#water washed boulders | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellecdc · 5 months ago

Note

pls tell me u will write a part 2 for not alone?🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

took me a while to get this to feel cohesive (also couldn't decide for the longest time what I wanted the outcome to be for a few people so that took a while to figure out) and I'm still not 100% sure it reads cohesively but I hope you all like it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader who they are 'worried' about...whatever that means [2.2k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

CW: hostage situation, attempted overtaking of camp, brief and hardly noticeable implied suggestion of SA, death of minor and unnamed character, blood, injury, Sirius being an arrogant son of a bitch even when his life is at risk

You have quickly come to realise why the boys chose this location to set up camp since agreeing to stay with them.

It was in a rural, secluded area with a small population prior to the End Of The World As You Knew It which left it almost next to empty now, but it was still in walking distance of a small town with various shops that they could pilfer when they began running low on supplies.

There was a creek about half a kilometre behind the barn that they could use to collect drinking water and also to bathe and wash their clothes.

And need to bathe and wash your clothes did you ever.

So, whilst “keeping an eye on the encampment” (which was really just a polite translation of none of the boys trusting you enough with their safety to bring you along on a run into town), you opted to head down to the creek to clean up.

The water was freezing, but you breathed through the pain in your toes and fingers as you waded into the water, reminding yourself that feeling pain meant you were alive - that you were still here.

You used to fear pain - before - but now you almost craved it; now you found comfort in the discomfort, knowing that it meant you had survived another day.

Soon enough your body acclimated to the cool, running water and you submerged yourself into the deepest part to let the steady flow wash away the layers of grime, dirt, and sweat that you were likely covered in.

There was a time in your life you probably would have felt rather horrified that three very attractive men had seen you in such a state - but it seemed that there was no room for vanity or ego in an apocalypse.

Once you were cold enough that you were sure you had squiggle lines surrounding your being like an old cartoon character, you used a rock to scrub at your clothes, feeling (though cold) quite peaceful as you listened to the trickling water and various birds singing around you.

You laid your soaked clothes on a boulder in the sun to dry and pulled on a second set of clothes - or rather, your only other set of clothes. You wondered for a moment if you should have more - how many sets of clothes should one have in an apocalypse? You couldn’t bear the thought of having to carry around a third change of clothes, so came to the conclusion that you were fine with just the two.

You were interrupted in your musings when you heard your name being shouted.

“James?” You called back, hastily finishing tying your shoes before grabbing your gun.

But it was Sirius you saw first, sprinting through the bushes and staring at you with a mixture of dread and outrage.

“Is everything okay?” You asked him as he stalked towards you.

“Where the fuck were you?!” He barked instead of answering, looking like he was just itching to grab you roughly by your shoulders.

“I- what? I was here? What happened? Is everything okay?” You continued, not moving your eyes from the fuming man in front of you as you heard James and Remus step through the bushes Sirius had just come bursting through.

“No, everything is not okay; the fuck were you thinking just taking off and not saying anything!?” He berated you.

“Pads.” Remus warned carefully; slightly breathless from chasing the long-haired man over to you.

“You’re a fucking piece of work.” Sirius spat with finality before turning and shouldering his way past Remus and James, disappearing through the bushes on his way towards the barn.

“Was the trip not successful?” You asked quietly once you could no longer hear Sirius storming away.

“No… it was.” James offered cautiously.

“He was just… worried about you, dove.” Remus placated.

You shot him an unimpressed glare. “He was worried about me, not about me.” You muttered back, shoving your gun back into your bag and running your fingers through your wet hair that was leaving damp patches on your shirt. “If you guys don’t want me here, just say so, but if you’re going to keep me around you’re going to have to start trusting me.”

“We do trust you.” James argued, causing you to scoff derisively as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Not enough to join anyone on excursions! And not enough to take a night-watch shift alone; but sure, add taking a fucking bath to the list of things you definitely trust me to do.”

You didn’t wait for a response before you were stalking back to the barn, leaving your clothes behind to dry for the rest of the afternoon.

You were just about to push through the slightly open door (none too gently, either, mind you) when you heard Sirius’ voice.

“There’s no one else; I’m alone.”

Ice cold dread seeped into your bones as you held your breath in wait for a response.

“Are ya now?” A cocky voice taunted. “This seems like quite the setup for one bloke.”

You crept along the edge of the barn until you found a hole you could peek through.

Sirius was kneeling with his hands up in surrender whilst three men stood before him - one man loomed over him and the other two formed a blockade between him and the barn door as well as the stairs to the loft.

“What can I say?” Sirius countered. “I’m quite the bloke.”

The man currently interrogating Sirius was apparently not interested in his haughty quips and slammed the butt of his rifle into Sirius’ jaw, causing him to fall over.

You quickly looked over your shoulder, ears straining to see if you could hear Remus or James following you back, and you prayed to a God that you weren’t even sure you believed in anymore that they had decided to stay at the creek to give the two of you a chance to cool down.

You crept back along the side of the building slowly before pulling yourself up the ladder to the hay hood that Remus had put up as an emergency exit.

You could kiss that brilliant, brilliant man right on the mouth for it now.

You crouched low and snuck over to look beyond the edge of the loft; the man with the rifle was the only one with a firearm from what you could see, the other two men holding only a crowbar and machete.

You silently opened your rucksack, pulled your gun out and put a knife between your teeth as you edged closer to the beams so you were effectively standing directly atop of the man currently looming over top of Sirius.

“I’m not gonna ask you again, where the fuck are the others?” He spat at him.

“We heard the lot of you arguing - we could just finish you off and go looking for them, if that’s what you prefer.” One of the cronies added tauntingly.

“You’d be looking for an awful long time.” Sirius grunted as he spat blood out from his mouth. “Seeing as I’m alone.”

“Stop fucking lying.” The interrogator barked as he landed a kick to Sirius’ ribs. “Pretentious or not, one bloke doesn’t need four sleeping bags.”

“How do you know I, hmph, didn’t find it like this?” Sirius choked out as he rolled onto his back where he spotted you in the rafters.

You brought your finger to your lips, and Sirius let his head roll back towards the guy so as to not alert him to your presence.

You watched as one of the guys - the one with the machete - started poking around the makeshift kitchen area, and the other moved towards the door to keep watch.

Taking the split attention of the group to your advantage, you waited for Sirius to look back up at you before you jumped from the rafters.

Sirius rolled out of the way just before you landed on the interrogator, the two of you crashing to the ground - though you were the only one prepared for the impact - causing the rifle to slip out of his grasp which you kicked towards Sirius.

You slipped the knife from between your teeth and held it against the interrogators throat and pointed your gun at the machete wielding man, firing a shot which hit him in the right shoulder.

The man with the crowbar who had been stationed near the door made for you when Sirius shot the rifle, the bullet grazing the man's thigh and bringing him to his knees.

Your ears rang when an elbow met your temple right before a fist connected with your mouth as the interrogator forced you off of him.

“Is this why you were lying?” The man spat as he stood above you. “Trying to keep this thing all to yourse-”

Sirius shot the rifle again, silencing the interrogator for good as he fell to the ground with a thud.

Apparently, the machete wielding man didn’t deign to wait around and see how things played out after you’d shot him in the shoulder and had fucked back off from whence he came, so you and Sirius pointed your firearms at the last man still standing (or… you know, breathing at least) who seemed to have the sense to raise his hands in surrender.

Remus and James appeared at the barn door, then - both winded from clearly having run at the sound of shots being fired - to find the two of you holding the remaining captor captive.

“Nice of you to come by, boys.” Sirius joked as he lowered the rifle with a pained groan now that Remus and James each had a weapon pointed at the attempted usurper.

“What the fuck just happened?” Remus barked as he took in the body on the ground and the state of each of you at the same time James murmured “we thought you were firing at each other”.

“Oh, take a wild guess.” Sirius muttered bitterly, hissing in pain as he lowered himself into a chair.

“How many were you?” Remus barked at the man, sounding so unlike himself that it actually made you flinch.

“Fo-four, four of us and a 12 year-old. Us…three and then a woman and the child stayed back.” He responded quickly.

“From around here?” James continued.

“No…passing through.”

Remus looked up from him to share a look with Sirius; a well practiced silent conversation passing between the two of them.

“Keep fucking moving then.” Remus gruffed as he grabbed the bloke by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the door.

Your - for all intents and purposes - home fell eerily silent then, save the sound of your attempted assailant’s leg dragging along the gravel road as he stumbled away from the barn.

“You alright?” Remus asked finally as he let out a breath.

“Fine, moons. Never better.” Sirius muttered.

You were too busy watching the blood pooling around the interrogators body to realise your companions were waiting for your response.

You looked up at the lingering silence to see all of their eyes on you.

“M’fine.” You offered.

James hummed in acknowledgement, though you could sense disbelief in his tone. “Rem and I will get rid of him, okay? Please try not to get into any more altercations whilst we’re gone?” He tried to joke, but there was a lingering anxiety in his voice as he and Remus began wrapping the body up in a blue tarp.

“Do not go to sleep until we’re back; either of you.” Remus added before muttering something under his breath about concussions and how someone not concussed ought to be on watch in case they come back, except “they” was replaced with “those” and then some Welsh word that you were sure was simply very unflattering.

Once they had left, you and Sirius sat in silence as you both grappled with what had just happened, and alternatively, what had just almost happened.

You weren’t sure what you might have looked like - though the metallic taste of your teeth let you know that you at the very least had a busted lip - but Sirius’ jaw where the rifle had hit him was already turning a purple colour, his chin was scraped and bleeding from hitting the concrete flooring, and he had a protective hand placed over the ribs that were kicked.

You wordlessly placed a bowl of water in front of Sirius before moving to your seat with your own bowl to clean the blood from your persons.

You could feel his eyes trained on you as you wiped away blood that was staining your face; likely equal parts your own and someone else's.

“Don’t go down to the river alone… please.” You heard him say quietly suddenly, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let your two arms fall from their tasks.

“Are you still on this? Haven’t I proven my trustworthiness yet? Honestly, I-”

“It’s not safe.” Sirius interrupted; a strange look crossing his face as his brows furrowed at you. “It’s not safe.” He repeated, quieter this time.

He stood abruptly then; abandoning his bowl of water and grabbing a pack of cigarettes before disappearing around the side of the barn for a smoke.

Oh.

So apparently he had been worried about you, not about you.

And though you really wanted to feel embarrassed that they had picked anything like that out for you, you also couldn’t help but notice that a new jumper, trousers, and some knickers had been folded and placed on your sleeping bag for you.

701 notes · View notes

hairyjocktf · 3 months ago

Note

As a small twenty year old in college, I just wish I could get the peace and quiet of the outdoors. Can you make me a big hairy lumberjack?

You woke up this morning to the blaring of your alarm. Monday always felt way too early. After grabbing your phone and silencing it you rolled out of bed with a resounding thud. You were so tired of the hustle and bustle of school and work and life in general, it was just never ending. With a huff you dragged yourself into the bathroom, passing your reflection in the mirror. You stopped for a second, gazing over your thin body, wishing it could be something more. There was no time to dwell on those thoughts though, and you turned on the water and hopped into the shower. Hot water cascading over you, you reached for the new body wash you’d just bought. ‘Man Wash: Cedar & Pine Scent’ it said, something the other day had compelled you to try that over the normal wash you usually got. You lathered up, the scent of trees filling the shower. There was something relaxing about that somehow, and you stood there lost in it for a moment before rinsing. It was a 3-in-1 with face wash, so you figured you might as well use it there too. That gave you a hefty dose of that cedar scent directly by your nose.

You realized it’d already been ten minutes and hastily switched off the water, stepping out of the steamy cocoon before grabbing your towel to dry. The mirror in front of you was entirely fogged up as you slipped the towel around and around, but as it cleared something caught your eye. Holding the towel loosely around your waist you stepped closer to the glass, staring at your reflection as it became more visible. It looked like there was something dark on your face. You bent over the counter to get a closer look, staring at what looked like dirt smeared across your upper lip. You wiped the condensation off the mirror and leaned in even closer. It was hair, soft but dark hairs had suddenly sprouted across your upper lip and it looked like on your chin too. You tilted your head around to make sure but it really did seem like they’d just sprouted suddenly. Then your jaw dropped.

As you stared at your reflection you could see thick brown hairs popping out along your jaw, spreading from your chin outwards. The hairs pushed out quickly, climbing up your cheeks engulfing the peach fuzz that was there before. Your wispy mustache thickened up as thicker, darker hairs sprouted between older soft ones, spreading and connecting with the rest of your burgeoning beard. Hairs poured out of your face, itching as follicles were pushed into overdrive cranking out a thick rug across your cheeks. The hairs grew thicker and wirier, tangling together into a solid mass pushing out. It quickly passed an inch long, then two, then three. Your face had vanished entirely behind a curtain of masculinity, and you could feel the itch of new hairs popping out on your neck as it worked down. In shock, you raised your hands and thrust your fingers deep into the beard, scratching at the hairy mass that had appeared within seconds.

You didn’t have time to admire this feat, as moments later you suddenly bowled over, feeling like you’d been kicked in the stomach. You collapsed onto your ass on the bathroom tile, looking down at yourself. Your belly began to grow, pushing out. Your eyes went wide as it hardened with muscle, it wasn’t abs but it showed real strength. You felt the gut, your fingers prodding the layer of thick hard muscle underneath a slight bit of fat. The intense soreness that underlaid your new musclegut spread up, and you watched as your chest pressed out into thick pecs. The mounds pushed and tightened into refined muscle, before softening slightly into huge pillows adorning your chest. Your traps sprang next, putting on size, followed by your shoulders as they puffed into serious boulders. You could feel muscles bulking up all over, the soreness gradually replaced by ecstasy as your body exploded with mass. Your back widened, your arms grew into full-on gun shows, hands thickening to match, your quads and calves doubled in size, even your ass plumped up. It felt like your back was cracking on repeat as it stretched upward, your legs pushing out equally to add another three inches to your height. Not to be outdone, your feet popped as they grew another few sizes.

You laid there, back against the wall, panting from the intense growth. Though it happened in front of your eyes you could scarcely believe it as you squeezed your huge muscle tits in your hands. Sweat was pouring down your huge frame, muscles fatigued severely from inflating so much. That was when the itch returned. Starting in the center of your chest, you looked down to see a thick dark hair push through the skin. You reached up to grab it, feeling the coarse strand between your fingers as you feel more pushing up against the rest of your hand. What started as a few hairs quickly grew into a patch, spreading out as more hairs cropped up over your luscious pecs. A wave of stubble pressed out over the expanse of muscle, shoots of dark hairs elongating into thick strands that gained some curl as they grew. Within seconds your chest was buried in a continuously growing rug, new curls and swirls developing as more hairs grew in. The itch crept outward from your chest, bringing with it a tidal wave of growth. Your collarbone vanished beneath the carpet as wiry strands connected up to your beard. Your shoulders itched from the fur coating taking root, your traps similarly felt the growth. Your bulging biceps and triceps got their own dusting, and your thick forearms became the site of the most luxurious forest of hair, thick strands popping up across the backs of your hands and knuckles.

The feeling of fur erupting across your body was electric, the uncomfortable aspects of itching drowned out by surges of pleasure. Your pits were next to feel it, an increase in sweat leading the way for the blossoming of what were surely to be the most masculine pits around. The bare skin tingled as thick, wiry hairs burst forth, quickly growing into a dense tuft to catch all the sweat dripping down. The hairs tangled together, spreading out over a wider and wider tract, escaping your pits entirely to connect to your chest rug and arm hair. New hairs pushed out between the older ones, until even scratching at the area couldn’t yield the skin below. Your gut itched as the carpet on your chest swiftly moved down over it, burying it beneath layers and layers of fur.

Your groin itched as your sparse bush exploded in size, hair pushing out and spreading like wildfire. The hairs surged up to connect with the rug on your torso and down over your thighs. Your balls ached as they swelled before becoming hidden behind a dense carpet. Your pubes grew denser as more and more hair squeezed out, climbing up the shaft of your growing cock. You could see the rug advancing down your legs, coating your thick thighs and calves in hair, before your feet pushed out a generous covering of hair, with tufts on the toes. Your ass itched as both cheeks darkened slightly as a fur coat enveloped them before racing up your back, the wide expanse itching as hairs conquered the open skin.

Your mind suddenly felt foggy as the stress of school faded, replaced by the desire to get out into nature. What were you doing cramped in this tiny apartment? You got up off the floor and looked again in the mirror, a scrawny student no longer in the reflection. Instead was a tall burly man, bursting with muscle and absolutely coated with hair. It felt right. You walked into your closet to find it now full of flannels and jeans, your work clothes. You pulled on the dirty jeans and threw on the flannel, only buttoning it about halfway. Your work boots were waiting by the door, and you slid them onto your newly grown feet. You grabbed your keys and headed out the door, not eager to be late to work again. You were a lumberjack, after all, the world depended on the wood you provided. It felt good, and you grinned as you hopped into your truck and sped off past your old campus, heading into the forest.

#male tf #hairy tf #hairy #hair growth #hairy chest #hairy pits #hairy torso #beard #bear tf #lumberjack tf #my writing

352 notes · View notes

bumblebeesfromvenus · 8 months ago

Text

The Kiss of a Siren 🫧

Pirate!Leon S Kennedy x Siren!reader

A/N: it's done!!! I actually love how this turned out! This was a really fun pairing to write and I can totally see myself writing more Pirate!Leon in the future :)

~Fi 🐝

《Content》: a little bit of gore, but not descriptive. Death (a girl's gotta eat)Luis cameo! MIKE CAMEO! Leon runs straight into danger (Aka being Leon)

《Word count》: 6.1k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The ocean laid almost still, only soft and gentle waves blew over the water, causing it to ripple and lap at the wooden hull of his mighty ship. His gaze turned towards the horizon, watching as the moon reflected and glitter on the surface.

There was a soft slosh from his nearly empty bottle of rum as he took another swig, the burning as it went down starting a fire in his veins and being the only thing shielding him from the cold and salty breeze.

It was dark, all lights extinguished. His crew and his first mate were slumbering peacefully beneath deck, all rocked to sleep by the sea.

A feeling of melancholy washed over him as a sigh rolled off his lips. He knew his heart belonged to the sea, but he couldn't help the pressing loneliness in his chest on nights like these, wishing he had a fair lady to love.

Maybe then he'd consider coming home now and then.

He loved the ocean dearly, but she couldn't dry his tears and fill his arms as a woman of his own could.

He shook off the thought, taking a breath and focusing on the peaceful sway of his ship, looking forward to another day of wearing his Tricorn. Stolen, of course, although earned. Perhaps not by the accords of the Captain he'd snagged it from, but by his loyal crew.

Although Leon was a pirate, he wasn't heartless. He'd been through every terrible storm and ruthless attack with these men, and they respected him as their Captain.

There was no mutiny, no plans of overthrowing him, simply because he hadn't given them a reason to.

He was often called the Robin Hood of the seven seas; taking from the rich and cocky and giving it to the less fortunate. Of course he still plundered purely for the fun of it, but only other pirates.

They knew to avoid him, especially if they were the rowdy kind that took from the poor.

Because, above all, he wasn't just the greatest pirate Captain since Anne Bonny but a harbinger of justice that could both lend a gentle hand to those in need and strike fear into the hearts of anyone who had crossed him or his morals.

He was pulled out of his self pity by a distressed sound that cut through the silence of the night like a freshly sharpened cutlass. His brows pulled together as his eyes searched for the source of this noise.

Leon was on high alert, he wouldn't be surprised if rival pirates were using distress calls as bait for an ambush. Setting down the empty bottle of dark rum, he went over to the other side of his ship, facing the sandy shore.

And, as if the gods wanted him to see, he spotted a woman desperately clinging onto a large rock in the water. She was perfectly illuminated by the moonlight, even as she sobbed and struggled, she looked ethereal.

Leon sprung into action and climbed down the rope ladder at the side of his ship into a row boat.

What he hadn't noticed in his hurry, however, was the faint glow of a lantern being lit and a dark figure watching him carefully from atop his ship.

"Hold on, I'm coming for you!" He said loudly, rowing with his entire might as he saw the woman slipping.

"I-.. I can't hold on much longer, please help me!" She wept, seemingly trying to dig her nails into the algae covered boulder as best she could. Seeing her in such distress made his heart ache.

He didn't want to imagine what the outcome would be if he hadn't spotted her. With heaving breaths and a pull in the muscles of his arms, he rowed closer and closer, seeing her more clearly now.

She was quite beautiful, with her wet hair clinging to her skin and her tears glittering on her cheeks.

His boat bumped into the rock as he jumped up and held out his hand for her to grasp onto.

"Here. Just take my hand, I'll help you." Leon heaved, trying to steady the wooden vessel.

You reached for him, tightly clinging to his arm as he reeled you in like a fisherman would his catch of the day.

How ironic, you thought, having to stop yourself from smirking.

Your tail swished in the water, concealed by its darkness, as you made an effort to keep up your act.

"Thank you. Gods, you saved my life. I just wanted to bathe but the current ripped me away and I couldn't-" You babbled through sobs and wails.

"Calm down, alright? I've got you. You're safe." He spoke softly, much softer than you'd anticipated.

His huge yet gentle hands were steadied on your upper arms as you tightly gripped the edge of the boat.

"I'll help you into the boat." He breathed, now very aware of your bare skin. Your eyes widened slightly and your grip tightened.

"I- no, no, I... I'm so exhausted... I just need a break.." you tried to assure him with a half hearted smile.

"Oh, yes, of course." He chuckled awkwardly, sitting back down but still keeping a hand on you, just in case.

Your eyes glid over his form. His broad shoulders and bulging arms with a strong chest. Not to mention the mix of soft and sharp features and those beautiful blue eyes.

They reminded you of home. The deep, silent and peaceful parts of the ocean.

Lucky you; your dinner looked extra delicious today. Your mouth watered at the mere thought of sinking your teeth into his flesh and taking a bite.

It was quiet except for the waves crashing onto the rocks and the small ripples caused by you sloshing agaisnt the wood of his boat. You gazed upon eachother, a scene bathed in the fairest of moonlights, as your shared curiosity took over.

His hand slowly migrated to gentle hold your face as his thumb softly, but not without a hesitant twitch in his fingertips, wiped away at your tears.

Tears that shimmered like diamonds and the most notorious treasures of the seas. Leon was mesmerized, almost captivated, by your presence.

Something was pulling him in, something so deceiving, that he let himself slowly slip into your spell.

"A girl like you shouldn't be out alone past dusk." Leon broke the tense silence with quiet words as he brushed some of the hair clinging to your forehead out of your face. Your lips turned up into a soft smile, and Leon could feel his heart pound at your beauty.

"A girl like me?" You asked playfully, trailing you hand from the wooden edge to gently grasp at his arm. He thought for a moment.

"A girl so... beautiful. So sweet. So soft." His words were merely above a whisper and you could see his chest falling and rising just a little faster than before.

His pupils almost swallowed up the entirety of his pretty blues, making you mourn the mirroring image of your home.

"You flatter me." You replied with a soft chuckle, your other hand rising up to plant itself against his chest. He instinctively leaned forwards, his warm breath tickling your face.

There was a hint of sadness in your chest and it was getting harder to play the part. It seemed so easy to fall for those sandy locks and ocean eyes.

The line was awfully thin and you'd be damned if you crossed it.

"Tell me, what's your name?" You asked innocently, fiddling with the strings of his shirt.

"Leon." He swallowed thickly, his other hand itching to dip beneath the surface of the water, pull you out and whisk you away as his treasure, only for him to know the beauty that you hid beneath that darkness.

"Leon..." You tested his name on your tongue with a small smile and gazed up at him with such a bright sparkle in your eyes. Leon thought he was about to choke on air.

You gently, but with a firm hand, pulled him closer to you, your lips just a hairs breadth apart.

"What is it you desire, Leon?" You purred, your eyes darkening. Leon was hunched over, halfway to toppling into the water.

Right where you wanted him. His lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed, his pupils dilated so much you could spot yourself in them.

"You." He breathed out, leaning in far enough to brush your lips together.

You cracked a smile and brought your lips to his ear.

"How unfortunate." You whispered.

Those words made him snap back into reality, the hazy fog over his mind lifted enough to catch the sharp teeth as you smiled and the scattered, shimmering scales he'd missed before.

But it was no use.

The second he had realized, he was pulled under, ripped from his steady seat in the boat and plunged into dreadful darkness.

The air was knocked from his lungs and he struggled against your surprisingly strong hold on him as you dragged him deeper. Leon could see the moonlight fading, reaching out for it.

You, on the other hand, were euphoric. Ravenous for your meal.

Usually, you'd wait. Drown your prey and watch the life drain from their eyes, making them dull. But there was something about him that made you so impatient. So eager to get a taste.

Without another thought you sunk your teeth into his strong shoulder and reveled in the sweet taste of his flesh.

Leon screamed out in agony, but it was dulled and muffled by the water. Bubbles rose up as he desperately tried to get you off of him. His strength was exhausted, and the red tinting the water blurred his vision.

You hummed against his skin at the delightful taste of him. To your dismay, your feast was cut short by a loud noise, making you detach from Leon and flinch away.

Before you could get far, there was a searing pain in your tail, the salty waters now stained with your blood instead of his. A silvery harpoon was embedded in your tail, shooting hot spikes of agony up your spine.

You swam as fast as you could with the weapon in your fin, bullets whizzing past you as your form merged into the deep blue, vanishing before his eyes.

Leon pushed up to the surface with his uninjured arm before a hand plunged into the water and grasped him tightly before pulling him up to the surface.

He gasped for air and heaved in deep breaths as someone wrangled him into the boat.

The shirt on his left shoulder was ripped and stained with deep crimson as the rest of the wet fabric clung to his sculpted body. There were heavy pats on his back as he coughed up water, wincing at the excruciating pain in his shoulder.

"¡Joder! Are you alright, Capitán?" The frantic voice of his ever so loyal first mate, Luis Serra, rang in his ears, making him slack in relief.

"¡Mierda!. That beast got you good, huh?" He tried to lift the mood with a chuckle but Leon couldn't respond, his head spinning as he slowly took in his surroundings again.

Luis had a lit lantern with him, which got knocked over in his attempt to save Leon, his blunderbuss laid in the boat, smoke pluming from the barrel. A couple of harpoons were laid out as well, ones they'd usually use for fishing.

"Thank... Thank you.." Leon forced through heavy breaths as he held his bleeding shoulder.

"Always, Captain. Let's get you fixed up, eh, Sancho Panza?" Luis grinned helping Leon up onto the ship, who cracked a tired smirk at the friendly banter.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Leon was lost in thought as he sat on the edge of his sofa, a singular lantern illuminating his day cabin. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he replayed the events in his mind.

With a heavy sigh he slumped back against the soft cushion, wincing when he adjusted his arm. There were so any feelings weighing down on him. Pure, hot fury. The urge to hunt you down, gut you and hang you out to dry.

He knew of your kind, of course he knew, the maneating maidens with the voice of a nightingale. Half fish, half woman. Sirens caused the worst shipwrecks, he'd heard the stories from the very few that were lucky enough to escape their clawed grasp.

There was shame. Ashamed that someone like him was so easily fooled by a pair of pretty eyes and a smile so sweet he could feel his teeth ache.

Was he just desperate and pathetic? Longing so deeply for a maiden of his own that he'd jumped at the first opportunity? Wasn't it honorable that he'd sprung into action to save a damsel in distress? He didn't know. He lived up to his reputation, that's for sure, but Leon couldn't bring himself to take the credit. He never could.

And then there was this bubbling curiosity. The urge to know more, to see you again. He didn't understand. You'd almost taken his life, yet there was not an ounce of fear for you in him. He was intrigued, he needed to see you again.

Whether it was to squeeze answers out of you or to get a smidge of that connection back.

He damn near broke his head in two that night after he'd retreated to bed, wondering if some of it was real. It felt real to him.

The way you looked at him, spoke to him, touched him. It all seemed so real and genuine. Were creatures like you even able to feel things of that sort? He didn't know.

What he did know was not only had you had his flesh between your sharp teeth, but his heart, too, it seemed.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The sun sparkled on the surface of the ocean as the Lone Rookie treaded along her path, splitting the waves.

Captain Kennedy and his crew were leisurely sailing across the calm sea, letting the tide guide them. He stood atop the quaterdeck, giving directions to the pirate that manned the wheel, knowing this part of the wide ocean like the back of his hand.

His first mate was keeping watch over the remaining crew, making sure their daily tasks were done as they should be.

Some were scrubbing the deck, others were covered in soot from keeping the cannons in good condition while the rest was busy hoisting the sails.

His coat looked pristine and elegant with the golden appliques sewn onto it. His Tricorn sat proudly atop his sandy locks adorned by a large, fluffy feather. His leather boots shone in the sun, same as his belt, that held his cutlass and blunderbuss.

His shoulder was still healing, the arm hanging close to his body instead of in the sleeve of the coat to minimize the strain.

It had been weeks since he almost met his end at your hands. Leon's mind had been occupied by thoughts of you since, wondering if he'd ever see you again.

There was shouting coming from the crow's nest, drawing his attention away from thoughts of you. They were coming up to a small formation of sharp rocks emerging from the water, but the lookout claimed to have seen something shimmering, bringing hope for it to be a lost treasure.

The Lone Rookie was carefully maneuvered closer to the boulders, being mindful so she wouldn't shatter to pieces against the rocks. But before anyone had the chance to inspect this mystery further, all heads turned in search of a soft melody that seemed to he carried by the wind.

Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversion with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you'll never return again

Whispers and questions echoed across the deck as they searched for the source of this enchanting tune. The crew slowly moved in tandem, migrating towards the edge of the ship.

Leon's brows furrowed as he took out his spyglass and tried to spot something between the rocks against the blinding sun.

A shiver ran down his spine when he laid his eyes on none other than you, in all your beautiful, sparkling glory. Your tail shimmered in all colors, and your skin was glistening from the water.

You were going to be the demise of his ship if he didn't act now. With a quick movement his spyglass was attached to his belt once again.

"Everyone below deck. Now!" He yelled, seemingly breaking his men from their trance. They scattered like rats, obeying their Captain.

"Capitán-" Luis began but was swiftly cut off.

"You too. Now."

"Leon-"

"Go."

With hesitancy Luis, too, made his way below deck. Though he did stay close, just in case. How his Captain thought he was invincible made him want to shake his head.

Leon kept his eyes on you, a hand resting on his blunderbuss. He spotted one of his men, a gunner named Mike, out of the corner of his eye.

"Mike, get below deck. Now!" He yelled, not getting a reaction.

The gunner's arms hung slack by his side as he slowly stepped further towards that lovely melody, drawing him in.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

The words glid easily off your tongue as you eyed your next meal before your gaze flitted to Leon for a moment. He locked eyes with you and you could faintly see him scowl which made the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a mischievous smile.

Mike had now reached the edge and was leaning over, his pupils dilated as his eyes were trained on you and your beauty.

"Mike!" Leon rushed towards him, gripping his shoulders and trying to pry him away from what would be his certain death.

As if suddenly possessed by inhuman strength he shook his Captain off of him with ease and climbed down the rope ladder at the side of the ship.

"Goddammit." Leon cursed under his breath.

"Snap out of it! Don't listen to to her!" He tried to reason with his best gunner, but there was only so much he could do from atop the ship.

Leon watched as Mike eagerly descended into the water and swam your way.

You held out your hand in a tantalizing manner, watching as he reached you and desperately clawed his way up the rock.

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly Sailor, until he sails home

Mike panted with a smile has he gazed upon you.

"The gods have heard me." He spoke brightly, steadying himself with one hand in the slippery rock and the other on your hip.

The gesture made you want to physically recoil. They usually never lived along enough to lay a hand on you. Still, you put on your best face and cupped his cheek, pulling him closer.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

With the last, softly sung note you chuckled, a sound that could rival your singing. Mike drew closer, his breath on your face.

Your stomach twisted and turned when you remembered who else's warm breath you could feel on your face just a few moons ago. A much more pleasant and welcome sensation than from your next meal.

"You're all I've ever wanted." Mike spoke quietly, making you giggle and lean in to whisper in his ear.

"What a shame."

Your teeth dug into the side of his neck, puncturing his jugular as he let out a blood curdling scream and desperately clutched his neck.

In a calculated move, you slid down the rock with a tight grip on your prey and pulled him under, his blood staining your skin.

Leon's blood boiled as he watched one of his best men die in front of him. He wanted to gut you and parade around your corpse for everyone to see, but there was a sick and twisted jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

You had charmed and enchanted Mike just as you had him, but there was a part deep inside his heart that hoped he was special. You didn't put up a damsel on distress act for Mike, but you did for him. Surely all that effort must've meant something? He felt nauseous at his thoughts and returned his attention back to you.

You were smiling at him, your sharp teeth stained with blood before you dove under and splashed your fin, a noticeable scar from the harpoon sitting on the glittering skin.

He slammed his fists down on the wooden railing, a few splinters flying overboard. Luis emegered from below deck and hurried toward him.

"What happened?" He asked hurriedly. Leon stayed silent for a moment, sighing deeply, his eyes trained on the pool of red around the rocks.

"She got Mike." He spoke coldly, faintly hearing the gasps and sounds of sorrow from his crew.

His jaw clenched as he swiftly turned on his heel and waltzed towards his cabin, slamming the door shut behind him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The death laid heavy on him as he tried to find some solace at the bottom of yet another bottle of rum. Though not alone in his state of mourning,

Luis sat next to him, puffing a cigar. Not as his first mate, but as his friend.

"I have to find her." Leon spoke sternly, deep in his thoughts.

His hands were intertwined and tucked under his chin, most of his weight resting on his elbows.

"Won't be too hard. She keeps showing up where you are. Maybe she likes you." Luis grinned, tapping his cigar over the glass ashtray.

Leon hated how that speculation made his heart jump in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this, especially after you'd cruelly killed one of his best men. But he just couldn't help the giddy feeling in his stomach. He didn't physically react apart from a sharp glare that made Luis put his hands up in mock surrender, and the faintest of blushes dusted on his cheeks.

"You know what they say about the kiss of a Siren, eh?" Luis began with a mischievous smirk, taking a drag from the roll of tobacco. Leon leaned back into his chair with a tight-lipped sigh.

"What, that you'll 'control the mighty seas and command the storms'? All bullshit if you ask me." He muttered, a slight frown on his face.

"Whatever you say, Capitán." Luis blew a new plume of smoke with a faint smirk playing on his lips.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You carefully poked your head out of the water and watched the Lone Rookie, specifically the handsome Pirate Captain that you'd gotten a taste of.

You've been mesmerized by him ever since you met him that night. Those kind eyes, that gentle touch... could he really be a pirate? He was nothing like the dirty brutes that you had the displeasure of meeting.

Your curiosity is what urged you to follow his ship and observe him almost every day since you'd eaten one of his crew. You did feel a little bad about it afterward, guilt eating away at you as you twirled a button from his shirt between your fingers.

What we're you even going to do with it? Give it Leon as a peace offering? Now, that seemed unnecessarily cruel.

In your defense, you had to eat something. It wasn't your fault that you were cursed to be a Maneater.

Some were whiny and outright annoying while others disgusted you to the point where you'd just leave them drifting in the sea and went off to find another, their behavior ruining your appetite.

Gods, what were you thinking!? He probably hated you know. A fair outcome, you supposed. You wouldn't be very happy if someone ate one of your friends.

You dove back under, pondering your options. You knew you shouldn't, but something about him was so intriguing that it was impossible for you to stay away.

How ironic that the Siren seemed to be caught in a spell.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The panic that arose in your chest as you struggle against the rough rope you'd managed to get tangled in was like nothing you'd felt before.

You were always so careful, kept your distance so no sailor would get their hands on you and do Gods know what.

You clawed and gnawed at the net, hoping your sharp teeth could cut you free. You were getting closer and closer to the surface, your eyes not having enough time to adjust as you were ripped from the deep.

Making yourself as small as possible, you waited in dreadful anticipation, saying goodbye to the ocean.

"This' a big one, Cap'n!" One of his men cackled, grunting as he continued to pull in the net.

Leon quirked a brow and stepped down from the quaterdeck, his belt rustling and his boots clacking against the wood as he walked. He waited patiently as his men reeled in their net, speculating about a big fish that would last them for weeks.

They plopped you down onto the deck unceremoniously, your tail hitting the floor with a thud as you pressed your back agaisn the railing, hoping to just disappear.

You hadn't even noticed Leon yet, to caught up in your fear to see how his eyes almost popped out of his head as his gaze landed on you.

"You." He breathed out, an unidentifiable mix of emotions in his tone.

Your head shot up, recognizing his voice, before it quickly fell again in shame, avoiding all eye contact with the handsome Captain. There were murmurs and whispers form the crew, some demanding to get revenge for their dearest friend and others that were interested in how much you'd go for on the fish market.

"What do we do with her, Capitán?" Luis asked from behind him, an uncharacteristically unsure tone to his usually so confident demeanor.

Leon's mind was void of all rational thoughts as he kept taking you in. How you cowered and kept your head down, seemingly afraid to even move a single muscle.

You were so confident in the water, seducing and luring men to their demise, but as soon as you hot caught on dry land all that cockiness evaporated and you looked more like a scared girl than a flesh-eating monster of the seas. He glanced around quickly before answering his first mate.

"Put her in that barrel." Leon gestures towards it haphazardly, continuing to bore holes into you with his look.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

That's how you ended up here. Cramped in a wooden barrel, sailors shooting you weird looks as you tried your best to sink as deep as you could, hoping to run from their judgmental gazes.

You'd find Leon staring at you from afar, striking under his gaze.

The protection of the sea was gone now. You were out of your element, and he was in his. You tried your best to behave, hoping they'd just get bored of you eventually.

Your first attempt at escaping and went as followed;

You nervously glanced around the deck, hoping you'd catch a moment where no eyes were on you. Leon seemed occupied looking at various maps with his first mate, while the crew was busy fulfilling their duties. You took your chance and took a breath to start singing, hoping you'd get them to dump you overboard so you could swim for it.

Before even a single not left your throat, a large hand was slapped over your mouth, muffling any sounds you would've made. Leon stood above you, his stature completely blocking off the sun.

"Don't even think about it. One of my men was enough." He said lowly, fueling the fire of guilt in your heart. You tried your best to ignore how his touch sent a prickly feeling down your spine.

You'd crossed the line miles ago, and you were swimming straight for the Bermuda triangle.

The sparkling moonlight on the ripple of the sea brought you no solace as you stared at the deep blue with longing, wishing you were back in your home.

You'd been on the Lone Rookie for about a week. Leon insisted on not letting you starve, to the dismay of some of his men, so they fed a part of their daily catches to you.

It wasn't human flesh, but enough to keep you going. Although you were around people all day, you hadn't felt more lonely. The disgusted expressions and whispered insults started to wear on you.

You were here only because you couldn't resist a couple of blue eyes and sandy hair that reminded you of the bottom of the ocean.

The door of the Captain's cabin opened and Leon stepped out with a lantern in hand, walking towards you.

Your heart was starting to beat faster but you still wouldn't meet his eyes. He placed the light on the railing next to you and leaned against it, staying quiet. You could tell he wanted to look at you, maybe even talk to you, but he held himself back.

The button in your hand seemed to almost burn your skin as you grasped it tighter. This was your chance at mercy and freedom.

"I'm... I'm sorry about your friend." You muttered quietly, the water in the barrel splashing gently as you turned your body to face Leon.

He was slightly stunned at your apology, maybe that you spoke at all, yet he didn't reply.

You bit your tongue, not knowing whether saying any more would be a good idea. You wordlessly lifted your hand out of the water and presented the button to him.

A soft crease formed between his brows as he eyes the button.

".. What's this?" He asked quietly.

You swallowed and raised your hand higher.

"From your friend." Your voice was merely above a whisper.

Hid jaw slacked slightly before he let his head fall forwards and let out a soft huff.

"Thank you." He replied softly as he took the button and squeezed it tightly, holding his hand to his chest.

There was a beat of silence before all your self-control left you, and you couldn't stop the words that spilled out of your mouth.

"I just couldn't stay away from you. That's what got me into this whole mess." You sighed, resting your head against the rim of the barrel.

Leon's head snapped towards you, your words igniting fire in his heart.

"You're just so... so.. different. I didn't actually think anyone would come to save me that night. I mean, I wasn't actually in trouble, but it was nice, still. You're nice. Not like all the other pirates I've met. They're rough and rude and.. you're not. I just can't stay away."

You laid your heart out for him. His heart was about to jump out of his chest, and his cheeks were dusted in a deep pink as he processed your confession.

He was speechless, his brain trying to come up with an answer.

You, on the other hand, were tugging at your hair, anxiously waiting for a reply. He could reject you, and you'd finally be able to move on, but as long as the option of him reciprocating was there, so were you.

Leon swallowed thickly, the way the moonlight was shining down one you once again not making it easier for him to finally find his words.

"I can't stay away either..." he confessed quietly.

"I know it sounds silly considering that's your whole deal, but... It felt real to me. Even if you bit me, even if you killed my best gunner, I..." he chuckled, running a hand through his hair and looking up at the stars.

"I've never... felt like that before. Never thought love was in the cards for me. You changed that." He spoke softly, gently guiding your head to look at him.

It was the first time you'd actually met his eye for days and it felt like your heart was going to melt right out of your chest. You were just as stunned by his words as he was by yours.

"It was real." You replied eagerly, lifting yourself out of the barrel to be closer to him.

"You remind me of my home. Your eyes are like the sea when she's calm and welcoming and your hair is like the sand at the bottom of the ocean, where all sorts of treasures can be found." You rambled breathlessly, the proximity of him making the air hard to breathe

. Leon was breathing heavily just as you were before he helped support you by placing a steady hand on your lower back.

"I just... I'm sorry for biting you, but I had to get a taste." Your face felt hot and your chest was rising and falling faster than normal.

His gentle touch was setting all of your nerves on fire, spiraling them into a hot frenzy.

"What if... what if you get a taste without drawing blood?" He asked in a quiet and breathy voice, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You nodded quickly, grasping onto him wherever you could.

With your confirmation, his strong arm wrapped around your back and he lifted you out of the barrel and onto the railing, holding you tightly, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips

. The desperation and passion in the kiss made you melt against him, a satisfied hum escaping your lips. Leon smiled into the kiss, teasingly squeezing your waist, making you giggle.

You gently held his face, the image of the both of you like that from a painting. You pulled away from each other for air, chests heaving, and your lips slightly puffy.

"I want to keep you forever." He muttered, pressing his forehead to yours.

You chuckled breathlessly, playing with the hair at his nape.

"I'm sorry I can't stay. But I belong out there," you nodded your head in the direction of the sea, "and you belong here." You spoke with a soft smile, placing a peck on his lips.

He made a soft displeased noise.

"Here." you untangled an iridescent shell from your hair and placed it into his palm, closing his hand and bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"That way, I'm always with you." His expression softened.

"Thank you."

Leon stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small golden anchor charm, one he'd gotten on one of his first raids and kept as a lucky charm.

"Now, I'm always with you, too." He attached it to the lock of hair you'd taken the shell from, pushing a few strands out of your face with a smile.

"Will you promise me something?" Leon asked quietly, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone.

You hummed softly, leaning into his touch.

"Promise me you'll always sing for me."

You smiled softly and pulled him a little closer.

"I promise. I'll only sing for you." You whispered, gently bumping your nose against his, making him smile.

You pulled him for a last kiss, one he happily indulged, before loosening your grip on him.

Letting yourself fall back from the railing, you elegantly dove into the water, Leon's eyes glued to the shimmering scales of your tail.

You blew him a kiss before diving deep into your home with a heavy heart. It was a bittersweet parting, no doubt, but the trinkets you'd exchanged with your lover would ease the ache.

With a sad smile Leon watched you disappear before retreating for the night. The only thing he'd have to explain in the morning was how you'd escaped and where he got the shimmering shell that was pinned to his coat.

When he heard a soft comforting melody that night, he smiled to himself, keeping your gift close to his heart.

From then on, you were never far. Always circling around the Lone Rookie, keeping an eye on not only Leon but his crew.

The kiss of a Siren might not have given Leon the power to command the sea, it did, however, give him the benefit of a hauntingly beautiful complicit that was more than happy to feed on his enemies.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it!! (you specifically, @sweets3rial <3)

More Leon -> 💫

《tag list》: @vampkennedy @dmitriene @k-fallingstar @agrerion @leonslittlekennedy @allysunny

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my Leon tag list!!

(Sorry for any typos, it's late :,))

#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon kennedy angst

535 notes · View notes

plaguedocboi · 9 months ago

Note

Saw your scary water spots rating post and made me wonder if you’ve ever heard of Babinda Boulders in Australia.

Never been there myself but everything I’ve read about it is terrifying. That I know of there’s 3 specific spots that can and will kill you. The Chute, The Washing Machine and Devil’s Pool.

I think it’s something like 21 people have died there. You can swim at a swimming hole there but honestly the whole area should just be a no go zone because it’s BAD

Hi I want to let you know that I have made like ten scary water lists at this point and I have never. And I mean never. Heard of this one. It has never been suggested and it has never been mentioned in anything I’ve read.

This is literally an Australian version of the Strid why is it not more widely talked about? What the fuck is this shit? Why do people keep going here???? Stay the fuck away from this place for the love of god there’s even diagrams about specifically how it will kill you

Fuck this. The earth was not made for us and the water will reclaim us all.

#bathophobia #hate this hate it so much #water rating

491 notes · View notes

kometqh · 1 year ago

Text

𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader) 𝟓𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝-𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭-𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ,𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫?

Tugging at my hair, the wind brushed past me in a hurry. It came from far away, seemingly always looking for something, never being able to find it. Paired with the wind, a steady but small wave washed up against the shoreline, the thinnest part of the wave just barely scraping my feet.

I looked up at the sky. It was partly clouded, but beautiful nethertheless. The sun was just barely breaking through the horizon, casting gentle light across the beach. It mixed with the blue sky and formed a rose-pink colour across the clouds, the shore and the sea. Was it always so beautiful here?

I shook my head, casting my gaze to the side, my eyes landing on a lone boulder which sat in the water. The exterior was decorated by lavish long seaweed and a cluster of barnacles. It sat proudly in the water, the waves crashing against it every so often, sprays of water flying into the air. It was a pretty sight. Almost pretty enough to distract me from the anxiety tugging at my heart.

A sliver of water touched my feet, before being dragged back to the sea.

Today is my last year of reaping. Today is the day that decides whether I'll be free for the rest of my life, or whether I will die fighting for my life in a gruesome bloodbath.

Though in this context, freedom isn't exactly what one might think it is. Nobody is ever truly free in Panem.

Someone like me would not survive in any of the arenas we've seen so far. I can barely handle killing a fish, let alone an entire human being, a child. I can feel a shiver travel down my spine, and I shake my head, casting those thoughts aside. Nothing will happen, I think to myself, and continue to look at the splashing waves, hypnotised by the rhythmic back-and-forth movement, accompanied by occasional licks of water against the tips of my feet, which have found respite in the sand.

With a sigh, I lean back on my elbows. Squinting slightly, I observe the clouds. None have any particular shape to them, but it feels comforting to stare at them as they move. Would I get to see them in an arena? I don't think so.

Time passed by rather quickly. When you lay on a beach with no form of watch or clock, a minute can quickly become an hour. And before I knew it, I began to notice some small boats setting out into the sea, as the sun slowly climbed up higher into the sky. It must be what...7am? Maybe 8. That's usually when people wake up to go fishing, since the waters are calmer in the morning.

With a sigh, I begin to think of the day ahead. It is mandatory to attend the reaping. If one doesn't, they'll be dragged out of their homes, whipped in the town square, and then forced to watch. I sigh heavily, fingers digging into the sand beneath me, and with a light shake of my head, I reluctantly heave myself up and off the sand, heading towards the treeline.

Nobody really ventures into the wooden forest, in fear of the peacekeepers that guard the borders of District 4. Although I learned very quickly that they're further out than one might think, many citizens of District 4 have no interest in venturing out, believing that there isn't much out there to be seen in the first place.

But not me.

When I was much younger, I'd often run into the forest to go exploring. There aren't many dangerous animals in there, so nobody would worry unless I haven't returned by the evening.

On one of those adventures, I had discovered a bunch of rock pools. Now that may not sound fantastic, but it was. I saw big animals, at the time I wasn't sure what they were, but now I do - they were seals. All bearing different kinds of fluffy coats of fur, ranging from pure white, to a spotty grey, brown and black.

After that day, I'd always return at least once a week to observe them from afar. I don't know much about them, and I'd prefer to minimise the risk of being mauled by an animal. But each year, I'd see small seal pups, sunbathing around the rock pools, chasing each other over the expanse of the beach, or cuddling up to their mothers.

Other times, when the seals weren't there, I'd venture further out, playing around the rock pools, observing the little creatures stuck in them. Sometimes there'd be small crabs hiding in crevices, other times there'd be small fish swimming endlessly in circles.

I'd sit there each day, staring at and observing the different animals, until I'd look up and realise I've overstayed my welcome. On one particular day, I walked around the beach for so long, mesmerised by the waves, gazing at the stars in the sky, that I hadn't noticed it was dark. Upon realising it I had hurried back home, still in a daze, but it was already pitch black by the time I returned, and I had gotten the biggest scolding from my mother, asking where I've been. She was quick to ground me, and I wasn't allowed out of other people's sight for almost two weeks.

Annie Cresta, my best friend, had repetitively asked where I went that day, but I never uttered a word of it to her, only insisting that I had been diving too far from the shore. I've been friends with her for years now, practically since we were in diapers.

A long time ago, we'd go out swimming together in the kelp forests near our homes, they were far away from the main area of fishing, but close enough for adults to not worry. We'd often see sea otters swimming around the kelp, but they stayed far from us. Me and Annie would often follow the otters, as they knew where to get Abalone from. But after each return home, we'd be scolded by our mothers, who insisted we had to stop if we didn't want to get into trouble.

I guess finding abalone and bringing it home without the permission of the authorities counts as poaching.

We'd sometimes share some with other families of trusted friends, but mostly Finnick Odair's family, who were just as close to us.

Anyway, I'm not willing to disclose information about the beach, or the animals, to anybody. Not even my long-time crush, Finnick, the boy with sea-green eyes. I've had a crush on him for years now, but his eyes were always on Annie. I can see why, their personalities match so well, Finnick's confidence and caring nature complements Annie's shy and anxious one. I'm just the third wheel whenever all three of us are together, but I guess I don't mind.

I'll find the right one eventually, I hope.

Too deep in my thoughts, I had failed to realise that there was a low lying tree branch ahead of me. And looking up too late, I walked face first into it. The pain struck me all at once, and I swear I heard a tiny 'crunch'.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" I shouted, hissing in pain. "Stupid branch! Why is it even there?!" I shouted at no one in particular, holding onto my nose tightly. I slowly let go, feeling the burning pain flare up on my skin like a smouldering flame, and then I felt it. The steady flow of blood. It was everywhere. My face, lips, my hands, even my clothes. Who knew a human nose could bleed so much? I looked over myself, crying out at the state of my shirt.

I have to get home, I thought. With quick, long strides, I soon found myself walking through the front door of my house, being greeted by my mother standing in the kitchen, preparing our clothes for the reaping. "I'm home." I said loudly, my tone laced with annoyance, I stepped in and shut the door behind me, walking into the kitchen, still holding tightly onto my nose.

My mother turned her head to greet me with a smile, but that smile quickly disappeared at the sight of me.

Her face paled and her eyes widened in shock, mouth falling agape as a worried yelp left her lips. "What happened to you dear?!" She screamed, dropping everything mid sentence as she made her way over to me.

I rolled my eyes, sighing loudly. "I walked into a tree branch." I muttered under my breath, my shoulders slumping in defeat.

My mother laughed at me, all of the initial worry dissipating from her body. "Really?" She asked in disbelief, howling in laughter, holding her stomach. After two minutes of her laughing, she finally calmed down enough to take a look at my injury, deciding that some cold, wet rag will be enough to soothe both the swelling and the pain. "Annie will be laughing just as much as you, I bet," I said as I walked over to the tap, turning it on, "'Y/n you're so clumsy!'" I mocked her voice, groaning in anticipation of that knock on the front door, awaiting my closest friend to come and retrieve me. I began to wipe the blood off my face and hands with some water, using a towel to dry off after.

Early this year me and Annie had decided to go to our last reaping together. We had both turned 18, and so it would be the last year that our names would be put into that glass bowl. We were ecstatic over it, but at the same time terrified. This was the last year, but what if one of our names gets pulled out? We're both anticipating it, and praying at the same time that it won't happen. It would be devastating, and I don't believe that either of us are prepared to face 23 other tributes in the arena, let alone kill any of them.

But putting those thoughts aside, I decided to focus on the present. I had managed to drown out my mother's voice, but when I tuned in, I realised she was talking about the dress I'll be wearing. It was a sundress, in the faintest colour of royal blue possible, with a frilled, off-white hem. "I wore it years ago, at my very last reaping too," My mother spoke, her hands lovingly gliding over the faded fabric, "I was told that all the boys looked at me that day." She laughed at the memory, now gently holding the dress by the straps, pressing it against my body. "Hold it, dear."

My hands gently held the dress, and I looked down at myself, my eyes widening in shock as I looked over the intricate designs scattered across the expanse of the dress - sunflowers graced the fabric, painted in the faded blue, overlapping each other.

"Go, try it on dear." My mother said, ushering me to my room, "I'll do your hair after, okay?" She said, and shut the door on me before any words could form at the tip of my tongue.

I shook my head with a small smile, setting the fabric down onto my bed. I turned away, beginning to strip out of my blood-tattered t-shirt, discarding it to a dark corner of my room, my shorts and socks following in tow. I walked a few steps over to a large cracked mirror. It leaned proudly against the wall, reflecting the bright sunrays that made their way into my room.

How many hours has it been?

I looked myself over, turning from one side to another, observing. If my name was to be called out...Would I even have a chance in the arena? Most of the kids that are chosen are frail and skinny, others are fit and healthy, and others are strong and tall. Which category did I belong to? With a loud sigh, I moved away from the mirror and back to my bed, where the beautiful dress laid. I looked over it, staring intensely. The sound of birds chirping in the distance, the gentle breeze coming in through my window, and the smell of the sea all invaded my senses at once. I love this place - no matter how difficult life may be. I'll always have some form of a safe place in District 4. If only the circumstances were different, maybe I'd be able to-

"What are you doing?" A voice asked, ripping me out of my thoughts. I slowly looked over to the person, my eyes going first as my head followed suit. It wasn't Annie, nor was it my mother or sister.

"Finnick?! Look away!" I shouted, grabbing the dress, covering myself up. Maybe I did have a crush on him, but that didn't mean I would happily expose myself. "It's not like you've got something I haven't seen already!" Finnick laughed, a wide amused grin gracing his lips, exposing his pearly white teeth. Though in my embarrassment, I failed to hear the dark undertone in his voice. "I don't care! You don't just invade in on my privacy like this!" I said, chucking one of my pillows at him. "Alright, alright! I'll cover my eyes! Is that good enough?" He asked, a tint of amusement still lacing his voice, but the genuineness was unmistakeable.

"Fine. What did you want anyway?" I asked, slipping the dress on as my eyes focused on him like a hawk, making sure his eyes were covered.

"Just came to say good luck, since y'know, it's your last year of reaping." He said, smiling at me as his hands covered his eyes. I smiled with a huff, and smoothened the dress out over myself. The end of it just about reached my knees, but the material was stretchy enough if I needed it to be. I walked over to my mirror, stunned at how it complimented my skin tone, and looked over myself, turning from side to side, completely forgetting that Finnick was even there for a moment.

"Can I look now?" He asked, his voice so smooth and gentle it made my heart flutter. "Yes, go for it." I said, walking over to him.

"How do I look?" I asked, giving him a small twirl. The end of the dress seemed to flow in the air like a jellyfish, the beautiful blue turning almost into a gentle wave, rising slightly before it dropped as I came to a stop.

I looked up to Finnick, searching for a reply, but there wasn't any. He simply stood there, silently watching, but his eyes were slightly widened. I cleared my throat, snapping my fingers near his face. "You look great, I'm sure any guy you want will chase after you after seeing this." He said, almost breathless but still confident, a smirk gracing his lips as he looked me up and down through hooded eyes.

I laughed, shaking my head in denial. "No, I don't think so," I said, leaning against the window frame, staring into those pretty eyes of his. I looked him over, noticing that he was wearing a dark blue tank top, along with some form of tight-fit joggers. His hair glistened in the sun, his skin tan from the rays. His hand slowly reached out to me, and his rough fingers gently latched onto the straps of my sundress, toying with the material.

His touch against my skin seemed to set it on fire. My heart began thudding aggressively against my chest, and I had to focus on breathing normally, fighting the rising heat in my cheeks.

Does he always have to be so touchy? If he comes any closer he'll be able to hear how fast my heart is beating.

"Anyway, have you seen Annie?" I asked, quickly diverting his attention, and his gaze. At that he shook his head, looking up from my shoulders to my eyes. "I was gonna see her after you." He said, biting his bottom lip in thought.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate it, you know how she gets." I finished quietly as a pang of hurt tugged at my heart. Was I jealous?

"Yeah, but it can't be that bad. What are the odds?" He asked, his fingers lightly tugging at the material of my dress, observing how the fabric bounced back to my skin. His eyes concentrated on the material again, his eyebrows furrowing in worry as he remained silent, still chewing on that lip. I observed him, looking over his hair, it looked so fluffy. His forehead glistened, some sweat having built up, his green eyes stuck in a trance. His fingers felt soft against my skin, and his breath lightly fanned over my neck.

I took a deep breath, focusing on how my chest rose up as air filled it, giving myself a spare moment to realise my thoughts. My hands came to hold his own, gently rubbing the sun-kissed skin.

"It'll be okay, if anything happens...I'll be there." I said, giving his hands a soft squeeze, reassuring him softly, "You better get going. She'll think you won't show up." I stroked his cheek affectionately, smiling down at him. I could tell that Annie was at the forefront of his mind, after all, he did have feelings for her, even if he hadn't admitted it. To anyone. But, as a person who believes herself to be in love, I can recognise another person that's in love. Or so I think. "Go Finnick." I said, pushing him away with the tip of my finger against his forehead.

He sent me a quick but charming smile, nodding softly, saying his goodbye's before jogging off in the opposite direction of my house. I began to feel a sadness tug at my chest, and even though I knew I shouldn't feel like this, I couldn't help it.

That sadness stayed with me for a while, it stayed as my mother tied small strands of hair together so that it resembled a net, it remained as she talked about the dress my sister would wear, it remained whilst my sister gaped at how pretty I looked, picking at her nails in nervousness, it remained until the moment that Annie's gentle fist knocked at my front door.

My mother quickly opened it, greeting her sweetly. A small 'Where's Y/n?' could be heard, and I peeked my head out, ready to go and face our last reaping.

"Y/n? You look...Amazing!" Annie exclaimed, a bright smile on her face as she trotted up to me, extending her arms for a hug. "So do you Annie, so do you." I said happily, careful not to ruin her hair. It was tied up into a thick ponytail, with a couple of braids running through it, and two strands of hair framing her face prettily. My own hair was let down, however the top pieces were tied together into an intricate net pattern. My mother had outdone herself, genuinely.

Annie's hugs were a different kind of love - warm and gentle, but they conveyed everything that her words failed to. I could tell by the way her hands trembled around me that she was anxious. Annie wasn't a fighter or a hunter, and anyone that had been around her could tell.

Someone began running to the front door, stepping loudly onto the floor. I looked behind me and saw Hali making her way towards me, her arms outstretched. "Are you going now?" She asked, her voice quiet. I wrapped my arms around her in a hug, placing a small peck on the top of her head. "Yes, we want to be there early to avoid the crowds." I said, patting her head with one hand. Hali looked up at me with her big doe eyes, her bottom lip quivering.

"I'll see you there, right?" She asked, and I could hear the fear in her voice. I nodded softly, smiling at her. "Yes, you'll see me and Annie standing with the other oldest girls, alright? I'll wave at you too." I reassured her, not letting go until she was ready. She nodded her head quickly, shaking like a leaf.

"It'll be okay. They won't choose me." As I said it, Hali unlatched her arms, stepping a bit away. "Alright, I really hope not. But what if they do?" She asked, twiddling with her hair.

"If they choose me, then I'll need you to support me from home okay?" I asked, kneeling down in front of her. "I'll need you to take care of mum, and take care of yourself until I return. Is that okay?" I asked, looking at her with a small smile. She nodded her head, wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. She didn't want to let go, and Annie had to step in and ask 'Are you ready to go' before Hali unwillingly detached herself from me. With a quiet 'yes', I gave Hali one last hug and a reassuring squeeze of her hand, making my way backwards to the door.

"You'll see me for dinner, okay?" I asked, and she nodded her head, wiping away a few tears. "I love you." She said through her tears.

"I love you too, now go get ready." I said, giving her one last hug before walking out of the house, bidding my goodbyes to both my mum and Hali. "Take care of yourself dear. We'll see you there." My mother said, waving to me as she placed one hand on Hali's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You'll see me there, mum. I love you." I said, my mother whispered an 'I love you' back, shutting the door gently. With a heavy sigh, I turned to Annie, linking my arm with hers.

Annie looked at me worriedly, chewing on her bottom lip - a nervous habit she had picked up over the years. "Do you think we'll be okay?" She asked quietly, looking at me, concerned. I nodded my head, forcing a smile onto my lips, even though I could feel the sick tumbling around in my stomach.

Suddenly, the air began to feel a bit too warm, and I could feel sweat beginning to cling uncomfortably to my skin. "We'll be okay Annie," I reassured her, giving her a side hug, "You've got me." I said quietly, nudging her to keep moving forward.

The town square wasn't so far away that we had to hurry, yet we made it there in record time. The queues weren't massive, and so we got through to the courtyard rather quickly, holding onto our throbbing fingers. It wasn't long until everyone else had slowly started filing into the courtyard, every person of every age group was there. I looked around, noticing how quickly the yard had filled with people. My eyes then looked at the entrance, trying to see my sister and mother. Soon enough they entered the courtyard, hand by hand heading to the side-lines, where other adults and young children would file and stand.

Hali's big, wide eyes scanned the area, and she looked like a lost rabbit, all alert and ready to run. She was looking for me, and soon our eyes connected and I sent her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up.

I then looked forward, staring ahead at the temporary golden podium. There were four chairs situated just behind the single podium and two glass balls on each side of it. One chair is for our Mayor, one for the announcer, and two for the two Victors from District 4; Finnick, and an elderly woman named Mags. Everyone is seated in the appropriate seats.

Once the crowd begins to come to a stall, the Mayor takes it as his sign to walk up to the microphone, looking up at the big clock above him, clearing his throat.

It struck 12.

He begins by greeting the citizens, and then proceeds to tell the history of Panem, as he does every year. He talks about the natural disasters, the uprisings, the destruction of District 13 - all of this is old news. After overcoming the Dark Days, laws were created, and alongside them so were the Hunger Games. I manage to tune out his voice, and instead focus on those behind him.

The announcer, who every year comes from the Capitol, gets the opportunity to personally pick out which children will be sent to their deaths in a bloodbath.

Her hair was styled into some sort of glamorous, 3 story high bun, with a few loose strands framing her oddly sharp face. It was dyed an unnatural golden colour, and had sparkling silver beads embedded into it, two particularly large ones placed just at the tip of her hair strands, sitting comfortably on the frilly material of her sparkling, turquoise two piece - a skirt and a corset, her feather-like, white skin covered by the material of a matching jacket. She really outdid herself.

Seated on her left were Finnick and Mags, both looking over the crowds, both wearing unreadable expressions as the Mayor continues to talk.

For a second, I believe that Finnick has noticed me, it looked as though he was looking directly into my eyes. His sea-green eyes peeking into my very soul. My heart fluttered, and the butterflies started circling around in my stomach. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I took a deep breath, but then I'm harshly hit with reality, and remember that Annie was right next to me, probably looking at him too.

He looks away as the Mayor begins to name the winners of District 4, and stands up along with Mags to wave at the crowds, being greeted with the appropriate level of applause. Curt and short, but it didn't matter. Next, the Mayor announces the Capitol representative, Sylvia Borgnino, and she stands up, waving excitedly at us, making tiny steps towards the microphone, her cheery voice echoing around us in seconds.

"Happy Hunger Games everyone! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" She shouts excitedly, almost hopping on her toes.

I guess there is at least one person here that's happy about the games.

She thanks the Mayor for his kindness and welcoming, and then quickly turns back to us, the audience, her voice changing to a more serious tone.

"And now," She pauses, leaning over the podium and looking over at everyone, "We shall draw the names of the Tributes." She states, slowly walking over to the glass bowl full of girls' names, the sound of her heels clacking, beating at my eardrums.

"Ladies first."

I look over to Finnick, and then Annie, and then Hali. Hali is already looking at me, and so is my mum. I reach my hand out to hold Annie's, squeezing tightly as I feel how clammy her hand is, my chest tightening as I breathed. I swallow an imaginary lump, feeling how my throat constricts uncomfortably.

The sun was beating down on us, its' rays glazing over my skin, bubbling up sticky sweat. Were did the clouds go?

Wearily, I glance up at the large clock towering over us, its' heavy ticking weighing down on my shoulders.

Sylvia Borgnino's gloved hand shoots up into the air dramatically, and the crowd collectively goes silent. No one dares to even breathe as she animatedly rummages through the name cards for a solid 10 seconds.

It better not be me. I swear if it's me I will riot, I think to myself. The nerves tickle at the inner lining of my stomach, and for a moment I believe that I might throw up.

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of my forehead

Tick, tock.

Was the sun always so hot?

Tick, tock.

I swallow heavily.

Her hand grasps onto something, and she dramatically withdraws it, menacingly crossing over to the podium.

"And the female tribute from District 4 is.."

Please not me. Not me. My breathing quickens as she draws on her silence, smiling devilishly down at the crowd. My hair was sticking to my neck, creating an unpleasant sensation.

I swallow dryly, my mouth feeling as though I had been deprived of water.

As the words leave her mouth, I can feel my heart drop.

"Annie Cresta."

Time seems to stop. I can no longer feel Annie's hand in my grasp, her fingers having slowly slipped out. I turn my head, feeling my chest heaving up and down, tears pricking at my eyes. My hands fly up to my mouth in shock, intense tremors travelling from my shoulders up to my fingertips.

Annie falls to her knees with a thud, hiding her face in her hands as she cries out hysterically, her mane-like hair looking like a flame. I follow suit, embracing her in my arms, whispering quiet 'It's okay's', holding her head on my shoulder. The other girls slowly step away, creating a circle around us.

What do I do? Do I let her go? That girl won't last a minute in there!

Two peacekeepers rip through the crowds aggressively, roughly pushing anyone out of their way, before coming to a stop in front of us, heaving Annie up by her arms, ushering her towards the stage. Her face is covered in sweat and tears, her fiery hair sticking uncomfortably to her face, her mouth wide open as she wails.

"Please! No! I can't go in there!" She screams, digging her heels into the ground, protesting, thrashing her arms around. She looks as though she suddenly became haunted, a sort of violent air surrounding her.

With small footsteps, I attempt to follow after her, but more peacekeepers arrive to stop me, creating a blockade of bodies. I look towards my mother and sister, eyes wide, and see their shocked faces. My mother is shaking her head in a 'no', but it's too late. Hali looks at me wide-eyed, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she senses what I'm about to do.

I look to Finnick, noticing that he had stood up from his chair, his fists clamped shut, once tan skin now having turned a strained white colour. His eyes are stuck to Annie, and never dare to leave her once.

Before Sylvia Borgnino can utter a single word, I raise my hand, pushing through the peacekeepers. All heads turn to me. The guards stop pushing Annie, and she looks to me, her thrashing easing a bit.

The words leave my lips before I can even process them myself.

With a dry mouth, clammy hands and a wildly beating heart, I shout, "I volunteer!"

706 notes · View notes

rhysdarbinizedarby · 1 year ago

Text

‘Our Flag Means Death’: How Blackbeard & Stede’s Fantastical Underwater Reunion Came Together

[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death, Season 2, Episodes 1-3.]

It doesn’t take more than a single second to recognize Kate Bush‘s haunting and heartbreaking tune “This Woman’s Work,” as Blackbeard, a.k.a. Ed (Taika Waititi), is pushed from a clifftop to plunge into the ocean’s depths below in Our Flag Means Death‘s Season 2 installment, “The Innkeeper.” But how did the pirate heartbroken over Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby) wind up in this position? It’s a delicate and winding path that starts with the infamous pirate’s unraveling over the course of the latest season’s first two episodes.

Believing Stede intentionally abandoned him after planning to run away together at the end of Season 1, Blackbeard embraces the version of himself so many have conjured up in their minds as he leads the Revenge’s “new” crew to pillage and plunder on the high seas. His unhinged behavior eventually forces Jim (Vico Ortiz), Izzy (Con O’Neill), Frenchie (Joel Fry), Archie (Madeleine Sami), and Fang (David Fane) to violently take control of the ship and neutralize Blackbeard — or so they think — after he steers them directly into a storm.

When Zheng Yi Sao’s (Ruibo Qian) Red Flag happens across an eerie-looking Revenge on the ocean, Stede dives overboard in his excitement over the possibility of seeing Ed, only to be told various excuses for his absence by the crew aboard. When Stede directly addresses Izzy regarding Blackbeard’s lack of presence, the now peg-legged pirate claims the Revenge crew dropped Ed on a beach.

This seems to ring true as we see Blackbeard wash ashore and cared for by his own former captain Hornigold (Mark Mitchinson). While together, Blackbeard and Hornigold discuss the mutiny that took place and Blackbeard’s hopes for the future. When a role-playing scenario testing Blackbeard’s ability to be an Innkeeper, a profession he’s interested in, goes awry, he attacks Hornigold, killing the tarp-clad pirate. But when Hornigold rises again, Blackbeard realizes something is off.

Aboard the Revenge, Ed’s body is uncovered below deck. Believing him dead, Zheng Yi Sao is forced to consider killing the Revenge crew for mutiny after initially welcoming them aboard the Red Flag. And Stede has to cope with the idea that his love may be gone forever.

After hatching an escape plan for the Revenge team, Stede and pals return to their former ship, leaving Zheng stranded without a wheel. Going to sit with Ed’s body, Stede wonders why he had to go and get himself killed. Meanwhile, Blackbeard begins to realize he’s stuck somewhere between life and death, a place this Hornigold manifestation calls a “gravy basket.”

As the two men banter about the pros and cons of choosing life over death, Hornigold ties a boulder around Ed’s waist and throws it from the cliff they’re standing on, pushing Blackbeard into the ocean. Just as it seems as though he’ll succumb to the waves, Blackbeard proves Bush’s song right: Perhaps there’s a little life in him yet. When Stede lifts the cloth from his face on the Revenge, underwater Ed reacts to the change. Peering into the water, he sees a light from which a fantastical mermaid version of Stede emerges.

In the real world, Stede reacts to Blackbeard’s twitching hand, taking it in his and pleading for him to live as a montage of their moments together rolls alongside Bush’s still-playing song. The final seconds of the episode see Ed’s eyes open, giving Stede hope.

So, how did this moving turn of events come to pass? A team full of creatives was responsible for bringing the captivating and satisfying reunion.

Stede’s Mermaid Tail

“It’s a huge process,” putting together Stede’s practical mermaid look, according to costume designer Gypsy Taylor. She says “it started with me begging everybody” to avoid visual FX and make a tail for the sequence. The orange and glittering look could have followed several different styles, but ultimately, Taylor notes, “I thought if Stede is going to turn into a mermaid, and it’s in Blackbeard’s dream, it’s sort of his vision of a mermaid.”

Considering this, in Taylor’s mind, Blackbeard wouldn’t envision some epic fantastical creature; instead, Stede would “just be like a goldfish. He’d just be like a sweet harmless goldfish.” In putting sketches together of the ensemble, Taylor acknowledges the symbolism of the goldfish motif: “There’s a huge Chinese element that we have coming through, and goldfish in Chinese culture is considered lucky.” As this vision of Stede was responsible for helping bring Ed back to life, that luck was certainly there.

“I thought that was a pretty beautiful thing, that they meet each other under the ocean and then they find each other,” Taylor gushes. “And so I went a little deep on that, but really he’s just a goldfish.” In order to achieve the goldfish mermaid look, Taylor teamed up with props master Hayley Egan, who’s based out of Australia. “She happens to excel at making mermaid tails,” Taylor shares.

After securing Egan’s involvement, Taylor says, “We fit Rhys in a jumbo stretch long skirt and made sure it was really tight so he could still sort of do this dolphin [swimming] action. And then we bought these mono fins, which you can purchase online and put your feet in.” Safety was key, though. “He had to swim really deep and for a really far distance, and he’d never done anything like that before,” Taylor explains. “So it had to be really safe and doable.”

Once that was figured out, Taylor says Egan “cast something like 3,000 hand-sculpted silicon scales. There’s something like five kilograms of glitter in the whole thing. And then we hand-dyed pleated chiffon for all the fins, so that when he was swimming through the water, it would have this magic feel.”

While the scene may play as emotional and romantic, the story behind getting Stede’s mermaid look from Australia to New Zealand was actually quite comical. “[Egan] sliced two suitcases in half, filled [them with the mermaid tail], and then when it went through customs, the customs guy said to her, ‘Are you bringing fish into this country?’ And she’s like, ‘Yes, yes I am.'”

In total, there were four tails, including “a practice tail, a stunt tail, because Rhys had to do quite a few lessons before we got the real one on. And the real one was super precious, and chlorine’s very strong, it eats fabrics away, so we wanted to save the hero one for the hero shot,” Taylor reveals. When it came time to film, “We put him in [the tail], and it was just amazing.” In order to get Darby into the pool, Taylor says a ramp had to be built and the actor was placed in a wheelchair while costumed “and pushed in.” As unglamorous as it sounds, she adds, “it was like Rhys’s dream come true.”

How Kate Bush Entered the Music Mix

It’s safe to say Kate Bush has been having a moment on TV since last year’s “Running Up That Hill” needle drop on Stranger Things, but music supervisor Maggie Phillips says, “This Woman’s Work” was selected before Netflix‘s hit made headlines with their use of the aforementioned song. “When we were placing [the song in the season lineup],” Phillips says, “it was maybe weeks after Stranger Things, and I was worried that we would look like copycats.”

Phillips maintains that the song was in the mix before, but it ultimately “doesn’t matter because really what matters is that Kate Bush is a queen and more and more people need to know her music.”

She says, “From what I heard from David [Jenkins], it was a song that Taika was attached to.” At first, Phillips was reluctant to go with the song due to its prior uses, but “David told me not to worry about [that], that people have short-term memory when it comes to music.”

While she debated with the team over cutting it, “[David] has the visuals in his mind. I don’t. I’m just hearing it with a script and I had no clue how it was going to work until I saw the first cut, and it was beautiful and they picked a part of the song that worked really well with the visuals, so they sort of made it their own,” Phillips explains. “They added a different context to the song that I wouldn’t have been able to imagine myself. So they proved me wrong for sure.”

It’s hard to imagine the scene without Bush’s song. “It changes the way you listen to the song,” Phillips notes. “I got chills watching it and I know that song so well and haven’t gotten chills like that in a long time.” With all of the buildup, “You’re waiting for them to have their romantic moment. You’re waiting for three episodes for that to happen. And so it’s so cathartic when that song comes on, and you see them come together in this fantasy world under the sea. It’s just perfect.” This led her to email Jenkins. “I was like, ‘You were right. I was wrong. But this was beautiful, and thank you so much.'”

Blackbeard’s Wet Wig Woes

Anyone watching the scene unfold would have to notice Blackbeard’s silver tresses weaving through the water, a feat much more difficult behind the scenes than the seemingly simple sequence onscreen. “We filmed that quite late in the season, and so we were really planning and thinking about that all the way through [filming]. I was a bit nervous,” hair and makeup designer Nancy Hennah admits. “I knew that he was going to have to be under the water with his wig on for quite a long time.”

Even with high-quality wig glue, Hennah says, “You can do everything you can to make that wig stay on, but there’s a limited amount of time that the glue will last. So we had to use different products than we would normally use to get the wig down.” Because the product Hennah normally uses to keep hair back in a wig is water soluble, “it melts, and the hair starts coming out from the lace, and it can ruin the whole look of the wig.” She had to come up with a creative fix.

“I glued his own hair back, and then we glued the lace on top of that, and wildly, it lasted right until the very last shot when they were dragging him through the water by the ankles,” Hennah reveals. “The wig just came off completely after they’d finished shooting. And so he came up out of the water, and the wig was off to the side, [and he goes], ‘I think my wig came off.'” She calls the success of the wig “incredible” and “just a fluke really.”

When it came to capturing Darby’s underwater look, it was all about blending the mermaid tail with his skin. “With Stede, Gypsy had a beautiful mermaid tail made, and we did a whole lot of practice with different types of silicon and things that we had to blend that piece between his skin and the tail. We made these pieces of silicon with glitter and things in them that we individually stuck over the top of the mermaid tail,” Hennah details.

Again, there were concerns about getting “things to stick underwater,” but watching the scene come together from behind the camera eased those. “[When] we were standing there on the set that day and watching the monitor, it just was so beautiful that we were all blown away by it, and that tank that they were filming in was a couple of stories deep, and to be out there in that water, it was challenging, and they both did so well. It just went off without a hitch. It was one of those great days where it just worked for everybody.”

Don’t miss what else is in store for the season. Stay tuned for additional interviews and content as the second season of Our Flag Means Death unfolds.

Our Flag Means Death, New Episodes, Thursdays, Max

Source: TV Insider

#rhys darby #taika waititi #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #costume designer #costume details

625 notes · View notes

libraryofgage · 3 months ago

Text

PJO Steddie Eight

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

This series was line-jumped on ko-fi! Thank you for the ko-fis <3

To learn more about line-jumping, please refer to this post

Anyway, another series was also line-jumped and I'm hoping to have that one posted by this time next week as long as life doesn't take me out lmao

as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :^)

-----

Steve is an awful, horrible, terrible person. Not only did he kiss Eddie without making sure it was okay, but he even spent the entire fight before that wrapping lightning around Eddie. He even let his control slip enough to shock Eddie when he was too distracted by lips and teeth and tongue. Worst of all, he can't stop thinking about it, his fingers twitching every so often with the urge to find Eddie and kiss him until they're both stupid.

What's he supposed to do in this situation? Talk to Eddie like he's an emotionally mature person capable of communicating his thoughts and feelings? Steve would laugh at the thought if he weren't so busy sulking by the lake.

It's a nice night for a sulk. The moon is full, its reflection wavering in the water that gently laps against the shore. He can barely hear the victory celebration around the bonfire, singing and laughter and joyful white noise drifting through the trees behind him. Steve lets it wash over him, his chin on his knees as he stares blankly at the water and tries to figure out what he's doing with his life.

“I gotta admit, that is some impressive sulking.”

Steve jolts, twisting around to see a man in cut-off shorts and a crop top lounging on a boulder next to him. The man looks chiseled, but not overly buff, with his arms being the most defined. His skin is a deep brown, and his smile is blinding. He appeared out of nowhere, and if that didn't give away his godliness, the bow and heart-tipped arrows would have.

“Eros,” Steve says, forcing his shoulders to relax. “What are you doing here?”

“Not even a hello? Am I not pretty enough for you right now?” Eros asks.

“Hello, Eros. What are you doing here?”

That earns him a laugh, the sound lingering in Steve's ears and trying to worm its way into his brain. “Fair enough,” Eros says, idly twirling one of his arrows between his fingers. “I’m here on my mother’s behalf, actually.”

Steve tenses, studying Eros with renewed suspicion. “What does Aphrodite want?” he asks.

“You know Mother and her wagers,” Eros replies, shrugging when he meets Steve’s gaze. “She’s sent me to make sure she wins it. Her wager, that is. The one about you and a certain son of Hermes.”

That does absolutely nothing to assuage Steve’s worries. In fact, it makes them stronger. He pushes himself up, brushing pebbles and dirt off his jeans. “I hope you’re not planning to use your arrows.”

Eros blinks, looking from Steve to the arrow he’s been twirling. And then he laughs again, nearly doubling over. “No, no, I wouldn’t waste an arrow on you two. Puh-lease, Sparky, give me a little more credit than that.”

“Sparky?”

“Isn’t it fitting?” Eros asks, flashing a shit-eating grin that still manages to come off as charming. Steve would call it impish and mischievous, if someone asked him. Thankfully, nobody is. “Anyway, no, consider this more of a friendly nudge so Mother doesn’t throw a fit.”

“What are you even trying to nudge me about?” Steve asks. He thinks he’s lost the plot somewhere between Eros showing up and getting called Sparky.

Eros sighs and looks up at the sky like the stars will help him. “I usually enjoy watching people dance around each other, but I’d greatly appreciate it if you and Eddie could start dancing with each other now. Preferably starting tonight. Selene has given you a particularly beautiful moon to work with, you know.”

Steve looks up at the moon for less than a second, but that’s more than enough for Eros to be gone by the time he looks back. He sighs, frowning at the vacant boulder.

He isn’t stupid. He knows what Eros was getting at. The thought is just terrifying, is all. He doesn’t trust himself to not hurt Eddie. Just being around Eddie makes his fingertips buzz with energy, and his control has slipped more in the past few weeks than ever before. Eddie might say he doesn’t mind or that he trusts Steve, but the problem is that Steve doesn’t trust himself.

That fact just frustrates him more. He frowns, runs a hand through his hair, and sits down on the boulder. Steve would love to just throw caution to the wind. He’d love to just hope for the best and hold Eddie’s hand and not worry about things. But that’s not the kind of person he is. Steve does what’s best for those around him, he works himself into a frenzy thinking about their safety, and doesn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself in the process.

It’s probably not healthy, but it’s kept him and the kids alive and mostly happy, and that’s what really matters.

Right?

Right.

But gods is that tiring. Maybe...maybe he can be a tiny bit selfish. He won't throw caution to the wind, but maybe he can test the waters. And if nothing explodes on him, he can see where it goes.

-----------------

Eddie is almost impressed by how well Steve can avoid a person when he puts his mind to it. He hasn’t seen a glimpse of the other boy since he ran off. And it’s not for lack of trying, either. Eddie has practically scoured the camp from top to bottom as everyone else helped set up the Victory Bonfire.

He ultimately decides that searching like this is pointless, so he finds a scrap of paper in his tent and folds it into an airplane. He writes Steve’s name on one wing and doodles a guitar and bat on the other before sending it flying. It’s not the flashiest power a demigod can receive from their parent, but Eddie has never been happier to have it as he follows.

The paper airplane leads him past the huge bonfire, skirts around the woods, and really starts to pick up speed as it gets closer to the lake. A wave of relief surges through Eddie when he sees a familiar figure past the tree line. Before the plane can zoom onto the rocky beach, Eddie snatches it from the air and shoves it into his pocket.

Steve is sitting on a boulder by the lake, knees pulled up to his chest as he stares out at the water. For a moment, Eddie gets the feeling he’d like to just sink into the water and disappear for a while. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea if Steve was a Poseidon kid, but he’s more likely to drown than find peace as a son of Zeus.

Eddie hesitates, wondering if he should interrupt, when Steve looks over his shoulder at him and says, “Hey.”

That’s all the invitation Eddie needs for tension to drain from his shoulders as he walks over. “Hey,” he says, climbing the rock to sit next to Steve. They’re not close enough for their shoulders to brush, but a small lean is all it would take. “You’re missing out on some legendary s’mores at the bonfire.”

Steve snorts, propping his chin on his knees. He’s silent for a few seconds before whispering, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Stevie, I’m fine,” Eddie promises, leaning forward so he can get a better look at Steve’s expression. His eyebrows are pulled together, and Eddie has to suppress the urge to rub his thumb over the wrinkle that forms between them. “You didn’t actually hurt me, you know.”

“You were surrounded by lightning, Eddie,” Steve says, frowning at him. “You probably have a burn somewhere you can’t see. It couldn’t have been good for your heart, either.”

No, it probably wasn’t good for Eddie’s heart, but not for the reason Steve is worrying about. Eddie got too excited fighting with Steve; the lightning that crackled and arched between them made his adrenaline surge. For the first time, he actually enjoyed combat instead of dreading it.

“Well, let’s check,” he says, sliding off the boulder. Before Steve can question him, he shrugs off his vest and yanks his shirt over his head. He holds his arms out to the side and looks at Steve expectantly. “Go ahead.”

A few seconds pass before Steve gets off the rock and moves to stand behind him. Eddie can feel Steve’s eyes passing over every inch of his back, searching meticulously for any signs of lightning-related injury. When a few silent minutes pass without finding anything, Steve stands in front of him to continue his search.

Eddie gets to watch him in return this time. Steve’s lips press together when he’s concentrating, his eyebrows twitching and shifting with whatever thoughts are passing through his head. He stands with one hand on his hip, the other hovering as though he wants to brush his fingers across any suspected bruises.

“See?” Eddie says, “All good. You didn’t hurt me, Stevie.”

A few seconds pass before Steve slowly exhales and nods, tension draining from his shoulders. “What about your heart?” he asks, glancing at Eddie’s chest.

It’s such a perfect invitation, isn’t it? Eddie would be a fool to not take advantage, right? He’s not always the smoothest demigod in camp, but even he can see the perfect moment in front of him.

He grins and takes Steve’s hand, bringing it to his chest. He places Steve’s palm over his heart. “What do you think?” he asks.

Steve frowns, tilting his head slightly. “Your heart is beating faster,” he says, looking up with concern clear in his eyes.

“That’s not because of lightning, sweetheart.”

Eddie feels the exact moment Steve understands what he means. It’s the moment his control slips just enough for a tiny spark to pass from palm to chest. It makes Eddie’s skin prickle as he grins.

“Sorry,” Steve whispers, trying to pull his hand away.

Eddie holds tighter, stepping closer until Steve is leaning against the boulder with nowhere to go. “I like when you shock me. It doesn’t hurt. It tingles, but it doesn’t hurt. In fact, it felt good when you kissed me,” he says.

“I’m sorry about that, too,” Steve says, grimacing as he looks at the lake over Eddie’s shoulder. “I didn’t…I should’ve asked.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie tells him, leaning in until their noses are almost brushing.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, Stevie. In case you couldn’t tell by now, I like like you. Since the moment I saw you, really.”

Steve blinks, and then he starts laughing. “Really? Like like? What, are we in middle school?” he asks.

“You can’t knock the simplicity of the middle school confession, sweetheart. It’s got no room for misunderstanding.”

With an amused eye roll, Steve says, “Sure, if you say so.” He’s still smiling, his gaze focused on Eddie now instead of the lake. A faint blush has colored his cheeks. “In that case, I like like you, too.”

Eddie grins. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

In answer, Steve places his free hand on Eddie’s shoulder and tugs him the last few inches closer. Their lips connect, a tiny static shock passing between them and making Eddie shudder. He pushes closer before Steve can pull away, trapping Steve’s hand between them and bracing himself on the boulder.

The kiss starts and stays slow, a gentle push and pull. Eddie would be happy if it never ended, but Steve pulls away after a few seconds. "You're sure?" he asks.

"Yeah, Stevie, I'm sure," Eddie promises, studying him for a moment before pulling back and leading Steve away from the boulder. "Wanna dance?"

"There's no music," Steve says.

"Who cares?" Eddie asks, tugging Steve closer. He watches Steve glance up at the moon, hesitating for a few seconds before nodding. "Just follow my lead."

Steve smiles, letting Eddie lead him along the beach, dancing to music he can't hear.

------

Tag List

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd,

@weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13,

@a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane,

@hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun, @paintgonewrong,

@sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal,

@fallingchemicaldiscos, @am-i-obssed-probably, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @estrellami-1, @fandomcartographer,

@steddie-as-they-go, @cris-wants-a-word, @potato-of-the-lord, @plasticcrotches, @enigmahaze,

@melodymeddler, @lololol-1234, @sageclipse, @steddiehyperfixation, @livelaughlexa,

@genderless-spoon, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @r0binscript, @thelittleclare, @blondie1006,

@bxnghy

#steddie #steddie fic #semi divine steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pjo au #percy jackson au #stranger things #my writing

95 notes · View notes

dragonflavoredcake · 2 months ago

Text

Pearl: If you wear glasses, this is your daily reminder to take them off and make sure they're clean!

Grian: They are never clean. They will never be clean. They will be dirty within a nanosecond of being washed. The water itself will make them dirty. No cloth is pristine enough. I am Sisyphus and these glasses are my boulder

#incorrect hermitcraft quotes #hermitcraft incorrect quotes #pearlescentmoon #grian #sky duo #sky siblings #skyblings #hermitcraft #hermitblr

68 notes · View notes

thedivineflowers · 1 year ago

Note

what if middleschoolerMC went through the mirror and it was lunch time and it was like dead quiet in the cafeteria and all you hear from middle school MC is " what's up my pookies we up mentally and literally" while being clearly exhausted how would they react?

This shit funny as hell idk where or when you thought of this but damn my tummy hurt

You put your hand on the mirror, expecting to touch the glass but your hand felt a watery substance and you were now in the school cafeteria of NRC. Because of the sudden appearance of the portal and you the cafeteria was deadass quiet just staring at you.

You being the tired and uneducated ass kid you are you held up 'ily' signs while tiredly saying. "Whaddup my pookie wookies we up mentally and literally" before you comfortably laid yourself on the cold cafeteria floor in your sweatpants and sandals.

Riddle:

You just caught him in time! His fifteen minutes of being at the table were up but you suddenly spawning and laying down on the floor has caught his attention. He has now brought you to Heartslaybul to sleep on his bed while he has Trey make some tea for you to help boost your energy because you just fell asleep on the floor like it was a water bed 🧍‍♂️. He obviously has people check on you and your health and then he'll soak in you being there with him. He'll prolly ask if you have homework depending on how long you were gone .

Trey:

He did not expect you at all. Like you left gracefully but came back with eye bags heavier than a boulder. But once he has made sure that you are well despite your exhaustion he will proceed to take care of you himself before processing that you're actually there with him.

Cater:

Fucker took a photo of you with the caption of 'just found this goofball sleeping on the floor 😆!' Before using this split card thingy to pick you up and take you to his dorm so you can sleep. He gives you your kid safe vitamin gummies and your hot chips or whatever and then he'll tell you about all the shit that's been going on while you were gone 🤫.

Deuce and Ace:

FUCK YOU TUMBLR FOR DELETING MY SHIT AGAIN 😡😡😡

They both like honestly acted like you just came from class and not from another world you went home to but they pick you up and put you on the fancy couches they have in club rooms and act like your a dead body when you're just sleeping after the portal took a lot more of energy from you. But when you wake up they have a cup of coffee and an energy drink for you. Or you could terrify the two and mix both the coffee and energy drink up 🧍‍♂️.

Leona:

Bro was all the way in the back where you appeared but he was kinda annoyed that you fell asleep on the cafeteria floor of all places. He'll take you to the little garden thingy and have you lay your head on his bicep or whatever and use his tail to protect you from whatever the fuck students are after you if you picked any fights before you left 🧍‍♂️.

Ruggie:

He doesn't give a flying fuck he just cares that you're back! He will personally use his unique magic to make you get up and go to his dorm so that you two can goof off. Bro probably has had no sleep ever since you left because he's used to the two of you sleeping on the floor or on the edge of the bed or the balcony.

Jack:

Bro planted a cactus for you and is taking extra special care of it for you but he only finds out that you haven't been taking care of yourself 😡. It's cool your back after so long but at least make sure you sleep at reasonable times. He has those baby body wash bottles that are supposed to soothe them and make them go to sleep faster in this bathroom and he will have you use it when you take a shower and then he'll have you sleep the whole day so your ready for tomorrow because he's dragging you with him.

Octanvinelle:

They're picking you up and taking you straight to the dorm to relax because having a sleepy you with them will not be good for them (you cursed them out one time because you saw Floyd in his eel form because his potion wore off and you thought it was an actual eel because you were still sleepy and you tried stepping on him.)

Scarabia:

Kalim is gonna ride the magic carpet so fast and drag Jamil with him his hair is gonna get taken out of it's ponytail by force. They picked you up quickly before taking you back to Scarabia and having you lay down while they treat you like you just got a fever. Well you did eventually get one but they still stayed in the same room as you and eventually moved you to Kalims room to sleep in there while Jamil monitored you and Kalim got you some blankets because you kept on saying you were cold. (Your fever got worse but Jamil was able to save the day)

Pomefiore:

Vil is gagging by how awful you look and how unkept you look with how your hair is knotted and how your skin looked like it would start falling off by how dry it was. He wasn't even going to correct the way you spoke before he had Rook quickly take you to Pomefiore and had you sleep in your old room while Epel grabbed a bunch of skincare stuff and hair care because it needs to be saved. Rook is monitoring you and making sure that you sleep well before Vil puts a bunch of random stuff on your skin and in your hair. Epel is helping as well by feeding you a type of apple juice to replenish you because you looked dehydrated as fuck.

Ignihyde:

Idia ofc didn't know until Ortho went over and saw you sleeping on the floor like it was a water bed. Ortho then picks you up and takes you over to Ignihyde where Idia has you sleep on his bed until you wake up. Ortho went over to Sam's shop and bought some medicine for you and some Gatorade to cover up the taste of the medicine. (EW MEDICINE 🤮🤮) Once you wake up Idia and Ortho are hugging you for as long as they can before you go and do some more stupid shit and make yourself exhausted again.

Diasomnia:

Malleus happen to have seen you laying down on the floor and brought you over to Diasomnia where you sleep on a bunch of Silvers pillows in Malleus' room where he had Lilia watch over you until you woke up while Sebek and Silver went to prepare your room for you. Once you woke up you were met with a bowl of some goo goo that Lilia claimed to be soup. (It was hot as shit and the bowl was this close to breaking if it was any hotter.) You refused to eat it so Malleus made you some tea and Sebek made a bath for you because you were cold with your fucking sandals exposing your feet and making you this close to getting sick. (If you get sick he will blame it on if your didn't wear shoes, your feet were not covered, your hair was wet, or the fan in your room blasting on the highest level.) Silver went to go sleep next to you in your room so that he can check up on you and make sure that you're alright.

Idk how it got to me making me sick but 👍

Bro my ass was throwing up all day today I am tired but I got the motivation to write this and I altered it a bit so whoever requested it I hope it's still okay.

Anyways I'ma go do some oogly boogly shit maybe or sleep idk but bye y'all kithes ❤️❤️❤️😘😘😘😘

390 notes · View notes

windvexer · 10 months ago

Note

Heylo! I wanted to ask about your experience post initiation if that's alright .i recently did a tarot reading and got told that to please spirits in order to begin a good working relationship, i must contemplate and be ready to be Changed. there were lots of signs that it could lead to feelings of isolation, and otherness but it will lead me deep into myself (sry if this is too long.) i want to know if u went through something similar, or something else, and is it worth it personally for you. I would also love some pointers as to what I'm supposed to contemplate about. I don't mind the isolation but maybe I'm not understanding some key aspect of it. anyway thank you and i love your blog it's an irreplaceable resource for me. :)

Hi :)

Spirit-lead initiation into witchcraft is a controversial topic, I think in part because it can be very uncomfortable to discuss.

I have been relatively open on my blog that my initiatory experience was extremely painful and required a level of sacrifice and transformation that I was too immature to comprehend at the beginning of the process. Even now it's not something I'm sure I could articulate.

For me it was a process that lasted the majority of a decade. I think this is a relatively average timeline - which I just bring up because I think it's useful to point out that if you are facing the same sort of thing that I faced, it's not just going to be over in a few weeks or months.

Was it worth it personally for me? I don't know. Right now, my answer is that I love who I am and I like my life, and I wouldn't be who I am or have this life if I didn't go through that process. I used to say I'd never do it again if I had the choice. Now, a few years after the fact, sometimes I say I'd do it again. Maybe in a decade I'll think it was worth it.

It's my belief that the sort of initiatory process I, and others, have gone through, isn't necessary for most people to form a good working relationship with the spirits.

I believe that if you have the choice, you should very, very carefully contemplate initiation and only agree to it after a prolonged period of reflection.

So, what's there to contemplate? I dunno. Otherness on the path to spirit-working was a major part of my trip, so if we are kindred, here's maybe something to contemplate:

You are a boulder. You are a very nice boulder in the wilderness. You're composed of many varieties of minerals and metals. You are a gorgeous boulder, glittering in the sunlight, hosting a unique map of inclusions and ore veins unlike any other boulder in the world.

You sit high up on a mountainside. A few meters behind you is a river. Below you is a dry valley.

The waters of the river are pressing up behind you. They rush past you, sweeping by, continuing their eternal circuit in the mountain-range, but rarely trickling into the dry valley below.

One day, you gain an interest - as some boulders do - in allowing some of the water to trickle past you into the valley below. The secrets of nature will allow you to sometimes let water to lap up over your sides, and through narrow crevices, to water the plants you find to be most beautiful, and provide drinking pools for the little animals you hold most dear.

Little by little, the valley beneath you begins to change as you apply yourself to learning the secrets of nature and letting the water flow past you.

After some time, the water begins to whisper in your ear. It appreciates your interest in its flow - it likes your focus on the river. A deal can be brokered:

The river will dissolve only some of the minerals and inclusions that run through you, creating hollow tunnels. Through these tunnels, the water can flow much more easily and rapidly.

But there are conditions.

The conditions are that whatever is washed away can never be returned. How could it? What force in the universe could restore the crystalline structure within you once the waters have carried it away?

And, the river chooses which inclusions will be removed. The river is very wise in these matters; it knows better than anyone how water can best flow through any boulder. It isn't up to you to choose what leaves, and it isn't up to you to choose the nature in which the water will flow through you.

Finally, if you use the secrets of nature to ever stop the flow of water through the new inclusions, you are at risk of crumbling away. The empty caverns within you will dry up and leave you empty in places that should be whole.

The river asks you to contemplate and return with an answer.

Of course it leads you deep into yourself. The river is going to run right through you.

#answered

166 notes · View notes

devosin · 6 months ago

Text

PROLOGUE — are you seriously doing this over text ?!

warnings: scaramouche pov, break-up scene, kazuha x scaramouche, depictions of a panic attack, self hatred, insecurities, being referred to as 'unlovable', breaking objects, depictions of anxiety, melt down(?), written portion below.

spotify playlist: scaramouche playlist (listen for full effect)

Scaramouche stared at his phone, blankly, waiting—no, praying for a response, turning his phone on and off, only to be met with a blank screen. The panic had settled in awhile ago, making home in his anxious mind, yet now a feeling of dread washed over him.

He was currently hunched over, on the floor, with each moment that passed, his senses heightened, suddenly the air felt too heavy to breath in, his lungs felt small, the silence in his room that he often favored was now too overbearing, the dead of the night made his anxiety worse—his insecurities rouse up to the surface, for a second his mind gave him the peace of silence, the freedom, the deception of calmth—yet within moments, memories replayed themselves in his head.

His previous doubts, failures, dreadful moments of paranoia, crept to the surface, and the previous insecurities that drowned him, so much so that it led to this very moment in time, had submerged him.

For a second, he heard the sound of a notification—for a brief moment, the world surrounding him slowed down, and he could finally breathe, only to be met with some random delivery update . . In a blank fit of rage, he threw his phone across the room, trying to distance himself as much as he could from the wretched device.

You know, sometimes he wished he was normal, and could just handle things like a normal fucking person. And just handle rejection and failure, but he wasn't normal . . he will never be normal.

He curled into himself, giving his body a break, it felt like a boulder had crashed over his entire being. Scaramouche tried to breathe only to choke in the process, only then did he realize he was hyperventilating, tears falling from his useless eye sockets, he carelessly rubbed the tears away, only for more to come out.

It felt like the dam, held together by glue and sticks, had finally broke, and so did all those stupid walls he had made. He wasn't an emotional person, emotions are pathetic but he had buried these feelings of insecurities for so long, that there was only so long until he'd break.

To be fair, he knew his actions would catch up to him, he knew his flaws made him unlovable, yet he hoped, he had moment of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could still be loved trough all his scars, but those scars made him who he was, and who he was, was an unlovable freak.

Scaramouche took a shaky breath, his hand grasped the locket placed so carefully around his neck, and he tugged, pulled, until the thin chain ripped, and he threw it, as far as he could, yet everywhere he looked there was traces of him. . . and no matter how many things he broke, no matter how many things he threw away . . he would never fucking escape the reminders, that he lost something that made him feel whole, and that he was truly a freak of nature.

Scaramouche woke up, somehow he had fallen asleep in the middle of the floor, his eyes swollen, bloodshot, he could really use some coffee right now . . or alcohol . . anything that could briefly erase this mess of emotions, he got up off the floor, inspecting the damage in his bedroom, and some part of him was grateful that his roommate was away for the week.

"where's my fucking phone?", he muttered to no one in particular, his voice came out raspy, and only then did he realize how dry his throat was . . he should really drink some water. . and eat something while he's at it, since he didn't bother eating the take-out he ordered last night.

Scaramouche lifted up his phone, the screen now cracked, the damage a reflection of his outburst from last night, he broke the screen protector a couple days ago too . . he tried turning on the wretched device, it was brand new and he did not look forward to fixing the damage.

'why isn't it fucking turning on?!?!' he wondered, about to throw it again, for good measure . . . Great, something else good he lost last night.

Scaramouche looked around the room again, his shoulders slumped, he couldn't find the locket Kazuha gave him, it disappeared into thin air, lost . . he felt like crying again, his eyes watering as the emotions that plagued him last night slowly rose up to the surface once more.

Yet all he could do, this time, was tiredly letting it take over, letting the world fade as he allowed himself to drown in the sea of his own consequences.

Kazuha is the one of the two or three people Scaramouche 'really' opened up too, and that resulted in Kazuha making a lot of excuses for Scaramouche's emotional outbursts.

Scaramouche would often let his insecurities take over, and question Kazuha, it wasn't something that was too bad in the beginning, but as Scaramouche got closer to Kazuha, and their relationship grew more long-term, it definitely got to an obsessive point.

Kazuha is aware that breaking up over the fucking text was really stupid, but he really didn't think he could handle doing it in person, he also knows he should've communicated more.

THIS ISN'T ABOUT HIM !! — After a rough breakup with your long-term partner and highschool sweetheart Diluc, you met Kazuha, you're current boyfriend. The two of you bonded over your past relationships and chose to heal together. However, things start going array as individuals from your past, come back to meddle with your newfound peace.

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter a/n: scaramouche pov lets go, hopefully the panic attack/melt down was written well enough for you to feel it.

taglist: @chemiru , @yuminako . @meigalaxy , @exhaustedcommunist , @moonjellyfishie

send an ask, or reply to this post to be added to the taglist!

@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

116 notes · View notes

gauloiseblue · 8 months ago

Text

réchauffer un serpent dans son sein

(König × Angel!Reader)

[TW: rape, non-con, obsession, desecration of a sacred body]

Inspired by this and this posts

There's a saying that woods aren't what they seem. Wander too far, and you might get lost. But if you listen to the rustles, and follow the low whispers between the trees, you might stumble upon an unearthly place. Where the time seems dilated, and the space distorted.

If you're just a small child, there's a chance that you'd never come back. The Fae loves little humans, and it's not a surprise when many of them were lost in the forest.

When he's just a young child, he often heard about the missing cases. Another day gone, another kid disappeared. It's so common back then, that every parent would keep their kids away from the forest. Including his.

But still, the wonder of it got the best of him.

One day, when his parents were a bit careless, he slipped from the back door, and walked into the forest.

In the mind of an adult, his action might seem unreasonable. But at that time, he could only think about the sanctuary. The hidden place for ethereal beings, that the kids in town often whispered about.

The track to the place was steep, and he struggled to get through it. But once he arrived at the creek, all of his fatigue strangely disappeared.

He followed the stream, dipping his feet into the cool water. He took a sip of it, and tasted the mineral so sweet, he hunched down to drink some more.

Upstreams, the brook widened into a pond, with high, flowering walls of waterfall.

The sight of it was nothing he'd ever seen, and would continue to haunt him for decades. His pupils were blown, as they took in the beauty of it. He slowly walked further, until he reached a boulder near the cascade. It was at this moment, he found the trace of divinity.

Upon the big rock, he spotted a golden flow. It's not until he pulled it, that he recognized the shape of it. What's on his hands was a weightless veil—a Celestial veil.

And he was right, because the moment he lifted his head, he saw a figure on the cliff.

She's a pure being, glowing softly with her hair flowing with the stream. She's sitting on the protruding stone on the wall, washing her hair before her feet. The flowering tree did little to cover her body, and his eyes burned, as if he's looking right at the sun. While it should've been obvious by then, the little him couldn't comprehend what he saw wasn't a human. She's never a human.

It took a minute for him to close his gaping mouth, and a little more for her to notice his presence. And when she did, gone was her smile. Since what came after was a terrified gaze that pierced his heart, as if she saw something vile, repulsive. Something that's him.

She came down from the waterfall, and landed softly as if she's unbound from gravity. He clutched the veil tighter, while she approached him like one would to a beast.

"You shouldn't be here." She whispered, "This is not a place for you."

"Are you a Fey?" He asked, eyes fluttered with innocence and curiosity.

She opened her mouth, before she decided against it.

"You should go home." She muttered, before extending her hand towards him, "I'll guide you back, but please, return the veil to me."

"Why?" He pushed on, "Why should I give it back? Do you not want to take me?"

"No, I'm not—" She bit her lip, "Please, I won't harm you."

"How do I know if I can trust you?"

"You can, because I'm not a Fae." She pleaded, "You should leave, before they see you."

"Then what are you?" He tilted his head, "An angel?"

She froze, eyes widened as if he's holding a knife to her chest. He wanted to reach her hand, to offer some kind of comfort, but a sudden wind blew from the forest. It was so strong, that his clothes fluttered against his body.

"They're here." She mused, her voice filled with dread.

He gasped when she pulled him by his hand, and goosebumps broke out all over his body. He shuddered at her touch, and his legs gave out. She staggered when he fell on his knees, before she bent down to pick him up. In the corner of his eye, he saw a strange shadow standing between the trees.

She tried to take the veil from him, but his grip on it was too tight. Caused by a combination of shock and bliss from receiving an Angel's touch.

"I'm sorry." She murmured, before she cupped his chin and pressed her lips against his. Right at that moment, he felt Heaven on the tip of his tongue. His eyes rolled back in head, and his body turned limp in her arms. If her touch weakened him, her kiss could paralyzed him.

In the midst of haze and rapture, he felt the veil slip from his hand, before the breeze turned into gusting winds.

He must've blacked out during the flight, because the moment he opened his eyes, he's already in the arms of his parents.

Their tears had wetted his clothes, and his mother raised his head to see him. He couldn't hear the whispers from people around them, but he caught some of the repeated words. 'Lucky', 'missing', '3 days'.

When he laid on his bed, he traced his fingers on the place she had touched. His arms, his cheek, his lips… The caresses of her fingers still lingered on his skin. He wanted to meet her, to be touched by her again. Alas, he's prohibited from going to the woods.

He was screaming, crying, begging for his parents to let him go. But they didn't yield, they wouldn't give in.

At night, he'd curl up under his cover, as quiet sobs escaped his lips. With his fingers dug into his skin, in a futile attempt to preserve her touch. Yet no matter how hard he clung to it, the heavenly mark would slip away from his hands.

It's not until a half year later, that he finally got the chance to leave home.

He could remember the route like it's the back of his hand; see the big tree, and follow the stream. And when he found the brook, he let out a sigh of relief.

Yet it was short-lived, since the river went on. He didn't see any sign of sanctuary, no flowering trees, no sweet smell in the wind. He bent down to taste the water, but quickly spit it out. It was awful, it wasn't as pristine as he had before.

He looked up, trying to find any sign of the heavenly garden, but there's none. There were only grey clouds, and yellowing leaves upon him.

Faintly, he could hear chuckles and amused whispers from the forest. He turned his head towards the woods, and saw the moving shadows behind the trees.

'... the boy comes back for her…'

'... how cute…'

'... he didn't know that…'

'... she left…'

Perhaps if he could stop for a moment, and listen to them, he could see that his search was hopeless. But he was stubborn. Even after he walked through the creek, and found no flowering waterfall in the upstream.

That night, he's found by the townsman near the river. His eyes were red, and his hands were dirty with soil. The villagers escorted him back to his home, where his parents waited and prayed. They rushed to hold him, asking why he left, where he'd been, but he stayed silent.

He was bedridden for the next several days, from drenched clothes and sorrow he had yesterday. He remembers the weight in his heart, and the seeming emptiness within his chest. Of course, a young boy like him hadn't understood the heartache, but even then, he knew the sole cause of it was the Angel.

He pulled the blanket to his chest, gripping tightly as he sobbed. Why wouldn't she take him? Why wouldn't she look at him?

The questions would linger in the back of his mind, because the moment he looked in the mirror, the image of her flashed before his eyes. Why wouldn't she look at him? Was he so hideous, that she's terrified upon seeing him? If so, why would she kiss him?

He tried to ask the questions to his parents, but what he received weren't answers. Instead, they told him it's just a dream, because Angels didn't exist. He tried to tell the other kids around him, but he quickly learnt that no one believed him. No one found his story plausible, rather, they called him a liar. As a result, that name stayed with him throughout his school years.

On one day in October, as he hid behind the tree in the school yard, he vowed to himself to never tell a soul about his Angel.

While he kept her existence from the others, he still tried to seek her in the forest. When he grew up into adulthood, his parents ceased to worry about his whereabouts. For a reason that he's rarely home. When he's 18, he went down the path of the army. Which granted him more freedom to continue his search.

Of course, he had considered giving up and turned to worldly pleasures. But nothing could compare to her kiss.

It's a wonder how a single encounter could lead to a lifetime obsession. All his efforts, all his knowledge about the forest's paths were the result of a single desire—to see the Angel again. Yet after miles of walking through the woods, exploring every inch of the forest's paths, he found none of her. Not a single trace of her and her existence. Whenever he went back, empty-handed, he couldn't help but feel helpless. As if he's still the little boy who cried by the river.

The emptiness he felt isolated him from his peers, because he knew no one would understand him. When he agreed to the missions that required him to fight in the forest for months, many of his comrades questioned his decision. When he refused the comfort of the night women, the other soldiers would look at him strange. When he's lost in his thoughts, with his eyes fixed on the flowing river, his colleagues would whisper behind his back. Indulged themselves with rumors and speculations.

For a decade, he kept himself at a distance from the others. Until one night, when the alcohol loosened his tongue, he told the story of his past to his fellow soldier. For the first time in his life, someone listened to him without a frown.

"I know someone who knows about these things." He told him, "But I don’t know if he's willing to talk."

He sat up straight as he leaned forward, "Tell me."

His friend hesitated for a moment, before he cleared his throat. "He lived on the outskirts of town, just a bit further in the woods. Sometimes he's in the town's market, selling furs and meats from his hunting." He then leaned closer to say something in low tone, "But there's a rumor that he's selling other things, if you ask the right question."

"What's the question?"

The man shrugged, "I never asked."

He sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. "Alright." He retorted quietly, "Where can I find him?"

The next day, he visited the address his friend gave.

It was a 20 minute drive from the city, and the trip was slowed down since his house was off the beaten path. When he arrived at the driveway, he noticed a man by the house, bringing the axe down as he splitted the log.

As he approached the man, he sensed a piercing gaze on his face.

"What do you want?" The man scoffed, as he made no effort to hide his hostility.

"Someone told me you knew about the creatures in the forest."

"Deer?" The man sneered, "I can sell their pelts for cheap."

"No." He looked him straight in the eye, "I want information about Angels."

The man went quiet for a moment, before he shook his head in a jeering manner. "Another stray from the asylum."

"I'll do anything in exchange for the information."

It seemed to pique him, as he put his mocking facade down.

"Are you from the church?"

"Military."

"Why does a man like you want to know about Angels?"

"It's for personal reasons."

He grinned at him, showing yellowing teeth behind his lips. "You saw one, didn't you?"

He stayed quiet, and the man shrugged.

"It's not my business anyway." He mused, "I don't mind giving you information about Angels—for free, but I'll give you something better if you help me." He smirked, "I'll tell you how to catch one."

—

He stands on the edge of the dark woods, peering into the thick forest, where his first mark once resided. There's a quiet wind that carries the words from the past into his ear.

'... the boy comes back for her…'

He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, savoring the smell of the forest.

"First, you have to disguise yourself." The man spoke while he packed up the hunting tools, "Those creatures have a sharp sense of smell, and human's scent is very distinct. So you have to wear their skin to mask your presence."

"What about deer skin?"

"It won't work." He said, "You have to take it from their kin. But there's one creature who has a strong smell, just like a human. It's so strong that it puts other creature's guard down."

"What is it?"

The man smirked, before a familiar name slipped out of his tongue.

A damp musk mixes in with the woody smell, and his grip on the prize tightens. The unearthly cloak feels heavy in his hand—a reminder of his hunt that's still fresh in his mind. The owner of the robe lays down at his feet, with its head far from where he stands.

An iridescent blood drips from his hand, and into the ground below. Painting the grass with luminous hues. He lets go of the iron machete, which falls with a loud thud. It's a wonder how a pure metal could kill the unassailable.

He had seen this creature many times in the forest. The first time was when the Angel touched him, and the rest when he searched for her. It took a form of moving shadows, and he only saw it in the corner of his eye.

"Believe it or not, Faeries were once considered as the guardians of the forest." He chuckled, "It's because the forest is their home, of course they'd be protective over it. They're very territorial after all."

"Is that why their scent can lower other's guard down?" He asked the man, while handing the fangs of the beast. "Because they smell familiar?"

"Correct." He responded, "But acquiring it isn't an easy business, because they're half-immortal. You see this scar? I almost lost my arm because of it."

"Did you kill it?"

The man sneered, "Who do you think I am?"

"Who do you think I am?" He mused, unconsciously repeated the words from his memory. He scoffs, as he realizes how far he has gone for a single obsession. Killing a forest God just to wear its skin, so he can catch the Angel off guard.

As he walks through the path, he drapes the heavy cloak on his shoulders. Putting the deer's skull mask on, before pulling down the dark veil to cover his face. There's no way of telling if the disguise works, since human's noses aren't as sensitive as theirs. But when he tastes the water, he knows he's on the right track.

"Angels rarely change places," The man claimed, "Once they found a good place to stay, they'd stay until they had no choice but to leave." He then added, "If you saw an Angel somewhere, then it's possible you'd see them again at the same place."

"Then why couldn't I find her?"

"Because they hide from humans." He answered, "You could see them when your heart was pure. Oftentimes, kids were the ones who could see them, because their hearts were still pure." He let out an amused snort when he saw the look on his face, "I can understand why she went into hiding. You don't hide your infatuation."

The brook is still the same as he remembers. With flowering walls and waterfalls. His heart beats so loud against his ribcage, that he's afraid the Angel would hear it.

He sucks in a breath, before marching deeper into the pond.

Behind the large boulder, he sees a blinding light reflecting from the water. His eyes narrowed at the sight before him, before a figure began to form at the heart of the lights.

An Angel.

"How do you subdue them?" He asked the man, "If you can't take their veil?"

"That's easy." He replied, "Drench them with blood." He laughed when he went silent. "I didn't mean their blood or any kind of blood, but the blood of the innocent." He rummaged through his cupboard, before he pulled a jar of crimson liquid. "It's a bait for vampires, but you can use it to suppress an Angel."

He furrowed his brows, "How does that work?"

"I'm not sure myself." He scratched his chin, "But there's a theory that Angels are the protector of the innocents, so having their blood on them means they fail their duty. And if they fail their duty, well, you can guess what'd happen to them."

He feels the heat begins to pool in his groin, as he clutches on the blood jar. She's so pure, so unassuming, and he'll be the one who defiles her.

With his strong hand, he hurls the container towards her. It shatters upon contact with the rock, just an inch away from her body. She didn't have the time to react—nor make sense of the situation, as the crimson blood rained on her.

He doesn't waste any time as he runs to her, catching her by her arm. She shouts at him as she struggles, but she's become as weak as a human. It doesn't take as much effort for him to drag her to the shore.

"Stop!" She screamed when he pinned her down by the neck, "This is heresy. You can't do this."

"Should've thought twice before you kissed me." He snarls when she begins to kick her legs around, "Your kiss is a mark, isn't it? You've marked me as yours from the start."

"It was for protection." She declared with a trembling voice, "You couldn't possibly fend yourself from Fey, I had to do it to protect you."

"Don't deny it." He growled, as his grip on her tightened. "You chose me."

She whimpers when his hand locks in around her delicate neck, and she tries to push him away by his wrist. "I didn't. I never chose you."

He goes quiet for a moment, staring at her struggling form. The splatter of blood has painted her body red, staining her radiant skin with mortal essence. A perfect picture of sacrilege.

"I want to be good for you," He spoke as he shrugged the cloak off him, "But you leave me with no choice."

Her eyes widen in terror as she watches his hand descend to her stomach, before it travels down to her thigh. "No. No! Stop!" She cried out when he pried her legs open, before lodging his hips in.

"I heard an Angel can't feel pain," He sneered as he slipped his pants down, "Shall we put it to the test?"

Her scream falls to deaf ears as he rubs his cock against her tender hole, giving himself a few strokes, before pushing his member in.

"The most common method to catch an Angel is to steal their veil—or what we often call as their 'wings'." The man lifts his finger before he could interject, "But, they can always leave once they find their wings back. So it's not a reliable method."

"Then how do you keep them from running away?" He frowned.

"There are a few ways to do it, but it all boils down to the same thing." He took a drag of his cigarette, before puffing the smoke out of his mouth. "Make them commit a sin."

He throws his head to the back, eyes roll up as he lets out a loud groan. Her hole is tighter than normal humans, but the friction of her walls sends him into a delirium state. He almost slips into blackness, if not for the flailing legs against his shoulders.

"Scheiße." He hissed as he thrust himself into her, "You feel like Heaven."

She lets out a broken sob, as her face contorted with pain. "Please—" She begged, "You're hurting me."

"Am I?" He drank the sight of her, before he slipped his hand between her folds, "I'll make you feel good."

There's a bump right above her stretched hole, and the protruding lump feels like a little pearl on his thumb. And when he strokes it, it begins to throb against his fingertip.

"Once they're close to falling, their halo will be visible to human's eye. When that happens, you should pull it off their head."

A flash of light goes off in front of him, and he shuts his eyes from the bright blaze. It flares for a few seconds, before a ring of light materializes above her crown.

He stares at it with fascination and awe, and his grip begins to loosen up from her neck.

She gasps when he touches her halo, before his fingers wrap around the ring.

There's a hard resistance when he tugs on the halo, as if it's bound to a strong magnet. Her hands shoot up to grab his wrist, clutching onto him with a painful grimace on her face.

A doubt crosses his mind when the divine ring wouldn't come off of her, no matter how hard he pulls it. But with every slam of his hips, her halo begins to budge slightly.

"Because once they lose their halo,"

He presses his lips against her ear—whispering filthy things, while he rubs her clit mercilessly.

"Give in." He growled into her ear, "Give in to sin."

"N-no—"

"You have no choice." He retorted, as he pounded his cock into her harder, "Give in to me."

"They can't go back to Heaven."

She screams, as her halo starts to bend.

"No, no, no—! Stop this madness! Please—"

"It's too late." His lips curled into a cruel smile, "You're not going back."

Her walls begin to pulsate, and he feels a cold rapture creep up along his spine. He groans as she squeezes around him, sucking his cock deeper into her. Tears start to wet her cheeks, and he bends down to catch them with his tongue.

A wretched cry echoes through the forest, as the halo slips away from its anchor. He loses his balance, as it crumbles into dust the moment it leaves her crown, while the rest of it flies away with the wind.

Her body trembles from both shock and worldly pleasure, and a sharp moan leaves his mouth when her walls clamp onto his cock. Shoving him into a state of bliss, as he fills her up with his seeds. The foreign sense of fullness causes her body to curl up, and she covers her face as she begins to sob.

He doesn't let her mourn, since her loss is a blessing for him. He laps her cheek, tasting the saccharine drops that escape her eye. Even when her glow has fading, she still feels as heavenly as before.

"At last," He grinned, as he felt his cock throbbed at the thoughts of the future. "You're finally mine."

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #konig x reader #könig cod #konig mw2 #yea. i have a corruption kink. what about it

113 notes · View notes

2demondogs · 2 months ago

Note

May i request a Kieran x Reader where they just go on a cute picnic date with Branwhen just grazing the grass in the distance. Maybe somewhere pretty like the fields of little creek river. (Let's ignore the humongous O'driscoll hide out in the middle of it for kierans sake🥲)

This is CUTE you guys serve when u serve me the fluff prompts! Also I want to eat this fucking game's graphics. Imagine a Walmart on this river <3.

Girls, theys, and he/hims heart Kieran's autism swag.

Words: 1.4k Tags: Gender-neutral reader, romantic fluff, established relationship, my usual autistic Kieran

The gray hairs spotting Kieran's face and temples look as white as Branwen's in the afternoon sun hanging over Big Valley. He'd taken his hat off, and the splotchy suntan lain over his pale skin is already turning bright with fresh burns, the freckles faded in the wake of soon to form ones.

Always cold, that man; though he had insisted that this rock was simply the perfect place for a picnic and, since half of it was burning up under the shine, he would let you have the shade. He is a gentleman, of course.

It's mostly sunburn on his cheeks. Kieran never does get both his feet beneath him until its almost time for you two to part ways, and any progress he made towards it today was lost when you moved to sit side-by-side with him, insisting the shade got you chilled. The sun has been hot on your back since, warming you to the bone.

He only let your horses loose to roam an hour ago, and he'd made two trips to his saddlebag for a smoke before bringing the entire carton with him. Pleased, are you, to notice that he always sits right back where he was, knee knocking yours and shoulders a polite inch apart.

The chestnut on Branwen's paint-spatter coat looks almost as warm orange as the carton's printing beneath the sun, now, laying opened and near empty in front of you on the rocky ground of a boulder overlooking Little Creek River. Glittering, the water runs clearer after the rain storms that came last week and washed it fresh. If you asked, Kieran would probably know where it leads out to; the knowledge escapes you, now.

Tobacco shreds have fallen out of half-smoked cigarettes tucked back inside, marring the foil wrapper with smudges of black ash that mark Kieran's fingers as he takes another. Down a short slope, the sound of running water nearly drowns the scratch of the match against the rough pad on the box when he lights it.

He offers it to you, first, with that searching expression as if you might slap his hand away entirely— but he's already offered you three others, so you shake your head. Smoking or eating, both seem to calm Kieran's nerves, and your meals were gone quickly. Only two small pound cakes lay wrapped in cloth atop your own satchel, which serves as makeshift table for whatever needn't touch the ground.

You don't think you've ever heard him talk this much, either. His voice is thick and crackly with smoke, louder as he goes on until he must be confident that you like the conversation and his volume breaks even over the rocks. You aren't sure how long you've been sitting and listening, nor when, exactly, it drifted into sitting and staring at the man beside you. Peppered beard, the lines on his face, how his nose bridge twists downwards and how sparse his brows are, the dark brown of his hair bleached away by the sun.

Maybe he has good reason to get timid when you're alone. If you look anywhere near as lovesick as you feel, you would shy away from it, too.

Kieran talks about nothing in particular, when he gets going like this: what he remembered from childhood, his first horse and that he can't remember his first dog though he knows there was one and it was one of them big ones; where he grew up, stories his mother and father had told him before the cholera took them; living on the streets before his time in the—

"Wait," you interrupt him, straightening up some. "You were in the army?"

Kieran pauses mid-sentence, seeming to forget his story in the treeline far ahead of you. The foggy, anxious look which had fallen over his eyes clears when they fix on you again.

"Yeah," he says, as if it is no big story. It's regular enough, sure, though most of the men in camp never served, but it wasn't something you'd expected from him. "Food and a place to live. Why not?"

Well, that's one way to put it, you think, and you find yourself endeared by how little water these things hold to him.

"How long?" You ask.

He opens his mouth to answer, before his brain catches up to his body and he sinks into himself. "Two weeks," Kieran sighs. "Didn't even fight," — scratching the back of his neck, nodding to where his legs are crossed in front of him as if to demonstrate — "They said I got... neurasthenia, or somethin', 'n' I's too scrawny. Weren't putting on weight good enough." His eye twitches some. "Couldn't read, neither. Hard time writin', too..."

If you let him go on, he'll find a million reasons for why he still can't serve in the military or perhaps even detail his thoughts on the fitness of everyone in camp, and so you interject: "Fuck the army."

Kieran barks a laugh. "Got a mouth on you, don't you?"

And then he's back to talking about nothing in particular, letting one thought trail into another. It's interesting, how fast his mind runs and the off-shooting roads it takes. If you remember correctly, he began divulging the more precise details of his life to you simply because you asked if he had a favorite brand of smokes and he said yes, Pa smoked these, they smell like home.

To you, they've always smelled bitter. Some of the chocolate-y underlayers of the tobacco flavoring grow stronger each pack he breaks open.

Even beyond how pleasing his voice is to you, the familiar pauses and breathy quality when he's talked too long, is the far away look in his eyes, as if he's reliving everything he speaks of. This quality has made him weary and vulnerable, sure; but he seems to like the memories he's sharing now, and you know that in this life it's these things which are more precious than pain.

Kieran will tell anyone how the O'Driscolls treated him, or what happened before he rode with them. When men don't have much love laying around, it takes trust to share it.

Another turn comes about.

"Pa was a mil't'ry man, too," Kieran says. Too, like he's fought as many battles, God, I love him, you think. "'Fore he died, he always said we'd move away, out to California. Find some gold or start a farm, he liked the idea of a farm more, he said," — a pause, a fond little smile as he turns to you and looks past your shoulder — "Said that way we'd have a herd o' horses, so I'd have somethin' to like about it." He rubs his chin, remembers the hair there, looks away again. "Jesus, I oughtta been eight or so."

You smooth your shirt, pull your knees to your chest in a loose hold. "Maybe we'll have a farm out west someday," you say, not really thinking. "Or some kinda horse ranch, where we make money boardin' 'em for folks. All kinds of rich folk who pay for that."

Kieran looks at you with a lopsided grin. "D'you mean that?"

And he looks so hopeful, so very glad that you'd ever suggest you wanted a life together. An ache starts in your chest, tight and hard to swallow. Being part of his stories that he runs off when the quiet is too loud— it's not a bad idea at all.

You nod. "Once we're too old 'n' frail for this life," you say, bite back a smile as you reach to move the back of your hand down his chest. "Or maybe just once I'm too frail, Mister Two Weeks."

Kieran flushes. "Hey, now," he says, but he catches your hand in his before you can pull it back, presses his lips to the knuckles. His beard and mustache are scratchy, lips chapped.

You grin. "S'rry. That was mean, wasn't it?"

"You aren't sorry," he accuses, mirrors your smile.

"Naw," you insist, twist to tuck his hair behind his ear with the hand not rested in his. The fingers never leaving his face, resting under his chin. "You're my big, strong, handsome man. Ain't that right?"

He huffs a laugh, half-humored and half-flustered. "Dunno 'bout two o' those," he says.

You scratch his jaw fondly. "And so smart," you continue, pretending to not hear his objections.

Kieran is caught between basking under the playful, but always meant, praise and shying away from it. "Stop," he drawls, laced with a laugh.

"And oh so sweet."

"Quit," he repeats, but there's a chuckle breaking through his voice and he's tugging at your hand, pulling you closer. Well, you've got to lean closer so you do, and he kisses you on the mouth, as awkward as always, as if he forgets how exactly it works until it's happening once again.

#kieran duffy x reader #kieran duffy #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #ask #oneshot #sfw #fluff #neutralreader #gender neutral reader #picnic #rdr2

46 notes · View notes