#and finally stone ocean happened

[raideo]

I feel like my fucking heart is going to explode jesus christ....

that last mp100 episode... oh my god absolutely gut wrenching had me dissociating like holy fuck then I get on twitter to scream about it and jOJOLANDS IS ANNOUNCED TO START ON FEBRUARY 17th!?!?!??????

jesus fucking shit christ

[thelastunison]

Jojo characters when someone tells them they smell bad and the slight tinge of anger they feel courses through their nervous system to the ground in form of electric energy which then gets transferred through kilometres of ground until it finds a group of random hikers who happen to have wet shoes and said hikers proceed to beat the shit out of each other in the most brutal way possible because the electricity activated their fight or flight response

[kamaluhkhan]

anti-curse

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader

summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.

warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3

when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.

given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.

archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.

so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 

“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”

the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.

that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.

you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 

if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 

you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 

“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”

the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”

"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 

percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”

leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.

you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.

“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”

“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.

“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”

“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.

"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.

"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.

"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."

"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.

"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"

you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."

"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."

"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.

"that's...that's different."

"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"

you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.

"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.

"then what did you mean?"

percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”

“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”

percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 

“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.

“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 

her conclusion makes you freeze.

demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 

what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.

you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.

you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?

either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.

without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 

“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.

[masatos-wig]

//jjba stone ocean pt 3 spoilers

[peachesofteal]

“You dropped this.”

You whirl on a dime, legs twisting together and rolling you off balance at the last second, the stranger’s hand shooting out to try to steady you before you catch yourself. “Alright little love?” Powder blue eyes hold you tight, some sort of virose thrall bearing down into your temples, rooting around in the matter between your ears.

“I’m fine.” You manage, but the words lack conviction. Long fingers dig in the soft spirals of your brain, looking for something, picking and pulling.

“Lookin’ a bit peckish there, sure you’re alright?” All you can manage is a nod, one foot sliding behind the other, placing you firmly out of reach.

“I’m fine.” The two words are all you can manage, still trying to escape the trance, the dark tug behind your ribs. Long silence plays out, and with a closer look, you register him fully. Tall. Broad. Shoulders wide enough to close in around you, green jacket faded into sun parched moss. It wouldn’t button around his chest, the waffle henley beneath doing you no favors by the way it tapers to his belt, a strong jaw cloaked by a swath of beard and moustache.

Older than you, stronger than you, an astral man amidst a city of depravity.

Step closer.

A storm cracks outside, thunder rattling the windows, your vision tunneling inside the market, people doing their shopping ebbing around you, a rock in water, stalls and their goods fading into the distance.

The only thing you can see is this stranger and his bright blue eyes. “Thanks,” you croak, knuckles tense on the strap of your bag, net of spilled oranges now safely tucked inside the canvas. When did that happen? Your smile is forced, seasick though the ground is solid beneath you, and when the eye contact breaks to flicker over your shoulder, you jolt back to your sense, and turn away.

The blue eyes stay with you all the way home, into your flat, through the night. You think about them as you cook yourself dinner, as you pour yourself a too generous glass of wine. You feel them as you curl up on the couch, malignant presence lingering just outside your window.

It’s only once you undress and slip under your blankets that you finally feel a semblance of peace, as if the gaze has moved on, the undying focus abated in a sliver of moonlight.

Your dreams are filled with blood.

An oil slick across an ocean, too vast to know where it ends and begins, you fight to keep your head above water, legs kicking frivolously in the dark, terror tight around your throat, horror lurking on the outside of your mind. Thalassophobia renders you almost useless, the panic just enough to keep the drowning at bay.

Can you die in a dream?

A hand appears from nowhere, and you cling to it, wailing and gasping until you’re pulled ashore, laid flat on your back against black stone sand.

“Alright little love?” Him. The same eyes peer down, shining like the sun, chasing away the darkness settled in around you. He stuns you.

“Y-yeah.” He’s close enough cigar smoke permeates your air, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt like a lifejacket. It takes a moment, a second of realization-

You’re covered in blood. Hands, feet, forearms, face. It coats your lips, iron and earth in your nose, soaked all the way to your lungs. Heavier than tar, slicked to your windpipe, drowning your beating heart in ichor.

“Oh god, oh my god, what- what is this, what is this-“ You’ve never heard your own voice at this pitch, shrill, piercing, the sound of someone crying, the sound of someone freefalling.

That can’t be you, can it?

“Easy now.” He holds you by the shoulders. The sun and moon cycle overhead, light and darkness rotating, disorienting you further, a whimper crawling from your throat. “Shhh, I know, I know,” he rubs your temple, thumb stained ruby red, and then lifts it to his mouth, lips curled into a devilish smile, “knew you’d be perfect f’me.” The ground begins to shake, the sky splitting apart, white tendrils snaking across the sea to your ankles, and he frown, disappointment lingering in the lines of his face. The rough scrape of his beard presses to your cheek with a kiss, and he nestles a coin into the palm of your hand, the dream turning opaque before disappearing completely, your eyes opening to ceiling of your bedroom.

Just a dream, you remind yourself throughout the day. Just a dream, though it’s nearly impossible to keep your mind from wandering, remembering, tasting the salt of the ichor like it’s still fresh on your tongue.

“Hey!” Your coworker snaps her fingers, alarm flashing across her face. “Are you okay? You look… sick.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Maybe you should call it a day. Seriously, you look like death.” Your agreement is weak as she practically shoves you out the door. “Go home and take a nap or something.”

“Hello again.” Your heart jolts, battering against your bones in a frantic beat. “No need to be scared.” You blink. “I’m John… from the market yesterday? You dropped your oranges?”

“John.” Your tongue ties around his name, and though its polite to give yours, you can’t force it out. His brow furrows.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Good sense and manners appear, spurred on by years of chastising by your mother, and you grimace.

“Oh. Sorry. I’m a bit under the weather.” He looms ahead of you, blocking a portion of the sidewalk.

“Headed home then?” You nod. “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh, no. That’s not necessary.” He gives you a sharp look, the dispel to an argument, razored, jagged teeth closing in around your attempt at a refusal, and pulls at your wrist, thumb holding steady over your pulse point, heart rate slowing from a panic to a lull.

Your head hangs, and you slump, exhaustion tugging your limbs down towards the ground. The path doesn’t split before you, no way to choose one way or another, hedgerows too tall to peer over, lost and unable to discern the way. Your hands find your pockets, and brush across something unfamiliar and cool.

A coin.

Darkness closes in around you-

And the word goes black.

You wake in a bed.

Not your bed.

It’s big, wide enough your legs and arms spread out with touching the edge of the mattress. The sheets are fine, cotton you could never afford, threads delicate, spun silk. Luxury. A far cry from your one-bedroom flat.

“There you are.” Time jolts, bringing you into the present with startling speed, a hand clasping over your mouth before you can release a scream. “No need for that.”

“John?” You mumble into his palm. Your head is natant, woozy with the rocking, feet scrambling on a ship far away, desperate to hold tight to a rail, a lifeline, a moment of balance in a violent storm. “I’m gonna be sick.”

There’s a haunting, familiar taste on your lips and you lick them over and over, the tip of an iceberg, a memory just barely visible above placid water. You grasp at it, tug yourself closer, swallow the nostalgia until it rears its head-

Blood.

Horror wraps an unforgiving fist around your throat.

“What-“

“Welcome home.” What? Your feet tangle in the sheets, a net around your ankles. His big, warm hand flattens over your chest, blue gaze honing in, the predator ready to devour his prey. “Can hear your heart, little love.”

“This isn’t my h-home.”

“It is now.” He’s casual, leaning by your hip, now stroking deft fingers over your ribs. “This is my home, and now it’s yours too. You don’t need to worry, you’ll be well cared for.” The cold green sick feeling surges, and you roll over to the side of the mattress, spewing the contents of your stomach onto polished hardwood floors.

It’s not bile, or water, or even food.

It’s red. Dark red, dripping off your lips like rain, flooding the grooves beneath you. He rubs your back like you’re a child who needs soothing, grip tight on your arm when you try to rip away.

“It won’t always be like this,” he coos, clucking his tongue in sympathy, “the taste is difficult to get used to.”

“The taste of what?”

“Blood.”

[makingqueerhistory]

Spooky Queer Books

Since spooky season is starting, I thought I would share a list of my favourite queer books that are great for this time of year.

Some of these links are affiliate links.

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror

Joe Vallese

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes--such as the circumspect and resilient "final girl," body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet--spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.It Came from the Closet features twenty-five essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer's Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.

Into the Drowning Deep

Mira Grant

The ocean is home to many myths, But some are deadly... Seven years ago the Atargatis set off on a voyage to the Mariana Trench to film a mockumentary bringing to life ancient sea creatures of legend. It was lost at sea with all hands. Some have called it a hoax; others have called it a tragedy. Now a new crew has been assembled. But this time they're not out to entertain. Some seek to validate their life's work. Some seek the greatest hunt of all. Some seek the truth. But for the ambitious young scientist Victoria Stewart this is a voyage to uncover the fate of the sister she lost. Whatever the truth may be, it will only be found below the waves. But the secrets of the deep come with a price.

The Devouring Gray

C. L. Herman

After her sister's death, seventeen-year-old Violet Saunders finds herself dragged to Four Paths, New York. Violet may be a newcomer, but she soon learns her mother isn't: They belong to one of the revered founding families of the town, where stone bells hang above every doorway and danger lurks in the depths of the woods. Justin Hawthorne's bloodline has protected Four Paths for generations from the Gray--a lifeless dimension that imprisons a brutal monster. After Justin fails to inherit his family's powers, his mother is determined to keep this humiliation a secret. But Justin can't let go of the future he was promised and the town he swore to protect. Ever since Harper Carlisle lost her hand to an accident that left her stranded in the Gray for days, she has vowed revenge on the person who abandoned her: Justin Hawthorne. There are ripples of dissent in Four Paths, and Harper seizes an opportunity to take down the Hawthornes and change her destiny--to what extent, even she doesn't yet know. The Gray is growing stronger every day, and its victims are piling up. When Violet accidentally unleashes the monster, all three must band together with the other Founders to unearth the dark truths behind their families' abilities...before the Gray devours them all.

Tell Me I'm Worthless

Alison Rumfitt

Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends, Ila and Hannah. Since then, Alice's life has spiraled. She lives a haunted existence, selling videos of herself for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. Memories of that night torment Alice, but when Ila asks her to return to the House, to go past the KEEP OUT sign and over the sick earth where teenagers dare each other to venture, Alice knows she must go. Together, Alice and Ila must face the horrors that happened there, must pull themselves apart from the inside out, put their differences aside, and try to rescue Hannah, whom the House has chosen to make its own. Cutting, disruptive, and darkly funny, Tell Me I'm Worthless is a vital work of trans fiction that examines the devastating effects of trauma and how fascism makes us destroy ourselves and each other.

[strwberri-milk]

April Showers

Rafayel x Reader || Fluff, Cuddling || 1 112 words

In which the two of you indulge in some cuddles in the rain.

You thought you were used to all of Rafayel’s little eccentricities by now. As much as you loved him you could never determine which ones were from his upbringing as a Lumerian, or the fact that he’s rich beyond your wildest imagination with the self control of a toddler on a sugar high.

He’d been quite adamant for the last little while that you not wander out too far on his beachfront property. You’d seen the construction crews coming and going for quite some time now so you assumed that he was in the middle of some new art installation as per usual. You knew not to question his inspiration for it came as easily as it went.

Today you’d turned up at his house despite the pouring rain, Rafayel’s frenzied texts begging for your attention once more. It’s standard procedure – he acts like he’s about to drown without you being near him and then is perfectly fine once you’re there. You never mind, you never did. You liked having his attention on you, knowing that it’s a hot commodity.

“Rafa?” you call out to the empty house.

It’s darker than usual. Even if he was working with his studio’s lights off, you’d be able to find some source of light near a wet canvas. Rafayel always made sure that his colours were as accurate as possible. You ignore the rise of anxiety in your chest at the lack of his response, deciding to up the ante.

“Babe? Honey? Sweetheart? Love of my life?”

Usually, the sweeter your nicknames were for him meant he’d come barrelling down the hallway and bowl you over with the weight of his body. Now, no matter how hard you listen you can’t even hear the sound of his breath, deciding to brave the weather and step outside to see if he was on the beach.

Strangely enough, it seems whatever construction was being done was finished. You thought that the trucks were missing from his driveway due to the weather but the pristine sand and building you didn’t recognise proved differently. Rafayel wasn’t an architect as far as you were concerned so you doubt that this was meant for an exhibition of his, cursing his inability to buy umbrellas and braving the torrential downpour to head towards the marble pillars.

As you approach, you can’t help but be taken aback by the precision carved into the surface. Even if he didn’t construct it with his own two hands you knew that it had his artistry all over it, delicate patterns and sculptures attached to the smooth stone by him. You’re so enraptured by the works of art that you barely notice the lump laying on the cushioned space of the sunken gazebo.

Rafayel lays in the newly built space, listening to the sound of the rain and awaiting his knight in shining armour to come keep him company. He jolts a little as you slide in next to him having not heard you finally arrive at his side. His smile is bright enough to part the clouds for a moment, pulling you into his side and pressing a kiss to your wet cheek.

“You’re drenched. How did that happen?” he asks, your breaths mingling in the shared space.

“You were missing. I had to come find you and unfortunately, I can’t control the weather. What is this anyway? I didn’t know you were one for backyard barbeque sessions,” you tease, putting a cold arm around his waist.

“It’s a gazebo. I designed it and had it built. Thankfully they finished it early so now I get to enjoy it in the rain.”

“You’re so weird. Nobody looks forward to sitting in the rain like you do,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“I told you already,” he says hotly without any ill will. “It doesn’t rain in the ocean. I’ll never get sick of the way it sounds, how I’ll never be able to capture it on camera, the way it feels on my skin. Just admit that you take it for granted and move on.”

“I do not take it for granted. I’m allowed to be grumpy right now anyway – I’m all cold and wet!”

Rafayel does feel a little bad for not warning you and you know he does by the shedding of his cardigan before he slowly peels off your wet shirt. You don’t mind the gesture, letting him button the soft fabric around your upper body as he pulls you back into his chest. He reaches blindly until finally locating a dry towel hidden in a compartment near the two of you, drying off your hair and draping it over your legs with a soft apology.

“I forgot to tell you to bring an umbrella. I got so lost in the sound of the rain that would have fallen asleep were it not for you sneaking into here next to me.”

You can’t be mad at him anyway, not when his voice takes on that wistful tone and you see the lost look in his eyes. He liked to run circles around you, pretend that he’s an open book when really, you’d only begun to scratch the surface of the man he is, not the one he wanted you to see. It evokes a sense of melancholy in you, burying your face in his neck and losing yourself in his presence.

“It’s alright. I’m not actually all that mad at you,” you reassure regardless, finally feeling the chilling bite of the rain ebb away.

“It’s romantic. Laying here with you and listening to the rain. If I didn’t already, I totally would have fallen in love with you.”

His soft laughter makes your heart flutter. You look up to meet his lavender-blue eyes bright with mirth as he gently noses against your cheek.

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind the next time we’re arguing,” he says playfully.

Normally, storms would make you nervous. The only thing that made you capable of driving over in the first place was the knowledge that Rafayel would be here to help sooth your anxiety. The thunder and lightning did nothing to help your already anxious mind from going a mile a minute but here in his arms, none of that mattered.

You rest your ear on his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat amongst the scattered rain soothe you into a well needed sleep. Rafayel looks down at you affectionately when he realises you’ve gone limp on him. His hand rests by your ear, pinky gently stroking your cheek as he presses a kiss on the top of your head.

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - On the night of a record storm, Shanda Bracken sneaks into the land between the Brackens and the Blackwoods known as the Borderlands. Hoping to do routine reconnaissance she gets more than she bargained for when the guard on duty is the Blackwood heir himself.

Warnings - fem!reader, mentions of violence, fighting, suspense, female rage, strained family dynamics, complicated relationships, adult language, period typical misogyny, not cannon compliant, kieran burton fancast, terminal benji brainrot

Word count - 2.5k

!MinorsDNI!

There will be more!! Bc I am feral.

Pt. 1 of 11 currently

The sound of the wind hammering against the castle walls seemed as if it intended to blow Stone Hedge down. The gods were angry with them but Shanda couldn’t figure a reason for it now. Beyond that, she had plans tonight. Plans that wouldn’t wait for a storm, no matter how great. As she carefully pulled her hood up, she peeked around the ground floor column again. Empty, she’d timed it just right. Quickly she ducked through the room and down the servants staircase descending as fast as she could manage. The kitchens were empty and she did not linger, quietly making her way outside.

The wind threatened to steal the door from her grip when she finally thrust it open. Nearly falling down the steps, she managed to firmly shut the door. Gazing out at the darkened yard, lightning flashed for a moment illuminating the path ahead. Shanda moved with haste, if her father caught her out here again… It was best not to think about that. The only reason she’d gotten this shot was thanks to her brother. Martyn was on guard tonight and had agreed to look the other way as it were.

Shanda was on her way to the borderlands. It was stupid, reckless and irresponsible behavior. That was undoubtedly true, however the reward was worth the risk in her mind. Her father happened to disagree with that sentiment but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. She’d been on these missions to the borderlands three times prior, always sneaking up behind Blackwood guards and listening to their private conversations. They were all terrible gossips and it didn’t take long for them to start disclosing secrets. She wasn’t stupid, she was quiet and didn’t stick around long. Choosing different spots to spy on each time she came and ensuring she left no tracks to be followed back by. That’s why the approaching storm was perfect. She’d show up, steal some intel and let the rain wash all of her tracks away.

Outside of the gates in the free and clear, Shanda made her way into the dense, tall grass that acted as an excellent cover. She’d made sure to wear dark wash colors and opted for trousers under her thick cloak. The night was silent, with all of the animals hiding away from the incoming storm, the only sound came from the howling winds blowing across the ocean of grass she hid in. The moon was obscured by clouds and she had to stop often to squint into the distance to orient herself. But before long she could hear the blackwood guards' voices carried by the winds.

“… declare for the new ki…” “It won’t matter will it? Not if… certainly a c… olent swine!…”

Shanda frowned as she approached as far as she dared. The wind was working against her it seemed. There were two guards, both unremarkable to her. Black haired, tall, enemies. The only thing she wanted was a better chance at hearing them. They sat close together, the broader one closest to her had his back positioned towards her, while she could see the profile of the smaller man. He appeared older, and wore a sour look on his face. He seemed to be the one doing most of the speaking.

“… ell him, I will. He’s the lord of… crimes against us in our own land, it doesn’t b…”

She strained to hear against the roar of the leaves shivering in their branches as the wind picked up again and the voices rose louder in it.

“Get a grip! And don’t bother me about it anymore!”

She crouched low and lay still when the older man abruptly got up and gazed over at the field where she lay hidden before storming away. She ducked back into the grass, hand poised on a borrowed dagger. Her heart was racing but after a few moments of nothing she carefully peeked back out. The younger man sat alone now still, with his head in his hands. She waited for a good thirty minutes in silence. Then she weighed her options. She hadn’t gotten much of anything and it had taken a lot to get back out here. Going back now was unsatisfactory. On the other hand, it didn’t seem like the guard was sending a replacement and the lone man apparently didn’t feel like talking to himself anytime soon. She resolved to wait a while longer when the rain started.

At first it was just a bit of cold hard rain pelting down at her but it quickly turned into a deluge unlike any she’d ever seen. All other thoughts flew out of her mind in the present moment except getting out of the rain. The problem was she kept slipping, caught in a tangle of mud and grass. A clap of thunder rang out so loud she jumped, nearly crying out in fear. Half drowning as she looked up, she noticed the fire put out and the guard missing.

“Shit.” Her eyes scanned all around her but it was a pointless exercise. She couldn’t see anything from the sheer amount of water in her eyes, the world a big muddy blob as her vision clouded over.

“Come on.” She commanded herself, standing and making a run for it. That is to say she tried to run, the mess of weeds and mud wrapped around her legs made her slip. The fall knocked the breath out of her and she lay there stunned, watching the rain fall for a moment gathering the mental strength to try again. She never did though, the knife in the ground beside her head inches from her eye was the motivating factor.

Moving with a deftness she hadn’t possessed moments before, she was up, grip tight on her own weapon as she moved to strike. Her assailant was quick and it was sheer luck he hadn’t struck true on the first blow. Shanda took care to stay out of his attack range. Using their height differences to her advantage, she would duck in and slice. But she hasn't made contact even once. The rain is so thick it's suffocating and it becomes increasingly more clear that she is outmatched here.

“Fucking spy! I’ll kill you.” His voice is rough but carries over the rain.

She has no doubt he means it, the Blackwood’s are all brutes. She tries to get a good look at him, but he snags her cloak and a struggle ensues. His strength doubles her own and she decides instantly to cut the fabric. A clap of thunder rings out like an explosion, shaking the ground beneath them. Or is it him shaking her? The last thread snaps and she’s free again. This time she doesn’t waste a second before turning heel and running. There’s a league of borderlands between her and home, the run is agony.

Worst of all, the guard has set upon chasing her screaming obscenities the entire way. If she weren’t terrified she would commend his lung capacity . Hers was waning and the ground grew softer and softer as they went. She sprints hard aiming for the clutch of trees approaching. She can’t keep this pace up for much longer, her ankle screamed from the earlier fall and her breath is ragged. She doesn’t slow as she enters the cover of the canopy. It’s quieter here and she tries to move with care aware her pursuer is still there. She can now make out his taunts.

“Coward! Be a man. Stop hiding like a babe.”

“Did the rain waterlog your mind? Or are all spies brazen fools?”

Panting behind a tree she rested for a second before darting behind another. It would be worse for him to discover she couldn’t man up and fight him. She berated herself for messing up, for staying when she should have left. She should've called it early and packed up when the first guard left. Better yet, if she hadn’t come at all like her father had commanded. Heaving gasps of air, soaked to the bone in the pitch darkness probably wasn’t the time to have second thoughts though.

It was then she acknowledged how quiet it was, the rain muffled by the trees was distant. Hopefully it was dying down while she rested but the mongrel hunting her had gone silent. And that did not bode well for her she knew. Now she moved as delicately as possible, working to disturb no branch or leaf as she crept through the trees. It was impossibly dark and it was memory alone that guided her forward. Shanda had been on several hunts with her brothers, who were always sneaking her places she shouldn’t be. She hadn’t cared much for it, lots of waiting. Now her heart was pounding so hard it was difficult to hear anything else. She had to pause, coming to a complete stop to strain her ears for any noise. Each time she paused her heart beat grew faster til she was sure she would faint.

When the edge of the trees finally appeared she could have weeped as she leapt to exit. A hard jerk from behind pulled her up short. She audibly choked as her assailant dragged her backwards into the trees once more by her hood. She clawed at her cloak trying to undo the clasp. Finally, he released her and she flailed gasping again for air.

She used the movement to grab her knife.

“None of that.” He was quicker than her this time, using the back of his own knife he hit her hand so hard she cried out and dropped it. He then snaked one arm around the middle of her and the other held the blade at her throat. Her back pressed against the front of him, she didn’t dare breathe.

“Now, care to tell me why a fair maiden like you is out this time of night, sneaking around the borderlands no less?” His tone was mocking, arrogant and condescending. It made her blood boil. She desperately tried to think of a way out of this situation that didn’t end with her death but she was utterly unable to form a coherent thought. Her only advantage was that she wore no sign of her house.

“Care to get your filthy fucking hands off of me?” She spat as a way of answer.

He burst out laughing at her reply, the sound rumbling through her own chest deep and heavy. The knife at her neck never moved an inch during and that was scarier to her than if he’d nicked her. He was careful, controlled. He’d known exactly where she was going to exit the trees from and had circled around to cut her off. And now he was laughing at her.

“Such foul language but no fouler than the crime you’ve committed.”

“What crime?” She scoffed, wanting to twist out of his hold.

His answer was inconsequential to her, she was trying to find a way to knock the knife out of his hand. She could see her own knife on the ground a few feet away. If she could manage to get his knife away from him then -

“Attacking the heir of Raventree of course. Attempted murder is a nasty crime. Not to mention the spying and if I’m not mistaken a breach of the recent peace treaty.”

Her thoughts froze along with all of the blood inside of her body. Nameless Blackwood guard number whatever was one thing, but the heir of Raventree? This wouldn’t just reach her father, it would reach Riverrun. Lord Grover Tully would punt the issue down to Elmo and the gods only know what would happen there. A man known for mischief, it sent a shudder through her. Considering this would be the third conflict in a moon's turn it wasn’t likely to be a light punishment. She had well and truly stepped in it now.

“Preposterous, are you going to admit to a crowd that I nearly bested you? Sad look for a sad house, I suppose it works.”

“I did say attempted.” He pushed the blade harder against her throat, causing her to push further back into him to avoid it.

“If anything you’ve attempted harm here, not me. I was minding my own business, when you attacked me.”

“Minding my business you mean. We knew someone was sneaking in to spy on us. Never dreamed it was a woman, tracks were covered too well.”

Shanda aggressively rolled her eyes at that.

“I wasn’t minding your anything, now unhand me and we can forget this entire ordeal.” She said suddenly very tired.

“Afraid I can’t do that darling, you’re a wanted criminal and my chance to win the argument you saw earlier.”

“You knew the whole time?” Her tone was incredulous and her hope for escape was waning by the moment.

“The tracks were covered well, but not well enough. Why do you think I was down there? The guards were disputing over your existence.”

If only she hadn't been caught! She could’ve been the Bracken ghost wreaking havoc on dumb guards. Now she made a deliberate grab for his sword. It was a stupid move, she couldn’t hope to pull it from its scabbard.

“Quit that, what are you…”

She was right in her assessment that it would distract him though and when his grip loosened she sprung into action. First she elbowed him as hard as possible in the chest, and slammed her head back into her captors. It should've been enough to make any man let go of her but the Blackwood heir didn’t budge. It was only when twisting and writhing away from him she managed to knee him hard in the groin that he fully let go of her. She grabbed her knife off the ground as his arms wrapped back around her, pulling her up. This time she made contact, a long slash traveling up his shoulder. When he gasped in pain, she’d heaved with all her might and tipped him off balance using her leg as lever.

They both fell into the thick mud underneath them. Legs and arms wrapped and fought against each other in a web so complicated she couldn’t separate herself from her assailant. She’d also lost her knife in the struggle and in an underhanded move, freed herself by rubbing mud in his eyes. She knew if he got his arms around her again it was over. She jumped to her feet and took off again, bursting through the trees and back into the pounding rain which had been patiently waiting for her. In the distance she heard a voice rise up.

“Make it your last!”

She had no intention of stopping now. When the stakes were so high and the reward so tantalizing. The heir on guard duty, maybe her father might see reason after all for a borderlands scout.

Pt.2

[moonfawnx]

Whispers of our past

Rhysand x Celine (oc)

Prologue

Celine stared at the wall, waiting.

Waiting for Rhys to come back to her.

Was he playing some kind of sick jokes?

It had been a week ago when she’d last seen him. When he’d made love to her all night, whispering promises on her skin, promises of their future.

She held him through the night, stroking his hair and wings softly, sharing her love to him.

He played with her black hair, and complimented her eyes, commenting ominously how they reminded him of oceans during night, due to their deep blue colour.

They had been seeing each other for nearly five years. Five years- she had met his family in the first few months and oh how she adored all of them. Her playful jokes with Cassian, her mutual calmness with Azriel allowed them to bond, her shared interests with Moriggan and her witty responses that amused Amren.

She was his peace. His happiness, his comfort. She’d bonded so well with his family, he couldn’t wait to have her sit on a throne beside him, rule with him and spend the rest of his life with her.

But for now, they chose a more peaceful life.

They were staying at a cottage he purchased, on the outsides of Velaris, as it provided a sense of freedom and calmness he hadn’t experienced anywhere else.

Three weeks ago, he had finally done it. He had taken her on a dinner date, and a flight after which landed them on the top of the tallest mountain there, granting them a perfect view of the stars and galaxy. and right there, the high lord went on one knee, and pulled out a small black box, with a shiny ring inside.

The stone, was the prettiest Celine had ever laid her eyes on, as he explained that he’d had it custom made for her, as none he had found seemed perfect enough for her.

She said yes, and then she was in his arms, tears in her eyes as she kissed him beneath the stars.

For the weeks after the proposal, he was with her every single night, tangled in the sheets together, whispering together about their love.

And then a week ago, whilst they were together again, he left and never came back.

He had been laying on her bed, sheepishly smiling at her while she rubbed body cream on her skin, right after they showered together. And as she turned towards him and smiled back, his smile faltered as his eyes widened.

He quickly got up, muttering some excuses about how he had court meetings he had forgotten about, and then vanished into air.

Celine, of course, was understandably confused but figured the high lord would return to her the day after.

But he didn’t.

Not the day after, not two days after, then three and now a week.

Her stress for him grew each day, and by the third day of hearing no word for him, she made her way to Velaris but- the city was gone.

It was as if the earth had swallowed her beautiful home, as she tried to find her way back, to home, to him.

It was then she realised- he shielded the city. From what? From who?

And where was he? Why had he left her? Why had he not contacted her yet?

It was then that she realised that the high lord disregarded her as if she meant nothing to him.

Had he shielded the city from her?

Was that why he abandoned her and never looked back?

As she sat on the couch in the cottage they once shared, a month after Rhysand’s disappearance , that she figured she had to leave.

She packed a bag with her essentials, and some clothing, and then went to her old family home, which she shared with her parents and brother- Matthias, before her parents passed, which lead to both siblings following their own paths.

She winnowed at the house, in the mountains separating winter and autumn courts, and it was after she settled there- and sent a letter to Matthias, who lived at mortal lands with his wife- a kind healer named Elena, as she felt a strong need for their support.

Her brother and his wife arrived two days later, and Celine had finally allowed herself to break down in their arms, as she explained what had happened with Rhys- still looking at her engagement ring on her finger, which she hadn’t found the strength to take off yet.

“Are you sure? Are you sure he doesn’t want you anymore” Matthias asked her, confused since he had known Rhys for all the years he’d been with his sister, and the male seemed to be truly in love with her.

“He left me Mat.” she sobbed “he left, he left, he left.”

Elena and Matthias understood that it was better that they stayed with her through that hard time- and thankfully their old house was big enough for everyone.

In the following week, though, Elena noticed weird behaviour coming from Celine. It was stuff that she excused and blamed to her broken heart- but Elena as a healer knew better than that.

Her sudden mood swings, bone aches and belly pains.

Her growing habit of throwing up every. single. morning.

Her random cravings for food combinations that others would consider repulsing.

Elena knew what all of this meant.

So one night, she approached Celine softly, while she was once again throwing up.

“Celine dear- are you aware of what this-“ she tried but was interrupted.

“please don’t say it” Celine begged, her tired expression and red cheeks evident. “please I- i can’t do this without him”

“You have us” Elena promised “You have me and your brother. I- We promise to be by your side through every step, if you decide to go forward with the pregnancy. The choice is up to you”

Celina started silently crying again, on the first ever acknowledgment of the life growing inside her.

Of the memory she and Rhys had shared.

Of the thoughts that had been haunting her ever since she understood what her morning sickness meant.

Had he known? Was that why he left her? Left them?

She cried more and more as she realised she’d have to go through it on her own and- oh gods.

Each time she and Rhys were intimate, he had his wings wide spread. They hadn’t made love with his wings vanished since before the proposal.

What if the baby had wings.

Would that rip her open?

There was no way she was so damned.

No way she had to endure the pain of Rhys leaving her- only for a few months till their child turned out to be the end of her.

And the months passed and passed.

Celine was so thankful for Elena and Matthias, as they kept true to their word and stayed with her through it all.

Elena, the healer she was, announced that the baby indeed had wings- and pointed out the obvious challenge because of this, but promised ti do her best during birth.

It wasn’t a really happy pregnancy, since she was still mourning the life she was supposed to have with Rhys.

Supposed to love this child, together.

And finally, labor day came.

There were screams, and wails, and broken pleas, as she was ripped open, due to the child’s wings.

There was blood- so, so much of it.

The child was finally out, wailing in the same was its mother was, as she was being stitched by her sister in law.

She remembers her brother’s cries as they nearly lost her. As this nearly cost her life. It was then she’d realised, that even if Rhys did come back one day, she’d never forgive him for this- never forgive him for making her go through all this on her own.

But all her anger vanished as Elena placed a tiny baby boy on her chest.

“Congratulations” she smiled at her “You did great”

“Have you decided on a name for him?” Matthias asked, admiring the baby, who was now in the hands of his mother.

Celine looked down at her son, and finally after months of pain, felt at peace.

“Nyx” tears rolled down her beautiful face.

“His name is Nyx”

~

Taglist: @weekendlusting @sheblogs @nyctophiliiiiaaa

@fanttasttica @byyalady

Finally posted this, I really hope you all like it❤️

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist xx

[yandere-sins]

The Orcas' Tale - Chapter I

Excited to finally start! I haven't written in a while so I felt a little rusty, but I still hope I was able to convey the conflicting feelings that come with meeting these creatures ♥ Enjoy! (Please remember that the polls are only active for a day!)

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Violence & Accidental self-harm, Non-consensual touches, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con/killing of animals/near drowning, Long post

"In fact, you don't want them to think about you at all! Otherwise —ey w—t l— —u ——!"

Straining yourself, you tried to hear what the voice was telling you. A sudden waft of nausea overcame you as you concentrated hard on making out those last, vital words. Your eyes snapped open as pressure squeezed your brain inside your skull, and you barely had time to gasp as your body instinctively threw itself to the side, choking and spitting out water from your lungs and stomach.

Through your blurry vision, you could only see gray. Feeling hadn't returned to your hands to notice the little gravel digging into your palm as you clawed at the stone surface, trying to find hold in your disorientation. Slowly, with every cough you made, the pressure on your head subsided, leaving only a pounding headache and your fight or flight instinct in control of your body while you freed yourself of the wretched water inside the spaces it didn't belong. That was until you finally regained the feeling in your body. The pebbles pressing into your skin, threatening to break it.

The hands on your body, holding you steady.

"This was a stupid idea," an eerily familiar voice sighed, the pressure on your stomach and lower back intensifying. Confused and disorientated, you rocked your head from side to side, trying to see. Trying to find the voice that was different from the one you heard before opening your eyes. But your vision was still blurry, and you couldn't make out anything, even with splashes of color passing your view. 

"It's not stupid just because we have never tried it before," someone else, someone you already knew, hissed, and you tried to remember who it was to no avail. A hand on your collarbones, fingers spreading all over your chest, didn't lock your movements but didn't allow you to fall over either, as they kept you slightly elevated. 

"W-Who…" you sputtered, followed by another cough, another spill of water coming from who-knows-where inside you.

"Urgh, well, it's alive, at least…"

Pressure on your ribs made you fall back on your legs, sitting upright. You were swaying back and forth, worse than you ever had on the ship that transported you out on the North Pacific Ocean for your studies… Right… You'd been working out on the ocean, and then something happened. You couldn't get back to the boat, and they didn't do a headcount before leaving. You'd been left there. For how long? Gulping down spit or water—not sure what was in your mouth at that point—you tried to remember, but your memory was as blurred as your vision. 

Did your crew come back? Were they the ones helping you back to your feet? You should thank them. Had they left you at the mercy of the ocean, who knows if you could have made it long. As much as you loved the deep, blue waters, they were just as risky and unpredictable as any other nature-related job. Accidents happened, and you weren't mad you were left behind, but you were still thankful they came back and saved you. 

Slowly, taking the time to adjust yourself, you turned around, the hands allowing you the room to move as you pleased while they stayed ready on standby if you fell. Focusing your eyes was still hard. The space you were in dimly lit and unfamiliar. But when you lifted your head, squinting your eyes as hard as possible, you could finally concentrate on what was ahead of you. 

Instantly, a cold shiver ran down your spine. 

Your fight or flight mode was still intact as you jumped back from your position, your body slamming into a cold and hard wall of something, your headache briefly making space for other pain before returning full force. You didn't know what to expect, but you expected the familiarity of your kind. Human faces, human bodies, humans.

These were not humans.

It needed the extra blow to your head to jump-start your memories. Memories of the little orange boat you had been stranded on, of unknown voices speaking to you, promising the help you desperately needed. Uncanny figures that intrigued you and eventually lured you to the edge, claws that dug into your clothes as they pulled you where the light couldn't reach. A tongue down your throat that helped you breathe and then… darkness. 

That's right, at the cusp between life and death, you had simply passed out, completely at the mercy of these creatures that now reared out of the water, hands and claws reaching for you from all sides. There was no escaping them, no way out, their black skin glistening in the blue light coming from the walls being the only thing discerning them from the shadows around you. All you could do was close your eyes and wish to wake up. Realize this was a bad dream on a dreadful night. Wake up from it, realizing you left the TV on when you fell asleep, subconsciously listening to horror movies. None of this was real. 

But when the hands wrapped around your ankles, wrists, and shoulders, claws too close to your throat to not fear them slicing it open, webbed fingers both sticky and slick, you realized this was not a dream you could wake up from. Not a nightmare to banish once you opened your eyes again. This was reality. 

It took you a moment to regain this clarity of mind, the hands lifting you away from the hard surface you had slammed into and setting you down on something soft, the fabric almost slippery. They wouldn't let go until you opened your eyes, staring at your left hand as you let it slide through the fur beneath you, knowing the feeling well enough to discern it. "Seal…" you muttered, the softness of it astonishing you at that moment. All the horrors your mind could imagine disappeared with the gentleness and warmth you felt around you, sitting on such precious fur. It soothed some of the shock and weariness that kept you tense and on alert.

"The human likes it," someone cooed, the voice giddy as you heard water splashing alongside it. That finally snapped you back to reality and the situation you were in. Gulping once again, at least there was no more water clogging your throat and airways. Realizing that helped to gain the courage to look up, straight ahead at curious eyes watching you, leaning on the ledge you were seated on, giant bodies hidden halfway inside a pool of water. Every jolt of their muscles caused a small wave to splash against the others next to them, but they didn't mind. Why would they? 

Mermaids. 

You remembered it now all too clearly—their voices, faces, actions. Knowing folklore tales as much as any other human but always denying them to your scientifically driven mind, it was almost laughable you fell for their lures, their promises of help. It was true your options were limited, but it felt like you betrayed yourself by still believing them. Then again, that was the whole thing about mermaids, wasn't it? They were able to lure in even the most experienced and resistant of humans at their whim, to kill and eat them. However, dwelling on your idiocy and not concentrating on the situation at hand wasn't going to help you now, either. 

Watching them for a few seconds, you jumped from their faces one after the other. Orcas, they called themselves, and strangely enough, they looked like it. Like a weird mix of a human and an orca, but you could still see both parts in them and discern either part at a glance. The markings in black and white of an orca, the face and body like a human. Muscles just like a professional athlete, but a tail hidden from sight that you were sure would be exactly like that of an orca. They were decorated in adornments that allowed one to believe they had the same aesthetic needs as humans. Still, their sharp teeth lurked behind their lips, and their fingers ended in claws that reminded you there was just as much animal in this mix. 

Looking away was dangerous but necessary, and luckily, as your gaze panned around the room, they only ever seemed to lean further over the edge, trying to see what you saw, before sinking deeper into the cool water again, wary of your gaze falling on them. Either way, you appreciated their discretion, despite hearing their little clicks and whistles at each other echoing through the space. It wasn't a small room, cave-like and branching off into more carved-out areas filled to the brim with things. But if you remembered the size of these creatures right, they'd have to squeeze together if they all wanted to come sit on the same ledge as you. You found the room to be made of hard, solid stone, a blue, bioluminescent shine of a climbing plant with little bulbous blooms on it, illuminating the cave sparsely as it spread on the cave walls. Part of you would have loved to study this growth, but it wasn't the right time. 

Beneath you was the seal fur, and you tried to ignore the gruesome acts you knew orcas did to these creatures, thanking it silently for softening the spot you sat on. But now that you had time to look at the splashes of color from before, you noticed they were fabrics hung from the walls. Sails and flags mingled with more furs. Crates, both wood and metal, some more decayed than others, stood off to the side, but you also spotted some out-of-place items like golden goblets and jewels strewn about. 

"Where… Where are we?" you asked warily, feeling a sense of dread as you couldn't find a discernable exit or connection to the outside, like a window or door. You had a bad feeling about this, but at this point, it came as no surprise that this situation didn't seem to get better even after you accepted this as reality. 

"In our–"

"Home!"

"This is our cave!"

It was a desynchronized answer, but it did the trick. Though that didn't explain where exactly you were, just their connection to this place. Still, scanning the ledge you sat on, you found three sections laid out with fabrics and furs, the stone ground creating gaps between them. Considering the size of these creatures, it might be a squeeze for all of them to fit, but it did look like the three had their beds laid out.

The sound of excessive splashing made your head whip forward, the merman in the middle lifting himself out of the water and on top of the ledge. It was the first good look you got at any of their bodies, and you had been correct with all your assumptions about them. He had to crawl on his hands to get the massive part of his upper tail over the edge, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, it looked almost like a natural movement as he put himself in a seated position. You were already cowering backwards, not needing to accommodate the creature, but feeling less safe now that it was out of the water. 

But before you knew it, his hand reached for your ankle. 

The feeling of having to cave in to someone else's demands was terrifying, choking you with fear of the unknown especially considering it was a monster you were dealing with. But even without you trying to scoot away, your leg was painfully stretched as the merman began pulling you back closer toward him. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked. You were surprised about the concern he voiced, thinking about how contradictory it was to be given kind thoughts while you felt like prey in their eyes. 

"Yeah…" you mumbled, twisting your ankle carefully, inconspicuously, hoping he might be enticed to let go. Instead, this seemed to have been the magic word, the orca on the right jumping out of the water with much more force and less elegance than the one in the middle, landing belly down on the ledge and immediately reaching for your arm. "Finally!" he rejoiced, squeezing and pulling at your underarm, both actions reckless and painful. Now you had two limbs of yours being yanked, and the gaze you shot the last merman of the three was almost panicked as he sat up on the ledge as well, back facing you, but his eyes on your free left leg. With a careful hand, he let his fingers graze over your skin, jolting away as goosebumps spread in the wake of his touch. 

Their hands were a horror in themselves. Webbed fingers sticking to you and yet sliding up and down your skin, unable to find hold unless pressure was applied. These creatures had no sense of gentleness, probably used to very different forms of touches and holding than a soft, easily breakable human like you needed. Their curiosity was their drive, but it made you feel sick the longer their touch remained. Occasionally, they'd coo or chortle in awe while all you could concentrate on was trying to soothe the sore muscles inside you by adjusting and twisting your body to accommodate their hands.

Even though you were intimidated by just looking at them, fear clawing at you almost as much as their hands did, you decided enough was enough. While they were stronger than you, you had the advantage of knowledge. If they were any bit as much orca as they said they were, they probably had the attitude of their animal counterpart, making them believe they were above everything. But they weren't above the element of surprise. 

So when you were sure they were mesmerized by your meager body compared to theirs—the third merman even back to prodding at your leg after being startled by the goosebumps—you took a deep breath and then pulled. Pulled as hard and fast as you could, very much aware that if they weren't sufficiently distracted, their reflexes would probably have dismembered you. Luckily, you were able to get away even as their claws snapped after you, your eyes meeting that of the middle merman briefly as you scrambled to your feet, backing away until you found a wall to steady you. Your knees were shaking, but after a few milliseconds, the merman suddenly gripped a shoulder of each of the ones next to him, his claws visibly digging into their bodies. The others snapped out of their reflex just barely after the middle one, looking at him instead. 

"No fun," the one on the right groaned, sinking back into the pool of water. "What good is it if we can't play with it?"

His eyes appraised you briefly, a displeased expression weaved onto his face, turning into a snarl when you met his gaze. "I thought you found us interesting, no?"

Lifting his tail fin out of the water, he waved it back and forth, but contrary to what you remembered, no tracker was punched into it; only a gaping hole remained. And yet, you immediately understood what he was trying to say. This was way worse than you thought, as you realized they used their leverage of maybe being able to tell you how to get back to land to make you do what they wanted, no matter what that meant for you. 

"Don't you want to go home?" the merman teased, a smug grin revealing the rows of sharp teeth behind his lips and confirming your realization. It was terrifying but even more so frustrating. Swallowing hard, you tried to find some reasons with the other two, but while one had now fully turned his back to you, the other seemed just as displeased as the one in the water.

"Maybe we should just eat them," the one in the middle pouted. Your mouth almost fell open seeing this creature actively avoiding your eyes, crossing his arms, and pursing his lips in a pout. All just because you refused whatever they were trying to do? How could they not understand that their actions might be wrong? You had never seen a grown man pout in your life, but you couldn't decide if it was worse on this creature or on a man of your own kind. 

"What do you think, Nerrocan?" 

For the first time ever since you met them, you heard one of them being addressed directly. The merman in the middle looked at the one who sat with his back to you, and you took a moment to appraise his form. Broad shoulders, coated with black hairs that reached below the shoulder blades but did nothing to hide the monstrous amount of muscles weaving under his skin. A dorsal fin stuck out from where his human spine must have transitioned to the fish one, and you caught yourself almost reaching out to touch it, confirming the strangeness of this lifeform. It was curiosity more than a reflex, but both were dangerous down here, locked with these strange creatures.  

"Nerrocan…" you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop. Their white ears perked up, glances snapping to you from the corners of their eyes and over their shoulders. They seemed less alert than surprised, but you clasped your hand over your mouth anyway, feeling as if you were the rude one for speaking so casually to someone you didn't know. Slightly embarrassed, you caught Nerrocan's gaze, looking away before he could, but you scolded yourself for the mishap, missing the shine he had in his eyes as you called out to him. 

You expected some reaction. Cruelty packed into words by Nerrocan that would give the other two the 'go' to do what they planned with you. Or maybe a verbal lashing for daring to speak to him. Perhaps even some hope as he held the other's back, making the unknown threat you felt from them disappear. From the looks of it, he was just as fearsome as the others but showed less interest in you than his fellow mermen. It was hard to understand how different lifeforms thought, but you had still hoped to be able to communicate with them on the same level as with any other sane human being, even just for the sake of the similarities between you two. But you were wrong.

Nerrocan said nothing. He merely shrugged his shoulders slightly, barely visible in the dark. More than half of his body was coated black, so it was no surprise you couldn't see it move much, only when the blue light shone on it. However, you did catch the glance he threw back over his shoulder at you, and you wondered if he understood the devastation you felt visibly on your face. All hope shattered. 

"Nerrocan, you're so fucking boring. Can't you go along with what we want to do just once?" the merman on the right complained, his words a sharp sound, somewhere between hissing and lilting. 

"Shut up, Lyr," the one in the middle ordered, and for a moment, you could see the merman named Lyr snap his teeth at him like a beast warning another. However, when the middle one lifted his hand—presumably to hit the one on the right— Lyr scooted away and out of reach. Before you knew it, Nerrocan vanished in the water, and you watched as Lyr scanned the pool below him before hissing and slipping out of sight. You had a feeling that something must have been going on that you couldn't see, but you knew better as to go and look where they had gone. 

Especially with one still remaining. 

The merman took a deep breath, breathing out before giving you a—what you could assume was meant as a mood-lifting but came out as a terrifying, mocking—smile. "Look, we don't want to eat you. But we hoped you were a bit more… fun."

"I don't even know what that is supposed to mean…" you mumbled, pressing yourself more to the wall as the merman sighed, scooting a bit higher on the ledge and closer to you. 

"Look around you," he directed your attention, gesturing around the cave. "We brought you into our home and made sure you'd survive the dive. Don't you think you owe us something?"

"I didn't ask you–"

"Well, you would have died up there, you know that, right?" His interruption felt like a cold splash of water to your face, but his words hit you even harder. They sat in your stomach like a big stone. One that would sink you if you were left alone in the ocean rather than help you swim. Being demotivated was one thing. But at this point, you were pretty much helpless. You would have died without them but with them… there was no guarantee you would survive these guys, either. 

"Look."

Raising his hands, the merman tried to ease your fear of him—in vain. With a small hopping motion, he elevated himself further towards you, and you, with no place to back up anymore, held your breath. 

"We know humans. You guys are curious and want to know more about us. All of you are. You are always prodding in our territories, trying to find us, and when you do… well. You do this."

Lifting his tail fin out of the water, he waved it back and forth, curling it enough so you could see the red blinking light coming from it. The tracker. You definitely didn't just imagine its existence, and slowly, you let out the breath you were holding, looking him in the eyes. This was more of a conversation than you ever had with any of these guys, and you decided to face it. 

"Humans aren't even that tasty," he noted, assuming your weariness was rooted there. He wasn't entirely wrong. 

"Then what do you want from me."

His grin spread a bit wider at your questions, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge he got you, like a fish drawn to a hook. Inching closer, you barely had time to shift your attention to the two heads that popped out of the water behind him, exchanging glances before directing their focus on you. "You see, we saw humans before. Cute ones—like you! But none would let us explore them a bit. We are oh-so curious about those things you stand on. About your tiny parts and soft body. You're so…"

"Human," you finished his sentence, goosebumps spreading all over your body as you exposed yourself, unwillingly aware of your weakness being your very existence. The merman scanned you with his eyes, almost undressing you with how intensely his gaze burned on your skin. It was an unnerving feeling, one of mutual understanding of how different you were. Weak. Vulnerable. Powerless. Them even communicating their plans was their form of showing mercy. Because if they wanted, they could have easily forced you into it as well.

"Yes," he chortled, seemingly content with you understanding their desire. You couldn't imagine that this was all they'd ask of you, a memory of the voice you heard before waking up in this cave returning to you. 

It hasn't been that long since another tribe—who was it? The sharks?—had been… blessed with an unusual mate.

You wanted to suppress the implications echoing in these words, hoping and wishing this wasn't what these orcas intended to do with you. You couldn't fear something that hadn't happened yet, or else you might lose the last bit of rationality in you that would get you out of this situation, no matter how much anxiety tried to paint the gruesome pictures of possibilities. But you needed to know. Needed to hear it from them, even if the promise was empty. If you wanted to build any kind of trust, this would be necessary, even if the betrayal would hurt twice as much.

"If I agree will you take me back? Back to this place you know, where I can return to my kind? Promise you won't kill me?"

Nerrocan was the first to return to the ledge after disappearing so abruptly. You hadn't noticed it at first, but when he looked at you, his gaze shifting to your legs for a few seconds before looking back up at you, you noticed the split lip he now had, blood trickling from it as the blue light grazed him. "Promise," he answered for the three of them, gaining a sharp glare from the other two. Lyr, too, came back up on the ledge, merely resting his upper body on the stone and propping himself up with his arm. 

"Aren't you gonna say something when he's undermining you, Krill?" he asked the merman in the middle, and now, finally, you had names for all three of their faces. 

"He won't do it again. Right, Nerrocan?" 

The spoken to let out a huff, but when Krill took a deep breath, Nerrocan opened his mouth, submitting as told, "Of course, Krill."

"Well, now that this is out of the way, shall we begin?" Krill asked, his gaze sticking to Nerrocan for just a moment longer before returning to you. Putting on a calculated smile for you—as if he was trying to imitate human behavior—all you felt was another shiver running down your spine. You braced yourself, getting a grip on your shaking hands by curling them into fists. The faster this was over, the quicker you'd find out if they'd keep their promise. The faster you'd be able to get home and sort out this mess your life was in. 

"Okay…" you whispered. Once again, your word seemed to be the one they had waited for, all of them leaping forward, closing in as you let out a surprised squeak. "Stop!" you yelled, shielding your face with your arms and trying to hide behind them out of fear of the approaching predators. To your surprise, the sound of splashing water and bodies moving ceased. When you pried your eyes open, the mermen had stilled, their muscles barely flinching under the intense tension running through them. Their expression was grim, worse than before, seemingly unimpressed with your reluctance after you gave them the go. It seemed their patience was running thin, but what else were you supposed to do?

"Not all at once… please?" you tried to explain yourself, their bodies remaining still for a moment. Lyr was the first to break the silence, groaning loudly in annoyance as he slipped back. Nerrocan said nothing, merely pulling his hands back to his side. He had come the closest to you—especially your legs—and even Krill put some distance between you two, sighing loudly before driving his hands through his short hair. 

"Choose then," he ordered, and there was no hint of teasing or playfulness left in his voice. His eyes remained wide open, staring as he waited for your answer, his body so tense you were scared he might pop a vein. Krill seemed to be the least amused about all of this, but the dirty looks of the other two were just as chilling and pressuring. "Choose who you want to "play" with first, then."

It was an amicable choice that seemed challenging for the three, but they made it your choice nonetheless. Your eyes dragged over all their faces. Nerrocan, the quiet one of them, who seemed very interested in your legs and not much else. Lyr, who was already back to grinning, his casualness paired with the intensity of his gaze drilling into you, making him seem a little unhinged. And Krill, whose word seemed to stand above the others, but whose words could never make him trustworthy to you. 

You had to choose one before their patience with you would finally run out. 

[mini-ism]

#— LIT CIGARETTES.

paring: gallagher x gn!reader (female anatomy, no use of “breasts”)

words: 3.1k

synopsis: gallagher meets a companion that he invites on a smoke break.

warnings: MDNI! intoxication, p in v, dubcon, alcohol, semi-forced smoking, smoking, cigarettes, kinda OOC?, choking, wrist binding, cunnilingus, light degradation, spanking.

DARK CONTENT AHEAD, DISCRETION ADVISED!!

flick, flick…,

the haze of fresh smoke covered his face as he leaned against the stone wall. the golden hour of penacony was ever-bustling. gallagher took a long drag from the cigarette, taking it out of his mouth with his index and thumb, ashing it slightly, and exhaling the smoke.

a cigarette every so often was refreshing, sometimes soulglad can be sickening. or at least to gallagher, though he might be the sole believer of that. damn near every night was the same, “can i get uh… soulglad?” another drunken patron slurred. the face of this patron is just as muddled as their voice. likely because every night, every person asked for a bottle of soulglad. gallagher obliged, as it was his duty, finishing wiping a glass, then uncapping a fizzy bottle of the drink, and passing it to them without a complaint or a mere word.

he took another puff, a longer one. he sighed, murky grey clouds leaving his mouth and nostrils. he put the cigarette back into his mouth, brushing his long, brown hair out of his eyes, savoring every intoxicating breath. he crushed he butt beneath his shoe, tobacco smearing onto penacony’s smooth pavement, watching it fizzle from existence. another benefit of the dream, one could assume.

he scratched at the stubble on his jawline, walking back into one of the many bars he frequently bartended at, bracing himself to serve more damn soulglad for the nth time tonight.

the chestnut-brown hair on his shoulders bounced as he strode back inside, music blaring a bit too loudly for his liking. he cracked his neck, then his gloved knuckles, and made his way behind the counter.

“how was your break?” a coworker inquired, “you smell like smoke.”

“it was alright, i guess. nothin’ too special.” he spoke, “is that a bad thing?”

music rang in his ears as he wiped down a few more glasses. the same coworker tapped on his shoulder after a few moments, “gallagher, look to your left. total cutie over there.”

gallagher wasn’t the type to pay attention to anyone’s looks. he listened. that was simply his job. he just so happened to look to his left, grumbling slightly. “i mean, they’re alright. what’dya want me to say?”

“come on, man, just have fun for once. i get that this is your job, but it never hurts to bend the rules a lil’, huh?” they responded, “i’ll give you like, 200 credits if you talk to them.”

“make it 500 and i might.” he joked, watching as his bartending partner pulled exactly 500 credits out of their breastpocket, slipping it into his pocket.

“do it,” they snickered.

he watched as you settled into your seat at the bar, waving to your friend from across the club. “anything i can get you tonight?” a voice rung from behind you, slightly raspy, yet smooth, and tired.

he was just as tired-looking as his voice led you to believe, “well, firstly, are you okay?” you asked curiously, hands resting on the edge of the marbled countertop.

“yeah, i’m alright. is there anything i can do for you?” he asked again, his amber-colored eyes focused on you, accented by his eyebags that happened to be deeper than oceans. he was visibly aged, and had scars littered all over him.

in the quiet moment you were investigating his appearance, he too was “checking you out.” you looked nice, now that you were in front of him. his vision wasn’t the best nowadays, but it suffices well enough to delineate all the delicate features painted onto your skin and your face. he liked that.

“could i get a crimson sunset?” finally, something that wasn’t a fucking soulglad.

“sure thing, not a problem.” gallagher grabbed a glass with his hand, pouring a mixture of syrups, drinks, and spirits into the glass masterfully. he smiled tiredly at you, passing the drink to you on a red napkin. the drink itself was a pretty red-orange color that faded into a deep purple.

“mind if i get myself a drink?”

“are you allowed to do that?” you replied.

“well, i mean, never hurts to bend the rules a lil’, yeah?” he answered, unintentionally charismatically.

his accidental confidence made you laugh slightly, “go ahead, mister…?”

“gallagher,” he said, pouring himself his own drink. he isn’t mixing it with anything, just straight alcohol from the bottle into the same type of glass you have in your hand, “no need to be so formal. you can just call me gallagher.”

“alright, gallagher, it’s nice to meet you.” you grinned brightly, taking note of the faint smile painting his features and lighting up his dull eyes.

“it’s nice to meet you too… ah…” he trails off.

“(your name).” you replied, giggling slightly as you take a sip from your drink, admiring the complex profile of gallagher’s mixing skills, “by the way, this is really good.”

“thanks,” he shuffles awkwardly, mimicking you by taking a swig of his own drink, “it’s really nothin’ though, just a lil’ bit of gallagher magic.”

he watches as you sip from your drink again, raising his glass again and finishing the rest of the liquid inside. he can feel the alcohol burning in his throat as he drinks it down hungrily, blurring his own mind as you start to talk again. he’s listening, but not a word is registering in his head. gallagher refills his glass with a more potent drink, leaning over the counter and propping himself up with his toned forearms.

“…and that’s how i ended up here, with my friend,” you finished off, the mix starting to get to your head too. he has no idea you could be such a talker, it almost makes him want to shut you up, but that’s not nice and he should play fair! he never does anyways.

“well, ain’t that a story!” he laughs, sipping on his own concoction again, flashing a grin, “here, lemme getcha another drink, it’ll be on me, hun.”

“thank you, gallagher!” you smiled drunkenly, watching him show off his mastery of mixology like it’s a performing art, pouring the beautiful mixture into your new glass.

“mmmn, what? you like the way i do that, eh?” he teased, leaning over the marble counter again, sliding you the glass, “so what if i do?” you teased back, your words starting to slur together to form one big super-word.

“i can do it again for ya, if ya like,” he breathed, his tired eyes starting to look more like bedroom eyes.

“really? can you?” you nearly begged, awe-struck at his sheer skill.

“yeah, i can show you everything i can do. ‘m not jus’ good at mixin’ drinks, y’know?” he said, sending a shiver down your spine, making your back nearly arch with just a single sentence. he looked at you again, greedily sipping his drink, his eyes imploring you to do the same without a single word from him. you do just as they say, watching the spark ignite within his pupils like a flick of a lighter. his lips curl into a smile as he finishes his mahogany colored concoction, a marvel of alcoholic creativity. you cough slightly as you finish up your own drink, the burn in your gut rising like a flame. it travels from your tummy all the way up your esophagus, tickling your lips with a sting.

“do you like it, babydoll?” he collects the glasses, putting them in the sink for later, “i hope you did. i worked really hard on making you a nice drink.”

you nod sloppily, words caught in your throat like the eager blaze that’s simmering within your body. words are barging into your mind, but you cannot decipher, nor string them together, properly. “that’s wonderful. would’ya mind joining me for a smoke break?”

“sure, we can do that…” you smile, your cheeks hot and your skin prickly with fire. gallagher walks out of the bar, helping you walk out of the bar with enough stability. he leads you back to the wall he stood against before, the golden hour much darker than before. you leaned against him within the alleyway.

“have you smoked before?” he asks, taking out a cigarette from the carton in his pocket, where the credits from before lie.

“nooo…” you slur, giggling against the wall as gallagher helps you up, the unlit smoke between his lips.

“…wanna try?” he asks again, lighting the cigarette, flick, flick, shielding the flame with his free hand.

you considered it for a moment. you never thought you’d touch a cigarette, nevertheless smoke it, yet here you are, “uh… sure…?” you said with a hiccup.

gallagher takes a long inhale of the cigarette, his lungs filling with smoke before he takes it out, filling your own mouth with smoke as he puts his lips on yours, gently cupping your jaw with his other hand.

he exhales the rest of the smoke, watching you cough with a weirdly sick pleasure, “you like it?”

just as you were about to whine and say ‘no,’ the rush of nicotine blurs your mind, you can barely muster up a whimper, let alone nod your head weakly. “thas’ good, hun.”

he passes you the lit cigarette, watching you take it between your fingers as you take a small puff, the paper that wraps the tobacco burning up. again, you cough, but the menthol soothes your throat a bit more this time.

“feels real good, don’t it?” he breathes on the junction of skin between your collarbone and your neck, the burn boiling over as you exhale, feeling his hot breath against your prickly skin.

gallagher takes the cigarette from you again, taking a long drag from it, and exhaling in front of you, a bit of the smoke tingling within your throat.

“gonna feel better sooner or later,” he murmurs, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and kissing the intersection between your carotid artery and your clavicle, tickling your skin with his raw, swollen lips.

you whine as his hands crawl up your body, feeling your chest and your covered up nipples. he’s getting handsy as he finishes the rest of the smoke, holding it in for longer, then exhaling in your face with a sinister chuckle, “you’s needy. i gotcha babydoll, don’t worry.”

you fall into him as he crushes the butt-end of the cigarette, the orange menthol filter dissipating out of existence. his gloved hands feel all over every inch of your torso, from your collarbones, to your low abdomen. gallagher plants more rough kisses onto you, picking you up and leaning you against the wall, your back facing him as your cheek presses against the cold, hard surface of the wall.

your vision is spinning as your intoxicated state seeps deeper into your mind and body, watching as he unties his pretty magenta-colored tie. gallagher binds your hands with the tie, keeping your hands behind your back, in place and secure.

“you wanna stay here like this? i’m not gonna ask you again, so you’d best tell me now if you don’t wanna go through with it.” he commands, his grip tight, but loose enough not to bruise flesh.

truthfully, you want to do this, your body does too. your words are failing you as you make little noises, your cheek scraping lightly against the ragged surface. you mustered up a meager, “wannit, gall… ger…”

“yeah, hun?” he whispered breathily, heat radiating against the shell of your ear, “you gonna be good f’me?”

“yessss…” you whine in response, shuffling against the wall, your mind buzzing with every possibility.

“thas’ good, so good already.” he smiles, you can feel his lips curl against your neck as he gives you another little kiss, his raw, rough lips grazing against your tender, needy flesh.

gallagher was buzzed himself, he’s always had a high tolerance for things like alcohol and nicotine, being high off life was almost entirely new. something he hadn’t felt in so long, and here you were, back arched, being all obedient. all for gallagher, bartender and bloodhound (that of which you were unaware of).

in a swift motion, he tugged your at your clothing, moving it out of the way, so he can paw at your undergarments. you looked so cute like this, wrists bound and legs spread. all of this just so he can see what awaits him, “my, my, you’re all wet.”

“nnnmh, yeaaah…” you heaved, you’re dizzy, needy, you’re hammered, and you’re vulnerable. how much more adorable can you get? his fingers traced circles around the dampened spot in your underwear. you’re soaked already.

gallagher pulled your underwear to the side, tucking it in the crevice between your lip and your asscheek, working his fingers on your wet slit. he took some of your slick on his finger, rubbing your clit with his dominant hand. he gave your pussy a self-indulgent slap, before teasing your entrance with a thick finger. wordlessly, it slipped in with relative ease, eliciting a loud moan to pass through your swollen lips. he chuckled at your reaction, pulling it out, then slipping the digit back inside.

another moan fell from your lips, throaty and whiny. his finger started to move inside you, at first unbent and quickly fucking you. you slid against the wall, knees buckling slightly, before gallagher’s free hand pinned you to the wall, keeping you in your place. his single finger curled inside you, hitting your spongy g-spot. you mewled, crooning at the sensation, practically seeing stars. your vision started to blur as black splotches started to cloud it, but all you could feel, think, understand, want, smell, need, was him. he continued fucking you with his finger, watching your legs shake and your juices drip down his finger and onto his gloved palm.

“feels real nice, don’t it?” he cooed, slipping in another digit without warning. his scarred, toned arm flexed with every movement, curling and slipping inside and outside of you. his fingers made their way to your clit, rubbing it with vigor and passion, before he spread your other lip with his thumb and put his lips to your pussy. he gave it a rough, sloppy kiss, pulling away to listen to you cry out. nobody could care any less, they were experiencing the dream. in all actuality, this feels like a dream within a dream, if that makes sense. you were just so amazing, you were alluring. definitely worth more than 500 credits. he gave your pussy another sopping wet kiss, his scratchy stubble rubbing against your skin, creating friction. his tongue darted to your clit, licking and sucking it between his lips and teeth. his thumb still held your cunt open. gallagher gave you a couple more long licks and kisses for good measure, savoring your every drop, relishing your taste, before standing up.

“ready, babydoll?” gallagher rhetorically asked before unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants (which happened to be the same magenta color as his tie). you nodded, drooling and zoning out. all you could understand was the pleasure he was giving you, all you could care about was how much more pleasure he could give you, “great.”

he pulled his thick cock out from his boxers, lining it up against your entrance, savoring the difference in size. your small, little cunt and his big, fat dick. how cute. gallagher re-adjusted you, spreading your legs just a bit further, then putting some pressure on the lumbar portion of your back, causing you to arch more instinctively.

without warning, the burning within your body had boiled over again between your legs, the stretch to accommodate his girthy dick nearly destroying you. you screamed, but nobody gives a damn, “scream all you want, babe, you gonna take it.”

gallagher pulled out again, just a little, to slam back into you, watching your cunt stretch as much as it could. he savored how warm and tight you were, tight as a vice could get. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, saliva dribbling your chin and onto your clothing. a loud crack, followed by a searing pain, flooded your senses. his palm made contact with your asscheek again, slapping it roughly for a second time, pushing himself into you with as much force as he could use before breaking you in half.

“you takin’ me so good, ‘m proud of ya, doll,” he chuckled, smiling again. gallagher had found a pace inside you, his hand snaking up to your throat and wrapping around it. he applied pressure to your jugular and carotid with his thumb and his other four digits on their respective sides. he sped up slightly, gripping your hips as air flow lessened.

gallagher continued to slam-fuck into you, speeding up with every thrust, chasing his high. his breath was hot and heavy, huffing in your ear as your vision and hearing fizzled out like the cigarette butt on the pavement. your breathing became ragged as he bullied your pussy ruthlessly, “you ever been fucked like this, huh?”

air rejuvenated your senses as he let go of your throat, you heaved a weak, drunken “no.”

“ain’t no dick good as gallagher’s, huh? good as mine, mmm.” he groaned, his hips colliding with yours faster and faster andfasterandfaster…, “gonna cum, babydoll. i ain’t pullin’ out, though.”

you hoarsely whined, your fucked-out brain needing more of him, any morsel of him is good enough, and it just feels so good, and youreabouttofuckingcumtoo…

“mmn, i’m cumming, hun. i’m gonna fuckin’ cum in you, you needy bitch. fuuuuckyeah…” gallagher’s grip on your throat tightened the moment the burning hot coil in your stomach loosened, allowing you to orgasm and scream out his name just as soon as he came. he groaned and huffed in your ear, his brown hair messy and clinging to his sweaty face, “feels so fuckin’ good, fuuuck.”

you let out a choked noise, prompting him to let go and pull out of you. he leaned over you, resting his forehead against his forearm, that of which was supported by the wall you leaned against. your knees wobbled, and before you could fall, gallagher instinctively held your abdomen with his other arm, tucking you against his chest. you stared at his scars, which littered his arm, as you came down from your intense orgasm.

“…you okay?” he asked with a newfound gentleness. he helped you back up as he untied your wrists and pulled up his pants, fixing his belt. he chuckled, “i bet you’re tired.”

“very,” you panted back in response.

“how ‘bout i clock out and carry you home, how’s that sound?”

“sounds amazing, gallagher,” you leaned against him as he lit another cigarette before walking back into the nightclub.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

One of Us is Guilty; Chapter 2

The night started with only one body, and now there are two; both the Headmage and the Ramshackle Prefect are dead. Will the killer ever be found before more people die?

Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Divus Crewel, Rook Hunt, Azul Ashengroto, Silver, Jade Leech, Cater Diamond

Content; Unreliable narrators, murder mystery

Content Warning; Murder, blood, death, reader death, character death, description of a dead body & method of death, dead dove content in general

Word Count; 1.1 K

Find this content triggering but still want to participate? Go to this Google Form!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue (Part 1) | Epilogue (Final)

It was foolish, it was dangerous, but Jade could not blame the Ramshackle prefect for wanting out of that room. He may be used to — in some sense — the eyes clouded in distrust that are usually sent his way, but the Prefect? To have their friends turn on them in such a manner? He could not blame them for fleeing, for wanting to distance themselves. Yet, fleeing was how they ended up in this situation, and Jade froze at the top of the staircase to the main hall.

He had seen blood before, for the ocean was not a kind place, he had witnessed death, but the scene in front of him? He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t.

In some sick turn of events, you were now dead. Glassy eyes, and a peaceful expression on your face. You didn’t know… it was sudden.

“Jade-” Azul was coming up from down the hall… he wouldn’t be able to see the scene, and Jade lifted his hand, motioning him to stop, which Azul did. “... did you find them?” 

Jade nodded, and Azul could tell from his posture that something was horribly wrong. He was shaken, a rare sight, which could only spell the worst.

…

…

Everyone had come back to the mirror chamber, with the last two people being Jade and Azul. All eyes were on them.

“What’s with the gloomy faces,” Cater asked, fidgeting with his phone, a nervous habit.

Jade cleared his throat, “The Prefect is dead.” His voice was monotone, but everyone could tell that it disturbed him, a rare thing indeed.

Several things happened at once. Professor Crewel started shaking visibly. Rook had silent tears rolling down his face. Vil took a step back, face pale. Cater stopped fidgeting and was now clenching his fists. And Silver clenched his jaw, and was standing stiff as a board.

Whoever the killer was, they did a good job of hiding it. Did they find this amusing? Why did they do this? What is their motive?

“Who came across them?” Professor Crewel said through gritted teeth.

Jade looked at the man with suspicion, “I did, sir.” He knew what the next question would be; ‘how did they die?’ “... their throat had been slit.”

If he had done it, wouldn’t he be covered in blood? Eyes scanned over everyone, but as far as they could all tell, no one had a speck of blood on them. 

“We need to stick together,” Azul spoke up, analyzing everyone knowing they were doing the same in turn to him. “And since the prefect,” his voice pitched a bit, his emotions getting the better of him, “was innocent, we have to vote again.”

Everyone shuffled, but once again they all wrote down who they thought the murderer was, the room, and the weapon; whoever killed Crowley had thought it would be ‘funny’ to dispose of the Prefect in the manner the majority thought they had disposed of the Headmage. 

“Seven people, eight rooms, six weapons. One person is guilty, two dead, and until they are found, no one is safe; from the perpetrator of the crime, or of being accused.” The mirror repeated what it had said last time, but with adjustments to reflect what had happened since then. 

Everyone waited with bated breath as the mirror started to show who was voted. And in the mirror was Professor Crewel in the main hall, with his mage stone in hand.

The mirror then faded again to black, “He is not the killer. The Headmage was not killed in the main hall. The weapon is magic.”

Divus was shaking again, and everyone knew that this time it was anger; he was first angry that the Prefect was killed, as he was technically responsible for them with being staff and all, but now that his own students had thought him capable that he would murder Crowley. Yes, the man aggravated him to no end, but he wouldn’t stoop to homicide of all things. And these pups had also thought that he would slit the throat of one of his own students… So yes, he was angry, rightfully so. 

Instead of lashing out though, Divus took in a long breath through his nose, and let it out through his mouth, getting a grip on himself. He was the eldest here, he couldn’t let his ire and grief get the best of him and make him do something foolish… that’s how you had met your end after all.

“From here on out we will be staying together,” he barked out. “Do not stray from the group. Am I understood?”

Everyone gave him a pensive nod as their answer, turning their eyes back to one another, judging, analyzing, trying to pin a motive on one another. 

Divus cracked his whip against the ground, gathering everyone’s attention. “Now, Jade, can you show us where the Prefect is?”

Everyone looked to Jade, and he nodded, guiding everyone to the main hall. “Do be warned though,” he murmured, just loud enough so that everyone could hear him, “it isn’t for the weak of heart.”

…

…

It had been a few hours since Crowley was killed, and now everyone understood why the crime scene was so clean; magic killed him, someone had used their magic to kill the Headmage. But your death was not clean, it was a bloody mess. And since Jade had seen the scene before, everyone else had not.

Rook grimaced but didn’t look away from you, tears running down his face again. Silver put his hand over his mouth and looked away, as if he was going to be sick. Cater nearly fainted, and was bracing himself on the bannister. Divus was shaking again, and his anger was back in full force. Vil had seen you, but then looked up to the ceiling; he didn’t want his last memory of you to be this. And Azul, Azul was shaking, and pacing; thinking.

Jade’s jaw was clenched, and he wasn’t looking at the scene again, but his mind was trying to put the pieces together. Why kill the Prefect?

But his train of thought was interrupted by a loud crash of thunder, and the power went out. The thunder continued for a solid minute, drowning out any other sounds. And by the time the power flickered weakly back on, Professor Crewel was crumpled on the ground, face distorted in anger and shock. 

He was dead, much like the Headmage and the Prefect.

There was no blood this time either, with the weapon finally pinned, it seemed like the murderer stuck with it, playing into this game. A sick game… would he win? Or can the remaining students find him before there is no one left?

LINK TO FORM (Voting will end on Friday, October 13th at 9 pm EST)

SUSPECTS:

- Silver; the kindhearted knight with a mysterious past, is it just for show?  (Plum) - Vil Schoenheit; the actor who is always pigeonholed into the role of a villain (Scarlet) - Divus Crewel; the alchemy teacher with a penchant for fashion, Crowley’s co-worker (Peacock) DECEASED - Rook Hunt; the enigmatic hunter who always has a hunch of what’s happening (Mustard) - Azul Ashengrotto; the owner of The Mostro Lounge, a businessman with dubious morals (Green) - Reader; the ‘house-keeper’, a role that was imposed on them by the late Headmage (White) DECEASED - Jade Leech; a student enamored by fungi and seems to have a foreboding presence about him (Orchid) - Cater Diamond; the preppy beau of Heartslabyul, but his smile seems forced (Peach)

ROOMS:

- Main hall (eliminated in Chapter 2) - Teachers’ lounge - Cafeteria - Kitchens - Lecture theatre - Botanical garden - Alchemy lab - Library - Crowley’s office (eliminated in Chapter 1)

WEAPON: MAGIC (found in Chapter 2)

...

To be continued

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Five

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 3,000

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature context

Notes; As always, horrible described combat scenes. Also, a reminder for the text emojis, 💜 is Rafayel and 🩷 is Y/n

Also, I will be working on other stories and oneshots in the future! I just want to get this story rolling and then I'll begin writing other things.

Prev || Next

Masterlist

A few days later, Rafayel finally shoots you a text.

💜 :’miss bodyguard im in need of ur services’

💜:’theres a specific material I need to finish my artwork and only U can help me find it!’

Finally the message you were waiting for. You take a deep breath before sending your message back.

🩷 :’I'll have you know, I've been charging you half the usual price for my services. This better be worth it.’

💜 :’aww dont be like that! Come on over Ill tell you the details when yuo get here.’

You get dressed and head out, saying goodbye to Estelle on your way out.

Once at Whitesand Bay, you step into Rafayel's art studio and, of course, he's on the floor. You already know what's going to happen but you step forward regardless and put a finger to his nose to make sure he's breathing. “Rafayel?” you say, confused at how he was texting you one moment and now he's asleep. You look around the studio, noticing paint cans scattered all across the floor and unfinished paintings with the word ‘Lemuria’ written in the corner.

You go to tap his shoulder and he catches your wrist, causing you to jump in surprise and knock over a dirty water cup which bleeds onto a nearby canvas, revealing an ocean sunset. “Oh hey, you got here sooner than I anticipated.” Rafayel sits up and lets go of your wrist before holding his hand out, “Pull me up?” He tilts his head to the side with a smile. You sigh, shaking your head as you take his hand, but he has other plans and tugs you down with him.

“Rafayel!” you angrily groan as your knees hit the floor, your hand landing in a puddle of baby pink paint next to his head. “Are you crazy?” You ask, anger evident in your tone as you met his eyes from above him. “Mmh, only a little. Anyway, now that we're more comfortable, I need your help getting something.” He rests his hands underneath his head, making himself comfortable.

You roll your eyes and push your body up with one hand so you’re sitting next to him. “And you decided that was the perfect position to ask your question?” You raise a brow, shooting a pointed look at the baby pink paint on your palm. “I get it, it's not a good look. Let me take you out first,” Rafayel chuckles before saying, “Go wash your hand off, we can go to a café or something and talk.”

Once at the café, you sip on your drink as he explains what he's looking for is called a coral stone. He's painted with it before and he needs some more. It’s apparently a really important material for his next painting. “Look I-” But Rafayel shushes you, holding a finger to his lips as he spots something behind you. “There's someone here.”

“Is it someone from the N109 Zone? Why are they targeting you anyways? It makes no sense.” You scratch your head, annoyed at all of the interruptions, and he looks away for a moment, “I… refused to paint something for a big shot and, I guess, I pissed him off.” He shrugs before turning his head to look back at you, “Look, I know you said you want to get into the N109 Zone, so how about we work together, yeah?”

“I've been pretty busy these days…so I'll think about it.” You run a hand through your hair and then tap on the table with your nails. “Should we bait this guy out and see what he wants?” “Sounds fun, Miss hunter.” Rafayel smiles, before you both get up when a group of highschoolers are exiting the cafe and go straight down an alley where you ambush the guy.

He says he's a reporter and that a man who Rafayel sold a painting to died and the reporter was wondering if somehow Rafayel's paintings had killed the man. If you remember correctly, this was the same man who had a mermaid skeleton on display in his home so…maybe this is good riddance. Wait- or did Rafayel really kill that man because he had a lemurian skeleton in his home?

You both end up letting the man go but, before you do, Rafayel breaks his camera and you head back to Whitesand Bay together to look at the sunset. “Look, you don't have to say anything..Just come to the pier tomorrow at 10 if you're willing to go with me. And don't forget your promise.”

“What promise?” You tease before you reply quickly before he gets pouty, “I remember, don't worry.” It was the promise to be his bodyguard. “But if you do come tomorrow…I have an idea on how to get into the N109 Zone. The Nest is an information hub so we could…bait out Onychinus.” Rafayel turns to look at you and tilts his head to the side. “Sound good? I'll pull some strings and get you a Hunting day invitation, anything else you do after that is on you though.”

“You'll just have to show me how to be bait.” You say before you nod your head in agreement. “Deal.” You shake hands and go home to get up bright and early tomorrow.

You stretch your arms up in the air and yawn as you walk across the pier on Whitesand Bay. As you rub your tired eyes, you notice a tall man, that wasn’t Rafayel, standing on the pier. “Oh, hey Mr. Thomas.” You greet Rafayel's manager, who was a tired looking man. “Just call me Thomas. You know…I've never seen Rafayel this excited before! He's been like this since you've been around.”

“Oh really now?” You raise a brow, laughing before Rafayel steps in-between you both. “So you ready for our dangerous mission?” You ask and Thomas peeks around Rafayel with a look of shock on his face, “Wait, I thought you said this was a date!”

After this, the two of you hunker down into the small boat and begin to row toward the island in the distance. “Why couldn't you have gotten a motorboat?” You groan, tilting your head back as you aid Rafayel in rowing the rickety wooden boat. “Zayne said sun exposure to my scar may make it worse.”

“Zayne?” Rafayel raises a brow and scoffs, “on a first name basis with someone other than me?”

You pause, before internally cringing at your slip up. You throw a hand up in the air as you speak, trying to calm his dramatics. “He's my doctor. I've known him for a few years, remember?” You look away from him, not wanting to talk too much on that subject since you weren't sure what would happen.

“Hmm…Well, since you didn't ask yesterday or today, we're heading to Hat Island.” Rafayel says after a few moments of silence with a pout on his lips. “That one island that's riddled with wanderers? The one that everyone is told specifically not to go to?” You question before scoffing, “Huh, maybe I should charge you more.” “Don't be like that, cutie. The protocores from the wanderers here would be great to use as paint. Oh and the coralstone..it's said to be from Lemuria so that's why my paintings with it have illusion properties.” He decides to provide some exposition and you try to row a bit faster. “Anyways, you can't have all of the protocores, I have to submit some to the Hunter's association.” You grumble and the artist in front of you grabs your hand that's rowing. “Slow down, you're gonna make me seasick.”

After about thirty minutes of rowing, the island was finally close but it seemed like the boat was slowly falling apart. “Should we swim the rest of the way?” You worriedly ask, not fully confident in your swimming capabilities, since you can only doggy paddle and not actually swim. “And mess up my suit?” Rafayel retorts and you roll your eyes, “It's better than staying in a sinking boat.”

“Fine, we'll swim once we're closer.” The purple haired man reluctantly agrees as he notices more water seeping into the boat. “The boat will probably be fully submerged by then,” You comment, but continue rowing nonetheless.

Once on the island, you check your watch. “Hmm, it seems like the biggest fluctuation is on the other side of the island.” You say as you wring the water out of your hair. “We'll probably be here the whole day.”

You decide to shoot a quick text to Xavier, asking if he'll feed Estelle dinner tonight and then send another to Zayne, asking if he can reschedule your doctor's appointment for the day after tomorrow. “Alright, let's get going.” You start walking but pause as you notice Rafayel isn't following and has a pout on his lips. “What's wrong now?” You sigh and tilt your head to the side with your hand on your hip.

“You were texting other men with me right next to you.” He hmphs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Relax, Raf,” you roll your eyes with a smile, “I was asking my doctor to reschedule my appointment and my neighbor to feed my pet.”

“You got a pet?” The artist was suddenly interested, but you shushed him as you heard a twig snap nearby.

“Relax cutie, there's nothing around-” Rafayel suddenly lets out a yelp and hides behind you. “It's a monster!” He peeks over your shoulder and you let out a small laugh as you spot a small orange cat. “It's a baby! Come here, baby.” You crouch down and hold your hand out with a smile.

“A baby? That's an evil creature with razor sharp teeth and claws.” Rafayel hugs himself and shivers as he tries to stay far away from the little kitten.

“He's harmless.” You say as you hold your hand out toward it and the cat stood there with wide eyes before the fur on his back bristles and he hisses at you before taking a swipe at your hand. The man next to you moves forward and his hand gets scratched instead as he grabs yours to make sure you were unharmed. “Ouch- see I told you it was evil. I'm gonna die now that it scratched me!”

“Kill the dramatics, Raf.” You say with a laugh and you grab his hand to look at it. “It's barely even bleeding…Do you need me to kiss it better?” You tease and Rafayel raises an eyebrow with a mischievous smile playing across his lips. “Oh, would you now? I'll only feel better if you kiss me- I mean, my hand.” “Are you sure?” You muse before leaning forward to press your lips against it, keeping eye contact with the man before he gets too flustered and looks away.

“That's enough.” He clears his throat, pulling his hand out of your grasp as his ear tips turned crimson. “Let's get a move on and we might be able to leave before the sun sets.”

Once you both get to the other side of the island, the sun is already low in the sky and said sky is beginning to turn orange. “So much for leaving before sunset.” You sigh, kicking your feet as you walk along the beach before your watch beeps. “A wanderer?” You pull up the map, confused. “But where-” “There.” Rafayel points toward the ocean, “Looks like it's gonna pop up soon.”

From the readings on your watch, this was going to be a big wanderer. Hopefully the fight won't be too difficult.

The large, blue bird-like creature rises from the ocean and you take your guns out of their holster. “It's oddly pretty.” You comment before the bird lets out a shrill noise and flaps its wings shooting out blue feathers that embed themselves into the ground.

You roll out of the way, landing on one knee and you fire a few bullets into the creature. “Rafayel,” You shout and he gets the idea. He runs over and you take one of his daggers, flipping it between your fingers as he takes your second gun. You launch yourself into the creature with Rafayel's knife, still charged with his fire evol, digging into the bird's chest and you drop down through the air. Rafayel’s dagger cuts the wanderer from chest to belly but once you get its feet, it kicks you into the water.

Rafayel grabs his weapon in one hand as you fall and then catches you as well, one arm around your waist as water swells around you both. If his evol is fire, how is he using water?

The cut on his cheek heals and you can't seem to stay conscious to see him finish off the wanderer. Instead, you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the murky depths. A feeling of nostalgia washes over you as you feel a panic spread through your chest. You seemed…terrified of drowning but you have never been afraid of water before. Trauma doesn’t suddenly form so where did it come from? You want to cry for help but the moment you open your mouth, salty water fills up your throat and your body forces you to try and breathe. “Help me..” A memory almost resurfaces in your mind, but it’s put to a pause whenever you notice a faint red mark appear on Rafayel’s chest. Why wasn’t he coming to help you?

Though as your consciousness finally begins to fade, you could've sworn you saw Rafayel hesitate to save you. Then, the next moment, he's swimming toward you with a fishy tail? Whatever, it's probably just you hallucinating- is what you'd think if you didn't have any prior knowledge. You already knew Rafayel was lemurian, which is just a fancy way to say mermaid. He was from Lemuria, think of it like Atlantis but it's always been underwater. It was a city lost to time with Rafayel being one of the only inhabitants left, save for the other few people who escaped to land.

The next time you open your eyes, you're back on the beach next to a small fire. Your head was resting on Rafayel's thigh with his coat over your shivering body. You blink a few times before rubbing your eyes as you sit up and put your arms through his coat to wear it properly. It's dark out, you assume a few hours have passed since fighting that bird wanderer. You glance over at the artist and tilt your head to the side. “You…nevermind.” You shake your head before instead saying, “Did you get what you needed?”

“Ah, the bird dropped a pretty little protocore.” He holds the blue gemstone between his fingers as he shows it off, “annnd I also found some coral stones while you were out.” He puts the protocore away before pulling out a rectangular card. He hands it to you with his index finger and thumb. “Here.” “Is this..?” You take the card from him and open it up.

Invitation to Hunting Day. D-3

“Ah, so it's three days from now.” You unknowingly let out a sigh of relief and Rafayel raises a brow, “Are you scared now, cutie?” “Not really. I'm just reluctant to trust you.” You hmph, crossing your arms over your chest. “I saw how you hesitated to save me.”

“You saw but-” He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I didn't hesitate…I just hadn't killed the wanderer yet.” He looks away and clears his throat before slightly glancing back at you, “Did you…see anything else?”

“I did but…we'll talk about it later. It doesn't seem appropriate right now.” You say before you sneeze and wrap your arms around your waist. You hear a familiar hiss and you turn to look in the direction of the noise. “Oh, the baby is back.” Your face looks brighter compared to a few seconds ago. This time, the kitty lets you pick him up. “You are such a cutie.” You rub your face against his fur before kissing him on the head. You can hear Rafayel scoff beside you and grumble under his breath, “I can't believe I'm jealous of such a vile creature.”

“What was that?” You ask, turning your head to look at him. Your cheek still pressing against the kitty's soft fur.

“Nothing.” He clears his throat. “Thomas should be here momentarily with a boat and then we can finally go home. Are you going to take that creature with you? You shouldn't show it affection if you're just going to leave it behind and forget about it.”

You let out a heavy sigh. You know exactly what Rafayel means when he says that, even if he assumes you don't. He's putting himself in the cat's shoes- um, paws.

“Raf…” You press your lips together and pat his shoulder as you stand up so he can't see your face. “I'm not going to leave you.” Your hand squeezes his shoulder as you hold the cat to your chest. “I'm taking him with me..maybe my neighbor will want him and I'll still be able to see him all the time so…I won't forget about him either.”

Rafayel makes a noise in the back of his throat. You're not sure if it's from surprise or if he was overwhelmed with emotions, but he stands up and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Just let me…stay like this for a minute, yeah?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, this was the closest you've been to any of the male characters- to your friends, you could say. You take a deep breath before nodding, “Take as long as you need, I'm not going anywhere.” Rafayel's grip around your waist tightens and the two of you stay like that until the spotlight from the nearing boat lights both of you up, and Thomas brings you both back to the mainland.

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

You know, I just realized that I said I would update every weekend buuuttt I never said how many times I would update 😎 Twice. Probably twice. I feel bad since most chapters, until later on, will be 2-3k words so posting two chapters gives yall at least 6k to read and that makes me feel better. Anyways, hope you enjoy and be prepared we're getting closer and closer to Sylus!

[llamagoddessofficial]

Siren au! Instead of meeting in a aquarium like usual, what happens if they meet MC on a stranded boat. Maybe there was a shipwreck and she’s on a life raft, maybe on a piece of wreckage?

ohoOOOOOOO she's trapped in one of those rinky-dink life rafts with nothing but a tarp over the top to protect herself from the sun and rain, and a few day's worth of provisions.

What shall she do...

Sans: He's the first to find her, adrift in the middle of the ocean, with nothing but her raft and rations. Encountering a siren is scary enough on a big boat, let alone in a tiny little raft with nothing to defend herself. She's forced to watch a monster stalking her as she drifts alone in the endless ocean.

... But for some reason... he doesn't eat her. When he finally does approach the boat, he talks to her- despite the frightening look in his eyelights he's strangely approachable. And after that, he starts bringing her supplies. Though she still finds his mannerisms eerie, she's not exactly going to turn down his help... he brings fish, turtles, edible seaweed, birds he snatches off the water's surface, plastic bottles for collecting rainwater. If she can't bring herself to kill something he does it for her. He gives her endless survival tools- and in return, she indulges in his obvious desperation for someone to talk to.

She'd rather the crazy siren wants to help her, after all.

Red: She loves when Red shows up.

Again, at first, she was terrified when a massive shark siren started stalking up to her raft. She very nearly called out for Sans. But then Red popped up, put his arm over the edge of her boat- and he started flirting. She was so shocked that it genuinely made her laugh... something she thought she'd forgotten how to do, considering what she's going through. He regularly appears to just crack jokes, call her cute, and ask her about her life on land- she never would've thought a siren could be so funny. Now, when she hears that familiar "heya, pretty pearl~", she really can't help but light up.

He's clear that he's there to flirt, to play, to have a bit of fun. His easygoing aura keeps her sane... sometimes, it almost feels like he talks to her just to keep her from going mad.

Sans and Red clearly don't like each other. They both want to be her favourite, and they're both territorial. But when they fight, it really frightens her; she retreats into the raft and covers it with the tarp, refusing to come out for hours.

So they behave... just for her.

Skull: He only comes at night, when the darkness is absolute.

She hears the sound of him approaching. His tentacles twisting in the water. She lays flat on her back in the boat, hidden from view under the tarp, terror gripping her entire body. He knows she's there. She hears something brush against the hull, she hears something tapping a repeating rhythm just inches from her face, she feels when he grips the raft and her entire world instantly seems so fragile. She sees light, colourful glows creeping up from the other side of the raft edge... though her curiosity whispers at her to just look once, to see where the light is coming from, her terror keeps her absolutely stone still every night.

She doesn't know why he doesn't just tip the boat, he's clearly capable of it. She doesn't know why he never reaches into the raft, only remaining outside. Maybe he's playing with her. She doesn't know why he seems to like to hum to her, quietly...

... And she doesn't know why he's always gone by sunrise.

[alpinelogy]

@hypersoft-fest week 2: sci-fi star trek au, collab with @testarossa

Lieutenant George Rusell dreamed of the stars. Ever since he was a child, he wanted to lose himself in their light, chart courses to distant galaxies and fly off to worlds unknown. His head has always been beyond the clouds, above the stratosphere, drifting through the far reaches of space. Ensign Alex Albon dreamed of fantastic planets. As a child, his imagination ran wild, drawing worlds with lilac rivers and fifteen moons, grasslands as wide and deep as oceans, plants that could talk and stones that would sing. He studied for hours, memorizing the flora and fauna of Earth and Vulcan and every planet in the federation, and still his mind wondered at the mysteries to be found on new planets. Alex and George both enlisted in Starfleet to travel the galaxy, but the realities of life on a starship didn’t quite measure up to their dazzling expectations. George was scheduled at the helm for beta shift, a time during which both he and the universe were endlessly sleepy and nothing interesting ever happened. Alex’s attempts to grow moss for water filtration were both slow and fruitless, the results of his experiments muddy and disappointing. Then of course, there was the food: replicated, bland, and often chalkier than expected.  Charting unknown depths of the galaxy wasn’t all it was cracked up to be – until the two join the landing team to the mysterious planet AMG-Zeta. There, the two discovered a life form that would alter the course of their lives, and the course of the universe. Read on for an excerpt from Astral Connection, coming this fall from Hypersoft Press.

George has volunteered for every away mission for which he’s qualified since they have entered deep space, and some of the ones he isn’t. For any trip that was dangerous enough to require a pilot, they sent Lewis, and for all the rest, George stayed on the Mercedes, fulfilling his regular rotation at the helm. It did not take a rocket scientist to keep a starship in steady orbit, so George was stuck onboard, trying not to fall asleep on the bridge, while teams of scientists and security officers and half the regular bridge crew got to explore all manner of planets.

Until today. 

Not only would George join the away team for this mission, but he would pilot the shuttle. The atmosphere around AMG-Zeta, while safe to breathe, was prone to sudden electromagnetic storms and near-constant rain that made beaming directly to the surface inadvisable. 

He was practically bouncing in his seat as he went through the final departure checks. “Are we all buckled in?” he asked, glancing back at the other members of the landing party.

One of the scientists – Adam, he thinks, or maybe Alan –gave him an amused look. “Can we stop for snacks on the way?” Alan asked.

George grinned. “Right, I’m taking that as a yes,” he said, pressing the button to radio the bridge. “Mercedes, this is Shuttle One confirming we’re clear for departure.”

“You are clear, Shuttle One,” came the staticky reply. “Enjoy your trip.”

“That we will,” George said, as he pressed the release button on the locks and allowed the shuttle to drift into open space. 

Despite the thick clouds, navigating to the surface was easy, and the landing quite smooth. George followed the rest of the team down the ramp and took his first steps onto an actual planet in months, into an oppressive mist that instantly coated their space suits. Even the miserable weather couldn’t quite dampen George’s spirits.

At least, not for the first five minutes. The team divided into smaller groups, a few of them traveling to the west to investigate the species of animals native to the planet. According to the briefing, most of the planet’s fauna were varied species of slugs. Not the most interesting subjects, in his opinion, so George stayed behind with Alan, who was on his knees on the mossy ground, his face inches away from a silvery, bell-shaped flower.

“Are you sure you should be that close?” George asked, peering down at the plant. It looked mostly harmless, but even on his very first away mission, George knew better than to trust an innocent appearance.

Alan consulted his tricorder, then looked back to the plant, then at the tricorder again. “Yeah, I think it’s fine,” he said, glancing back at George. “Hey, mind your feet.”

George looked down, then shifted his feet. He’d crumpled one of the bell-shaped flowers beneath his left foot. “Oh bollocks,” he muttered. 

Alan shot him a look, shuffling around on his knees to run his tricorder over the damaged blooms. “We’d better hope this isn’t a butterfly effect situation,” he said. “Oh, that’s odd.”

Alan’s eyes drifted slowly upward, fixed on something around George’s knees. 

“What is it?” George crouched to get a look at whatever it was Alan was looking at, then promptly sneezed as a shimmering powder blew into his face. “What is that?”

“I have no idea,” Alan said softly, studying his tricorder again. 

And here George had thought Alan was some sort of expert botanist.

It’s Alex.

What?

My name. It’s Alex. And I am a botanist, but I can’t claim to be an expert on the properties of previously undiscovered alien flora, now can I?

George blinked. The air still shimmered faintly, the pollen clinging to the heavy mist permeating the air. “Alan,” he said experimentally, earning an exasperated glare from his research partner.

“I just told you it’s Alex,” he said.

“No,” George said, staring at the plant in dawning horror. So much for AMG-Zeta being a boring little planet. “You just thought that. But I heard you.”

“That’s impossible,” Alex said, his voice faint. “Wait, okay. What am I thinking?”

George, having exactly zero telepathic experience until a minute ago, had no idea how to go about reading someone’s thoughts. He looked at Alex, focusing on his – rather handsome, really – face, watching as he broke out into a teasing grin.

You think I’m handsome?

“Oh bollocks,” George repeated, so startled by hearing Alex’s thoughts in his own head that he fell back on his ass. He probably launched even more plant spores or whatever they were into the atmosphere, and now he’d be stuck with the entire crew of the Mercedes hearing his every passing thought.

“Hey, none of that,” Alex said aloud, his voice low and soothing. “I’m an expert botanist, remember?” George nodded silently, watching as Alex clipped the plant near the roots, secured it in a vessel, and tucked the entire thing into his supply kit. “We’ll just take this back to the ship, and I’ll find a way to synthesize an antidote.” Alex looked back up at George, that smile back on his lips. “Who knows, maybe it’ll wear off in a few hours.” Or maybe it won’t, and we’ll be stuck like this forever. Could come in handy sometimes, a bit like a superpower.

You can’t be serious.

I rarely am. Alex’s smile turned wry. Looks like we’re going to learn a whole lot about each other, George.

[tiredfox64]

I’m Gonna Be Your Number One

Yip notes: It’s getting hot and audios came back on TikTok so now I remember songs. Ah

Pairing: Rain (MK1) x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: SWIM

It seems magic can’t solve everything.

Everyone knows Rain has an amazing grasp on water magic. He can cause geysers to burst from the ground, shield himself with a wall of water, and hold an orb of water in the palm of his hands. Yet even the greatest who have mastered water cannot master it all. The waves will crash wherever they like. The pools will submerge whoever they want. Once the water has a grip on you, you lose your grip on it. That’s the last thing Rain wants to happen.

So in short, Rain doesn’t trust the water fully. Meaning he never liked going into bodies of water resulting in him being unable to…swim?

What? What do you mean Zeffeero can’t swim? He’s a water mage, how could he not know how to swim? That makes no sense! What do you mean it’s the same with me being a drummer? It is not! Just because I’m a musician doesn’t mean I need to learn scales. IT’S HARD OKAY! I DIDN’T START WITH THE PIANO IT’S NOT MY FAULT I WANTED TO BE AWESOME! HIM NOT KNOWING HOW TO SWIM IS NOT THE SAME AS ME NOT KNOWING BASS CLEF YOU DI-

As the seasons changed and the weather began to blister in Outworld it grew unbearable. You were visiting Rain more often just to find a way to cool off. He told you his magic was not supposed to be used to cool people off but you ignored that. Plus, he always gave in and created a cloud to drizzle over you to help you out. You are his dearest friend after all. He’d do anything for you.

Remember that for later.

Those little showers were not cutting it. Everyone else in Outworld were going to lakes and beaches to cool off. You wanted and needed to do the same, not alone of course. You want to go with your friend. It felt right to invite Rain to come with you to the beach. He could probably do some cool stuff with the ocean water. But when you suggested that to him he immediately said no. Actually, he raised his voice when he said that which caught the attention of others. He quickly apologized for raising his voice before saying he couldn’t. You asked him why and the excuses came. It’s not like Empress Sindel wouldn’t allow it, she wanted a beach day as badly as anyone else. Finally, he budged after you wouldn’t stop interrogating him. He whispered the truth to you. The truth is that he never learned to swim.

He was worried you would make fun of him or think he was a loser but you were more shocked in reality. How could your best friend not know how to swim? Well that won’t do. You’re gonna change that. You told him you would take the initiative to teach him yourself. He was very hesitant to do it, saying there was no reason for him to start learning now. You reminded him that he would do anything for you and this was something you wanted him to do. Fine, you win, but it needs to be in private. You promised him it would stay between you two and that you know the perfect spot to practice.

Better buy the man a pair of swimming trunks, he's gonna need them.

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“Where are we going?” Rain asked while following you through a forest he had never been in.

“You’ll find out when we get there.” You replied with a smile on your face.

 You walked through a forest you frequently visit. It’s hidden from the eyes of others. The trees grow high into the sky, leaving the forest ground in a cooling shade while letting the sunlight peek through to allow the flora to bloom. In the distance, the sound of running water is heard. It’s a calming sound. Rain has no idea how you found this place but it does seem neat. He wished you would tell him what this visit was all about. Maybe he should take in the fact that you told him to wear the swim trunks that you bought him. Soon enough, both of you came across an opening that led to a pond. The water was clear enough to show the smooth stones that lay at the bottom of the pond.

Rain wanted to back out but you gestured for him to come closer to the water. The water was so calm that he could see his reflection without any distortion. No ripples or tiny waves. He wanted to tell you that he didn’t want to do this today but you were already taking your clothes off. He immediately looked away out of respect.

“Don’t be shy. I’m wearing a bathing suit.” The tone you used with him made him feel silly.

When Rain looked back at you he was stunned by your beauty. He has never seen you in a bathing suit before. He has never seen you like this. In all honesty, you were working that bathing suit like a model. He didn’t realize he was staring at you for so long that you caught him in the act. That’s perfectly fine. You wanted his attention. You took his hand to guide him to the water but he yanked you back.

“It’s…cold.” He was making excuses now.

“And it’s horribly hot right now. I rather be cold than burning up.” You were determined to get Rain into the water. You need to take it slow.

You held Rain’s hand tightly as you moved further into the pond. The water cooled your skin and splashed against your leg every time you stepped forward. It’s the sensation you have been desiring for days. But for Rain, it was like walking through a pile of needles. But he had to do this for you. If he backed out now he would disappoint you. As much as he hated failing himself, he would hate to fail you.

He marched forward, closing his eyes and holding your hand tightly. You guys went further into the pond until the water reached your chest. Only then did Rain open his eyes. You gave him a smile, happy to see him get this far into the pond. And…well…it wasn’t all that bad. The water did feel refreshing and helped cool his body down after the long walk. He was even brave enough to create an orb using the water in front of him. Your eyes sparkled seeing him use his magic. That was until he made the orb pop on top of your head, completely soaking you.

Rain couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle. Though you always enjoyed his laughter and found it to be a moment of peace, this was different. This meant war. You used your arm to create a wave of water that splashed onto Rain. His hair suddenly lost its volume and was now covering his eyes. You let out a triumphant laugh before feeling something wrap around your waist. There was nothing there, or so you thought. You got picked up from the water and you could then see that Rain was using water tentacles to mess with you.

“Hey! No fair! You’re using magic!” You yelled out.

“All is fair in love and war.” He shot back.

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

Whether or not it did make sense, it doesn’t matter now. You were telling Rain to let you down. He let you down all right. Right into his arms. Instead of water tentacles being wrapped around your waist it was his arms this time. This was all in good fun plus he was loving this moment with you. You saw that he was getting comfortable with the water which was a good sign to you. It might be time to push it. It might be time to push a lot of things since this moment was getting pretty intimate.

“Come on, let’s go deeper.” You suggested.

“Are you sure? Are you certain that you want to teach me?”

“I’m not the kind of girl who gives up just like that. I promise I’ll be holding on to you.” You were very certain. Your tone was confident which made Rain feel a little better.

He put you down into the water and you took his hand once more. Slowly but surely you made your way deeper into the pond. The shade of the water was becoming darker. You thought it would be best to see how long Rain could actually hold his breath. You told him to take a big breath and that you will be doing the same thing with him. Big breath in…and…dive!

You and Rain submerged yourselves under the water. You held hands as you looked at each other. So far so good. He wasn’t panicking which helped a lot. It might have been because you were right there with him. But the first breath might not be the best. You could already tell he was struggling as little air bubbles left his lips. You could signal for him to breach the surface to gain more air but at the same time you had an idea. You always wanted to do this little trick. You didn’t think it would actually worked but it doesn’t hurt to experiment. Plus it will be a great excuse to put your lips against Rain’s lips.

You pulled Rain in. He thought you would try to help him up to the surface but no. Instead, he felt your lips against his. He didn’t feel any air being pushed past. All he could feel was you. His eyes were wide while you stayed as calm as you could. Your heart was going crazy which really wasn’t the best when underwater. But it’s okay you’ll get more air soon. You pulled back from Rain and looked at him to see if that did anything. It certainly did something but it wasn’t what you expected.

Rain was so shocked his mouth went agape. All of his air came out in one big air bubble. You immediately panicked and grabbed hold of him. For someone who wasn’t a fighter you sure were strong. You brought Rain up to the surface in seconds. He took a huge breath, feeling the burning from his lungs become dull. He wanted to ask you why you kissed him but he had to catch his breath first.

“You know you were supposed to keep the air in, right?” You tried to lighten the mood with a joke.

“You…You kissed me!?” Rain pointed out.

“What!? No! I didn’t!” You tried to defend yourself.

Yeah it wasn’t really a kiss but you did want it to be. Why else would you try something that you knew wouldn’t one hundred percent work. You wouldn’t try that move with any other guy. You would never even dream of it. Except with Rain. You would do it to him. You DID do it to him.

“You and I both know that what you did doesn’t work. It’s a myth.” He called you out.

“…so?”

“So!?”

Now you felt like the silly one. You were wondering if Rain would be upset with you now and think you were a loser. You pulled a risky stunt and though it didn’t kill him he might want to kill you now. You were about to apologize before you heard him say something that surprised you.

“If you so badly wanted a kiss you could have asked. You didn’t need to do all of this to gain my attention.”

Well, you didn’t actually plan this whole thing just to get a kiss but it’s a win I guess.

“It wasn’t like that but okay. I’m sorry if I upset you.” Don’t go pulling that cute voice out when you apologize. You know he falls for it.

Now you’re giving him those puppy dog eyes as you pull him in closer. You’re truly killing Rain at this point. Just drown him while you’re at it.

“It’s not like you had competition. You should have been formal.”

“Ah well, actually every girl wants you to be her man. I had a lot of competition.” You corrected him.

He was surprised. Do women actually want him? You were telling the truth. The ladies love him. They love a man with power and magic. That’s why you needed to strike. But this wasn’t the strike you were planning on taking.

“It doesn’t matter now. You clearly feel the same since you told me I could have just asked.”

Rain wanted to protest but you were right. He did tell you that you could have asked him for a kiss and he would have given it to you. Shoot maybe you could have asked him to be your boyfriend and he would have accepted since you were so formal about it.

Might as well call this pond Awkward Lovers Lake cause that’s all that seems to be in it. Yes, it says lake when it’s actually a pond, this is not new. Things are misnamed all the time.

There was an awkwardness between you two that had to be broken. Luckily you still had some bravery in you to do it.

“Would you like to keep on playing in the water?” You asked.

You heard him sigh before he said, “Of course. Just don’t make me swim or hold my breath.”

“Deal!”

Yap notes: No I don't actually think he can't swim. I think he could swim fine I just thought it would be ironic 💀. I just really wanted to do more for Rain cause he was the first one I tried when it came to fanfics. I love my snookie pookie. Plus it's the first day of June meaning summer is getting hot, hot, hot. AND it's my birthday month so of course I had to involve him. He's just so handsome I love him. I would give him a kiss if he wasn't washing me away all the time. Adiós!