#what if i trapped them all on a boat for months

[kosimon]

just had a thought...cod sailor au? was thinking of captains going down with their ships and was like "that's so Price" and now i'm thinking of the lads in commercial fishing. vessel named "Bravo". everyone being stuck together on the ship for months, slowly being forced to know each other. Soap being a competitive fisher previously and wanted to make it his livelihood. Gaz the right-hand, apprenticing under Price and making a name for himself as one of the most skilled fishers in the game. Ghost who used to be stuck in the shark poaching business and couldn't do it anymore, now floating crew to crew over the years. Price, one of the most lucrative fishing legends in his region, always hauling in nearly more than his precious Bravo can hold. Price's co-captain Nik who clings to the wheel with a maniacal grin in the toughest of storms, always coming out the other end. the Bravo crew finally getting off the ship and knowing theyll never sail with anyone else. am i losing it

[xazse]

mr compress x kittygirl hybrid! reader and i will worship the ground you walk 😣😣🙏🙏🙏

SWEET GIRL

Synopsis: Mr.Compress feels a certain inkling and intensity within himself.

Notes: this is great I know you just submitted this really recent but I wanted to let some of my fans know that I will now write for MHA!!! SEND ME SOME STUFF (don’t worry to my others who have sent jjk requests I’m working on them<333)) (sorry I just had to do something with the league and them meeting kitty girl)

Pairings: Mr.Compress x KittyGirl!Hybrid

Warnings: Smut + mean!League Members + rough handling + rough kissing + fingering + penetration + Fem!reader + Hybrid!reader

Mr.Compress had dragged in another stray: you he had known for at least a month before introducing you to the league. He found you digging through some rubble searching for food. He had felt extremely bad and just felt the need to take you.

So that’s what he did, he took you and you didn’t fight at all he just went, scooped you up. You looked a tad bit confused but when he gave you some food you were attached, he gave you plenty of opportunities to leave but every time you’d look around for him and once you found him you’d loop your arms with his and follow. It was downright adorable.

After some time had passed he chose to introduce you to his beloved league.

“She looks stupid, get her out.”

“That’s so mean Tomura! I think she looks adoreable!”

“You are very right Toga, Shigaraki isn’t used to cutesy things.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The blue haired man exclaimed from the bar.

“Why not give er’ a change Shigaraki? She could prove to be useful.” Spinner is always trying to be the middle man, Mr.Compress can certainly rely on him to get you in good with everyone.

“Useful my ass.” Dabi’s the one who speaks up.

“It wouldn’t be wise for you to talk, you’re in the same boat as her.” Shigaraki backfires.

“Tried to help you, dick.”

It hadn’t even been 40 minutes sitting as the league chats and discusses various things, Toga and Twice won’t leave you alone they insist on playing with your tail and rubbing your pointy ears: pushing them back just to watch them pop right back in place.

You aren’t complaining one bit, you love the extra attention they’re giving you, you can’t quite make out what they’re saying but nonetheless you know it’s nothing but sweet words minus twice sometimes blurting random crude things.

Leaving them proves to be the worst, “tears” are exchanged when Mr. Compress is ready to depart and you have to leave the new friends you just made. He reassures you that you’ll be able to see everyone again very soon.

Mr compress loves you a tenth fold you’re impressed by his tricks others find to be unfunny but you will sit for hours and watch him show off, clapping with the biggest smile on your cute face. It drives him mad to have his own personal fan.

It makes his cock throb when he’s doing one of his tricks and you look so curious to find out what’s next, he can’t focus on finishing it when you’re swooning right in front of him, he basically attacks you with sloppy kisses.

His thick tongue invades your mouth, his actions aren’t careful, he needs to be inside you right now.

He sits on his hind legs and traps you with his thighs on either side. He takes his hard cock out and jerks himself a few times right over your exposed stomach. you’ve all of a sudden gone shy on him, trying to avoid the intense way he’s staring down at you.

He stops for a moment to rid you of your bra, then your panties whilst also undressing himself fully too.

Even after all this time you’re still hiding your body from him like he hasn’t explored every single inch of you. He pays that no mind and moves to rub your cunt, he makes sure not to directly touch your clit.

He moves his skillful fingers around your lips, dipping in and out of your hole to get you used to the feeling. Sweet moans slip from your throat, your breath hitches everytime he so much as grazes the englared bud.

Impatient Compress starts full on fucking you with his fingers, he has to use a little of his strength to keep your leg nice and still for him. You’re full on moaning, it feels so damn good, the way his fingers abuse your wet hole in the meanest motions he can muster.

He makes eye contact with you when he pulls his fingers out and licks them, making sure to clean them dry.

He’s got you plenty wet, he rubs the tip of his cock in between your lips even touching your sensitive clit, he hadn’t even made you cum and you’re already so jumpy.

His thick cock starts to push inside you, slowly filling you of him, taking him is no walk in the park, he’s more long than anything, you grip whatever you can as he pushes past your tight hole.

Atsuhiro lets you adjust to him, he can hear slight sniffling from you, poor thing, he’ll make you happy in just a moment: that moment being now, he pushes your legs a little towards your torso angling his cock more snuggly.

Atushiro is never one to rush sex with you, he likes to be in the moment so he can enjoy and really feel you but now he can’t wait, he starts thrusting fast and deep, your fat cunt accepting every inch so easily now.

He’s been obsessed with your pussy the first day you and him had sex, you’re so tight and warm, he draws his hips back all the way letting his cock fall out to admire the slick it’s covered in, just to slam right back into you.

“Nnng..”

“Feels… so good Sako..” your moans sound so choked up in your throat, making you all the more desperate for more clearly.

His face is a beautiful shade of pink, groans mixed with yours slipping from his bitten lips, you truly don’t know the effects your cunt has on him, everytime he pulls back you suck him right back in.

Your tail has a mind of its own when it wraps around his torso, moving along with the rhythm of his hips.

You wipe the tears that have found their way to your face, your body spasms in that familiar way, along with your pussy tightening even more around him. He holds you down by your tummy, securing you in place so you don’t thrash everywhere.

He slams down in you one last time, pushing you right over the edge you cum with a loud yelp followed by quiet whines that die down, through this whole thing he’s praising you, kissing your soddened cheeks.

Your chest rapidly tries to calm down, feeling the aftershocks of a nasty orgasm.

Later that night he makes sure to rub your pointy ears and cuddle you as close as possible.

[yume127]

I find it interesting how Roxas is often described as the “angry one” or “short-tempered one” when compared to Sora or Ventus, mostly because I always felt Sora and Ven have a shorter fuse than Roxas.

The association between Roxas and anger is understandable, because many of Roxas’ most poignant moments in the series happen when he is very (and understandably) angry, but I also feel like it’s a disservice to his character to only reduce him to his anger, especially when it’s far from who he is in normal circumstances.

For example, during Days, many Organization members treat him poorly and insult him to his face and, for the most part, Roxas doesn’t react at all. In Halloween Town, Lock, Shock, and Barrel throw bombs in his face multiple times before Roxas finally snaps at them. He senses that many people around him are keeping things from him, but it takes him months before he confronts someone about it. That’s far from someone I’d consider short-tempered or easy to anger.

The only situation I can think of when we see him get upset quickly is if anyone does or says something bad to Xion and, even then, the most of his reaction is verbally snapping at Saix to make him stop disrespecting her. In Axel’s case (when Roxas is upset with him for attacking Xion), Roxas doesn’t confront him at all, he just avoids him altogether. Also, I think it’s important to note that every moment in which Roxas is very angry happens when his entire life is falling apart, which is a situation in which, I believe, everyone would be upset.

Roxas seems the kind of person who bottles everything up without much reaction until it becomes too much and he explodes, and that’s when he has a hard time controlling his anger/emotions. Having spent most of his life in the organization probably plays a part in it as, every time he brings up any emotion, his feelings are invalidated and suppressed. That’s not an environment that gave him the tools to process strong emotions in a healthy way.

Let’s compare that to Ventus. Ven is the definition of short-tempered in BBS. He’s ready to throw hands with Vanitas the moment he says something remotely bad about Terra, which was minutes after he met him for the first time. He fought the dwarves without a second thought just because they refused to talk with him. His first reaction when he becomes small and is trapped in a mousetrap is to shout. These are just some examples from the top of my head, but it’s clear Ven has a shorter fuse than Roxas.

Ventus usually expresses how he feels in any given situation and has a short fuse. On the flip side, he doesn’t seem to hold on to these feelings at all. He externalises them the moment he feels them, but then he lets it go and it doesn’t bother him anymore. Out of the three of them, Ventus seems the most open about his emotions and, from what I remember, when he opens up about feeling a certain way with his friends, his feelings are usually not invalidated nor brushed aside. In UX, Ventus seems calmer and doesn’t have much anger in him, but he’s still open to expressing his feelings of low self-worth and sadness with the other union leaders.

Sora, I think he falls in the middle? He seems to have a shorter temper compared to Roxas, which was especially clear in KH2, where he snaps at the Organization multiple times, but he also bottles up his emotions more than Ven, especially around his friends. This happens mostly with his sadness, which he always tries to hide or brush aside, but in KH3 we can also see, for example, how much he’s bothered by everyone constantly bringing up him not passing the Mark of Mastery, even if he tries not to show it.

I think Sora feels like he should always be happy for his friends’ sake, and even during the rare moments when he tries to express his sadness, his feelings are not truly welcomed (“No frowning. No sad faces. This boat runs on happy faces”), so he just tries to brush it off as a joke. He’s loud in expressing any kind of positive emotion, and he openly expresses his anger against his enemies (and to his friends too, sometimes), but he also doesn’t hold on to that anger and is pretty forgiving. However, he usually bottles up his sadness, low self-esteem and other negative feelings, and then explodes when he can’t hold it together any longer (like it happened at the Keyblade Graveyard when he thought all his friends were gone forever).

[justpottytime]

Omovember approaches!

Every omo fan's favourite month is heading this way very soon - and while the official list has yet to be made, my dearest friend @littleleaks172257 (also known as @stopreportingme1722 because shadowban) and I decided to put together our own bonus list with some help from our friends in the piss Discord! You may have seen the straw poll going around a little while back? Well, these are the results:

"I have to go potty."

Put in a Diaper

In the Middle of the Night / Waking up Desperate

Training Potty

Nature Tinkle

Wetting/Peeing in a Closet

In the Sand

Missed rest stop

"Do you still need us to stop?"

In the Water

Elevator Omo

Too much Coffee

During a Walk

Overalls

On an Amusement Park Ride

While Reading a Book

"I told you not to wait that long."

On a Boat

XXL Size Cup

"No, don't ruin your new clothes!" / "No, I can't ruin my new clothes!"

"I know, but we're kinda stuck"

Trapped with a stranger

Top Bunk

"Stop using weird phrases and just tell me what's wrong!"

Omorashi Writer getting Inspiration

"I'm not peeing here, I'm not an animal!"

Stuck on a Puzzle

Toilets with Threatening Auras

Non-Human Omo

Working Customer Service

Alt prompts for switching out if any of these don't take your fancy:

Watermelons

Spilled Container / Spilled Over

Disgusting Toilets

Visually Impaired

Messy Hands

Do a few, do them all, do a mix of this list and the upcoming official list, do none and just appreciate others' work, it's all good! Also, if anyone is wondering why the first few prompts appear to be more ageplay-oriented... I may have forgotten that I have a big ABDL following and accidentally skewed the results by reblogging the poll a ton of times. Oops! Lesson learned for next year, I guess - but hey, us ageplayers are just as big a part of the community as everyone else! Anyway, I hope you guys have fun and be kind to each other, and please tag me in anything you make for the list, I'd absolutely love to see it! <3

[z3rinn]

# #. KINGDOM CALLING !!

Being a Keyblade Wielder you thought you'd have seen everything by now. But you never expected to end up in a world where the villains you defeated were worshipped.

more twst x kh content because i’ve been hyper fixated on it for the past few months T_T speaking of, the reason I've been gone for so long is because I’ve now got a fic in the makings- using this exact concept! it’s posted on my wattpad and quotev, but I’m also debating if I should put it on this site… it’s quite long though! lmk if you guys think I should :]

Twisted Wonderland was weird.

You thought you’d have seen everything by now. Being a Keyblade Wielder, your job was to travel across worlds, defeating the darkness and hate spread by those willing to conquer.

You’d experienced stories and magic you could barely comprehend, standing on the sidelines as you watched fairytales play right before your eyes.

Creatures and supernaturals were considered friends, being far different from the monsters you imagined them to be. Even talking animals were a common thing now, having traveled with Donald Duck and Goofy for a better part of three years now.

You never thought you'd miss them.

Your life back on Destiny Islands was simple. Back there, you had a home; with small rowing boats and hammocks on the tiny island a quick swim away. You had proper food, with star shaped fruits said to bind your soul with your loved ones. Most importantly- you had your best friends; Sora, Riku, and Kairi— all eccentric yet lovable characters that held your heart. You would do anything for them.

The island was a sanctuary, a place for comfort and familiarity. If you had known what you did now, you would've trapped yourself there, basking in the warm sand and cool water brushing across your body. But then, being young and immature, you just wanted to leave.

Three years have passed since then. Years full of mystery and surprise.

You had undergone many things on your journey; battling against Heartless and monsters. Falling down rabbit holes and encountering princesses every which way you turned. Meeting leaders of all kinds of worlds, binding your hearts to create everlasting friendships. You had even sided with villians, willing to set aside your differences to accomplish your goals.

It was odd… working with Maleficent.

At one point you even had your heart stolen. Ripped away from you to create a husk. And that was just the surface.

You thought you had seen everything by now....

But Twisted Wonderland was weird.

Everything happened so suddenly; kicking open an overly fancy coffin ( far different from the ones Jack Skellington used ) only to be met by a creature that looked oddly like Stitch. But before you could ask anything, he gave chase, demanding you give him your robes— how did you even get these on?

Panic stricken, you ran. Running across classrooms, hallways, and courtyards- all while trying to get away from the cat.

Questions and concerns began to gush through your mind. How could you have gotten here? Where was everyone?

And where were you?

The next thing you knew, you were in a regal library, cornered by the monster. Floating books and dancing lanterns surrounded you, all approaching with intrigue. They all seemed to be observing you, like they were anticiping something.

Blue fire brushed across your skin, the flames flickering against your robes. You realized they were waiting for a spell, like they knew you would cast it before the thought could even pop into your mind.

Just as you raised your hand, getting ready to summon your Keyblade, a whip wrapped around the cat.

Both of you jumped, eyes darting to the double doors, finding a crow-looking man standing there. He looked oddly disappointed. Your eyes immediately narrowed, hands tensing.

Just looking at him made you feel on edge.

He was radiating darkness.

His golden eyes seemed to be staring right into your soul, gazing deep and pulling you apart from the seams. They pierced through your own. Entrancing. Like they were studying and discerning your moves. You didn't like them.

They looked like a villians.

You were wary of the man, raising a brow when he introduced himself. Crowley was his name; Descendant of a Hero. An odd name for someone whose heart seemed so full of darkness. He led you to a chamber room, surrounded by floating coffins and magic. Dark energy overfilled the room, whispers and cackles echoing from robed figures as they eyed your form.

You thought back to Organization XIII.

You didn't like robes all that much anymore.

They were traumatizing.

Crowley huffed, pushing you in front of— the magic mirror? Was that the one The Evil Queen used?

The mask in the mirror spoke, blank eyes narrowing at you as if you'd attack it at any second. Of course, it had every right to be afraid. Your friend literally threw a giant key at it once. Hopefully it could get passed that though, and you could ask it how you got here?

It bullshitted something about you not having a soul, ( you had a strange inkling it was being petty but whatever ) but before it could finish, the cat broke free.

He yelled, claiming he was strong enough to be at this school, and that he deserved your spot. You tilted your head at his outburst. Was that all he wanted? You gladly would've given your spot to him. You weren’t meant to be in this world in the first place. Hopefully you’d be out of here soon.

You had Heartless to go fight.

You had to go find Sora.

A quick mishap occurred, with Grim ( you remembered his name ) setting the room on fire. Apparently he was trying to show off his magic; an odd way to do so but you digress. A red haired boy chased after him, along with a boy with glasses.

Their magic was strange, coming out of a jeweled pen of all things.

Wind magic was casted, similar to your own Aero spells. Water attacks were aimed at it, easily dousing the blue flames. It was honestly amazing, watching so much magic come out of a tiny pen.

The redhead stopped in front of the cat, pointing his pen at him with narrowed eyes. Your own widened as he shouted a curse.

Off with your head.

That sounded awfully familiar.

…

Crowley was going to kick you out.

The magic mirror- or rather the dark mirror- explained that you didn't have a home to go to. You guessed it was because Destiny Islands was a whole other world, and simple mirror travel wouldn't be able to reach that far.

No matter, you could simply contact Donald or Riku on your Gummi phone and go home.

But of course, the first time a phone specifically made to communicate between worlds doesn't work is when you need it most.

So you did the only thing you could.

And showed him your Keyblade.

He muttered something to himself, widened eyes never leaving the blade in your hand. His feathers ruffled in surprise and intrigue, the slight curl of them being… strange. 

It was as if they were smiling.

Your eyes flickered to his own- noticing his scary… intense gaze.

You didn’t dare break contact, being far too focused on those piercings eyes. 

Those haunting, golden eyes. 

Eyes that looked just like Xehanorts.

The Headmage led you to a rundown cabin, home to a variety of ghosts and cobwebs. The building reminded you of the ones in Halloween Town; rundown with mischievous creatures inhabiting the spaces. These ghosts just looked like marshmallows.

You let out a low sigh, allowing yourself to fall on the dusted couch in the lounge. Debris flew up under your weight, flying into the air before dissapting. Your gaze was focused on the ceiling above, dazed as rain droplets fell to your cheeks and the wooden floors below.

The building was silent, aside from the rain. Wind blew against cobwebs, flying past your face and sticking to the rotting wood. Splinters and jagged pieces spiked up, parts of the walls ripped apart from age and student endeavors.

It was lonely here.

You didn't have anyone in this world.

Not even Jiminy fucking Cricket.

You hadn’t been alone in a long time.

The door creaked open, "Myah- it's really pouring out there!"

...

Twisted Wonderland.

That's what this place was called.

A world very befitting for its name.

Everything about this world was off— or at least— Night Raven College was.

Students seemed to love and adore the beings you had tried so desperately to keep away. They had dorms dedicated to them, embracing their darkness and allowing themselves to fall under its curse. Darkness that you had to get rid of.

Of course, they didn't actually know about the dangers you faced, finding these villians to be great and kind. They didn't know of the death and tragedy caused- the mistakes you had to fix.

It was strange though. Worlds weren't supposed to know of one another, otherwise chaos could ensue.

So why was Twisted Wonderland a combination of them all?

You suppose that's how this place got its name.

Everything in this world was twisted. Villians were considered heroic; great and all mighty beings that you and Sora definitely didn't beat.

While in the botanical gardens you sometimes laugh, imagining Leona's face if you told him you helped kill Scar. He gives you weird looks, telling you to shut up and go back to sleep. You try. It doesn’t work.

It wasn't until the Riddle incident did you realize why you were sent to this world. Darkness and hatred had been accumulating in the corners of this realm, seeping into the depths of people's hearts.

It was at times like this that made you miss Sora.

You turned over on your bed, eyes focused on the ceiling above. Moonlight seeped in through the wooden cracks, bits of the glowing celestial body peeking in. It was almost speaking to you, luring you towards it with the promise of comfort.

Kingdom Hearts.

Your eyes shut, turning away from the beckoning moon.

Well whatever. You had another long day ahead of you.

…

Thoughts? This was just a quick wip that I made in like an hour lolll. I’m thinking of doing another part tho, where we dive into character interactions and such. Rlly wanna write for Silver and a KH! MC!

[lionheartedmusings]

bear with me bc this is gonna be a bit of a long one, but i've seen folks talking about how they're excited to get the horrors back on the qsmp and while i totally agree that i miss those blood-curdling, creepy, uncanny valley sort of scenes... i think the beauty of the overall storyline (as much as it's execution can be criticised ) is that we as the audience are seeing things in a vacuum.

the qsmp storyline is a living breathing player alongside our povs, and while we're aware of that, we're also not always engaging with it. we're getting swept up in the day-to-day of it all and getting lulled into a sense of security that ultimately makes us unable to truly comprehend the horror of the last few months until we take a step back and analyze it bit by bit.

children went missing in the night, leaving only their identifiers behind on empty beds. there were no leads. people looked and looked, and found nothing. parents were mad with concern and grief, and the all-seeing, all-powerful entity that rules their lives trapped in this hamster wheel of an island has no answers.

then, the items left behind on those beds vanish too.

then, there's mind-controlling, happiness inducing drugs being pumped into people against their will. still no news of the children. people are falling apart at the seams.

people are led to a maze where a wheel is spun and everything they have left of the children of this godforsaken island is gone. burned up. what does it mean? no one knows. they have to live on.

suddenly, a game is played. a clone of a dead child shows up, leading some of them into the same maze, forcing them to walk through a maze of doors and corridors, only to find a game of dice orchestrated by an unknown entity.

new people arrive, bearing witness to the hopeless, grim, sad reality of everyone who was already there. there's hope — there's always hope — but my god the pain is overwhelming.

there's clues, but there's not. the government keeping them trapped here against their will still has no answers, nothing to point them in the right direction.

faceless bears go missing.

faceless bodies show up on the streets. bloodied. dead. eaten.

suddenly, there's thunder and lightning and oh! oh, their children! of course they'll get on the train, that's where the children are!

but they're hijacked. stolen. once again, their autonomy is stripped entirely as another entity with power they cannot comprehend forces them to split into factions and compete for... something. their children's lives are on the line and they maim and kill those they call family because they fear they have no choice.

everyone went through hell — purgatory was a bad title for what they went through. it was hell, with no salvation in sight.

when all is said and done, when all the murder and backstabbing is over, they see their children through glass they cannot break. one escapes because chance said so, and the rest are left behind as the ceiling collapses on them.

the world is ending and their salvation is one singular boat a thousand blocks away. lovers can't say goodbye, friends run for their lives together, a father and a son dash desperately with no hope in sight. some stay behind, through choice or chance.

the government official that has made their life hell returns the children to them, and brings some new ones. those new children get carted off to new parents without option (again) and suddenly everything's supposed to be fine! nevermind your friends are gone! nothing to see here!

behind the scenes, the all-seeing all-knowing government is breaking apart, there's something far more horrifying and twisted at play in the background... but it's nothing the islanders can help with. nothing they can do. they have to live on and pretend their golden cage is fine and dandy bc at the end of the day, it's their only option.

one-eyed creatures show up demanding something "of theirs" back and bc humanity is strong, one islander refuses to hand someone kind and innocent off to them.

it dooms them, as their humanity has every single time.

now, they're under attack and they can barely defend themselves despite months of prep and having amazing gear — again, they try their hardest but everything is stacked against them. they fight, and fight, but their children are on the line and that's their main concern.

every fight? there's bodies littering the ground and panicked screams. explosions. chainsaws revving, and worry, and it's a war ten times a week.

a child loses a life, and now it's personal, but what can they do? no one listens to them, no one has ever listened to them.

and in the middle of all of this? their family is still gone, trapped in a wasteland, or missing, or... dead.

there was no funeral for q!maxo bc there's no stopping to smell the roses on quesadilla island, not really. where's slime? where's pol? where's the people who they haven't seen yet? gone, yes, but they don't have time to stop and worry about them. they don't have time to mourn losses and grieve their dead.

luffy, who came to try and help their friends, was stolen and hurt.

those eyeball workers? they were people once, maybe good people. maybe the best people we never got to meet, but they got shifted and changed into something monstrous and out of their control.

my point being: the story that the qsmp is telling is innately horrifying. it's not just creepy — it's twisted, and tragic, and absolutely terrifying. it's about loss of agency and running on an endless hamster wheel of someone else's making, and how you just sort of... live with it after a while.

and i think that's really fucking cool, because like these characters we too get used to the tragedy of life, little by little, and forget to see the whole thing from a bird's eye view (pun intended).

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I think what’s frustrating for me in ootp (which is still 100% my favorite book despite this) is how everyone treats Harry like his anger is childish/unreasonable. Like guys he watched a classmate get murdered last year (among other traumatic things). And then he was isolated a from everyone he cares about and forced to live with people who treat him worse than dirt. The fact Hermione is kind of scared of him when he thinks Sirius is being tortured in the DOM? Idk, it just never sat right with me. Ppl treat Harry like a loose canon or an angsty kid and it minimizes the real trauma he endured

I get what you're saying, but I think the way people treat him and his anger is very much in line with what we see from the Wizarding World. The Wizarding World doesn't really understand trauma or mental health as a whole. They have no concept of therapy of psychiatric care of any kind. The only mind treatment they have is to do with healing spell damage (like Obliviations or Legilemancy). So, it's a society that doesn't really know what to do with someone like Harry, they don't have the tools to help him and people around him just don't really understand.

Ron and Hermione care about Harry, but due to their own life experiences, they have no real ability to relate to him over his trauma and understand him. That's kinda the point in this conversation:

“Don’t sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn’t I?” he said heatedly. “I know what went on, all right? And I didn’t get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because — because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right — but I just blundered through it all, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing — STOP LAUGHING!” The bowl of murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed. He became aware that he was on his feet, though he couldn’t remember standing up. Crookshanks streaked away under a sofa; Ron and Hermione’s smiles had vanished. “You don’t know what it’s like! You — neither of you — you’ve never had to face him, have you? You think it’s just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you’re in class or something? The whole time you know there’s nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — like you can think straight when you know you’re about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die — they’ve never taught us that in their classes, what it’s like to deal with things like that — and you two sit there acting like I’m a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up — you just don’t get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn’t needed me —”

(OotP, 327)

They try, but they don't really get it. And after this conversation, they try more, and they make more of an effort to understand what Harry is talking about.

We see Sirius, who has his fair share of issues, understands and relates to Harry better from the get-go:

“Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?” asked Sirius. “Harry’s been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He’s got the right to know what’s been happen —”

(OotP, 87)

He understands Harry would want to know what's going on after being trapped for a month — he's in exactly the same boat, he knows.

“But if they do expel me,” said Harry, quietly, “can I come back here and live with you?” Sirius smiled sadly. “We’ll see.” “I’d feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn’t have to go back to the Dursleys,” Harry pressed him. “They must be bad if you prefer this place,” said Sirius gloomily.

(OotP, 115)

He understands the situation with the Dursleys and wants to help, but has no way to do so. He can't make promises Dumbledore would override him on. He cares about Harry and has the life experience to relate to him.

As does Luna, who experienced her mother's death:

Harry nodded curtly, but found that for some reason he did not mind Luna talking about Sirius. He had just remembered that she too could see thestrals.

(OotP, 863)

The problem isn't that people around him don't care (I mean, some don't) but in the case of Ron and Hermione, they just don't get it. They're teenagers in a culture that just doesn't conceive mental health as a thing. Wizards happily let inmates in Azkaban go mad and drive themselves to suicide, it's even expected according to Fudge. It's not our world and culture, so I'm not surprised by it. This scene with Hermione also showcases it well:

“Well, it’s like Hagrid said, they can look after themselves,” said Hermione impatiently, “and I suppose a teacher like Grubbly Plank wouldn’t usually show them to us before N.E.W.T. level, but, well, they are very interesting, aren’t they? The way some people can see them and some can’t! I wish I could.” “Do you?” Harry asked her quietly. She looked horrorstruck. “Oh Harry — I’m sorry — no, of course I don’t — that was a really stupid thing to say —”

(OotP, 450)

It's not that she meant to say anything to upset Harry, she just didn't think it through. Didn't think about what her words actually meant until Harry brought it up. And that's really what it is. They don't understand, not really. At least not at this point in the books.

The ones I don't really have an excuse for are some of the adults in the Order. I mean Lupin, Arthur, and Molly should know better. I mean, Lupin is allergic to responsibility, so, I understand why he doesn't try to help in any way. But Molly doesn't seem to understand either, Molly, who lost both her older brothers to Death Eaters. I think in Molly's case, is that she mastered the art of pushing any emotion she doesn't want to feel down and she doesn't understand why Harry is feeling things and not doing the same because she's sure everyone is like her in that regard. She is wrong.

Her reaction to the boggart in OotP is the result of how she doesn't seem to really process her negative emotions which, again, results in her having no clue what Harry's going through. Molly is a result of a culture that's very unaware of mental health and who never really dealt with her own issues and fears from the first war.

So, yeah, I think the responses we see to Harry's trauma from other characters are just very in line with wizards' understanding of mental health. Which is close to none.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

WAIT WAIT Hear me out , what if Platonic Yandere! Strawhats ... As Mermaids/Mermans with Human!Y/n ?

Let's say people that Strawhats meeted either hated them or tried to kill them until they got into fish trap and Y/n sees that Strawhats are quite injured and can't get out so Y/n helps them then runs away because they are hella scared?

I hope this is good! I kinda rushed it so I could have it done before the end of the month.

(Don't) Face Your Fears

Yandere Merfolk Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.8k words

Part 2

Deep breathes, you remind yourself. Deep breathes.

It was taking everything you had not to turn tail and run, but you stood your ground. You need to face this. You won’t be able to grow if you don’t. Waves crashed onto the shore ahead of you, the noise not allowing you to forget for a second where you were. The salty and fishy scent in the air was also a strong reminder.

You’re not even sure where this fear came from. You can’t recall some traumatic memory revolving around the ocean, you just hated it. The mystery of what hellish creatures lurked beneath the surface, the mere idea of being lost at sea, drowning, it all terrified you. 

All your life you’ve done your best to avoid the ocean despite living so close to it, but now you are trying to face it. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life trapped by your own fears. What if you want to leave this island one day but can’t bring yourself to do so because you’re too scared to get on the boat?

You’ve made some progress, a lot really. Being able to stand on the beach like this was something you couldn’t have done a month ago. Tonight, though, you were going to take this a step forward. You hated doing this at night, but you were too embarrassed about your fear to risk people seeing you potentially freaking out over some water.

Your bare feet dug into the sand as you tried to will yourself to relax and step towards the water. It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine. You’re just going to wade ankle deep in the water and then call it a night. That’s it.

Ignoring the pounding of your heart and the sweat starting to form, you take the necessary steps, bringing yourself onto the wet part of the sand. You cringed at the sensation, not enjoying it even a little bit. 

You stood there and waited for the tide to come back in, forcing yourself to stand still. Finally, dreadfully, a wave comes in and laps at your feet. Your first gut response involves dry heaving and wanting to run away, but you endure. It’s barely touched you, you need to tough it out. 

Despite every nerve of your body violently disagreeing with this idea of yours, you take another step forward. More water rushes over your feet. It’s cold, but not freezing. It almost feels nice in contrast to the humid summer air. 

Now, you decide to wait here and adjust, forcing your breathing to even out again. As the minutes tick by, you find yourself not minding it as much as you initially did. If you closed your eyes, you could almost pretend you were simply soaking your feet in the river by your home. Maybe you’ll be able to enjoy this? Maybe.

Shockingly, you found yourself walking through the water. Not deeper into it, simply staying at the same depth and wading along the shore. The silence was peaceful, and you found that your previously thundering heartbeat was slowing to a more normal rate. Against all odds and expectations, you couldn’t help but smile slightly. This was incredible progress for you, and you were proud of yourself.

The atmosphere changes as you hear something in the distance. Splashing, and a lot of it. It sounded too loud to just be a fish. Was it a person? Was someone drowning? You ran towards the source of the noise. As you got closer, you could hear yelling over all the splashing, too. It sounded like several people. What the hell was happening?

“Hello? Is everyone alright?” You called out, trying to get a feel for what was going on before you got there.

The splashes stopped, but you did get a response, “Hello? Who’s there?” The voice sounded feminine and distressed. Scared even.

You were getting close enough to be able to start to make out the people. There were a lot of them, at least five, but they were moving around too much to be able to count clearly. All of them were caught in a net.

“I’m (y/n). I was going for a walk when I heard you guys, and I wanted to see if you needed help,” which they most certainly did. How did that many people manage to get caught in a fishing net like this?

“We do! Can you cut this net open?” A different voice piped up, this one sounding like a young boy. 

You could do that, there was a knife strapped to your belt that you kept there both for functionality and self defense. There was a problem though. They were deeper into the water than you were. If you went out to them, you would be waist deep. Much farther than you were prepared to go so soon.

Your hesitance didn’t go unnoticed. “Please! We need to get out of this! Some of my friends are hurt and we can’t treat them while we’re all stuck like this!” The same voice from before desperately pleaded.

Nausea rumbled deep in your stomach, but not just from the ocean this time. You couldn’t just leave a bunch of people to die because you were scared of a little water. Okay, a lot of water, but you won’t even have to swim. It’s going to be okay. You can do this. You will do this.

Forcing yourself to take deep breaths, you march forward. Miraculously, the rising water doesn’t crumble your resolve. You don’t look down at the water, purposefully focusing on the net ahead of you. You need to get them freed, and you need to do it now before you can have a chance to chicken out.

Unbuckling the holster for your knife, you unsheath it and get to work trying to cut through the thick rope of the fishing net. There was a lot of resistance, but you didn’t give up. The segment you were sawing your knife through snapped and you immediately moved on to the next one, vying to get a big enough opening for them to squeeze through.

There were loud cheers from a few of them as the net came undone enough for them to get out. They wasted no time and all headed for the opening to slip through. You held it open for them, wanting them to get out as quickly as possible. 

The first one escapes, and that’s when you feel it. Something large and slimy brushes against your exposed legs. What? That was just a big fish, right? Maybe even an errant piece of seaweed. As the rest of the group filed out, you felt the same sensation on your legs each time. 

These… These people were human… Right?

Chills were running down your spine as you questioned what exactly you were dealing with here. Before you could back away or ask questions, one of them approached you. He didn’t just come up to you, no. He full on threw himself out of the water and wrapped his arms around your torso.

“Thank you for saving us! We don’t get a lot of help from humans most of the time, so I’m really happy that one as nice as you came to our rescue!” This was the same boy that had spoken to you moments before to beg for help. He smiled widely at you, and the moonlight reflecting off the water was enough for you to be able to make out his too sharp teeth. As well as the fins on the sides of his head where ears should be.

Oh my God. Merfolk. This is a merman and you’re surrounded by more of them. Every rumor you’ve heard about them comes to mind instantly in one big violent pang. That they love nothing more than to drag any poor unsuspecting human they come across out into the ocean to drown them. That they would eat you after you died. That they could curse humans into becoming like them.

No. No no no nO NO NO!

With a scream, you shove the merman off of you and make a break for the shore. You get there faster than you thought humanly possible and kept running, not looking back. Fuck this. Fuck them. Fuck the ocean. Fuck everything you’re never going near the ocean ever again for as long as you live!

—

The merfolk could only sit in the shallow water and stare at your rapidly retreating and screaming form.

“I suppose they didn’t know we were merfolk when they helped us,” Robin mused.

“I like them,” Luffy was positively beaming despite being thrown off you seconds before. He’d crawled closer to the shore to watch you leave, his tail loudly splashing in the water behind him.

“Of course you do, you like everyone that looks at you twice,” Zoro scoffed, waving a webbed hand dismissively. He winced when the action strained one of his injuries, causing Chopper to snap at him to hold still.

“No, I really like them! I want to see them again! I bet that if we talk for a bit, they’ll come around,” Luffy nodded resolutely, already imagining what he’s going to say next time he sees you.

“How are you going to do that? I doubt that they’re going to go anywhere near the ocean for a long time,” Nami pointed out.

This gave Luffy pause, but only for a brief moment. His eyes lit up as an idea struck him, “There’s a river that goes through this island, right? I can use that to try and see them again. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they live along it!” 

“At least let one of us come with you, you have no tact throwing yourself at them like you did,” Sanji could tell that this would take a certain level of finesse that their captain absolutely did not have. No doubt he would up and drag you into the water with him if you were close enough to do so.

“You’re only saying that because you want to see them again, too,” Zoro splashed water in Sanji’s direction, extinguishing the cigarette he finally had a chance to enjoy. Naturally, this caused a fight between the two to break out, with Sanji slapping Zoro with his tail while Chopper was yelling at both of them to cut it out.

Luffy didn’t pay them any mind. While your form may have vanished from sight, he could still follow your scent. Even if you weren’t right next to the riverbed, he wasn’t opposed to dragging himself across land to get to you. Now that he had your scent, there’s nowhere on this small island you could hide to stay away from him.

[sitp-recs]

Hey! Happy October! Do you have any incredibly dark and long drarry recs that might fit the spirit of Halloween, if this makes sense?

Thank you for everything you do. May the spirits walk with you this month xx

Happy Spooky Season, anon 🎃👻 I love that theme and am always looking for more recs. You can also find scary goodies in old collections from @hphorrorfest | @hpdarkarts and @hd-cluefest. Hope you enjoy these, I’ve also included some brilliant shorts:

The Other Cottage by @corvuscrowned (T, 6k)

If Pansy wasn’t shagging Ginny Weasley, Draco would never have been dragged to Luna’s ridiculous Halloween party in the first place - meaning he wouldn't be sitting in the corner of the room with Harry Potter all night. But when a strange comet passes overhead, things start to get even weirder than usual.

Doppelganger by @writcraft (M, 7k)

It was just a silly dare, but one ill-advised trip into the Forbidden Forest changes Harry’s life forever.

Saltwater Stain by @the-starryknight (M, 9k)

Seven days stuck on a boat investigating a rogue ghost wouldn't be so bad if Harry didn't want Draco so much. Draco has his rules and Harry's content to follow them, but the air feels different away from the shore. Is it possible that the sea could offer Harry something impossible on land?

At This Hour by disapparater (E, 10k)

Although he wants more, a nice meal and a good fuck might be all Harry can expect from Draco. But when Harry finds himself trapped inside a nightmarish version of Malfoy Manor he might get more than he bargained for.

And So Death Took by ICMezzo (E, 25k)

Fairy tales may soothe small children into slumber, but some stories themselves refuse to sleep. The Tale of Three Brothers, retold.

In Our Blood by secretsalex (E, 38k)

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

What Shall Not Be Unearthed by @iero0 (E, 49k)

At the northernmost point of Shetland, surrounded by pointed cliffs, towers the Ootsta Lighthouse on a small isle in the middle of the open sea. Little does Harry know that he's not the only new lighthouse keeper. Draco Malfoy is as obnoxious as he always was, with his posh tone of voice and his luxury yacht jumpers. Harry tries his best to avoid the git—who knows what he's up to anyway?

Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 125k)

After a serious accident in the Forbidden Forest, Draco's personality begins to undergo subtle changes. At first, Harry credits this to a new enthusiasm for life. But as the days pass and Draco's behavior becomes more and more mysterious, Harry begins to suspect that something bigger--and darker--is at work.

Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren (E, 135k)

Harry Potter was convinced he had an ordinary, if inconvenient, life. Then Ron and Hermione vanished in the Department of Mysteries. And the only person who may know where they are is a mute Draco Malfoy.

Bonus: I’ll never not rec my all-time fave WIP:

In the Dark by @bixgirl1

In the aftermath of an apocalypse, Harry receives an order to find and bring Draco Malfoy nearly a thousand miles, to the tenuous safety of Hogwarts. But more than distance separates them from their goal. The world has fallen, and death is hungry.

[zepp-l1n]

The Same

Pairing: Daniel Matthews x Fem!reader

summary: Daniel meets someone in the same boat as him at a "Jigsaw victim therapy group" session. fic type - hurt/comfort, post Saw 2, fluff?? warning - 2000s emo x 2000s emo, canon level Saw violence, both reader and Daniel have PTSD, mentions of past drug use, mentions of body scarring from the traps, self harm (??) word count - 1,779 a/n: hiiii! sorry my posting has been kinda off and on for the past few months, but I'm hoping now that school and my personal schedule is a little more chill, I'll be able to write and post more often. <3 (also, what's up with the lack of Daniel fics?)

Group therapy wasn't Daniel's idea. He knew he needed to talk about the things he had gone through and seen, which is why he had originally gone to one-on-one therapy, but when his therapist had suggested joining Bobby Dagen's group he had been very apprehensive. At first, Daniel had been very against the idea. He found Bobby very pretentious and overzealous, and the entire "Jigsaw victim therapy group" to be a scam for Bobby's fan's entertainment. For months his therapist and his mother brought up the group again and again, leading to Daniel finally deciding to go in the hopes of getting them to shut up about it.

Now, Daniel found himself in the room Bobby would rent out for each session. They were all sitting side by side in the formation of a circle, letting each person have a clear view of everyone else. Not one person in the room, other than bobby, looked elated to be there.

Daniel sat in his folded out seat, arms crossed and head turned downward. So far, the entire experience had been uncomfortable. Bobby had gone on one of his regularly scheduled "We should be grateful!" spiels, and multiple people had shared their sob-stories. For 30 minuets Daniel had to endure the same arguments and conversations over and over. He sat in silence, never once making himself known - choosing to sit and pick at his black, long-sleeved undershirt the entire time.

Daniel had been so focused on his own thoughts that when he finally glanced back up, he noticed all the eyes on him. "Daniel?" Bobby called out.

"Hmm?" his reply was short and uninterested.

"I asked if you would like to share your story with the others. Would you?" Bobby asked. The smile he gave Daniel as he spoke made him divert his eyes. Daniel shrugged, not knowing if he truly wanted to. "If you'd like to wait that's okay. Whenever you're ready, Daniel."

The other's diverted their attention to Luba afterwards, taking in her story. Daniel silently listened, just waiting for the session to be over. They continued this way, story after story, until the door swung open, creating a loud noise. In it's opening was a girl, presumably around Daniel's age from what he could see.

"Ah, (Y/N), nice of you to finally join us." Bobby sarcastically spoke.

The teen stepped into the room, waving at a man in the corner that Daniel hadn't noticed before, and continued towards the circle. The silver chain hanging from her belt loops lightly rattled against her black cargo-jeans as she walked his way. "Oh shut up, Bobby. Some of us have lives outside the whole Jigsaw shit." she scoffed, her eyeliner covered eyes glaring at the older man. The girl, (Y/N) as Daniel her Bobby call her, took a open seat a few chairs down from Daniel, giving him a tight-lipped smile and a wave of her ringed hand before turning towards the others.

"Now, now, (Y/N). There's no need for hostility here - we're all the same." Bobby cheerfully stated, causing the girl to roll her eyes. "Here, since you missed when everyone else did it, why don't you introduce yourself to out newest member. This is Daniel." his arm directed (Y/N)'s eyes to her fellow teen.

(Y/N)'s dark-red lips turned up into a forced smile before she spoke. "Hi, I'm (Y/N). I'm the girl who was found a week after a trap that wasn't even hers, half dead and tied to the mutilated corpse of her sister. Nice to meet you!" The smile dropped immediately after she finished her sentence.

"Sorry Daniel. Just ignore her. She's still a little apprehensive to be doing this." Daniel awkwardly nodded at Bobby's explanation. "Good, now why don't we continue..." Daniel couldn't focus on Bobby as he spoke - his attention was solely caught on (Y/N)'s appearance. On top of the jeans and chain, she also had a shirt similar to what he would usually wear. It was red and white, and he could tell it was showing some kind of band-logo, but he couldn't get a clear enough look to tell what band. Glancing down at his own white t-shirt, he caught similarities between the two, finally realizing who it was. "Wrath of the Gods." he whispered.

(Y/N)'s head lightly turned her head, seemingly asking him to repeat himself.

"Your shirt. It's 'Wrath of the Gods' - like mine." he lightly smiled. "You like them?"

She glances down, taking in her own shirt and then his. "Huh... Yeah, my sister, she uh, introduced me to their music a few years ago. This was her shirt actually; she gave me it when she got a new one before the trap."

"Sounds like she was pretty cool." Daniel muttered. By this point, (Y/N) had moved over a seat so they could talk without bothering any of the others.

She smiled before whispering back, "She was."

Now that she was closer, Daniel could see the scarring on her face, neck, arms, and hands. He couldn't help but wonder what she fully went through if that was the result of her trap. It also made him wonder if the same scarring would cascade down her legs and torso too. Did the scarring all look the same; how many were there; were some more gory than others? Hundreds of questions flew through his mind as he looked at her.

"How'd you get them?" Daniel didn't even register the fact that he had spoken.

"Huh?" (Y/N) whispered.

"Sorry, uh, your scars. If you don't mind me asking, how'd you get them? I mean, you don't have to tell me. Y'know, I don't want to cross any boundar-" Daniel's rant was cut off by (Y/N).

"It's fine, Daniel." she sighed, giving him a sad smile. "I got these during my sister's 'game'"

"Your sister's game?" Daniel asked, hoping she would clarify.

(Y/N) looked over at the others, making sure no one was bothered by their conversation, before continuing. "Yeah. My sister was the one being tested. It was my fault, but she was the one who got the consequences." she paused, taking a moment to fully think about how to explain her experience. "My parents died when I was little, and my sister had turned 18 a few weeks before they did. After that, she took me in; became my legal guardian, y'know. She was a nurse too, so a lot of the time I was either by myself or out with friends. When my friend Amy finally got her learners, we went out one evening and ended up in an accident. That led to me being on a shit-ton of pain meds, and eventually I got hooked. It was really bad. Jane, my sister, had access to a lot of pain medication, and I used that against her. I begged for weeks for her to steal me them. She, uh... She eventually couldn't take seeing me so bad, so she broke a lot of rules and brought me some. I guess Jigsaw found out, and he thought I was pulling her down. When he took us, his whole argument in the tape was that I was bad for her, and if she got rid of her baggage - me - then she'd be free and would go places in life. If she didn't get rid of me, she'd die." Once again, (Y/N) paused, collecting herself. "He had us tied together to this weird chair set up. It was on these rails, and in front of either of us were these things I could only describe as 'the open-faced turkey sandwich version of a woodchipper'. She was supposed to kill me - push me into mine. I begged and pleaded for her to just do it, cause, I mean, he was right. I was the only bad thing in her life. She would've been better off without me."

"If she died, and didn't want to hurt you, then how did you end up with all the scars?" Daniel quietly asked.

"I did it to myself." Daniel's eyes widened at how casually she said it. "She wouldn't push back and put me into the woodchipper, so I did it myself. I put my feet on the edges of the rails and pushed myself forwards into it. I got close enough to cut myself up a bit. I thought I was gonna save her." (Y/N)'s eyes began to water, and she quickly wiped it away. "Jane was always stronger than me, though. She pulled back and kept us at the midpoint. We were there when the timer went off. I guess it was motorized, cause when the timer went off, we moved backwards. Jane went straight into it. There was nothing I could do but sit there and listen to her screams. Jigsaw and his little groupies never came for me. I was supposed to die, so they left me there. For about a week I was strapped to the trap and what was left of my sister, out of it from blood loss, hunger, and dehydration. Some homeless guy eventually found everything and called the police."

"Wow..." Daniel muttered.

"Yeah, I know." (Y/N) hesitantly chuckled. "Since then I've been doing two sessions of regular therapy a week, this, and rehab."

As she finished her sentence, Bobby loudly spoke up. "Alright guys, today was great! It is time we wrap up though. I hope to see everyone again next week, and I hope you have a great rest of your week." The two teens watched as he walked back to the doorway of the room, stopping next to his wife, lawyer, bestfriend, and publicist.

"Well, I guess that's enough trauma dumping for today." (Y/N) glanced back over at Daniel. "Listen, uh, y'know, 'Wrath of the Gods' has a show this weekend. You should come, so we could hang out some more. To be honest, I need more friends who listen to music I like." she laughed.

Daniel grinned, "Yeah, why not?"

"Good, good." (Y/N) mumbled. "Listen, I gotta go, my foster dad picks me up from these things, but I'll see you this weekend."

"Yeah, yeah, see you later." he smiled. Daniel contently watched as she got up, and headed for the door.

As she got closer to the door, (Y/N) turned back around and waved at him. "Bye, Danny."

(Y/N) turned back around and exited, leaving Daniel to sit in the room alone, thinking over what had just happened. "Holy shit." he dramatically exhaled. Maybe coming to the "Jigsaw victim therapy group" wasn't that bad of an idea.

[sinnabarmoth]

Worthy of Devotion (7/9)

Pairing: Sea God|Rafayel x Worshipper|Reader (fem)

Summary: The temple is finally restored and Reader's time on the island is at its end. She wants to leave nothing unsaid this final night with Rafayel.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Loss of virginity. Fingering. Handjob. Cunnilingus. P in V.

Length: 6k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (8) (9)

Read on AO3

You finally found your way onto the roof. You ended up having to build a really tall ladder to get up there but it worked. You got yourself some rope and tied it around the supplies you needed and pulled it up after you. You figured that Rafayel would not be happy with you for this, he had thought the idea of you going on the roof at all was a bad idea. So you waited until one morning he wasn’t around to execute your plan. It was early in the morning and the sun was just starting to rise over the sea.

From the top of the temple it was a breathtaking view. No time to admire it though, you had work to do. So you went back to work and started lining up planks of wood to cover the holes in the roof. Hopefully when you returned to the mainland you could get some people who actually knew how to do this kind of work to make this something more elegant.

The repairs didn’t actually take that long. By the time the sun was directly overhead you were pretty much done. There were just a few smaller holes that you could fill in with spackle. Which meant one more trip on the ladder. You dusted yourself off and went to the side of the roof where you had left the ladder.

“Huh,” you looked around, “I’m pretty sure I set it against this wall. Where did it--oh shit.” your ladder had fallen over and you were now trapped on the roof. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“Right you are, clownfish.” Down on the ground standing under the shade of one of the trees was Rafayel. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Hello,” you waved, “I was just doing some repairs. No big deal.”

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want you climbing up there? You could hurt yourself.”

“It’s fine. Nothing went wrong.”

“Except for this.” he picked up the ladder. “What if I wasn’t around? How were you planning on getting back down?”

“I was thinking of using this rope to repel down if it got desperate enough.”

He sighed and put the ladder back up. “Get down please.”

“I’m coming.” you climbed back down. “So, how is your morning going?”

“Was going well until I found my follower somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be.” he flicked your forehead. “You don’t like doing as you’re told, do you?”

“Whatever could you mean? I have never once disobeyed you.”

“Remember when you first came to this island? You were so proper and obedient and sweet, what happened to her?”

“She got trapped here for months with only you to talk to. I think it drove her insane.” you smiled, flicking him back.

He sighed, shaking his head. “And how is your progress on the roof?”

“Almost done. I need to fill in some cracks and smaller holes but this should be it. The temple is restored.”

“I see. What about the windows? They’re still missing their glass.”

“Well, I have no way to make glass so I guess I’m just going to have to board them up for now. When the time comes that I can send other followers here I’ll send them with supplies to properly fix everything I could only patch.” You sat back on the grass and stared up at the temple. Months of work finally at fruition. No longer a ruin but a temple worthy of its god.

Rafayel sat next to you. “This means that you’ll need to return home soon.”

“Not quite yet.” you shrugged. “I have to build a boat to take me back to the mainland and considering I’ve never made a boat before that is going to take a while.”

“Do you miss it? The mainland?”

“Some things, yes.” you couldn’t lie about this. “I had friends there that I miss terribly. I miss the festivals and the foods and the music. I miss the temple I grew up in and even though they were liars I miss the elders who raised me. It’s hard to believe that I’ve been away for so long and yet the days went by so quickly.

“I’m going to miss this place when I leave and…” you glanced at Rafayel. Things you wanted to say but couldn’t get past your lips stayed trapped on your tongue. “...and I’m definitely going to miss that bed and that tub. Going back to my simple cot and having to warm my own baths is going to take some getting used to again.”

“You’re going to be returning as the woman who single handedly returned the temple to its former glory and with a brand new text straight from the mouth of a god. I think that is more than high priestess worthy, and thus you can request a better bed and for someone else to draw you baths.”

“We’ll see. I can imagine I’m going to have a lot of pushback from the elders. There may be some who try to denounce everything I say to keep with the old traditions.”

“If they do, pray to me and I’ll send a storm in to set them straight.”

“Good to know.”

“One more thing.” he reached behind the tree you were sitting under and pulled out a wooden chest. He handed it to you. “Open it.”

“What is this?” You lifted the lid and nestled inside was a pile of cloth.

“Think of it as your regalia as high priestess.” Unlike the clothes Rafayel had brought you before that were nice but clearly meant for everyday toil and work this was truly something regal. The stark white material was light and soft, accented with deep blue and stitched with gold embroidery. It was beautiful but it also looked familiar. It was at that moment you realized that it was patterned after what you saw Rafayel normally wear, with matching golden jewelry and shoes as well.

“It’s wonderful.” your voice caught as you hugged the clothes to your chest. “Raf, I…I don’t know what to say. This is too much.”

“After everything you’ve done for the temple and what you’ll do when you return, it is not nearly enough.” There looked like there was something else he wanted to say but he turned away. “Come on, I doubt you had anything to eat yet today.”

“Coming.” The day passed normally from there but you could tell that you both were avoiding talking about something important. Something that could very well determine your future.

The next couple of days you finished fixing the roof, this time with Rafayel’s supervision so you didn’t up trapped up there again. You were in the middle of going from room to room making sure you had fixed everything you could when Rafayel came in and told you he had something for you outside.

“What could you possibly have brought that you couldn’t bring it inside?” you laughed as you followed him out. You walked down the beach and you heart sunk into your feet when you saw what was on the shore.

“A boat?” you turned to Rafayel but he continued to stare straight ahead. “But where did it come from?”

“I commissioned some of my people to make it for you. You said you didn’t know how to build one and if you are going to go back to the mainland I’d prefer it that you didn’t set off on a badly built raft.” Rafayel explained.

“I can go back?”

Rafayel continued to stare at the boat, his expression unreadable. “Yes.”

It was happening. The temple was restored and you had a boat. You would need to leave soon.

“Raf, I…” There were too many emotions swirling inside you to pick just one.

“Don’t think you’re getting away so easily though.” he said, turning back to you with a bright smile. “We are celebrating your last day on the island tonight. You can scamper off back to the mainland in the morning.”

There was something about the way he spoke that felt too chipper and you wondered how sincere his happiness was. This was what you had been working towards for months. In the morning you would be leaving for the mainland and start the process of restoring your religion to what Rafayel wanted it to be. In the morning you would leave as his high priestess and your time as friends would be at an end.

The day sped by far too fast as you started gathering your things and setting them in the boat so you could leave early in the morning. You had accumulated many trinkets during your time here so it took longer than you thought. All the clothes Rafayel had brought you, the board for Jumping Shrimp you’d always play, small paintings and sketches Rafayel made for you, seashells you had collected, a piece of one of the shattered stain glass windows, and other small odds and ends that held little memories of your time here.

As evening fell you and Rafayel walked along the beach, the bright light of the full moon illuminated the island. There was a quiet peace that neither of you wanted to disturb. But as his hand interlaced with yours you felt all the things you had wanted to say for weeks bubbling up again. You knew if you left in the morning without saying anything you’d regret it the rest of your life.

“Rafayel?” your voice wavered as you spoke.

He stopped, sensing the hesitation in your voice. “Yes?”

It was unfair how beautiful he was. Those mesmerizing blue eyes and way the moonlight shined off his hair. You believed with every fiber of your being that he was a god. Maybe if he looked half as handsome it’d be easier to say all this. Maybe if he was just a man and not your deity you wouldn’t feel like such a hopeful fool.

“I um…” you swallowed past the lump in your throat, “I don’t know how to say this. I don’t even know if I should. I am terrified that I will have ruined everything we’ve built but I need you to know that I…I…”

I love you. You finished in your head, unable to get the words out. They were too real, too honest. I love everything about you. I love how serene you are when you’re painting but so focused and serious when playing games. I love the way you play with me, even when you’re trying to annoy me. I love the way you hold me when we sleep. I love how passionate you are and funny and kind. I love you so much it breaks my own heart cause loving you is literally like trying to love the ocean. You’re far too vast for me to hold, but I would still drown trying to. I love you, Rafayel.

The world came to a still. There was no breeze. The ocean itself had smoothed into glass.

Rafayel cupped your cheek and tilted your face up to his, wiping your tears away. “Your prayer has been heard.” he whispered before he claimed your lips in a kiss as deep as the ocean itself.

You swayed, falling further into him as you kissed him back. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. His tongue pressed gently against your lips and you parted them for him. You were glad you were already holding onto him as his tongue swept tentatively into your mouth, tasting you deeper. When all the air had been taken from your lungs he pulled back slightly to let you breathe.

“Cor meum,” he murmured against your lips, “Don’t leave.”

You blinked, coming out of the daze the kiss had left you in. “What?”

“I don’t want you to leave.” he kissed the corner of your mouth. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Raf, I…” your heart split in two, caught between desire and duty. “It won’t be goodbye. I will still pray to you every night. You’re my god. We’ll never be far apart from each other.”

“Why do we have to be apart at all?” tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. “Was it not you who said you weren’t even sure if you wanted to return to the mainland because the other priests had been lying? Why return to that?”

“And let everyone keep worshiping you the way you don’t want to be? I need to go back. To make things right. It’s what we’ve been working towards all this time.” you held tightly to him, scared that he’d slip from you if you let go for even a moment. “If I don’t then this temple will be abandoned again.”

You could tell he was fighting for some counterpoint. Something that could make you change your mind.

“You want me to be your high priestess.” you said. “I can make real change as that. I can be a wonderful priestess to you. Isn’t that what you want?”

“I want you.” he took in a shaky breath. “Please. Stay.”

“It would be selfish if I did.” These words were breaking your heart but you knew you couldn’t escape your duty. You had promised that you would correct things, change the narrative that the charlatan priests had been spreading for centuries. You loved him, but because you loved him you knew you needed to do this. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry we can’t have both.”

“You…you won’t be moved, will you?”

You shook your head.

He kissed your forehead, breathing you in as he thought. “If this is what will happen then I want you to be mine and mine alone. My priestess, cor meum, belong to me, body and soul.”

“Don’t I already?”

“Then let me be yours as well. I want none to have me the way you do.” He swallowed nervously, “Lemuria and the mainland are too far apart. It may well be that we may not see each other again and if that is our fate then I want to spend this final night with you.”

Your heart flipped in your chest. “What do you mean?”

“I want to move with you, like the tide lapping the shore.” he pressed you closer, “I want to make love to you, cor meum.”

The air around you suddenly choked you with heat. “Aren’t priests and priestesses supposed to remain celibate?” your voice could just barely be heard over the wind.

“Because they are devoted to me. Does celibacy mean anything if the person you are sleeping with is your god?” he asked.

“I suppose you have a point there.” you wished your heart would stop beating so fast, you could hardly catch your breath. “So yes.”

“Yes, what?” he prompted, a playful smile on his face.

“Yes, I want to belong to you in a way no others who become your followers can. I want you to be mine in a way no one else will be able to replicate. I want you to make love to me, Rafayel.”

His breath stuttered as he pulled you up off your feet and began to walk back to the temple. The closer you got the more nervous you became. You had come to terms long ago that because of your lot in life you would never be allowed to fall in love, much less have sex. Being a priestess meant that your life began and ended with your god, no one could have any other part of you. Because of that you had never worried about it before now and it was becoming alarmingly clear how out of your depth you were.

“Um, Rafayel,” you squeaked out, “Is this going to hurt? I’ve heard stories about how women hurt the first time they have relations with a man.”

“I wouldn’t know.” he said. You could see the tips of his ears burning bright red. “I haven’t exactly done this before.”

“Had sex with a human?”

The red spread to his face. “Actually…” he cleared his throat, “Something I never mentioned when we were writing the history of the Sea Gods is that they are um…bonding creatures. Whoever they partner with is the only person they will ever be with.”

“Oh.” your face heated as well. “So you’ve never done this at all either?”

“Yes.”

“And if we do this, what does that mean for you?”

“It means exactly what I said on the beach.” you were up the steps and in front of the door to the bedroom. “I want none to have me the way you do. It will only ever be you, cor meum.”

“But--”

“Shh,” he nudged the door open with his foot and carried you inside. “This is what I want. I will have only you for as long as I live. It does not matter if it is ten, twenty, a hundred years from now. I will always be waiting for you to come back to me, if you ever wish to.”

“Are you saying all this to get me to stay?”

“Partly.” he set you back on your feet. “But I know that you’re stubborn and you will do whatever you wish. I just hope one day you’ll wish to come back to me.”

You pushed yourself to your toes to kiss him again. He returned it with fervor, pulling you close so your body was pressed flush against him.

“Care to help me get this off?” you asked, glancing down at the tunic he was bunching in his hands.

“I can do that.” he stepped back slightly, finding the hem of your tunic and slowly pulling it up and over your head. Your arms automatically went to cover yourself. “Nothing to be shy about, cor meum. It isn’t anything I haven’t seen from you before. But I would love the chance to admire it in full.”

You lowered your arms again, forcing them to remain at your side. He studied you much in the same way he admired the frescoes in the temple, with reverence and awe. With a deep breath you slid the loose pants off your hips so they pooled around your legs, leaving you completely bare before him. His nostrils flared and that little spark of light was once again lit in his eyes.

“Your turn.” you said. You were shaking and couldn’t tell if it was nerves or the wind blowing in through the open windows.

“Right.” he cleared his throat and began removing the pieces of jewelry from his person one by one. He let them clatter on the ground, his eyes never leaving you as he was stripped of his adornments. Finally he reached for the golden pin that helped keep the sarong he always wore in place and took it out. The material fell to the floor and heat pooled between your legs as you stared at his dick. Anatomy lessons and statues really did not prepare you for being faced with the real thing.

“Let’s get on the bed.”

You nodded and sat yourself down in the center of the bed. He followed after you, sitting down next to you. “Let’s just take it slow.” he said.

“Good idea.”

He kissed your forehead, your left eyelid followed by your right, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. Each gentle kiss a moment to be savored. “You’re so beautiful, cor meum.” he whispered before claiming your lips again.

You pressed your hands against his chest, feeling the way his heart pounded under your palm as you kissed. He touched you gently, experimentally, his hands caressing your arms and running down the length of your spine. Each touch felt like he left a trail of fire in his wake. More of that heat was building between your legs and you pressed them tightly together to stave off the feeling.

You shifted slightly as you were rolled to your back. Your arms wove around his neck as he pressed his naked torso to yours. His skin against yours was an intoxicating intimacy you had only glanced in stolen moments when you swam together, when your clothes were plastered to your skin making you feel as if you wore none at all. But now there was nothing in the way between you and it made your head swim.

You pulled back from the kiss and dragged your lips down to the column of his throat. A deep sigh exhaled from him as you kissed along his neck. “Cor meum…” he breathed out.

“You going to tell me what that means now?” you muttered against his skin. You found the spot where his pulse thundered and you gave a small bite.

“My heart.” he moaned, “It means you are my heart.”

“Cor meum,” you tested the foreign word, the unfamiliar syllables tumbling past your lips. “Did I say it right?”

“Lemurian sounds beautiful on your tongue, my heart.” he pulled your face back to his, kissing you quick. “I want to hear how you say other things, starting with my name.”

“Does your name sound different in Lemurian?”

“I didn’t mean in Lemurian.” he gave you a rakish smile. His hands moved again, resting on your hips and moved slowly up your torso towards your chest but not further than that. He seemed to be seeking permission. You took one of his hands and moved it to you cup your breast.

“You are a wonder,” he kissed the underside of your jaw, “Say my name, please.”

“Rafayel,” you said.

He ran a thumb over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. A whine built in your throat. “Again.” he said, watching the way your lip quivered as small waves of arousal coursed through your body.

“Rafayel.” His name came out breathless and needy. “Rafayel, my Rafayel. Please.”

“What do you want me to do?” he swallowed, staring hard at your face. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Here,” you took his hand and guided it back down to your body where you most wanted to be touched.

Growing up you had been taught that if your goal was to be a priestess you could not indulge in any carnal pleasure. It went against dedicating yourself to your god. But as a teenager you had been curious as to what was so bad about it and decided to indulge, purely out of scientific curiosity. At least that was what you told yourself. It was strange but it also felt good and you wondered why such a thing was forbidden for the higher ups in the clergy. Your pleasure was a secret that caused bliss and guilt, because despite how nice it had felt you thought you were doing something blasphemous.

Now, it all felt so ridiculous. You were with your god, leading his hand to your core, showing him how to touch you and none of it felt wrong.

Short gasps and moans of pleasure punctuated the air as his fingers moved with yours along your slit and over your clit. Rafayel was attentive and watched what motions and which places made you writhe and moan the most. A single slender finger pushed into your cunt and you immediately clamped down around it.

He slid it in and out, curling it just so like you told him until he got the motion and added another finger to fill you and stretch you out more.

“Raf--” you bit your lip, fighting for some form of control to get the words out, “Raf, show me. Please.”

“What?” he tore his attention away from watching his hand between your legs. “What do you need?”

“I want to touch you too.” you said, “Show me.”

“Oh,” he said, eyes darting down to his dick which stood between you hard and flushed as red as his face. “I’m scared if you touch me there I might explode.”

“We have all night.” you reminded him. “I want you to feel good too.”

“Alright, give me your hand.” You gave him your hand and he brought it to his cock. A guttural groan left his lips upon your touch and you squeaked a little when his cock seemed to twitch in your hand. “Sorry,” he said. “Like I said, I’m very close to coming already. Just, grasp it like this and move up and down, firmly but not too tight.”

Your hand began to move and his head dropped forward as his breathing got more ragged. He left you to it, his attention going back to stroking your cunt. You could tell you were both nervous, both eager to please, and both trying to fight the pleasure inside you so you could go on pleasing each other. It was like a game of push and pull, and whoever came first was the loser. Unfortunately for Rafayel he was right about how close he had been. As your hand got quicker his sanity slipped faster until he was panting and thrusting into your fist.

He cursed something in Lemurian as he came, the thick and sticky white substance of his seed coated your hand and a bit had also splattered on your abdomen. His dick became soft again and he laid back breathing hard as he tried to catch his breath.

“You made a bit of a mess,” you giggled, wiping the drops off with a corner of the bedsheets.

“Your fault.” he sighed, “I told you what was gonna happen and you still insisted.”

“Of course. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you come? It was well worth it.”

“You still need yours.” Rafayel raked his eyes up and down your body. “And this time, you aren’t going to distract me.”

“What do you mean--” your words died in your throat as he brought the fingers that had been in your cunt to his mouth and sucked the juices off them one at a time.

“So sweet, I want to taste more.” he slid down your body. You automatically closed your legs, embarrassed that he was looking so closely at your cunt. He rested his chin on your knees. “If you don’t want me to I won’t but I’d really like to taste you. May I?”

“I uh…” he ran his hands up and down your thighs, easing you and grounding you in the moment. You took in a deep breath and let it out slowly then gradually parted your legs once more. “Alright.”

He kissed your knee. “It’s alright, my heart. I’ll do my best to make you feel good.”

His eyes drifted down and hungrily took in the sight of your cunt spread before him, already plenty wet from his fingering earlier. He slotted himself between your legs, pressing kisses along your thighs. He shot you a mischievous little smile before biting the supple flesh. A sharp squeak escaped you when he did and more arousal pooled at your core. He noticed the way your muscles flexed and he did it again, a little harder. He lathed his tongue over the bite mark before setting his sights back on your cunt.

You could tell he was being careful, the touch of his lips against your cunt was gentle and explorative. You fisted your hands in the sheets of the bed, soft moans echoing in the room as he figured out what spots and motions made you see stars. When he finally parted your folds to slide his tongue against you, burying his face into your cunt so he could lap up the arousal leaking out of you is when your composure really started to go.

You fisted a hand in his hair, unsure if you were trying to keep him there or trying to pull him off. His eyes were closed as he devoured you. You could tell you were reaching a climax but unlike the secret pleasures you had stolen back on the mainland it wasn’t a point of release followed by relaxation. Your legs were shaking, your moans growing louder than they had ever been before, and it felt as if a tidal wave was rushing towards you about to pull you out to sea.

“Raf--Raf--” your grip on his hair got stronger. “Fuck! Please! Please Raf! Please!”

You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. Was it release? Was it for him to stop? Everything was far too much. You were racing forward faster than you could comprehend and he was showing no sign of slowing. In fact, when you started repeating his name he got even faster, holding your hips down with one arm while his free hand rubbed circles over your clit.

Too much! Too much! Too much!

“Raf--” your body seized as a pleasure far more fervid and immense than what you had known before tore through you and left you panting and gasping for breath.

He pulled back almost immediately, watching the way your body twitched and rode out the intense orgasm. “Are you alright?”

“I think so…” you were still trying to get your bearings. “I didn’t realize that the climax could feel so…strong. Are you sure you’ve never done this with someone else before?”

“Positive.” he climbed back up, wiping the shine of your arousal from his mouth. “But I like to think I’m very observant, so we can thank that for what just happened.”

A giggle gathered in your throat and you tried to suppress it. “What?” Rafayel asked. “What are you laughing about?”

“Sorry, I just um…I don’t want to say it.”

“Oh no, please, what were you going to say?”

“I just thought it was funny that you said you’re very observant but apparently not observant enough to realize when you were walking into a trap when we played Jumping Shrimp.”

“And again with Jumping Shrimp! It always comes back to that with you, doesn’t it?” Rafayel pulled you close, tickling your sides as he nuzzled his face in your neck.

“I’m sorry! This is why I didn’t want to say it. I knew you were gonna get pouty on me.”

“I’m not pouting.” he bit your neck. “How could I when have you spread out like this?”

“Raf!” your face burned anew. “You can’t just say that!”

“Why not? No one else is here to hear us.” he pulled your hands away from your face and kissed you. There was something intoxicating about tasting yourself on his tongue. It made you wish that you hadn’t wiped his seed off your hand. Maybe he would have enjoyed the sensation too.

“And I’m grateful there’s no one else here,” he murmured, “I want these precious sounds you make to belong to only me.”

“Always.” you brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, “I want you to make love to me now, Rafayel. I’m ready if you are.”

“I love you.” he said, “I will only love you for the rest of my days.”

He settled between your legs, hands braced on your hips as he notched his cock at the entrance of your cunt. You had decided to fist the sheets again as means to keep you tethered to sanity as he gave you one final loving look before slowly pushing inside. A whine of discomfort burned your throat and he stopped.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, concern etched across his face.

“A bit.” you tried to relax. “I’m good. Keep going, please.”

“We don’t have to rush. We have all night.” he assured you. He pulled back just a bit before sinking in again, pushing a little deeper as your body relaxed and stretched bit by bit to accommodate him.

It still hurt but not nearly as bad as what you had expected. After what felt like forever of slowly rocking together he was fully sheathed inside you. No matter what happened now, you were bonded…forever. No one could have this and no one could take it away.

“Rafayel,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” his voice was deep and strained. You could feel him throbbing inside you, desperate to move. “I love you so much.”

And just like how the waves swayed your body as you laid on the surface of its endless tide, you moved with Rafayel as only lovers could. He started shallow and slow until the pain and uncomfortableness of your joining began to ebb away. You could feel pinpricks of pleasure building behind the uncertainty of your movements.

“You’re so beautiful.” he said. “Need to sear this image into my memory.”

Your body glistened with buds of sweat blossoming over your skin. Back and forth you pushed and pulled with him. Your nails dug into his back as the pleasure started to overtake the pain. The drag of his cock along your walls felt euphoric. You fit so well together, as if you had been made to slot together perfectly for one another. Maybe you had been.

Almost all your life you had been told you were blessed by the ocean. Maybe that had been for a reason. Maybe this was where you were always meant to end up. Locked together with the sea itself in a dance as old as time.

“Cor meum…” Rafayel said through gritted teeth, “You feel divine. I don’t know how long I can keep this up though. From the moment I felt you around me all I’ve wanted was to rut against you like an animal. It feels so good. Too good. But I still want you to come with me.”

“Alright.” you wanted that too. “Go a little faster,” you told him. Your hand slid down your stomach and teased your clit, “And kiss me.”

His mouth crashed to yours as he picked up the pace, his slow measured thrusts getting faster and more out of rhythm as he began chasing his own pleasure. Your legs kicked and squirmed as all the sensations came together. With the additional pressure on your clit you felt another orgasm drawing closer.

Rafayel’s mouth slanted across yours, his moans being swallowed by you as he got closer and closer. You could hardly breathe at all. Your body desperate for release moved to meet his thrusts. He took charge, grabbing your hips and moving them in sync with him so it felt even better.

He repeated your name over and over, his voice getting more desperate the closer he got. “Come with me.” he pleaded. “I need you to come with me, cor meum. Please!”

“Want to! I want to come with you!” You were just at a tipping point. So close! “Rafayel!”

His hips snapped against yours twice, maybe three more times and then he stilled as he came and the sensation was that final push you needed to come as well. Your cunt clamped down around him and you could feel the warmth of his fill and coat your insides. The feel of it sent a shiver up your spine.

You both slumped, his body pressed atop yours as you tried to catch your breath after the incredible high. His softening cock was still wedged in you but you didn’t dare move him. You wanted to burn this feeling into your brain. If could capture this moment in a bottle and keep it with you forever you would.

“How do you feel?” Rafayel was the first to speak, his words mumbled into your ear.

“Incredible.” you turned your head to kiss his cheek. “Exhausted, but incredible.”

“Same.” he gently pulled out of you. You whined a bit at the motion. Suddenly you felt far too empty. Your cunt would forever be molded by the shape of him and only him. “One moment.” he started to move away from you. You instinctively grabbed his arm.

“It’s alright, I’m not going far.” he said with a smile and brushed a feather soft kiss to your face. You noticed with some pride that he was walking awkwardly towards the bathing room. You may not have had the energy to walk but you were glad that you had thoroughly winded him too.

He came back from the bathing room with a wet rag in hand and wiped clean the mess of fluids that had accumulated between your legs. “Figured you wouldn’t want to sleep with all of that sticking to you.” After he was done he tossed the rag away and joined you back in bed.

“Thanks.” you immediately nestled right against him.

For a while you didn’t say anything. You simply laid together and breathed, basking in the post coital bliss. Maybe this night could stretch on forever.

“We are bonded.” Rafayel said, drawing your attention back to him. “Cor meum, my heart, I vow to you this, should you ever call me, I will always answer. No matter where we are, what I am doing, you will know I am always listening to you. And if one day you say you want to come home, I will bring you home.”

“I will.” you said, tears gathering in your eyes again. “One day, I don’t know when. I don’t know how long rebuilding a religion will take but I will come home to you. I promise.”

“Don’t take too long.” he whispered, holding you close. “I love you, more than anything in this world.”

“I love you, Rafayel. I always have, I always will.”

You repeated the words over and over as the day began to wear down on you and for the final night for a long time, you fell asleep in the arms of your god.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

What About Scaramouche? Like not Wanderer, Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers Scaramouche.

Scaramouche, The Sixth Harbinger, is on False Creator's side.

Because they promised him a throne of an Archon. As soon, as they have one available.

When Creator decided, what to do with Dendro Archon.

"Don't bow so low, Scaramouche. You are a future Archon. Carry yourself with more dignity." gently scolds Creator. Scaramouche lift his head, looking at Their Holiness. At the embodiment of power and grace.

_________

Scaramouche bowed before Ivory Throne. Creator's voice was calm and welcoming.

He didn't dare to ask, when he will get his title. He believed in Creator. They will fulfill their promise. They were above people and gods. Above the sin of lie.

Yet, Scaramouche wished, that the days of his godhood came sooner.

If only that stubborn Dendro Archon will make up their mind.

________

Devine came into Sanctuary of Surasthana. Something more devine, in the eyes of other people, than Dendro Archon, trapped inside the Sanctuary. Devine were there before. They didn't get what they want before. Devine hopped, that this time, they will get it.

"Don't worry, dear child. I will let you free." Devine sang their siren song. "But before... Say it."

Dendro Archon, who was trapped for all her life, looked smug. Devine came to hate that smug smile.

Like before, Nahida tilted her head. And repeated the same words.

"Where are your familiars, Holy One? Where are the ones, who helped you built this world? Who faced down armies of usurpers, battled demons, who have healed your wounds and carried your broken body across war scarred plains? Why their home, your cradle, lay in shambles?"

Devine slammed both hands against the surface of Nahida's cage. Their eyes, for a moment, lost focus. Nahida knew, that, if one of her aranaras was here, they would say, that "Marana showed itself".

They weren't a god.

They were Marana.

Corruption. Sin. Destruction.

"Wrong answer..."

The illusion, that False Creator created and wears upon themselves, was broken. And Nahida saw them. Yellowish sharp teeth. Her cage didn't let smells, but Nahida knew, that Fake's breath smells of rotten flesh.

Nahida knew, that she was safe. Irmensul will listen only to her.

And Fake will not risk it. They wouldn't want to spend their powers on taking control over Irmensul.

No powers means no illusion. No illusion means no praises, no followers, no throne of Devine.

Nahida looked Fake in the eyes. Unblinking.

Fake let out an almost animalistic roar. They breathe in, turned on their heels and stomped away.

Illusion was on again.

"I am getting impatient, child. Be a good kid, and think again. And I will let you out of the room."

Doors of Sanctuary of Surasthana closed behind Fake.

And Nahida reached out to Irmensul. Through the invisible thread. The last gift of dead Celestial.

'Safe real Creator. Don't let Demon got them.'

Irmensul branches, that were hiding remains of Celestia were still whole.

Perhaps, one day, they will help Real Creator.

__________

In a three month, The Imposter Hunt will begin.

__________

Scaramouche will do anything to secure his future position. He and his Fatui subordinates will burn Teyvat, if it means they could find an Imposter.

And, after Nahida's involvement in helping Imposter was discovered, Scaramouche will personally tear Sanctuary of Surasthana apart.

Scaramouche will get the title of an Archon. He will get Dendro Gnosis.

If only he knew, where Previous Archon has disappeared, why he can't reach Irmensul, and where Imposter was hiding?

_________

Your boat stopped at one of the deserted shores of Fontaine. Nahida tell you, that you can find help here.

The small stone flower, creation of Nahida and one of the Celestia gods, felt heavy in your bag.

It was your link with Irmensul. And with remains of Celestia. With remains of Real Creator's powers.

_______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

[one-world-many-stories]

blog introduction + about me

In recent years, the dehumanization of refugees and immigrants has become impossible to ignore.

In the United States, families fleeing unimaginable horrors such as war or immense oppression have been met not with safety, but with completely cruelty. In a country that prides itself on being the "land of the free", nonetheless. Rather than being taken to shelter and safety, children are torn from their parents at the border, locked in cages, and referred to as “unaccompanied alien minors,” as if their humanity was secondary to their immigration status. Political leaders have continuously fed into the hatred, calling immigrants “animals” and describing them as a “national security threat.” In recent months, President elect Donald Trump described Haitian refugees as "They're eating the cats, they're eating the dogs." These words, repeated again and again, have justified policies that treated these families as less than human, as though their suffering didn’t matter.

In Europe, it is no different. Refugees escaping war and persecution find themselves trapped in refugee camps like Moria, where the conditions were so poor that one humanitarian aid worker called it “a place of sheer hopelessness.” Politicians didn’t hold back their disdain. Hungary’s prime minister, Viktor Orbán, called refugees “Muslim invaders,” while others described their boats as carrying “human meat.” When we hear words like that, it’s no surprise that so many people turned a blind eye to what was happening. Refugees were left to drown in the Mediterranean or sit for years in squalid camps, waiting for help that never comes.

What makes all of this even more devastating is how refugees and immigrants are so often reduced to numbers, and thus dehumanized even further. The stories of who they are—what they’ve endured, what they’ve lost—are rarely told. Instead, we hear statistics: thousands detained, hundreds drowned, millions displaced. But behind each number is a human being. A mother clutching her child as they cross a river in the dead of night. A teenager leaving behind everything they know for a chance to live without fear. A father who would do anything to provide a better life for his family. Their stories matter, but we rarely hear them. After all, it's easier to ignore suffering when it doesn’t have a face.

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

It is this reason that has inspired me to create a Tumblr blog that addresses this problem. Through seeing and learning about these people that we've so often reduced into numbers, we can fully understand their troubles. And by welcoming them with empathy and kindness rather than cruelty and oppression, we can treat them as the humans that they are.

My goal for blog posts is to do a mix of informative readings, as well as present the stories of real life refugees and immigrants through interviews. As I begin to post, I encourage others to submit their own stories and photos.

For a little bit about me: my name is Dania and I am a student at the University of Indianapolis, studying International Relations. While I was blessed with being born an American citizen, I am Iraqi and my parents are refugees who fled the country following the 2003 invasion of Iraq. I have seen first hand how countries and livelihoods are destroyed, so people face no choice but to flee, even if their home is beautiful and beloved to them. I hope to one day use my degree for a career in International Development and transform third-world countries into beautiful, livable places. Because, in the words of the British-Somali poet Warsan Shire, "Nobody leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark."

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Hey Hey!! I'm wondering if you've read any good Leviathantale x Reader Fics! I've read a few so far and I feel like I can't find any more good ones;; If not, how about Fresh x Readers? I love that funky boy!

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

Below The Ice by boredfan101 (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

A scientific trip should be relatively drama-free. Right? Wrong. Landing in the Arctic for your first expedition you will spend the next six months studying the ice flow of the Arctic, the rest of the team is apparently doing some with Sirens. Catching a deadly predators attention wasn't something you'd planned on doing what's that? you're moving onto the Siren team?! Hell no! Arc 1: the Arctic chapters 1-16 (completed) Arc 2: the aquarium chapters 17-??? _________ Inspired by llamagoddessofficial's Tilikum updates every Sunday NZST

Ship In A Bottle by resurge (Explicit, Complete)

[Written for syst3m_of_3rrors] “Those who ostracize monsters are monsters themselves.” A kind heart and open ears will get you a long way in life.

Davy Jones' Locker by CuddlyCorpse (Explicit, Incomplete)

Sirens are dangerous creatures, but none so dangerous as the fearsome, enormous Kraken. Known to sink ships and consume every individual on board, Kraken are the furies of the sea itself. You are the daughter of a fisherman. Before his untimely demise, he imparted many life lessons onto you, and one of which happened to be 'Never pass up the chance to help someone'. Your decision to help a Kraken as a child will follow you into your adult life. Here's hoping you make it.

[Interactive] Leviathantale x Reader by The_Borb_King_2020 (Not Rated, Complete)

You found yourself in the middle of a storm, you are thrown out of your boat. Your friend Mark no whoever in sight. In your final moments nothing flashes before your eyes just darkness. Expect that you're not dead, you wake up in the middle of the ocean floor with a tail instead of legs. Ps. You'll be choosing but careful some choices have consequences, you decide what mer ya wanna be with' who knows? Maybe all of them

Don't Hold Your Breath by Blood_of_Void (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Rebirth. Always a concept, never truth, other than the whispers of myth within the shadows. And those myths were what drew you to the ocean, the Kraken, sailors lost to the storm of the waters, humans with fish tails for legs, deep sea leviathans, the mystery of the bermuda triangle. Those myths were what got you killed. Water filled your lungs, salty and biting. Your vision went dark. You couldn't breathe. Trapped in the coil of mortality, lost to sea. It was all and accident, cast overboard in the thrashing grasp of a storm. It was so dark, and so cold. But as you awaken, you were allowed to breathe, you not longer needed to close off your lungs from the deathly cold of the ocean. The ocean was always your favorite, after all.

[moonshynecybin]

what are your favorite aus you’ve ever come up with?

GOOD question i've churned out quite a few and i dont think i've ever lumped em together... uh full disclosure a lot of my fav aus were collabs or asks sent by my lovely mutuals :) they rule and are probably my faves so i'll lead with those

FCO: forced coming out au... she's maina @kingofthering and i's baby. marc and vale caught fucking in an alleyway a few months after the sepang fallout and vale comes forward to fake date marc in order to keep him from losing his ride... very much about the violence of fame and vale sort of using his influence with the media to PROTECT marc rather than harm him. a fun time with lots of fraught fake dating your ex situations. visuals here

same age au: elle @lestelledreams dropped this in my lap because shes a genius ! and two fics on ao3 were written about it which is CRAZY. basic premise is how it sounds: marc marquez is born in 1979 and they spend their early years doing a very codependent little rivalry/first love dance that gets cracked the fuck open right around the time of marc's arm injury. sweet and very y2k and very about them being stupid overly-competitve teens with REALLY different vibes and sort of. only being able to identify with each other i love it a lot

kayaking/whitewater au: niche sport forever i think about her all the time. kind of my own way to excise some personal feelings as a girl who quit doing a death sport as a teen and then kind of continued working in the same industry as said deathsport and who's brother's lack of little danger voice in his head wrt to the sport reads very marc to me. also im tortured because i simply think they would be very good at it. marc let me get you in a half-slice hard boat pspspsps... and tbh they just fit the vibe. need vale to meet an old man kayaker its the fookin same

reporter au: yayyyyy i love mess. this one is more about saw trapping these fools im like hmm what would hurt marc a LOT. oh never being able to ride only being able to interact with the sport from the other side of the proverbial glass. what would hurt vale a LOT. oh being in love with a REPORTER. lots of half chances and repressed anger and being kind of damaged so you blow your relationships the fuck up. also a sepang-esque scenario that dials in on marc's vindictive streak through it all which i enjoy. my wife is a bitch.

teen mom au: marc with a liddle baby. vale being kind of psycho. what more could you want

bridgerton au: their weird older sibling slay and repressed freak ass horny selves. thank you.

proximity au and emotional bond transference: theres a post missing from this tag and i cant find it :( anywayssss if they arent gonna feel empathy towards each other im going to MAKE them as a sort of benevolent god

amnesia au: i think about this one literally all the time. time travel too its like. the fantasy of erasing their past. for BOTH of them. reset button. but the thing is you CANT... and maybe you dont even WANT to.... also a marc saw trap bc SO much has changed for him…

fantasy au: i think marc would look hot in a doublet and the academy guys as a sort of. fail knights of the roundtable is good 2 me. fun exploration of marc and injury in many ways just add some swords and class dynamics

anastasia au: one of the OGs. don bluth animation.....

threesome au: :3333 lets get nasty.. actually theres two :3

[verfound]

FIC: "Still You" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

Read on Ao3

Prompt 61: “Look, I know I don’t deserve a second chance.  But I’m hoping you’ll let me have one anyway.”

The Liberty had never felt so…imposing before.

Everything felt imposing just then, though.

The city felt like it was growing up around her, higher and higher until every bright and beautiful and good thing was blotted out by cold and hard and dark.

She didn’t usually have this much trouble shaking akuma effects.

It…had been a long time since one had gotten to her like this.

But being trapped in that dream…in that nightmare…it had been too much.

She could take a lot of things.  She just…she couldn’t take that.

And as she broke through the buildings and onto the walk along the Seine, as the familiar barge came into view with its bright and chaotic clash of colors – with that stupid face she used to think had been painted on to scare police away until Luka had told her otherwise grinning back at her – she felt her throat tighten again.  Her feet slowed to a stop just shy of the gangway, and she found herself staring up at the boat like…like…

He would be there.

He had to be there.

He almost always was – he definitely was, when she needed him.

…and she needed him now.

So…why did she feel like he’d be gone?

It’s just the akuma, she reminded herself.  It’s just a bad dream.

Luka wouldn’t say those things.

Luka would never…Luka loves you.

…loved.  He had loved her.  Back before he’d come back, before he’d left the first time.  Before she’d broken his heart and made him go.

How could she possibly hope he would still be there, waiting for her now?

She started running again, blindly – barely aware of the startled shout of the Captain as she burst past her.  Barely aware of anything beyond getting below, through the galley, past the door and to…

“Marinette?”

He was there.

She crashed into him, her arms wrapping tight around him and her head burrowing against his chest as she knocked them back.  He fell onto his bed, his arms immediately coming up to hold her close as she openly wept into his shirt.  If she had bothered looking up – if she had been able to see through her tears – she would have seen the baffled expression on his face, but all she was really aware of was the warmth of him beneath her, the security she felt with his arms around her, the peace that fought to sink its way in through her panic.

“Shhh, shhh, melody, it’s all right,” he murmured, a hand rubbing up and down her back.  He didn’t ask what had happened – of course he didn’t.  He had probably seen the akuma alert.  Even if he hadn’t been there for the battle, he had to have known.  “It’s over.  It wasn’t real.”

“It could be,” she gasped, her fist tightening in his shirt.  “It should be.”

He didn’t press for more.

He never did.

He was too good like that.

“…I can’t do this anymore, Luka,” she croaked, shaking her head.

“Do what, Marinette?” he asked, his voice too soft and kind for how horrible she felt.

“I can’t love you anymore,” she choked out.  She was dimly aware of him…tensing.  Freezing?  Beneath her.  His hand on her back was suddenly too still, and it felt like even his breathing had slowed.  She groaned and pushed her face against his chest.  “Not when you don’t know.  And even if you do know.  It’s unfair to you.  You deserve so much better, and I know I ruined us.  I know I ruined it all, and I don’t deserve a second chance, but I want one, Luka.  I want you.  I want –”

…she was hit by a sudden feeling of vertigo, like the akuma had grabbed her again and was hurtling her into another reality – only it couldn’t have been the akuma, because nothing good ever came from akumas, and this…this…

Luka had both pushed her away and pulled her up, rolling them until he was pressing her back into his bed as he kissed her senseless – or tried to.  And she just laid there, staring at him with wide eyes, as he held her face in his hands and gently coaxed her mouth to move with his and…her eyes were just starting to close as he started to pull away, but she wasn’t ready for him to pull away yet.  She reached up to pull him back, her hands twisting in his hair as she dragged his mouth back to hers, and oh, that was better…

She had kissed people before.

Most of them had been…not exactly her choice.  Usually because of an akuma.  Because she had to – never because she wanted to.

…she had never kissed Luka before.

And if this was what kissing Luka was like…

“No,” she gasped when he tried to pull away again.  His chuckle was warm and filled up her insides, like honey in her favorite tea.  His nose brushed against her cheek, and she whined as she tried to pull his mouth back to hers.  She wasn’t ready yet – she wasn’t done with him yet.

“No?” he asked, his voice somehow lower than that damn chuckle.  She squirmed beneath him, sighing when his lips pressed against her cheek.

“I mean yes,” she huffed, tugging his hair.  She opened her eyes to look up at him, a pout definitely on her face, and oh the way he was looking at her…she felt…gooey.  “I…please don’t stop?”

“…never,” he whispered, kissing her again.  He was practically beaming at her when he pulled back.  “I have no idea what the hell that akuma did, but thank God.”

“…what?” she asked, blinking up at him.  He shook his head, his smile slipping.

“No, not…I mean.  Not that it scared you like that – that’s not ok,” he said, leaning his forehead on hers.  “But…it got you here.  It made you say that.  It…yes, Marinette.  Hell yes.”

“…yes?” she asked, uncertain.  Just uncertain enough that he apparently decided he needed to kiss her again to chase it away.

“Hell.  Yes,” he said, emphasizing each word with a kiss.  “Marinette…you crazy, wonderful, absolutely insane girl…”

He dropped to the bed beside her with a sigh, curling his arm around her to gather her to his chest.  He kissed her again, and then once more.  She hoped that meant he was enjoying kissing her as much as she was enjoying kissing him.

“You can have all my second chances,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers as his hand traced absent lines along her back.  “And then some.”

“…forever?” she asked, peeking up at him.  His smile was so…so…stupid.

She loved it.

She loved him.

“Forever,” he promised, pulling her back to him.

The Liberty suddenly didn’t feel so imposing anymore, once again a symbol of everything that was bright and beautiful and good in her world.