrrhus’ mad laughing, or Achilles’ screams of grief.

And maybe Hypnos is completely aware that Y/N is hurting, but unable to help him so he feels even more trapped in his own hell. He doesn’t want Y/N to get killed again ( it is just different when it is y/n, Zagreus was meant to die over and over.)

but Hypnos is at the point where he has to admit that it might be the only way to get Y/N back to normal. He just hopes Mel does it quickly. 

I like to think Melionë would go to Hypnos after the conversation and try to reassure him that she is going to do her best to help y/n and don’t worry, she is going to reunite them. Just have faith in her please. 

I just realized that I kinda repeated what you said but yeah, I'm gonna be thinking about this a looooot. 

[fleetsonourgecentral]

A request: Ebony celebrates Fleetway Super birthday along with the freedom Fighthers celebrathing Sonic's birthday (so Super and Sonic share a birthday celebration :D) but Scourge IS jealous because he doesn't get any gifts

Adfjdasfjds Scourge being jealous for petty reasons my beloved

~~~

"This doesn't seem fair," Scourge grumbled, folding his arms and glaring at his surroundings like he could set the decorations alight with his eyes alone. Unfortunately, getting zapped by the Master Emerald didn't seem to grant him those powers, but hey, it was always worth double checking.

"Life isn't fair," Sonic said, smug smirk fully plastered on his face as he lounged on his throne for the day. The throne in question was nothing more than an old armchair fished out of the dump, and was covered in rips and clearly falling apart, but it was clean (thanks to Tekno's efforts) and it was the nicest chair the Freedom Fighters owned, so they made do.

Scourge was surprised they were putting in the effort at all. Sonic's ego was so big it was a wonder his head didn't swell and become too heavy for his body to carry; there was really no need to stroke his ego by giving him a throne.

For some reason, though, the Freedom Fighters, despite usually being extremely enthusiastic about keeping Sonic's ego in check, had decided today was an exception. It was his birthday, after all.

"How did you even get all this?" Scourge said. Thankfully, none of the cheesy "happy birthday" banners had been strung up on the wall - those were dumped on Ebony's doorstep - but in their place were custom-made banners proudly congratulating the Hero of Mobius on another year of victory over Robotnik. Over the top and unnecessary, considering the victory in question was mostly just his continued survival, and thus his continued ability to be a future pain in the ass.

Not that Robotnik didn't have it coming, but still.

"We made them!" Tails chirped from where he was stringing up another banner, this one declaring today as Sonic Day. "Tekno designed most of the banner so it would look cool enough that Sonic won't complain, and then Amy and I helped decide what they should say, and then we all painted them together!"

"And you didn't invite me?"

"We both know you would've told us all to fuck off if we asked you to help," Amy said, although the teasing smile on her face showed her comment was light-hearted instead of irritated. Gross.

"These aren't new, anyway," Tekno said. "We made these before you arrived, so you couldn't have helped. Unless you found a way to time travel. If you find an easy way to time travel, let me know?"

"Sure, whatever."

And now that Scourge was looking, the banners did seem a little worn. Small rips on the edges, colors dulled, the paper crinkled; obviously reused over the years. He nudged one of the banners crumpled on the floor with his foot, then picked it up to inspect it, holding it with his thumb and forefinger. Sonic's painted winking face greeted him, and Scourge sneered at it. On the back of the banner, he could see a cluster of signatures. Some he recognised - Tails and Amy - while some he'd never heard of - who in the world was Shortfuse? - and some... well, some were just initials, none of which he recognised. He certainly didn't remember any friends of Sonic's who went by J.L.

"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to help?" Amy said, lightly elbowing him as she passed, snatching the banner from his hands.

"What's it look like? I'm gonna stand here."

"No you're not. Help Tekno bring the gifts in."

"I'm not participating in this. You do shit like this then wonder why he's an arrogant dickhead."

"Is it arrogance if it's justified?" Sonic said.

"Justify my foot up your ass," Scourge said, just as Tekno dragged him away.

The pile of presents was bigger than it had any right to be. The Freedom Fighters didn't have much money - apparently fighting for the safety of the entire fucking planet doesn't pay well, or at all, which is bullshit and all the more reason for Scourge to find the whole thing stupid - so none of them could really afford to go all-out with the presents, but the bulk of the pile came from local civilians who had caught wind of the celebration and wanted to express their gratitude. Over the past week during their travels, civilians would stop them, shyly handing over presents and telling them they were for Sonic's birthday, a token of their appreciation for constantly saving their asses, because they couldn't be bothered to do it themselves.

No one said that last bit out loud, but Scourge always made sure to mentally add it.

Why they couldn't express their gratitude with some fucking cash, he did not know.

"Grab the presents by the table?" Tekno said, scooping presents into her arms. For what it was worth, although the pile was bigger than one would expect, at least most of the presents were small.

Groaning with all the contempt he could muster, Scourge shuffled over to the table and started tucking presents under his arms.

"Did you drop off everything at Ebony's?" Tekno said. Her voice was low, hidden by the rustle of the presents, only loud enough for Scourge to hear. Not that he thought Sonic could hear them when they were out here, but better safe than sorry.

"Whaddya take me for? Of course I did," Scourge said, voice equally low, although that was more for Tekno's peace of mind than his own. She'd shush him if she thought he was being too loud, but she was also really bad at shushing people quietly, and ended up attracting attention with her shushes more often than not. It was really counterproductive. Scourge didn't know why Sonic had let it slide for this long.

"Just making sure."

Scourge grunted, but he did give the rest of the presents an obligatory once-over, just to be sure there weren't any that shouldn't be there.

Super's birthday fell on the same day as Sonic's. It was why all the cheesy banners had been dumped on Ebony instead of in the trash where they belonged. The Freedom Fighters - okay, mostly Tekno - thought it was a good idea to send a few presents over from all of them, as a gesture of goodwill and minor bribery to please not turn evil and try to kill them all again. It was a plan Sonic had been conveniently left out of; even with their less strained relationship (although that really wasn't saying much) it was blatantly obvious he still wasn't fond of Super. He wouldn't stop them from giving him birthday presents, or wanting to wish him a happy birthday, but he would wrinkle his nose and mutter a comment under his breath, which was apparently a problem, although Scourge hadn't figured out why.

Ebony had asked if they wanted to stop by, even tentatively offered a joint birthday celebration if that would make things easier, but she was swiftly turned down. Presents were a safe bet, the Freedom Fighters had agreed, because they could be dropped off at any time, and Sonic would never have to know, and they could wish Super a happy birthday without ever leaving Sonic's side on the actual day. And they could send Scourge to be their little delivery boy so none of them would have to do it; despite the olive branch, Tails and Amy were still wary of Super. Apparently Scourge and (somehow) Tekno were the only ones who weren't little bitches about him.

Well, Sonic wasn't a little bitch exactly, but he wasn't as cool and casual about Super as he wanted to be. So he didn't count.

"I'm just saying," Scourge said, hefting as many presents into his arms as he could, "if you're going to make the decorations look like a 'congrats on kicking ass without dying' celebration, we should all be getting presents."

"It's not your birthday, though."

"I'm his boyfriend, though. Shouldn't I get, like, a solidarity present?"

"No, because it isn't your birthday."

Scourge bit back a comment about how if Super got to have a birthday just because he was another Sonic, then logically, so should he. Because, well, it wasn't his birthday, even though all the celebration really made it feel like it should be. He thought birthdays for Sonics were the same across all dimensions - he was pretty sure he shared a birthday with Prime, eugh - but apparently not.

With another exaggerated groan, he shuffled back into the living room with the presents towering high above him, because second trips were for chumps, and dumped them at Sonic's feet. His own gift wasn't in there, but only because he'd already given it to Sonic this morning. The moment he woke up, in fact. Scourge wasn't about to be beaten by anyone in anything, including being the first person to give Sonic a gift.

Not that it was anything special. Scourge wasn't exactly rolling in money either, and Sonic was a pain in the ass to shop for. Humiliation had nipped at his heels when he handed the gift over, ready to burn him, but Sonic seemed to really like it - underneath the obligatory layer of snark - so it was fine.

Probably.

He eyed the pile of presents again, and tried not to gnaw on his lip.

Some of the civilians who gave them presents looked... well, not well-off, but comfortable. Not rich, not even close to rich, but able to at least afford something nice for the Hero of Mobius. More than Scourge could afford.

More than any of the Freedom Fighters could afford, though, and Sonic didn't really give a shit about his fans outside of the inherent bragging rights that come with having fans in the first place. None of those civilians knew what Sonic liked. The Freedom Fighters did. Scourge did.

He doubted any civilian signatures were on the back of the banner he picked up.

A party thrown by civilians probably wouldn't look like this at all. That would be far more elaborate, with more people pitching in to help, even more vomit-worthy banners and decorations hung from every wall and banister, singing the praises of Sonic the Hedgehog. Over the top, and licking his ass, and making a huge deal out of him. Exactly the kind of celebration Sonic would like; he always loved it when people lavished him with praise for his efforts in saving the world, the arrogant bastard.

Sonic didn't have any of that, this year. Oh, sure, the party would stroke his ego, but it wasn't lavish. Compared to what he could have, it was almost humble.

But. He didn't look upset by it. Didn't even feign annoyance that it wasn't as big as it could be.

Scourge couldn't remember any of his own birthdays looking like this growing up. No friends surrounding him, bickering as they hung birthday banners or fetched presents or argued over the cake. No shitty birthday chair fished out of the dump. No lavish party to sing his praises. His birthdays weren't humble like this one, but they weren't extravagant, either.

They were... cold. Empty. There was no soul in the presents, no warmth in the candle of the cake. No signatures on the back of a hand-made birthday banner.

Scourge swallowed down the ugly feeling in his stomach.

Whatever. He didn't need any of that shit. He was Scourge the fucking Hedgehog, he knew exactly how great he was. Who needed a giant party? Not him. He wasn't that fragile.

"Scowl any harder and your face will get stuck."

Scourge flipped Sonic off without even looking. "Eat shit, birthday boy."

"Are you sulking because Pixel Brain jumped on you this morning when he came to wish me a happy birthday?"

"He crushed my fucking ribs," Scourge complained, glad for something to focus on. The interruption had been rude, and Tails was fortunate they were already awake; had he done that shit while Scourge was still asleep, he would've gotten an ass full of quills.

"Right. And you're definitely not sulking because you wanted to cuddle."

"I don't cuddle."

"Bullshit you don't."

"I don't. You have no proof."

"Then you're gonna start."

Before Scourge could say a word of protest, Sonic grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him onto his lap.

"Fuck off and let me go," Scourge snapped, shifting to get comfortable.

"It's my birthday," Sonic said, smirking his stupid, smug, victorious grin. "That means you have to do what I say."

"I'm not doing shit, you can't tell me what to do, birthday or not," Scourge said, leaning further into Sonic when he wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

"You'll get the chair when it's your birthday, if it's any consolation."

"Fuck the chair! What about my presents?"

"We'll see."

"Asshole," Scourge grumbled, biting Sonic lightly on the shoulder to emphasize his point, but he only got an amused chuckle in return.

"You're getting off when the cake gets here," Sonic said.

Huffing, Scourge snuggled further into Sonic. They'd see about that.

[faultlies]

[outis. it keeps happening.]

disgust runs behind every subtle tug, correcting the captain's tie with militant precision. the sun had only risen under an hour prior, both of them having woken up with it- and the both of them carrying on with thier personal business as if neither of them were there. 'good mornings' were pleasantries afforded to other people, not them, not anyone like them. outis glares at a particularly annoying crease on her shirt, tightening the tie before confirming nothing had otherwise fallen out of place.

"… you better not be having regrets now." her usual bitter tone - whether it'd been in jest, a warning to ahab, or a reminder to herself was unclear.

@aeinsof | hey do you know why my geiger counter's so loud

Fine morning for a smoke.

The captain was already puffing away at her pipe when her companion stirred. Leaned back against the headboard, she'd been watching the smoke-rings; hunting whales in the little white clouds before they dissipated into nothingness. Only the shifting of a weight leaving the bed caught her interest. A half-lidded eye followed Outis's exit.

She didn't rise to follow. Rather, a toothy grin formed around Ahab's pipe. Propping one elbow against the pillows and the other against her good leg, she twisted herself onto her side that she could indulge in a far more interesting view than the sunrise.

'Twas rare for Ahab to risk a slow morning. 'Twas rarer for her to risk taking her sights off the Pallid Whale at all. She slept eyes-wide-open; ate when she couldn't lift a harpoon. Drank when doubts settled in her crew after a poor haul. Her sallow skin clung tight to her ribs, with barely enough flesh to pool in her belly and hang off her biceps. She had muscle, but nothing quite like the woman on the other side of the bed.

Streams of city-light and sunlight caught the small of Outis's back; the tense flex of her shoulder-blades. A tapestry of scars hearkened the captain back to her quarters, where wood carved with effigies of that damnable whale awaited her. Ahab looked to the freshest ones, for the bruises and bite marks left in the wake of her own storm, and hunted for her target in them.

Such a luxury, to waste time on a pretty view.

But today was for the market, and no doubt her crew were already mingling amongst the fishmongers and tourists with the voyage's haul. Loathe as it was to waste time at port, her men needed food and a break. She needed it especially (or so Starbuck claimed). Morale to the soul was what food and drink were to the body. If her soul was to hold fast against the Pallid Whale, she must feed it luxury.

Alas, all luxuries were temporary, and Outis buttoned up her shirt.

Ahab huffed, sitting up to tap out her pipe in a complimentary nightstand ash tray that was practically a necessity for even the cheapest of port-side inns. Her joints creaked as she did, sending satisfying shocks of force rolling through her old bones. She rubbed the back of her neck - then snapped her head, feeling the pop of a stubborn crick. That was followed by the sort of lax, full-body stretch that would make even the laziest of cats wistful.

She yawned like she spoke; a rumbling drawl that drowned out all other sound. Peals of thunder on a clear day.

Scratching her bony ass, Ahab leaned over to fish her clothes off the floor. First came her undergarments, then her pants. Her prosthetic was an affair worthy of a whistled tune, regardless of her companion's opinion on the captain's singing ability. She tucked in her pants - the only thing she'd bothered to tuck - and, at last, threw her undershirt and coat over her shoulders. Her dirty, worn coat that stunk like the Lake.

For the Lake was her only tailor, and such was its branding. She knew that any fashion she fancied would be damned out on the water; ripped off her back by salty winds and shred to pieces by the claws of Mermaids. Her captain's uniform would be what she slew the whale in, and so that'd be all she'd keep. Fine by her, she'd say.

Any chance to spend a few more seconds hunting her whale was worth the sacrifice.

Yet, when she reached for her cap, her companion barked for her to come over. Even her first mate wouldn't dare be so brazen - but Ahab could only bother to be amused by the uptight bravado. Such an endearing attitude for a castaway; like one of those tiny stray dogs that thought themselves bigger than they were. It was fun to humor, and today she had nothing but the time for it.

She made her way over to the front of the bed where her companion awaited her, tossed her cap onto the mattress, crossed her arms behind her back, and stood tall with a pleased smile.

When Outis began buttoning her shirt for her, she chuckled. The captain even leaned down, granting the smaller woman easier access to her necktie.

"Aren't you sweet," She practically purred.

She caught the glare, and the end of the captain's lop-sided grin reached a touch closer to her ear. Such a plea for control in those tired eyes - such frustration at the struggle for it. An amusing 'honor' for a general. Ahab thought the view into a woman who couldn't admit she was at the end of her rope, even when clinging to her captain, may have been a nice-to-have aboard the Pequod for when rum turned to grog and stockfish spoiled.

Ah, but that'd be a distraction. A nice-to-have, but an obstacle. She only needed to feed her soul when it threatened to break, and her humanity wasn't so heavy a shackle for the mighty Ahab. Her destiny was enough to keep her soul content.

Even this indulgence was but another wind in the sails of her fate.

"Regrets?!" She cackled; a booming sound punctuated by a cough of overexertion, "Only regret I have is that the accursed whale isn't dead! Aye, and even that is but a matter of fate. I told you, didn't I? The Lake drowns who we were at shore. The choices of ghosts don't matter."

The captain leaned in closer, stopping only when their noses threatened to touch and she was certain her companion smelled the tobacco on her breath. Waterfalls of wild gray hair cascaded down her shoulders, drowning the other woman's vision in Ahab. A hand snaked up between their chests, catching the end of Outis's tie. She cradled it there, massaging the soft fabric between her leathery fingers.

Her smirk had morphed into a playful Cheshire's grin.

"Unless you're wanting to invite ghosts aboard?"

Up snuck her other hand, catching the Windsor knot Outis had so carefully tied around Ahab's neck. Her gaze was piercing. She never broke eye-contact as she gave both their nooses a gentle yank. She didn't completely undo Outis's hard work; just enough so that they both hung loose. Ahab let go.

"Too tight, lass," the captain smirked as she put on her cap.

She turned away - and promptly shattered the room's sense of calm with a loud, impromptu rant about breakfast. Fate had guided them to their quarters, she said - for the cookie downstairs imported the nice chicken from K. Corp, eggs and all. A hearty omelette would be a deserving conclusion to their stay, before they'd have to part for the day. She'd be paying, of course. Outis would need her Ahn for all the ship parts she'd be arranging for that day.

By the time they'd left the inn, Ahab's tie had come undone.

[twolizardsfromkugane]

Welcome to this blog! Here you’ll find my two Au Ras, Valcius and Harukage.

This blog is 18+ only!!!

Any thing about them will be shared here because I want to scream about them non-stop.

Any art that I do will be posted on my main (@cosmicvoidance) and reblogged here.

Anyway, time to meet them! Information on them below the cut. Their information will be updated as I flesh them out more and more.

~~~~~ The Boys ~~~~~

*** Valcius Cresthill ***

BASIC INFORMATION

Nicknames/Other Names: Val, Brute (Haru only), Daitari Dotharl (birth name - no longer uses), my moon (Haru only), Vallie (Haru when he’s being annoying)

Race/Clan: Au Ra/Xaela

Age: 23 (ARR) — 33 (DT)

Height: 7 fulms 1 ilm

Gender: Cis Male (he/him)

Nameday: 7th Sun of the 6th Umbral Moon

Guardian: Ralghr

Birthplace: Azim Steppe

Current Home: Mist

Sexuality: Polyamorous Homosexual

Main Job: Monk/Reaper

Occupation: Warrior of Light, adventurer

PHYSICAL TRAITS

Hair: Black that fades into white towards the ends. Usually kept in braids with his bangs being swept upwards. When not in braids it reaches to his mid-back.

Eyes: Smokey grey

Limbal Ring Color: white

Skin Color: lavender

Scars: 1) The most obvious scar is on his back — a section of scale was ripped off by his biological older brother in an attempt to kill him when he was almost 8. This has left an area of scale that has not healed properly on his left shoulder blade and is now deformed. He used to keep it covered at all times. 2) one near his left eye that goes back into his hairline (barely noticeable) 3)various other ones from battle

Piercings: both of his nipples, certain NSFW ones

FAMILY

Parents:

Biological: he doesn’t care to remember them since they only cared about him because of his battle potential. They treated him coldly. Mother was a Dotharl mage and his father was a Dotharl spearman.

Adopted: two Elezen scholars who were documenting the cultures of the various tribes of the Steppe when he was left for dead by his brother. Took him in and back home to Kugane. They raised Valcius as their own son and gave him his current name. Valcius considers them as his actual parents more than his biological ones.

Siblings:

Biological: one older brother. Was jealous of how quickly Valcius was able to take to different kinds of physical combat quickly and thought he was a threat to his own glory. Tricked Valcius into following him outside of the village where he attacked Valcius and left him for dead, ripping out part of his back scales as poof of his “death by wild animal.”

Adopted: one older brother and one older sister, both Elezen. They both treat Valcius as if he was their real brother. Love to tease Valcius about his crush on/relationship with Harukage.

Other: Harukage’s family, especially his parents, treated him like their own. They never judged him for any reason.

His adoptive grandparents — they own a shop in Kaugane’s market and are always happy to have Val help with the heavy lifting. Treat him as their own grandson.

The scions are like a family to him. There are some that he’s a bit wary about (mainly Thancred and Urianger) but is for the most part good friends with all of them.

Children: none at the moment. Maybe adopt one or two children with Haru if and when they are able to settle down.

Pets: none

RELATIONSHIPS

Harukage Daitou: childhood friend. Now boyfriend/lover. Was the first one to talk to him after he first arrived in Kugane and had recovered enough to wander the city. Valcius thought he was annoying at first but they grew to be inseparable.

SKILLS

Abilities: since he was a child, he could pick up on any type of melee combat easily, especially hand-to-hand. He relies on his speed to out maneuver his enemies.

Hobbies: cooking, reading (massive bookworm), training, music (singing and playing instruments), fishing and mining

TRAITS

Most Positive Trait: he’s loyal. May not look it but has a heart of gold. Extremely protective of Harukage.

Most Negative Trait: emotionally constipated. Way too prideful and will not ask for help when needed. Way too confident in himself and leads to situations where he gets hurt.

LIKES

Colors: deep dark colors, black

Smells: vanilla, the sea, campfire

Textures: furs, leather, and metal

Drinks: tea, water, ale, mead, coffee

OTHER DETAILS

Smokes: maybe when around friends as a social thing

Drinks: mostly around friends. He does have a drink with Haru once and awhile when they are home alone to relax

Drugs: never has.

Been Arrested: beside canonically in game. He has gotten into trouble with the bakufu mostly for things that he never did.

** Harukage Daitou **

BASIC INFORMATION

Nicknames/Other Names: Haru, Ru (Val only), my sun (Val only)

Race/Clan: Au Ra/Raen

Age: 22 (ARR) — 32 (DT)

Height: 6 fulms 6 ilms

Gender: Nonbinary (he/they)

Nameday: 29th Sun of the 2nd Astral Moon

Guardian: Thaliak

Birthplace: Kugane

Current Home: Mist

Sexuality: Polyamorous Homosexual

Main Job: White Mage/Summoner/Dancer

Occupation: Warrior of Light, adventurer

PHYSICAL ASPECTS

Hair: Blond that is dyed green towards the ends. Goes down to his hips when not put up. Usually is up in a high ponytail.

Eyes: Purple

Limbal Rings: lavender

Skin: Tan

Tattoos/scars: intricate tattoo on forehead. Minimal scars that are too light to notice on his skin. Has a crack in the scales of his left ankle.

Piercings: his bellybutton

FAMILY

Parents: own a tea house and a bathhouse/inn in Kugane. Had Haru help around the businesses as a kid.

Siblings: an older sister and brother and twin younger sisters. All of them are very close. The older siblings tried to get Haru to confess to Val many times. He likes to gossip with his younger sisters about boys and they tease him about his crush on Val before the two are together. They still tease him about their relationship because the boys are sappy with one another.

Other: the Scions are like a family to him and so are Val’s adoptive family. Still has his grandparents on both sides of his family and various aunts and uncles.

Children: none because of their hectic lives. Would love to adopt with Val if and when they can.

Pets: none

RELATIONSHIPS

Valcius Cresthill: childhood friend. Now boyfriend and lover. Met on one of Kugane’s bridges when his mother sent him to the market on an errand. Saw Valcius looking over the railing into the water and was curious about him since he had never seen a Xaela before. He forgot about the errand and came back to his parents’ tea house with Valcius in tow. They have been inseparable ever since.

SKILLS

Abilities: has an affinity for magick. Can quickly learn spells from multiple disciplines

Hobbies: painting, cooking, music (singing and playing instrument), dancing, botany

TRAITS

Most Positive Trait: he can make a joke about anything to lighten the mood. Loyal. Always willing to lend a hand. Will try to comfort anyone who needs it.

Most Negative Trait: is a stubborn asshole. Once he has made up his mind, good luck changing it. Is a horrible liar. Can be forgetful. He can be unsure of his abilities and sees himself as a burden at times.

LIKES

Colors: bright colors, greens and pinks

Smells: lavender, anything Val cooks

Textures: silk, furs

Drinks: tea, wine

OTHER DETAILS

Smokes: not even when he’s around friends

Drinks: usually only drinks when around friends and when relaxing with Val

Drugs: none

Been Arrested: never has and he would like to keep it that way.

[meilas]

Socks' Ultimate Phantoms list

Phantoms

Franc D'Ambrosio - Yes. Brings all the sad noises and I am here for it. Nice voice. Excellent acting and facial expressions. Very expressive eyes. Is a cinnamon roll irl. Gary Mauer - Best voice ever. 10/10 would believe this man was an angel. Greg Mills - Looks like a cinnamon roll, will kill you. I never thought tongue action could be sexy but here we are. Ted Keegan - Looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll. Surprisingly sexy. Killian Donnelly - Looks like a cinnamon roll. I can't explain why I like him, but I do. Christopher Carl - I've only heard audio of him but I like him based on how he sobbed on the golden angel. Jeremy Stolle - Nice voice. Acting is too subtle. Peter Karrie - I love how he takes certain notes up a step, just to show that he can. Slightly nasally, but tolerable. Davis Gaines - tbh all I remember really is him slowly rocking his hips while he was sprawled on the portcullis and I now judge all phantoms on a metric of how good their pants look. 9/10 his pants. Peter Joback - I absolutely hated him when he sang in English. I liked him a little better when he did the show in Swedish. James Hume - Unmemorable. Michael Nicholson - Excellent acting choices. Was thinking about him for two weeks after watching. I just really like the production in German, okay? Earl Carpenter - Better in his earlier runs. Good acting choices. Simon Pryce - Very deep voice. Stands nicely. Scott Davies - He looked like fun and I wanted to like him. Noped out of that one pretty quick. Too much vibrato. Anthony Crivello - From the Vegas boot! I actually don't remember too much about him. But I know I liked the boot! Ben Crawford - Tended to have really weird pronunciation toward the end of his run. He was decent when I saw him right after the Broadway reopening. The most remarkable thing he did was to belly slide all the way across the stage during STYDI. Other than that, I recall nothing specific. Thiago Arancam - Remarkable only in the fact that he is boring. Uwe Kroger - The boob-stroking guy. I remember nothing else. Cooper Grodin - Entertaining in the fact that his acting is so wooden. Nice voice when he's not doing blocking at the same time. Good pants. It helps that he never skips leg day. Laird Mackintosh - I think he was good? I honestly don't remember. Geronimo Rauch - I remember I liked him! Norm Lewis - Nice voice, a little boring. Sorry Norm. John Owen-Jones - Hands. Michael Crawford - Absolutely not. I do not understand what anyone sees in him. His voice sounds like it's about to snap any second, and he is very unsexy. David Shannon - Yes. Absolutely yes. Excellent acting choices and nice voice. Does sad very well. Deserved better. Saulo Vasconcelos - All I can recall is @wheel-of-fish spamming the chat with "hands" all night and that's all anyone really needs to know about his Phantom. Ethan Freeman - Looks like a goddamn stick insect during Final Lair and I am here for it. Looks like Tony Shaloub. Bronson Norris Murphy - Technically only was the Phantom in Love Never Dies. RIP. He deserved better. Anyway. His voice is a little deeper than Franc's or Gary's. I wish he had gotten a chance to play the Phantom in POTO proper. I am very curious as to how he would have played it. Looks like a cinnamon roll, is a burnt cinnamon roll. Ramin Karimloo - He was my intro to POTO on stage. I liked his performance enough that I went looking for more clips of the musical, and found the Saturday Streams. Eiji Akutagawa - Ah yes. The self-groping Phantom. That's all I can remember about him. Josh Piterman - Does sad very well. Gerard Butler - My first-first Phantom. I still like him. There's something about his voice that I do actually like, and it annoys me very much when people go "he can't sing" yes he can, everyone has the ability to sing. Just shut up and let me enjoy what I like in peace. Hugh Panaro - Great voice, excellent acting. Funny. Fun to watch. Reminds me of Franc, in that they're both innocent/childish. Hugh is more childish and angry. Looks like he could kill you, and he might, it depends on his mood.

PART TWO

[hungry-skeleton]

I have returned once again to infodump about the guys from the Swap Force prototype Shapeshifters and how their character designs were absolutely massacred in the final games, this time we talk about arguably the biggest downgrade IMO, which is what happened to Krayken and how they basically went so far away from his original concept that they basically made an entirely different character.

So in his initial design Krayken was honestly really cool, funny little fish dude with a fish head for his left hand, honestly has a lot of fun potential for a cool backstory IMO where he has another living creature acting basically like a living prosthetic limb.

But alas, we wouldn't be blessed with such a fun and unique character, because during play testing for Shapeshifters the random kids they asked to try out the game said that they didn’t like his bubble move purely because “it didn’t do any damage” (yet nobody bats an eye at all the winged characters in SSA who got a flying upgrade that basically just wastes a third move slot, at least Krayken’s bubbles actually DID something…) and it was all downhill from there. They then went on to create Rip Tide (yes, Krayken was a prototype of Rip Tide apparently), who IMO has a much less appealing design than Krayken, IDK man the bulbous chin makes him look, inbred to me? That might be a tad harsh TBH but that bloated chin can’t be healthy…

And the most insulting part of all of this? THEY STILL KEPT THE BUBBLE ABILITY ANYWAY DESPITE IT BEING THE EXACT THING THAT THE KIDS COMPLAINED ABOUT. They gave it to Wash Buckler BTW in case you were curious, but that aside thanks for listening to my insane ramblings about a Skylander that was absolutely bastardized in development.

KRAYKEN RULES WHY DID THEY CHANGE HIM?? Riptide is literally no one's favorite who is he for

[disengagedspirit]

Time: Mid-February, in the year 2024 Content Warnings: Unsanitary tw

"Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?" — Black Phillip, "The Witch"

The stinging sensation that was starting to take over her pale, nearly translucent skin felt like something of a dream. In fact, as the smell of burning flesh wafted through the air and into her nostrils, the realization that had once been long forgotten immediately returned as red glowing eyes shot open and shifted onto the man who had discovered her buried corpse. There were no words. Only an insatiable hunger that was aching to be filled, but without the ability and strength to free herself from the nail driven through her heart, she simply laid there in wait like a lion praying on its victim. However, the closer he got in his attempt to free her, the sweeter his blood smelled, and when he had just come into reach, close enough for her to use what little strength that did remain, Mercy sank her elongated fangs into his neck, ripping out the flesh leaving the blood to drain out onto her thanks to the gift of gravity.

As she consumed what she could, before he pulled back and flailed around like a fish on the ground, it gave her just enough strength to rip the huge nail from the confines of aged wood and her chest. And like that of something wild, Mercy leaped out of the coffin and scurried over to the wounded man further sinking her teeth into the injured area as she drank feverishly a long awaited meal.

It was almost as if she were trying to set a record in how fast she could drain him – her mind victim to the parasite that lived inside her, and once she was finished, she fell back to the ground as the nearly 400 year fog seemed to escape her brain. The relief and calmness didn’t last long though when she realized that she had just stolen another life, sending her back to the morning she had awakened to find her maid laying on the floor of her Salem home resembling that of the deceased man laying next to her. And without being able to control it, she let out a heartbreaking cry followed by scurrying backwards away from the body horrified by yet another death at her hand.

“Just call me angel of the morning, Angel. Just touch my cheek before you leave me, Baby!” The words rangout from nearby, causing Mercy to jump, and on closer inspection she realized it was coming from the dead man’s pants. Cautiously approaching him, she stuck her hand into his pocket and slowly pulled out the small somewhat heavy device as the ringtone repeated itself. A picture flashed up on the screen of a man leaving Mercy with furrowed eyebrows, but before she could get a good look at it, the phone shut off and went black.

Tossing it on the ground out of fear, she forced back the knot in her throat, before standing to her feet and wiping her mouth off with her arm. Her tattered and dirt marked clothing from the 1600s now stained with fresh blood. And just before she could catch her breath, the same song filled the air loudly, startling her once more knowing that if she lingered here any longer, there was a pointing finger waiting to accuse her of yet another crime she knew she was guilty of, unlike most of the women who had once been accused many years ago for being something they were not.