#go listen to the song it's hauntingly beautiful

[ricoka]

The 'Tanz der Vampire' soundtrack goes so hard, I just started crying over it

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

pairing: lighthouse keeper!joel miller x mermaid!reader

genre: mermaid AU, explicit, fluff, comfort, romance, minors dni

word count: 8.5k

summary: As the man responsible for operating the lighthouse, Joel lives a solitary life on the isolated coast. He has no complaints, enjoying the hauntingly beautiful songs that echo from the sea at night. One stormy night, he rescues a mysterious mermaid tangled in a fishing net. As you recover in the lighthouse, the two form an unlikely bond and find comfort in each other's company.

warnings: mention of joel from time to time visiting a brothel, loneliness, mermaid anatomy things, oral (fem receiving), piv, touch starved!joel and reader, mild breeding kink, squirting

a/n: full disclaimer I made up the mermaid lore, facts and anatomy, the only mermaid romance book I read was goddess of the sea by P.C. Cast and I read that all the way back in high school so I remember very little of it (I think I remember some of the steamy stuff but honestly it's all very vague so if there are any similarities that's why) 🧜‍♀️🌊

**stunning gif made by fanna aka @pedrorascal 💙

When in darkness look for the light. 

Joel heard this at different points in his life. His father, bless his soul, adamant about reminding him that there was always good to be found, even when it didn’t seem like it. When his father passed, Joel thought of the words endlessly. The more he thought about them, the more it made less and less sense to him. What was one supposed to do when the light that was sought didn’t exist? It would’ve made more sense to him if the message was about creating your own light, not depending on another. He would make sure to remember that if he ever had kids. 

The lantern in his hand groaned upon placing it on the nearby windowsill. It was a small window, the glass coated in thick dust. He smelled the sea. The salt of it burned his nostrils, the taste lingered on his tongue.

With a practiced hand, Joel reached for the oil lamp, its polished brass surface gleamed in the fading light. He carefully opened the reservoir cap and began pouring the clear, fragrant oil. The room filled with a faint scent. He listened to the waves as he lit the lantern, creating the sole light that guided him up the lighthouse. Joel imagined the violent waters hitting the bedrock. With time, they would all turn into sand. He looked up. The stairs were endless, going round and round. He spotted seaweed and mold in the same places, observed the humidity that darkened the underside of the stairs that barely hung onto the walls.

The small flame on the wick grew, casting an amber light that illuminated the inside. Joel's eyes focused on the growing flame, his gaze steady as he watched the light take hold.

“I’m home,” he said freely, his voice echoing. On the contrary belief, Joel actually had a regular home. He had a stove, a fridge, a bed. But this... this always felt like his true home. The smells, the sounds, the atmosphere, all of it was familiar, hugging him tight as soon as he stepped inside.

He climbed the stairs, his knees starting to ache when he was halfway to the light room. He didn’t stop, only slowed his steps. The air was fresher at the top. More breathable compared to where he was not moments ago.

He reached the top of the staircase, his breaths coming in steady rhythm as he pushed through the burn in his knees. The narrow corridor opened up into the lantern room, and he stepped into the circular chamber.

Joel reached for the mechanism that controlled the rotation. He gave it a gentle turn, feeling the gears engage beneath his touch. The light began to move, its beam sweeping across the darkening sea. The room filled with the rhythmic cadence of the light's rotation. 

But that wasn’t the only thing that reached his ears. 

A melody that flowed like the ebb and flow of the tides called out to him, guiding him to the clear, towering windows of the lighthouse. Every night he heard it, yet never managed to see the person—or thing—responsible for it. For years it had accompanied him. Another friend that the sea had gifted him to fight the loneliness he felt from time to time. His nose nearly brushed the glass, a chill settling in his bones. Sometimes he thought he heard lyrics as painful as the song itself. 

Joel’s brows furrowed when he noticed the thick fog settling above the water. No matter the light he put out into the world, it would be a hard night for captains and crew. 

The cadence still heavy in his ear, Joel stepped away from the panes. He picked up his log book and took a seat. He grimaced when the chair groaned under his weight. Joel had placed his desk so he would still have a view of the sea. The brine-laden air filled his lungs as he ruffled through the pages. 

Picking up his pen, Joel began to write. 

Lighthouse Keeper's Log: Joel M.  Date: October 22, 18XX Weather: Heavy fog blanketing the coastline, strong easterly wind, temperature 58°F. Lighting Operations:  Lit the lamp at 18:30 hours. Due to thick fog, visibility greatly reduced; light rotation pattern altered to emit one long white flash every 20 seconds. Despite challenging conditions, light remains steadfast in its duty. Vessel Sightings: Limited visibility makes it impossible to spot distant vessels. Unusually rough seas observed, even in the absence of a clear storm. Large waves breaking against the shore; powerful surges felt within the lighthouse. Remaining emergency supplies: Blankets, dry rations, and signal flares. Remarks and Notes: The fog is a thick shroud, obscuring the sea beyond the immediate coastline. The normally serene cove now a theater of restless energy, waves crashing against the rocks with an almost primal force. An eerie beauty to the fog and the untamed sea—a reminder of nature's might and mystery. Life at the Lighthouse: Dinner of canned beans and bread awaits. Appetite normal. 

Joel chewed the inside of his cheek. He tapped his pen against the worn paper before resuming taking his notes. 

Heard the song again. It always sounds like it’s in longing for something more. I’m starting to think I’m making it up from my own loneliness. But I can’t really complain much I picked this life. 

He let out a groan. There was some comfort in knowing no one would read these but he didn’t want to sound like a crazy person if someone did end up stumbling across the notes. 

Joel leaned back in his chair, extending his legs. His muscles hummed happily at the stretch. He still had to check and make sure what supplies he had left to put in the log, he also needed to make sure no additional repairs were needed. He dragged a heavy palm down his face. Why the hell didn’t he check when he entered the base? Now he had to go down all those stairs again. He loved the lighthouse but hell, he could do with less workout. 

With a sigh, he got up and left the room. He descended the narrow spiral staircase that wound its way down into the base of the lighthouse. He carried a lantern to light his way, its feeble glow dancing against the walls. The sound of the crashing waves outside gradually faded into a distant rumble. His unease grew as the melody disappeared completely. 

Joel knew the lighthouse like he did the back of his hand. But that didn’t mean the structure even spooked him from time to time. It wasn’t easy being alone in the dark, watching the endless horizon just wondering about life. Hearing the aria subdued those thoughts— the thoughts that made a convincing point that he’s lived an empty life.  

Reaching the bottom, Joel stepped into the dimly lit chamber that housed the mechanical workings of the lighthouse. Gears and mechanisms stood in silent vigil, their intricate interplay hidden beneath layers of metal and shadow. The steady tick-tock of the clockwork echoed softly in the confined space.

Setting the lantern on a nearby table, Joel approached the massive gear assembly responsible for the light's rotation. He ran his fingers along the metal surfaces, feeling the vibrations as the gears turned in precise harmony. His trained touch could detect even the slightest irregularity.

A toolbox lay open on the table, its contents glinting in the lantern light. Joel selected a wrench and began to carefully tighten bolts and adjust connections. He moved with the grace of a musician tuning an instrument.

As he worked, his thoughts shifted to his guitar at home. He wanted to play again. Perhaps accompany the song he heard every night. His fingers weren’t as they used to be. It took time to remember how to move them over the strings, the cords, it frustrated him, making it easier to give up as soon as he touched the instrument. 

The lantern's glow flickered as Joel adjusted the final cog, ensuring that the gears meshed flawlessly. Satisfied with his work, he stood back and observed the assembly for a moment, watching as the clockwork continued its patient dance.

Then. . . a sound. 

An unfamiliar sound. It was followed by a frustrated shout and some wild splashing. Joel stood still, his spine stiff as they came. He thought the sea was playing tricks on him, which was why he remained there. Listening. The sound repeated itself, some colorful curses flying out of the mouth of whoever lingered outside of the lighthouse’s walls. 

Joel promptly headed for the door. Whoever it was, it sounded like they needed help. His mind raced. It could’ve been a multitude of things; a shipwreck that led hald conscience crew to the shores, a kid playing past their curfew, a—

. . . a woman entangled in a net.

What?  

He stilled, eyes wide with shock. All air was expelled from his lungs, mouth incredibly dry despite the chill that quickly settled in his bones. He blinked over and over, his mind trying to comprehend the sight before him. Waves crashed around her, framing her while she fought against the stubborn net. It’d been a while since Joel was in close proximity to a woman. He wasn’t a hermit, but most of the time he kept to himself, and when he needed a release provided from something other than his hand. . . he earned enough a month to spend on certain services. 

She was beautiful. Her back bare and her front hidden, looking like a starfish washed a shore. She struggled again and with a snarl, she flipped over. 

Joel’s cheeks warmed, the night chill that settled in his bones quickly dissipated thanks to the sight before him. As if to accommodate the moment, a particularly large wave washed over her, drops of salty water wetting the cuffs of his pants. She only wore a bra—at least that was what Joel assumed it was. It was the same color of a brewing storm, silver that gradually softened as it disappeared into her skin. Stunning. 

He swallowed. Temptation fogged his mind, his cock becoming stiff under the thick fabric. He was only a man after all. Joel knew little that could resist someone like her, she was hypnotic. With another swallow, his gaze moved lower. He wondered if the rest of her was just as revealing. 

But the rest of her was hidden by the vastness of the sea. 

For the better, he thought, cock straining against the zipper. He wouldn’t have touched her, of course, but it would’ve made it harder to think. 

And to help her. 

Joel's gaze finally met her face, which was equally as beautiful as the rest of her, despite being the target of her unwavering glare.

“Ahoy,” he said, voice thick. His greeting did little in wiping away her untrusting stare. “Uh. . .seems like you’ve gotten yourself in a. . . bind.” 

“Funny,” she answered, her voice the complete opposite of the statement. Wrestling against the net, a hiss escaped her lips the moment she tried. “Are you going to help or just make puns, human?” 

Human? 

Joel raised an eyebrow, being caught in a net would be annoying for sure but it shouldn’t be hurting her. He tilted his head and came closer. She regarded him like a wild animal, her need to flee evident in her eyes. He sighed. “Don’t give me the coyote look, I’m not a canine.” 

“I’ll look at you however I want to.” 

She moved and when the net brushed against her skin, she winced in pain. Pulling her arms close to her chest, she made an effort to keep from touching it. This time the pain was evident over the contours of her face, prompting worry to cross over his. 

“Stop movin’,” he ignored her sharp tongue and knelt next to her. “Is that a barbed net? Shit. We need to cut you out.” 

Another wave. A scream. 

Panic flared under his skin, without telling her to wait, he jolted inside of the lighthouse. He rummaged through his toolbox and when he came back, Joel noticed the trickle of blood going down her cheek. “Don’t worry,” he said quickly, his body collapsed onto his throbbing knees. “I’ll get you out.” 

Her stare grew gentle as he meticulously severed the ropes. Joel's attention was drawn to the cuts and bruises that marred her. He didn’t even know her name but he knew that he hated seeing her like that. So hurt and vulnerable. Another wave washed over them. Joel snarled at the sea, his annoyance growing at the wickedness of his greatest love. 

“The name’s Joel,” he grunted and moved down her body, freeing her inch by inch. Her spine turned as rigid as a plank. “Am I hurtin’ you?” he asked, stopping momentarily. He looked up but she wasn’t facing him. 

“I-It’s not that,” she said. All of her bite from before had dissolved like foams upon the sea. “My. . .lower half got caught up badly when I tried to break free. It—It might be too gruesome to see, so just give me the cutters and  you can go.” 

Joel scoffed. As if he would let her do this by herself. “If you’re hurt that bad all the more reason to stay and help you, honey. Just stay still.” 

“But—” 

“Stay still,” he ordered. Joel spread his finger across her lower back. He was surprised to find her skin so cold. He needed to free her and wrap a blanket around her ASAP. 

One by one, he cut through the net, more of her exposed to him. It almost felt like he shouldn’t be seeing such a sight. It didn’t matter though, he’d help her no matter what— he’d decided on that the first moment he laid his eyes on her. His hand moved downward, pinning her to the spot, maintaining her still. She let out a gasp, one laced with fear. Joel didn’t understand why. 

He shook his head and pressed on. 

Only when he lowered his gaze back down did he feel it. The smooth, leathery texture of her skin. It was slippery, soft. . . scaled. It took his eyes a moment to process. Subtle around her waist, the color became more pronounced as it extended downward. Scales. Beautiful scales that shined under the moonlight. It was the same color as her bra, gray that cheated its way to a light shade of blue. Joel swore he saw some gold scattered in there as well. 

He stopped moving—hell, he stopped breathing. 

“You noticed,” she said simply. Joel’s head snapped towards the voice, the tips of his ears red. 

“What—” he shook his head. “Are you a fuckin’ mermaid?” 

Silence. 

“. . . maybe.” 

“Don’t pull my leg, girl,” he warned. The words didn’t match his tone. Joel was simply in awe, his mind more of a mess. “I can see your damn scales as clear as day.” 

“Then why are you asking?” she snapped. “Could you please just help me out? It hurts.” 

“I was just curious,” Joel grunted, voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t say anything else and continued in silence. When she was free, he threw the net toward the lighthouse. He would discard it later. “Now what?” 

“Now,” she answered, the first smile gracing her lips. “I leave. Thank you.” 

Joel couldn’t deny the selfish throb of his heart. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. He wanted her to stay—wanted her to want to stay. With him. Why was that he didn’t know. A cold gust of wind blew while he watched. The mermaid turned to swim away, and as she did Joel didn’t miss the small tell tales of pain. 

He saw blood. It turned the sea into a nasty color. The words clawed up to his throat, he pushed them back as much as he could. 

Stay. 

He wanted to shout but couldn’t. It wasn’t his place. 

Luckily, fate was on his side tonight. 

She couldn’t move her tail, every movement like knives into her meaty flesh. The waves slowly brought her back to shore, like a gift. 

Her, however, didn’t share his enthusiasm. Tears built in her eyes, again, Joel could swear he saw golden specks in them. 

“I have a place,” he said. “A secret place you can stay until you heal. I have supplies.” when she didn’t seem convinced, he added. “Let me take care of you. Please.” 

A male. A human male. 

A man. 

The notion still escaped you, his hands one of a gentle giant’s as he carried you down the treacherous steps. He didn’t attempt to steal your gaze no matter how long you stared at him. And no matter the pain, you couldn’t stop. There was a roughness to his features, his appearance rugged with lines deepened by time drawn over his face. You observed the grays in his hair, in his beard. Witnessed the divot in the middle of his bottom lip, so full for a man seemingly unbothered by what you were. 

No matter how strong or wise, to see a creature that was believed to be none other than myth must’ve come as a shock. 

But you remained silent. 

So did he. 

You settled on observing your surroundings. Nestled beneath the weathered stone foundation of the lighthouse, smooth walls resided, etched over centuries by the relentless caress of the sea, glistened as if adorned by a myriad of precious gems. The low ceiling, curved and worn, hinted at the gentle erosion that had sculpted this intimate haven.

The passage meandered downward, its narrowness opening into a grand expanse that drew a gasp from your numb lips. The chamber widened into an awe-inspiring grotto. Stalactites and stalagmites formed natural columns that reached toward each other as if yearning for an embrace. The rhythmic lullaby of waves filtered through unseen crevices.

At the heart of the chamber, a crystalline pool shimmered in shades of sapphire and emerald. Slender rays of moonlight, filtered through a labyrinth of underwater tunnels. An intricately woven nest of dried seaweed laid upon the surface, the smell of it reminiscent of home. 

However, you weren’t one to lower your guard so easily. No matter how pretty the prison was. 

Still in his arms, you shoot him a look of untrust. The fingers that gingerly held you tensed, blunt nails slightly digging into your wounded flesh. “Don’t give me that look,” he grumbled, averting his gaze. “It’s connected to the sea, you can leave whenever you want. . . or escape, if you would prefer to put it that way,” he walked to where the sea connected to the earth. “It’s completely closed off to the outside. If someone wants to find this place they’ll have to go into the lighthouse first and well,” he turned sheepish, red coloring his cheeks. “No one does.” 

“That’s kinda sad,” you remarked. You didn’t ignore the twinge of sadness coiling your heart. “You don’t have a family?” 

“No,” he answered. You didn’t expect to hear the rasp of his voice, the same tone when you dragged your finger through the rough gravel of the shores. He still refused to meet your gaze. “So. . . you’ll be safe. You don’t need to worry.” 

Joel gently lowered you into the sea, his legs half-submerged in the water. As salt touched the wounds, an incoming hiss grated against your throat, and pain bloomed, spreading through your tail.

You discerned the sound of his pulse racing beneath the cloak of his human flesh and bone. When you turned to look, you found him both mesmerized and distressed. 

“Can I bring you medicine?” he frowned when your gaze turned into one of amusement. “What? Don’t mermaids need medicine?” 

“Not for something like this,” you grinned. You thread your fingers in the water, careful not to move your tail as much as you moved to lay face first on the shore. “The sea will heal me. It hurts, but the wounds aren’t big enough that it would require external help.” 

Defeated, he shook his head, “If you say so, sweetheart.” 

You watched as he balled his hands into fists and released them. He repeated the motion over and over until he prepared to leave. Your eyebrows raised. He wanted to take care of you, ached for the companionship the close proximity would force upon them. Surprisingly, you felt bad. You’ve seen this lighthouse a million times, never once you thought such a sad man would be on the other side of cold walls. You sucked a sharp breath and decided to throw him a bone. 

“I will need food,” you called out, stopping him in his tracks. His shoulders raised, you swore if he were a dog his ears would be standing with attention. You swiped a tongue over your bottom lip, a bit of life in them now that you were in the water, he had a strong back, wide shoulders that any creature would admire. 

“What d’you eat?” 

You smiled, “Anything really. I’m not picky.” 

He turned then, he seemed so large in front of the narrow path that would lead up to the lighthouse. “What about fish?” 

“Unlike what your fairytales might entail, we do eat fish,” you answered with a burst of laughter. 

You laughed again when the crease between his brows deepened. He wrinkled his nose, “Feels wrong.” 

Despite his words, he looked lightened by your laughter, something like adoration swimming in his eyes. 

You shrugged and shuffled further into the water. It signaled the end of the conversation, prompting Joel to disappear back into the depressing labyrinth of the lighthouse. With a sigh, you turned your back, staring at the ceiling. You wondered how long you’d have to stay here. You had wrinkled your nose at the medicine that was offered, yet you knew it wouldn’t be a speedy recovery.  

You sighed again, disappearing into the water. You watched as the last of your oxygen formed bubbles that head to the surface, your gills starting to expand. The image of the stalactites became distorted, the moonlight that touched the soft waves bouncing around in the water. 

You really shouldn’t be complaining. At least the human who found you seemed to be a good one unlike the many you’ve seen during the centuries you lived. 

The ache in your tail growing tender, you closed your eyes. 

Joel, despite his imposing ruggedness, was quite nurturing. As the day passed, you noticed that he began to regard you with a sense of purpose. He went back home during the days, only to come back with heaping amounts of food and water. 

He never did bring you fish though, which made you giggle whenever you thought of it. 

“You don’t drink water.” Joel had said it as a statement rather than a question. You nodded and pushed a plump grape between your lips. The salt from your skin coated the fruit, highlighting the flavor. 

“I don’t.” 

“Is there somethin’ else that you drink? I can try to find it for you,” he said thoughtfully. His eyes met yours, your grin making him short of breath. He looked away, something that he commonly did whenever he was frustrated. And you noticed how easy it was to rile him up whenever you stretched, the sheer scales that covered your breasts almost sheer. You thoroughly enjoyed his gaping mouth and lustful gaze. You wondered when was the last time this man was touched. 

"Drinking water, as you know it on land, is quite different for me beneath the waves," you explained with a playful glint in your eyes. "You see, our world is a delicate balance of salt and currents, and our bodies have adapted to it."

You gestured gracefully to the shimmering water around you, your tail swaying gently with the motion of the still water. "When I need water, I don't sip from a cup or a stream. Instead, I have a connection with the sea itself. Just as your body knows how to breathe without thinking, my tail and skin allow water to flow through."

"Imagine this," you continued. "In the embrace of the ocean, my body senses the ebb and flow of the tides, the salt and minerals suspended in every drop. When I need hydration, my skin and scales absorb the sea's essence, drawing it into my very being."

You leaned closer, lips an inch away from his, your voice a mesmerizing cadence. Joel’s breath hitched, his chest expanding with each word whispered. He licked his lips, your eyes dropping to observe the movement. You imagined that same tongue sinking into your mouth, licking the salt. A shudder crawled up your spine, your breasts feeling tender and heavy. "So, you see, I drink in a way that's in tune with the rhythm of the sea, a silent conversation with the waves themselves. It's a connection, a dance of existence that ties me to the world I call home."

“Do you miss it?” 

The question took you by surprise and you blinked rapidly, “What?” 

“Your home?” 

“I—” Such a perceptive man. It surprised you. “The sea is my home. I’m never apart from it,” you said, shaking your head. A soft smile touched your lips. 

“What about where you were born?” he pressed. “Your family? Friends?” 

“So many questions,” you hummed. And, with a burst of confidence, you touched his cheek. Him leaning into the touch was something you hadn’t expected. “I’m not to go back.” 

“You were banished?” 

“I left.” it looked like he was about to ask more. Before he could, you pressed your thumb against his lips, feeling his warmth, his whole body grew rigid but didn’t pull away. “Too many rules,” you explained. “Not a very fun place to live.” 

With a graceful flick of your tail, you returned to the water, leaving a glistening trail of droplets in your wake. You vanished beneath the surface, you waited a moment and look up. There he was, leaning further into the water. Trying to capture a glimpse of the mythical creature he was nursing to health—

Propelling yourself with a force gentle enough that wouldn’t re-open the wounds, you broke through the surface and wrapped your arms around his neck. He let out a yelp as you pulled him under, bubbles caressing your bodies, rushing to escape the sea. Joel’s eyes went wide, panic lingering in the depths. You met his gaze and smiled, his heartbeat was muffled yet loud under the water. In order to calm him, you placed an open palm right above that frantically beating heart, closing your eyes, you willed your emotions over him. Calmness. Serenity. 

You’re safe with me, Joel. The only one of your kind that can say that.

He heard you. You watched the panic melt away from his gaze, replacing it with shock. Normally, if he was a merman himself, he’d be able to answer. Something tugged at your heartstrings, your gaze falling to the depths of the water.   

You felt his hands cup your waist, instinctively pulling you closer to him. He was firm, warm against your chest. To be touched. . . you missed it. Like he did when you cupped his cheek, you nuzzled closer to him. Your breasts flushed over the planes of his body, your nipples tight as they grazed against the fabric of his shirt. 

Warmth. 

You chased it. Ached for it. He seemed to be the same. His fingers denting your flesh, his arousal hard over your stomach. You would’ve allowed him anything in that moment. For him to kiss you, hold you, fuck you— you’d grant him anything, like a genie in a bottle. 

But, nonetheless, he was human. And humans needed air no matter how strongly they fought against it. 

His eyes became apologetic, brows furrowing. He gestured up and you shook your head, prompting confusion to cross his face. 

Mermaids were known to take human lovers. They would usually transform once a month to head for the shores. No one wanted to share more of themselves than they had to. Their world was a secret to be kept, an unspoken rule they all knew since birth. Looking at him, you knew he was at his last drops of oxygen. His cheeks were puffed up, eyes questioning your motives. 

Evolution had granted your kind one more gift—the gift of life. 

Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers bunched the collar of his shirt, you tugged the fabric. The sound of the currents flooded your ears. You felt your gills expand. Joel was unaware, he brushed your lips together, eyes coming to a close. 

A kiss. A simple kiss. 

His lips parted alongside yours, his tongue curious. You met him halfway and slanted your mouth over his, closing the gap entirely. 

You breathed air into him. Filling his lungs with oxygen. Your gills quivered at how much was needed for him to make this moment last. His chest dilated and Joel finally opened his eyes. With a smile, you pulled back, dragging your lips down to his neck instead. Slightly embarrassed of what he might think of it.   

His fingers curled under your chin, pulling you back up so you’d face him. You laughed when Joel attempted to ask his questions with nothing other than his eyes. 

You didn’t answer this time, only shrugged. His lips broke into an exasperated smile and despite the lack of it, you felt the air around you crackling, arousal pouring between your legs and mixing with the sea.  

Joel pulled you towards his lips once more. Eager for another taste. 

She was sleeping. 

Joel’s steps were feather-light as he approached her, his guitar in hand. He’d foolishly mentioned how he was trying to remember and her eyes had gone wide with excitement, asking him to bring it over. But since she was sleeping, he decided not to bother her with it and gently placed the instrument aside. 

He asked about it once, how her kind slept, apparently, they would drift to sleep underwater most of the time. That’s where they felt safest. He didn’t pry on the matter but could hear a hint of hurt lingering under her words. 

So, when he first saw her sleeping, his heart had warmed at the sight. 

Right now was no different. His gut felt oddly warm, his heart swelling in his chest, everything feeling a bit too tight. 

They hadn’t talked about the kiss—or the touches for that matter. 

Again, he hadn’t pressed for answers. He wasn’t sure what good they would do anyway. They were a part of different worlds, different species, how would it work? 

Joel tilted his head to the side. 

Seriously how would it work? She didn’t have. . . well. . . a vagina. At least not one he could see. 

Did she lay eggs? 

Joel blanked at the thought. They drank like fish so who was to say that they didn’t procreate like them too? 

He violently shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about that, it was none of his goddamn business. With his mind feeling clearer, his eyes roamed over her sleeping figure. She was a silent sleeper. Her hands were tucked under her head, most of her tail submerged beneath the water, flowing freely with the soft ripples of water. All he wanted to do was to kneel beside her and stroke her hair, her body that seemed soft and supple. 

Joel managed to do half of what he wanted. He took a seat near her, the gravel crunching under his weight, her breathing more audible now that he was close. 

It’d been almost a month since he found her entangled within the nasty fisher’s net. He didn’t know how long it took mermaids to heal but he had a sneaking suspicion that she had. His mouth dried, a sudden uncomfort riling his stomach. He was afraid she was staying here for his sake. To spare his feelings. That notion just didn’t sit right with him. It was unfair to her, and, in some ways, it was unfair to him. He didn’t believe a creature like her would want to stay with an old man like him. He had nothing to offer. No land, no money, no nothing. 

Only the lighthouse. 

The kiss had been one of convenience, he told himself almost every night, stroking himself while replaying the moment over and over. He hadn’t visited the brothel since. None of them could compare to how she made him feel, and he doubt he’d go even after she left. 

“You’re thinking loud,” a murmur came from next to him. She stirred and flipped to her back, eyes finding his a second later. Joel could see her dreams still glimmering in her eyes, adding a shine. Her brows furrowed when his gaze lingered longer than it should have. “What?” 

“Nothin’,” he answered. “I brought the guitar.” 

“Really?” she was suddenly wide away, her upper hand lifting and tail splashing as she came to a sitting position. “Will you play for me?” 

Despite himself, he grinned, “That’s why I brought it, sweetheart.” 

He reached out and picked it up. When he returned, he caught her eyes on the exposed skin of his stomach, her lips parted. Briefly, her gaze found his. 

“I—um—” she looked away, bottom lip sucked between her teeth. “I know some songs so maybe I can join your playing.” 

Something flickered inside of him—a familiarity he couldn’t quite place. 

“That sounds lovely,” he balanced the guitar over his lap and strummed a couple of strings, their sound filling the cave. His gaze expectant as he looked back at her. “Go on now, don’t be shy.” 

She puffed her cheeks, huffing with annoyance, “That’s not fair, I said I would join you, not the other way around.” 

“You’re breakin’ my heart,” with a fixed gaze, his eyes grew soft and he smiled. “Please?” 

With a sigh she shifted closer, her tail swaying with an elegant fluidity. Her voice, when it finally graced the air, was hauntingly beautiful—a melody that seemed to bridge the gap between the human world and the mysteries of the sea. The lyrics spoke of lost homes and forgotten dreams, of endless depths and aching hearts. It was a song of longing and solitude, a mournful tale that seemed to capture the very essence of her existence.

As she sang, Joel's fingers moved deftly across the strings of his guitar, weaving his own notes into the fabric of her song. The cave's quiet embrace amplified the sound of his guitar, each note resonating against the walls. The music swirled around them, an unspoken conversation between two souls who had found an unexpected connection.

He watched her, the soft glow of the cave reflecting in her eyes as she sang. Her voice carried a weight that tugged at his heart, stirring emotions he had long kept buried. 

Without thinking, Joel's voice joined hers, his rough yet tender tones intertwining with her song. As their voices merged, the cave seemed to come alive, the walls reverberating with the bittersweet harmony of their duet.

In the midst of the music, a memory began to surface—the melody she sang felt achingly familiar. He strummed the guitar with increasing fervor, his fingers dancing across the strings as he tried to match the rhythm of her song.

And then it hit him—the realization that sent a shiver down his spine.

It was her. 

The sound that accompanied him every night. 

The sound that kept him sane. 

The sound that made him feel less alone. Less broken.

The sound of an old friend. 

It was her. It had always been her. 

Joel suddenly stopped, his eyes wide and lips agape as he just. . .stared at her. She was lost in her song, only noticing the loss of the soulful sound of the guitar moments later. Joel watched her blink with confusion, on edge, thanks to his gaze. “It’s you,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “You’re the song.” 

“I’m. . .what?” 

Wanting her to understand as soon as possible, Joel began humming the melody every part of him had grown accustomed to. He went on until her features shifted from confusion to recognition, a hand coming to cover her mouth. 

“You heard me?” she whispered. 

“I did,” he swallowed. “Every night.” 

Joel didn’t waste any more time. He held her gently by the neck, feeling her pulse as he crashed their lips together. He licked himself deep into her mouth and tasted the sea on her tongue. Her hands limply pawed his chest, bunching his shirt between delicate fingers. 

Her moans were even more beautiful than her song. 

He couldn’t get enough of it. His mouth devoured her, eating her alive with every fat swipe of his tongue. Her moans were swallowed by him. She was pliant, body trembling against his, desperate in the way she allowed herself to be consumed. Her breath stuttered as he cupped her breasts, the scale that covered them slowly sinking into her skin, leaving her bare to his tongue. 

Joel wanted no time in lowering himself, sucking the pebbled flesh between his lips. He swirled his tongue and nipped her with sharp teeth. She thread her fingers through his hair, pulled him closer. Joel looked at her between heavy lashes. Her breathing was frantic, her heart like a hummingbird’s in her chest. He pushed her tits together, dragged his tongue quickly from one swollen nipple to the other, she threw her head back with a wanton moan, the sound bouncing off of the walls. 

He felt the sting of her nails on his shoulders. Her trails thrashed against the calm waters and his one hand slid down to where the scales began. Joel never felt them properly before. He cupped the area where her ass would be if she were human, the pads of his finger digging into her flesh. She seemed to enjoy that. Her body shuddered, her scales growing wetter by the second. 

Joel parted from her chest with a pop, his lips were damp and a string of saliva followed him. “How does this work?” he asked, voice nothing but gravel. 

Still in a haze, she blinked. Confused. A smug smile tugged at his lips, pride, and cock swelling simultaneously. Finally, when she understood, she took his hand and led it down to her front. Joel didn’t look. He wanted to memorize her face instead, engraving every part of her into memory. As he was preoccupied, he felt it, an opening similar to a human woman’s. She still held her wrist while he explored. He traced the lips, the wetness between them. 

Her eyes rolled back when he brushed against the crown of her cunt, a throbbing pearl hidden. “Joel,” she breathed. “Again, please.” 

He nuzzled her neck and laid a kiss. “You’re not that different from your human counterpart it seems,” he murmured, goosebumps rising where his lips touched. “I want to eat this pretty cunt out, sweetheart. Let me taste you.” 

She nodded hazily, eyes clouded by lust. Joel splayed her over the shore, the bottom half of her tail still lazily moving under the water. He didn’t care about getting wet. Moving down, he straddled her and looked down. 

The breath got knocked out of him. 

Her hands were on each side of her head above the gravel, her chest raising up and down heavily as she looked up at him, gaze half-lidded. Joel’s gaze traveled lower. Just like he imagined, there was an opening a bit lower from where her tail started. The gaps between the scales had become almost non-existing, accommodating the perfect cunt that’d blossomed for him. It was wet. Glistening. He went down on his elbows, his mouth watering at the sight of it trembling. 

“So pretty,” he rasped. “Gonna fuckin’ devour you, honey.” 

He pressed his lips hungrily, tongue delving between her folds and tasting her from within. He didn’t separate as he moved his jaw. Her cunt fluttered and squeezed his tongue, begging him for more. Joel obliged, dragging his mouth up and down and purposefully bumping her clit with the curve of his nose. 

She was so darn wet. Soaked. He heard whimpers of his name but he was too far gone to grace the pleas with a response. Joel closed his lips around her clit and sucked, applying pressure with a pointed tongue. His fingers joined in on the fun, he pushed them in knuckle deep, scissoring them as he drew circles over the throbbing bundle of nerves. 

“That’s it,” he hummed, his breath warm against her core. “Fall apart for me, sweet temptress.” 

It was too much, too fast. 

His tongue was merciless, his words like a honeyed poison. Your mind was nothing but a haze. The world around you is left spinning. You didn’t remember the last time someone had you like this, so hungry and desperate. All you could do was beg for more. His fingers were thick and long inside of you, pressing harder and harder until he reached the spot that made you see stars. 

It didn’t take you long after that. His tongue flat over your clit, you felt your muscles begin to tighten, your scales practically vibrating in answer to the strokes of his mouth. 

His hand moved to the side of your face as he increased the pressure with his tongue, making you moan and thrust your hips against him. Your body was his to control and it responded eagerly to each touch, kiss, and lick. As his lips pressed harder and deeper, his mouth moving sloppily, your breathing began to quicken, your heart pounding in your ears amidst the sound of the waves lapping against your tail. 

He moaned into your pussy, your ears narrowed on the sound, forgetting all else. Feeling your slick becoming heavy on his tongue, he repeated the sound and your chest heaved, beasts tingling. You could feel your entire body tensing up, your fingers gripping his wet hair for leverage as you shuddered and exploded in his arms.  Your muscles tightened and quaked against him as his jaw and tongue continued their wicked work until finally, mercifully, you were released and slipped off the edge into the depths of rapturous bliss. A squirt of wetness soaked them both, filling his mouth and making a mess of his plump lips. 

Your world stilled and your eyes rolled back in your head as you lay there in his arms, savoring every second of nirvana that his tongue had so generously gifted to you. He didn’t stop until you were tugging at his hair. Joel did so with a soft growl, his gaze dark as he faced you, a wicked hunger still clouding his eyes. His hair still tight between your fingers, he parted his lips, and a string of saliva fell in a vicious drip from his tongue. You shuddered. Never breaking his gaze, he delved his fingers between the delicate folds and spread the mess he made. Debouched, was the only this you were able to think about. 

This man was every bit of hungry as you were. 

“Joel,” you whined upon feeling your arousal rapidly building between your legs once more. “I want to feel you.” you swallowed. “Want your cock.”  

“Say that again, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Convince me how bad you want it.” 

You weren't sure what to do, but you humored him anyway. Crunching up, you met him halfway in a wet kiss. “I want you to split me into two, Joel,” you whispered into his lips. “Want to feel the stretch of your cock. Want to feel that it’s real. I want you to fuck me so good that you’ll be spilling out of me as you take me again,” you dragged your lips down his throat. He was shaking. “Again,” a kiss. “And again. . .” 

“Fuck,” he moaned. “So filthy for such a pretty thing.” 

“Joel,” you whispered, ignoring him. You cupped his cock through his jeans and began to stroke him. His forehead fell to your shoulder, hips canting shallowly into your wanting palm. “Prove to me that humans can fuck just as well.” 

You’re not sure what it was—Jealousy? Pride? Whatever you said that got under his skin, you were glad. 

Joel pinned you to the gravel, his rough hands sliding from your shoulders to your waist. He stroked where the scales began, sending tremors and tingles up your body. He freed himself of his belt with one skilled hand and pulled out his cock. The tip glistened, precome still oozing from the tip. Your mouth watered. For a human, he was rather blessed. He eagerly stroked himself over you, his cock jutting from his fist. You warmed at the sight, slick wetting the inside of your thighs and adding to the mess. You couldn’t help it. There was just something so incredibly erotic about a man fucking his fist. It felt so primal. So instinctive about it.  

He pushed into you with a clipped groan, the movement almost punishing. Your insides clenched and all the air in your lungs seemed to desert you by the force of the thrust. Looking down at you, Joel smiled. The curl of his lips menacing and taunting. He pulled back agonizingly slow before he was rutting back into your spasming hole. You let out a sound between a hiss and a moan. His glee only seemed to heighten when you held on to his biceps, grounding yourself against the rock of his hips. 

“What’d you say, sweetheart?” he said, tone laced with venom. You were in a thick haze of lust, your mind finding trouble understanding his words. When you couldn’t answer, he slammed harder into the tight fist of your cunt. Your body drooled all over him and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Can humans fuck?” he said cruelly. 

Your mind was scattered. Especially when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh. His fingers began to move down your tail where the scales were most sensitive. Joel didn’t know this. As he skimmed a line back up with blunt nails, he was taken aback to feel you gripping him tight, slickness flowing from you like a broken fountain.

Your lungs burned. Your body nothing for of aflame. A strangled moan left him, the tightness of your cunt forcing him to slow. “Holy shit,” he moaned, jaw slack. “What the fuck—” His eyes went to meet yours only to find you hidden under your hands. An adorning smile grazed his face. “Hey, look at me,” he said and rolled his hips as an incentive. A short breath parted your lips. You lowered your hands, eyes tearing as you met his gaze. “Why so embarrassed darlin’? That was fuckin’ hot.” 

You didn’t answer. Not enjoying your silence, Joel again grazed your scales with his nails. He nearly came when you squeezed around him again, forcing the hitch of his breath. “You like when I do that?” he murmured. 

“Y-Yeah,” you answered. “They become sensitive during intercourse.” 

“Interestin’,” he hummed, looking down to where his cock was still buried deep. Keeping your hips pinned, he pulled out and grinded his cock over your tail instead. Your eyes grew wide from where it was glued. He made a delicious mess of the scales, slick and precome staining the vibrant blue and gray. Pleasure rippled across your tail and your brows furrowed, your expression melting in bliss. 

“I could stare at your face forever,” he muttered. “I don’t think I ever seen such a fucked out expression.” 

Heat gathered under your cheeks but honestly, you couldn’t really focus on it. Joel slipped back inside of you, despite how wet you were, you could still feel him stretching you wide. And with every wild thrust, he managed to get deeper and deeper. His cock pulsed, fingers now a constant pressure on your sensitive tail, “Gonna come,” he moaned, eyelids fluttering. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close until you felt the entirety of the man’s weight. 

You wanted to feel him dripping out of you and you made your message clear by holding him in place. He was vocal where his face was buried in your neck. Tongue and teeth abusing the skin. His movements were rapid, the sound of skin against skin echoed, cock pressing hard into your heat. He fucked you until he stole his third orgasm from you, it felt like a jolt of electricity, your slick coating his length and dripping down. It was so overwhelming that you bit where his neck met his shoulder. You ignored the fact that this marked him as yours, and that the mark of a mermaid would last for weeks. 

Joel didn’t mind the pain. In fact, it spurred him on. He whined into your skin, hammering until he spilled into you, filling you until it was spilling from where he was stretching you. The way you fluttered and clenched was too much for him, he fucked his come back into you, hearing it make those sloppy wet gushing noises against his hips. He drove his hips forward until there was nothing left of him. His moans bounced off of clenched teeth. 

And when your arms fell back to the gravel, limp with pleasure, he stopped. 

You sighed happily at the touch of his lips over your heated skin. He kissed a trail down to your breasts, kissing each one, his softening cock slipped out of you and he went lower. Kisses and licks on your stomach and lastly one placed on your trembling mound. 

Your hands hastily pulled him back up for a long, lazy kiss. It was full of emotion, each swipe of your tongue conveying something else. Gratitude, pleasure, love. 

“You’re healed aren’t you?” he murmured against your lips. 

“Yes.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Now what?” 

“Now,” you sigh. “I leave.” A humorless, bitter chuckle left your lips. “But I really don’t want to.” 

He answered almost immediately, “Then don’t.” 

Joel pulled back to look at you, his gaze warm like the sun dancing above waves. You let out a sigh. Just like the sun, the look was also blinding. “I can’t live in this cave forever.” 

His brows drew together with confusion and you worried that perhaps you accidentally said something else. He shook his head, “Who said anythin’ about livin’ in this cave?” Joel’s lips curled in amusement in answer to your shocked expression. “You were already livin’ close to the lighthouse, weren’t you? You can come and visit. And I can visit the shores more often, As long as you’re not on the other side of the sea, we can be together.” 

He looked at you expectantly, and when your silence grew, so did his doubts. “Right?” he asked. 

“Right,” you repeated. You giggled at his relieved expression and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I don’t know why I just assumed I’d have to live here. Like some sort of weird prison.” 

“Hmmm,” Joel smiled dragging his nose down from your temple to your cheek. He pulled you close and you laid your head over the expanse of his chest. “I guess I just fucked you that good.” 

“Don’t get so full of yourself. I was just taken by surprise.” 

“Sure, honey,” he answered, smile widening into a grin. “Whatever you say so.” 

(i made this moodboard before fanna's stunning bday gift to me which is the gif above but I adore this mood board so I decided to put it here thank you for reading xx)

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Yandere Euron Greyjoy w/ Siren!Reader

Euron grew up hearing the tales of the children of the sea; the sirens who sang their songs and all the men they lured to their deaths, along with their ships. He’d always dreamed of coming across one, catching it and having it for his own.

The thought of having his siren never strayed far from his mind, everytime he was at sea it was all he could think of. He would swear he felt something deep in the water watching him. Following him. Studying him. Teasing him. He knew they were out there, waiting for him. And this only ignited his need to find his siren all the more.

Usually most ironborn take a share of the plunder from their pillaging, especially the captains but not Euron. No, he knows there is a much more valuable treasure out there. Something far more worthwhile. Something only for him.

When the day finally comes and Euron hears that hauntingly beautiful song, he knows he’s got his siren and he’s not going to lose them. Whatever plans, whatever destination there was before is quickly forgotten in place of finally getting what belongs to him.

And what a sight you are to behold when he does finally catch you. You’re beautiful, so frighteningly beautiful. But he’s not scared, after all this is Euron we’re talking about, on the contrary he’s excited. Very excited. You have him feeling euphoric and he loves it. The look of complete shock, anger and fear at finally being caught that washes over your mesmerizing face has Euron feeling even more euphoric. He likes that look on you, he likes it a lot.

As much as Euron has grown so accustomed to this drawn out game of cat and mouse, a game that he has come to take much excitement and anticipation in, he couldn’t be more thrilled to have finally caught you. A part of him almost wants to throw you back into the sea just to be able to chase after and catch you all over again but he’d much rather finally claim what’s been rightfully his all this time.

People said he was mad, that the seas had corrupted him but he knew better than to listen to them. After all he’s got you now, the proof to his unrelentingness. And he can’t bring himself to take his eyes off of you. He doesn’t want to miss a thing; every part of your being, Euron wants to memorize it all.

He’s already prepared a place to keep you, a tank he had specifically made just for you. Quite a well crafted and spacious enough little home where he can watch you whenever he pleases and you’re entirely unable to hide away from his prying gaze. You are his trophy, his gift from the sea that he has waited so long to receive. Of course he wants to be able to look upon you whenever he wishes, it’s his right after all. After everything he’s done to get you in the first place the least he deserves is to see his catch in all its maddening glory.

And maddening you are. He thrives on the hateful look you send his way, the gnashing of your teeth whenever he gets too close, the way you thrash your beautifully scaled body against the thick cage-like glass of your new habitat trying to free yourself. Euron isn’t stupid, of course he’d have your new little home be thoroughly enforced. He may not exactly know what all you are capable of but he has a few ideas and your immense strength was certainly one of them.

After all this time it’s no surprise that Euron would be addicted to your voice, to your song. He’s only ever heard it a few times in his life but he saved it to memory, he would’ve been a fool not to. Euron even took up whistling a similar tune, primarily to draw you out but it was something that just stuck and he never let it go but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. So once he finally had you that song, your song, was all he ever wanted to hear. And he had nothing to interrupt it, no other noise to take away from it. He’d made sure of that when he cut out all his crewmens’ tongues. You may not have necessarily been the sole reason behind his decision but you were one of them. And if he didn’t have to bark out orders he would have taken their ears too.

As much as Euron would love to have his precious little siren wrapped around his body, he knows they’d break him without a second thought. They’d rip his throat out and spit it back in his face with a sharp toothed grin. Don’t even get him started on the drowning bit, not like he isn’t use to it given his being an Ironborn, if anything it excites him more. But none of these things could possibly strike even an ounce of fear into Euron, I mean he’s committed so much worse with his own bare hands, instead it all captivates him all the more. You truly were meant for him and only him, weren’t you? He’ll make sure to take real good care of you, his Queen of the Sea.

[motherofdogs1010]

Siren I (Dark!Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: A new singer has come to Small Heath and has unfortunately enraptured the soul of a big-time, Birmingham gangster...

Warnings: 18+ only, eventual NONCON/DUBCON smut, forced marriage, dark!Tommy, obsessed!Tommy, singer!reader, eventual pinv sex, eventual pregnancy, dark shit will be happening

A/N: Song used ''Young and Beautiful"- Lana Del Ray

Dividers @firefly-graphics Banner @vase-of-lilies

Tommy was skeptical when Harry had said he found a singer, the man saying that he needed Grace more for the bar tending than her singing. Harry had said that Grace protested but soon enough shut her mouth once he had found a suitable singer for the pub, someone Harry had said was the daughter of his best friend.

Tommy had been in the snug with his brothers when he heard a woman singing, her voice lulling him in a way that differed from Grace's soft singing.

It intrigued Tommy so much that he stood from his seat, ignoring the looks of his brothers and walking out of the snug to see a woman standing on one of the chairs.

Her voice was hauntingly beautiful as he listened to the song.

I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now Hot summer nights, mid-July When you and I were forever wild The crazy days, city lights The way you'd play with me like a child

Her hair hung in thick curls and her eyes were drawing him in as lightly swayed as she continued her song, Tommy noted that the other men in the bar were calm as they listened. He never realized how calm a pub full of men could feel even when Grace had been singing away her tunes.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?

She wore a black dress, a odd color to wear since most of the women here in Birmingham tended to stray away from such a funeral color unless necessary. Tommy took a drag of his cigarette as he went to lean on the bar, listening to the song that felt almost like a sad love letter in a way.

Dear Lord, when I get to Heaven Please let me bring my man When he comes, tell me that you'll let him in Father, tell me if you can

His mind, for once, felt calm like the voices of tunnels were no longer existing in his battle-wounded mind as Tommy ignored Grace's presence. The woman singing felt as if she was one of the mermaid singers drawing him into the sea from his ship, ready to drown him so he could be with her forever.

All that grace, all that body All that face makes me wanna party He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

Peace was not something Tommy had been granted since the war, using drugs, alcohol, and prostitutes to just get by.

But her voice was drawing him so well and his mind was quiet!

Quiet, can you believe it?

He needed that quiet, he needed her! Tommy brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled the nicotine as he mind began to unravel as he listened and watched.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

He needed to possess her for himself, break her down until all she knew was him and that healing voice singing for her whenever he wanted, whenever he needed.

France had changed Tommy and it wasn't for the better. He wasn't the same man who envisioned himself working with horses and laughing along to the newest joke John had come up with.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful? Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful?

"Another one, Tommy?" Grace asked, holding the whiskey bottle.

Another song was what he needed and he was going to do whatever it took to have it all to himself.

Her time singing had come to a close that night, Y/N in the back room of the Garrison collecting her purse and lighting a cigarette as Harry came into the room with a small envelope.

" 'Ere you go", he said with a grin. "How's Small Heath holding to your expectations?"

"It's certainly not California", she remarked and he chuckled.

"Ya use to all the sunshine", Harry joked before leaving.

California, specifically Los Angeles, had been her home and before that, France had been her temporary home as she was a nurse during the war.

Coming home had been something of shell-shock for her, she had witnessed blood and guts and heard the screams of men she was treating to coming back home with her mother where she was expected to be normal. She tried for her family's sake, she truly did but in the end, it felt suffocating and thus, her move outside of America.

Collecting her things, Y/N looked inside the envelope at the bills given to her when she heard the door open once again.

"Hello there."

[rabbitblackx]

Hello! How are you?

May I request for Michael, Jason and Brahms with a S/O who is talented musician and likes to play something for them?

I personally play flute and I want to know what would they think about it and how would they react.

If you already done something like this before, that's okay, feel free to ignore it.

Thank you in advance

Have a nice day / night!

Hope u have a good day too! I added Freddy like u asked :)

Slashers with a Musician!Reader

Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger and Brahms Heelshire

Michael Myers💖

Michael often stood in the darkest corner of your room and listened to you play your instrument. Sometimes, you didn’t even know he was there. It was best not to acknowledge him at these times. Because he was a little embarrassed at how much your music moved him. Hearing any teasing from you instantly ruined the moment

After murdering his victims, Michael searched their homes for any instruments for you. He welled up with the tiniest bit of pride when you played the gifts he got you. It was his favourite sound

You were always learning creepy or classy songs for Michael. Any Halloween themes were his go to’s. When he came home grouchy or down, you lightened the mood with a gentle song from your instrument. He stood stiff as a board as you played, mask vacant of any emotion. Underneath it though, Michael was being soothed… and he was grateful to you for that

Jason Voorhees💖

Jason could listen to you play your instrument all day. It was as pretty to him as the birds chirping, or the lake hitting the shore. He lost track of time sitting there in your cabin. You played your instrument for him so beautifully. It was literally the highlight of his day

Jason rummaged through old cabins and junk in search of an instrument for you. They were usually pretty old timey or rusty, but you made it work. You had to. Jason’s happiness was everything to you

You asked Jason of old songs from his childhood, so you could learn to play them. You played a lot of songs from the fifties for just him with your instrument. It really did bring him back to a better time

Although Jason missed the simple life he once lived with his mother, you were a fine substitute. No, that wasn’t the right word. You were better than that. You were his new life

Freddy Krueger💖

Freddy really enjoyed listening to you play your instrument. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, an impressed smirk on his burned face. You had your back to him, mind somewhere else as you became one with your beautiful music. He thought you were just soo cute!

Freddy also found your musical side to be very sexy. He was always asking you to play your instrument, even requesting certain songs. You of course learned them all, and held little concerts for him in your living room!

When you met with Freddy in the dreamworld, he let you play all the music to your heart’s desire. He could spend the entirety of your sleep just jamming out with you

Freddy usually got you to play something slow and sexy on your instrument before you two made love. It really set the mood, you know? Plus, you were so good at it! How could he resist?

Brahms Heelshire💖

Brahms played an instrument too! He loved to play songs with you. It was one of his favourite things to do, like, ever

Brahms found you playing classical music on your instrument hauntingly beautiful. He watched you from the walls as you became one with the beautiful song. He was blind to everything else in that moment, absolutely enthralled by your moonlit form

Brahms snuck out of the walls and into the living room with you. You paid no mind, closing your eyes as you continued to play. He slowly circled around you in the dark, taking in every curve and swell of your body. The slow, alluring music coming from your instrument sent chills down his spine

Brahms was patient. He would wait for your song to be over, and for you to set your instrument down. He’d let the afterglow of your stunning music sit in the air momentarily. Then when you relaxed your shoulders in the dark, he’d pounce

[obae-me]

Hello, and welcome to another installment of niche content containing another mash of my two special interests. Written out of boredom at the airport. Today's edition, fueled with my excitement of being able to go to none other than Miku Expo 2024, I give:

The Brothers As My Favorite Vocaloid Songs!

Yes, I know, please, quell your excitement. I know everyone was waiting for this one. I will take no criticisms or judgments, only enthusiastic additions.

Warning: While nothing stated in this post needs a full content warning, if anyone decides to look up these songs, many songs themselves have plenty of individual warnings, so please search with caution.

Lucifer:

Now, the song I think he'd actually enjoy listening to is Daughter of Evil. It's got tragedy behind it, the song is a bit more classical/waltzy, exactly the kind of thing he likes. However based off his vibes alone, I'm gonna say Honey I'm Home. Mostly because I love Ghost and Pals but also because religious trauma. And I know other people agree with me because I've seen fanart of it.

Mammon:

I think Mammon would listen to Sand Planet. Oo, or Bring it On. Do I have a detailed explanation as to why? Not really in so many words, but it just seems like something he'd listen to, I feel it in my bones. I will not be taking any questions. Now the song I think he embodies? Wildcard. I mean, the whole motif is about playing cards, it's upbeat and fast paced and I love it and I love Kasane Teto even more.

Levi:

I will physically fight anyone who doesn't think Levi listens to Rolling Girl at least once a day (I won't actually fight anyone but I feel very strongly on this matter). It helps him get through hard times but it also makes him cry. Which...same, Levi, same. But if Leviathan were to be a song itself, I'd have to pass it over to Volt Tackle by Deco*27. Pokémon, talking about fighting and struggling at first to capture someone's love? Oo, or Digital Girl. It's got him written all over it. (Or if I want to be sad, give him Anthropophobia)

Satan:

See, Satan is hard because I never know if I envision him listening to heavy metal or if he prefers soft melodies. And, I mean, I know he can like more than one genre at once, but picking THE song I think he'd listen to is hard... but if I'm going off of what I like as well as gut instinct... Abstract Nonsense. Now, selected off his character, I'd have to pick Hikari Yo. It's just very emotional and desperate and the poor demon boi is like that on the inside quite a lot. WAIT or Pathalogical Facade! Oo, lots of options for Good Ol Satan.

Asmo:

Easy, he'd love Gimmie×Gimmie and I don't think I need any further explanation on this opinion. I actually think Asmo would unironically like a lot of vocaloid songs, personally. And as for his songification, I handpick Aishite, Aishite, Aishite. And I know there's a lot of different people's interpretations to this song and everything and people get very... I guess territorial when it comes to this song (at least from specific corners I've seen) but it makes sense to me. It's a really popular song and it's hauntingly beautiful and it's about wanting to be loved and adored and this is MY post so I can say whatever I want about it.

Beel:

Beel is another one that's hard for me to pin down... I think his music taste (joke not intended) is rather eclectic. He probably actually has no real preference other than more upbeat songs to make it easier to work out to. In which case I get to pick whatever I wish. For him I would make him listen to Happy Halloween. I don't care what time of year it is, it's cute and upbeat and about getting treats and it's one of my favorite songs ever. Now one to embody him?... Goodness that's even harder. I would love to say Appetite of a People Pleaser, but Beel's not a people pleaser... I actually don't know! Maybe I am a sham of a fan. I am open to suggestions for my baby Beel.

Belphie:

You know I have to pick Tokyo Teddy Bear. This mans is too edgy not to listen to it all too often. Plus, it's a classic. And, you know I have to make this all even sadder by giving him the song Error. Because I like to make myself cry. And Belphie needs a good cry, let's be honest with ourselves.

I'm also going to add the Distortanist as an honorable mention for unhinged Lesson 16 Belphie.

[a-strange-inkling]

{new segment}

daily headcanons 💫

chrissy has a quiet, hauntingly beautiful voice. however, she always insists that she can’t sing. her mother always told her she has no talent for it. she always blushes and shakes her head adamantly whenever eddie asks to hear her for himself. during their summer in the trailer together, he only manages to catch little essences of it. she’ll go stark quiet when he turns down the radio that she’s singing along to, or if he stops to listen to her humming when she’s watering the plants or washing the dishes. she gives him the side eye when he suggests singing a song out loud while he teaches her guitar to help her follow along. it’s not until a few months later, after he comes home from work and hears her playing his acoustic through his open window, that a sweet lamenting keen accompanying the chords fills his ears. it’s strange and sad and soft. the most lovely, otherworldly sound he’s ever heard in his life. he just listens outside, leaning against the wall by the window, letting her get lost in her song. a similar aria can be heard in the background on several of the tracks of corroded coffin’s first album.

[schnanko]

i have many thoughts on nitw and there's not enough nitw content out there so I'm going to make my own content.

the song "ol pickaxe" plays when you go into the hardware store where bea works. the song has a distinctly "home depot" sound - it's the kind of light, casual, calming, instrumental music that you hear in hardware stores.

but there's more to it than that. there's an undeniable sadness. it is the sound of something that was once known, if not meaningful, but has now become only an emotional burden.

not something bad, or evil. i don't think bea sees the pickaxe as evil. just something exhausting. she grew up in that store. she may have always wanted out, but there was probably a time when she was a kid that it really felt like home. she loved it like you love your childhood home. it's safe, but it's not forever.

but she's been there too long. she and her dad are living in an apartment now. whatever sense of stability the store gave is now so unwelcome. the only thing in her life that hasn't been ripped away from her is the store. the curse of her family that's fallen on her, no matter how desperately she tries to get away. what was once a warm hug is now a pillow over her face.

she resents it at this point. the store has beyond overstayed its welcome in her life. this is music that will make you cry if you listen to it for too long. as its own tune, if it were outside of the game, I am fully convinced that it would still convey the feelings of desperation to leave something that had such an impact on you as a child. she's wistful for a future that she feels has already gone by her.

the song is beautiful and hauntingly soothing. but no matter what it tries to be, it's just a tune in a hardware store in a dying town in the rust belt.

[falafel14]

Jack Wolfe as Gabe Goodman

So I've had a few "Tell me everything!" responses to my recent post about the Donmar Warehouse's stunning new production of Next to Normal. Knowing the audience here, I'll narrow my focus to writing about what I know my fellow 'Six of Crows' fans will most want to hear - Jack's role as Gabe. I won't be recapping the show itself, as I assume most folks reading this will have listened to the soundtrack, read the script, or watched a Broadway bootleg. Or at least I hope so, because below you will find MAJOR SPOILERS for Next to Normal and specifically the Donmar's staging of it.

Gabe is introduced to us as the Goodman's teenage son, who seemingly has a close affectionate relationship with his mother, Diana, but frosty relationships with his father Dan and sister Natalie, neither of whom acknowledge his presence. About thirty minutes in we are shown exactly why. Diana brings out an 18th birthday cake when the family have Nat's boyfriend Henry over for dinner and it is revealed that today would have been Gabe's birthday...if he'd been alive. But Gabe died when he was a baby and Diana has only been imagining him growing up all these years.

Up until this point, Jack has been playing Gabe as a cheeky rebellious teenager, but when he slinks back on stage to blow out the candles on his cake, he becomes a much more ethereal and impish presence. In I Am The One, his expression transforms from sweet and devoted when singing to his mom, to menacing and malevolent when singing to his dad. Gabe manifests as different personas for each member of his family and it's thrilling to watch as Jack shifts between them all. When Natalie comes downstairs to sing Superboy and the Invisible Girl we see Gabe as the cocky conceited older sibling, who seems to revel in being their mother's favorite.

In her next therapy session, Diana is asked to speak about her son and this is when we get Gabe's showstopping I'm Alive solo. This number really did raise the roof. I'll admit when I saw videos of Jack singing it at Tom Kitt's concert, I was worried he wasn't giving the song the necessary attack. But on stage he goes absolutely full-throttle with it. He starts at the top of the stairs with a mic stand, looking like the frontman of a rock band, then he brings the mic down, roaming all over the floor. At one point in the song, Natalie and Dan have an argument and Gabe comes to stand between them, looking amused as he passes the mic between them. However Gabe starts to lose some of his swagger as Diana's doctor suggests that - as 18 is the age that children typically leave home - maybe Diana should think about her son this way and finally let him go.

In the next scene, Diana is in the kitchen, clearing out Gabe's things. She holds up a baby-grow and then starts playing a music box she used to use to help Gabe to sleep. Gabe comes down the stairs with a rucksack and duffle bag, like he's a kid being kicked out of the house by his parents. Diana can't seem to go through with it as she pulls him into a dance and they end up hugging with Gabe's head tucked under his mother's chin, like a needy child. This leads into There's a World, a hauntingly beautiful song with a very sinister undertone as we learn this is Gabe leading Diana towards a suicide attempt. This song and Catch Me I'm Falling are an excellent display of Jack's high range (he'd make a wonderful Orpheus in Hadestown - the UK production is coming next year, so...please??)

Following the suicide attempt, Diana is given shock therapy and consequently loses her memories of the last eighteen years. In the early part of Act 2 and for the song Aftershocks, Gabe is up in one of the upstairs rooms, like he's been locked in a cell - not gone, but no longer able to get to Diana. When Diana finds and plays Gabe's music box, there's this very chilling sight of Gabe's silhouette, his hands pressing to the screen, as he sings along to the melody. The lighting here is eerily reminiscent of a sonogram. When Diana regains her memory of her lost son, Gabe breaks free of the room, comes down the stairs to sing his I'm Alive (Reprise) from on top of the kitchen counter. After his wife's relapse, Dan crumbles to the floor, his back pressed to the kitchen counter. Gabe disappears behind the other side of the counter, and (I'm told, I couldn't see from my angle) he sits in the same position as Dan. They both stay like this for about 15mins while scenes with Diana, Nat and Henry take place.

As Diana leaves, Dan finally rises from the floor and begins singing his I am the One (Reprise). In other videos of this song that I have seen, Gabe is played quite aggressively, stalking around Dan, goading his father into acknowledging him. Jack does this scene very differently and effectively. He stays behind the counter, his eyes downcast, his manner meek as if quietly pleading for his father's attention. When Dan yells out "Why didn't you go with her?!" Gabe leaps up onto the counter and throws his arms around Dan, desperately clinging to him. When they get to the chorus, Dan turns round to face Gabe, gripping his arms. Then at the end, Dan staggers back and tearfully says his son's name for the first time. When Gabe responds with his "Hi Dad", Jack's face his full of shocked awe. He plays it like a child realizing the father he thought hated him, loved him all along. It's a devastating moment that had everyone in tears.

After the song, Dan reaches out a hand towards Gabe, but he stops as Natalie comes downstairs. Dan tells Nat her mother has left and Nat asks him - "So it's just me and you for now?" and there's a hesitation where Dan glances at Gabe, who is still sitting on the counter. When Dan finally answers yes, it's just the two of them, Gabe's expression is accepting, not resentful like earlier in the show. As he leaves to go upstairs, Gabe gently touches Nat's hand, almost like an apology. Natalie gives the slightest reaction, as if she is sensing something. It's a beautiful resolve to Gabe's role, and when he appears for the last time for his verse in Light, he no longer feels like a malevolent spirit, but more like this serene angel watching over his family as they all try to heal and go on with lives.

This is honestly a star-making performance from Jack as a young musical theatre actor. And as much as I want Jack and the other Crows actors to be off filming their spinoff show once the strikes are resolved, I also feel strongly that Jack belongs on the stage. Between his acting, his presence and his vocals, he's sure to be a performer in demand in the West End. Here's hoping there's award nominations to come. He's deserving of them.

[cherrygirlystuff]

Sleaze Sounds: Your Ultimate Guide to Indie Sleaze Music

Hey babe! 🌸 Ready to dive into the raw, edgy world of indie sleaze music? Welcome to Sleaze Sounds, where we’re all about curating the perfect playlists and spotlighting both old and new underground indie bands that embody the gritty, rebellious spirit of the indie sleaze era. Whether you’re reliving those iconic tunes or discovering fresh sounds, we’ve got everything you need to turn up the volume and embrace the sleaze. So grab your headphones, get comfy, and let’s rock out! 🎸🎧

Sleaze Sounds: Curating the Perfect Indie Sleaze Playlist 🌟

The indie sleaze era was all about raw energy, rebellious vibes, and a touch of glam. Creating the perfect playlist is all about capturing that spirit—mixing classic tracks with fresh indie gems to keep the energy high and the vibes just right. Here’s how to build a playlist that will transport you back to those legendary indie sleaze days while introducing you to new artists who are keeping the spirit alive.

1. Classic Indie Sleaze Tracks: The Essentials 🎶

To set the mood, start with the tracks that defined the indie sleaze era. These are the songs that made you want to dance, cry, and everything in between. Here’s a list of essential tracks that should definitely be on your playlist:

“Maps” by Yeah Yeah Yeahs: A quintessential indie sleaze anthem with its raw emotion and unforgettable hooks. This track captures the essence of the era and always gets the party going.

“I Will Follow You into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie: This song’s hauntingly beautiful lyrics and mellow vibe make it a perfect addition to any indie sleaze playlist.

“Reptilia” by The Strokes: With its gritty guitars and infectious energy, this track is a staple of the indie rock scene and a must-have for any sleaze-inspired mix.

“Take Me Out” by Franz Ferdinand: An indie rock classic that’s both danceable and edgy. It’s perfect for getting into that sleazy, rebellious groove.

“Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes: This track’s iconic riff and raw energy make it a timeless addition to any indie playlist.

Playlist Tip: Balance your classic tracks with some deeper cuts and lesser-known gems to keep things interesting. Mix up the tempo to keep the energy flowing and the listeners engaged.

2. Fresh Indie Gems: New Bands with That Sleaze Vibe 🎸

While classic tracks are essential, it’s also important to spotlight new artists who are carrying on the indie sleaze tradition. Here are some fresh bands and artists that are bringing that raw, edgy vibe into the present day:

Yves Tumor: Blending experimental sounds with a sleazy, rock edge, Yves Tumor is a must-listen for anyone into modern indie sleaze. Their music is raw, emotional, and totally captivating.

The Voidz: Known for their eclectic sound and rebellious attitude, The Voidz are a perfect fit for anyone looking for a contemporary take on the indie sleaze aesthetic.

Gus Dapperton: With his unique blend of indie pop and rock, Gus Dapperton brings a fresh, modern twist to the indie sleaze vibe. His music is both catchy and edgy, perfect for any playlist.

Sophie: For those looking to explore the intersection of pop and experimental music, Sophie’s tracks offer a fresh, futuristic take on the indie sleaze style.

Cigarettes After Sex: Their dreamy, melancholic sound offers a modern take on the indie sleaze aesthetic, blending introspective lyrics with a hauntingly beautiful sound.

Discovery Tip: Use music discovery apps like Spotify or Apple Music to find similar artists and tracks. Create a “Radio” based on one of your favorite indie sleaze tracks to find new and exciting music.

3. Building the Ultimate Sleaze Sounds Playlist: Tips and Tricks ✨

Now that you’ve got a mix of classic and fresh tracks, it’s time to fine-tune your playlist. Here’s how to create the ultimate indie sleaze mix that’ll keep everyone rocking out:

Mix Up the Genres: Indie sleaze is all about blending different sounds and styles. Don’t be afraid to mix rock, punk, electronic, and pop elements to keep things interesting.

Pay Attention to Flow: Arrange your tracks in a way that flows naturally. Start with some high-energy hits, then mix in a few mellow tunes, and end with a bang. Think about how each track transitions into the next.

Keep It Personal: Add a few of your own favorite tracks or deep cuts that mean something special to you. Personal touches make your playlist unique and give it a bit of your own style.

Update Regularly: The indie music scene is always evolving, so keep your playlist fresh by adding new tracks and artists regularly. This way, you’ll always have a mix that’s current and exciting.

Playlist Tip: Share your playlist with friends and get their feedback. They might have some great suggestions or new tracks to add!

Final Thoughts, Gorgeous: Embrace the Sleaze with Your Perfect Playlist 🌟

And there you have it—your ultimate guide to curating the perfect indie sleaze playlist! Whether you’re reliving the glory days of the 2000s or discovering fresh new artists, Sleaze Sounds is all about capturing that raw, rebellious spirit. With the right mix of classic tracks and modern gems, you’ll have the perfect soundtrack for any indie-inspired moment.

What are your go-to indie sleaze tracks or new discoveries? Share your playlist in the comments and let’s keep the sleaze vibes alive! 💕

[jonathanbiers]

eddie was both the lead guitarist and vocalist in corroded coffin up until the upside down happened to him.

he healed, regained his strength, made up for the months he was in the hospital and couldn't play his guitar. he wasn't even that rusty really, just a little weak in the hands after everything. he's impatient and easily frustrated about it but looking back, it doesn't actually take too long to get back to where he was.

the problem is his voice.

the health of his vocal chords wasn't exactly the first thing on his mind when the bats were going at him and he was screaming for his life, it wasn't even on the list. and when he tried to get back into jamming with the guys and found he couldn't hit the notes he used to and it fucking hurt when he tried, he was absolutely crushed. that was an outlet for him, a way to get the complex emotions out in the form of poetry, to bare the softest parts of his soul and then shield them with killer guitar solos and brain-melting drums, now taken from him.

enter robin, who's become a close friend after everything they went through together. they bond over being queer in a small conservative town, they butt heads over eddie's smoking habit, they listen to each other's music and come to actually like it, they vent to each other about their romantic misadventures, they become best friends rather quickly.

so robin's heart breaks for eddie when he tells her about this newest thing the year of '86 took from him. she does her best to reassure him, she hugs him and lets him mope as long as he needs, they watch eddie's comfort movies together, and it helps him feel less like shit.

then one day, the two of them and steve are on a little impromptu road trip, and they're singing in the car. eddie's heard robin sing before, she likes to put on silly voices and sing along to the top-40s eddie loves to tease steve about. but he's never heard her sing before, not like this, not to a song she obviously has tremendous love for. her voice is warm and the song she's singing is a little soft and eddie is captivated in an instant. he has to stop himself from pulling over on the highway just to urge her to pursue a career as a musician.

robin tries to brush it off, jokes, "i'll do it only if you let me join corroded coffin."

"done," eddie agrees without second thought.

robin thinks he's joking too, but he's not. he's so not joking, he's too busy trying to imagine what it would sound like. he thinks it'd sound pretty fucking good, such a soft voice to balance out the harshness of their music. he knows robin's capable of other styles, too, he's heard her impressions of the screaming sometimes utilized in his preferred genre, her natural speaking voice has a nice bit of rasp to it, but something about the gentleness with which she was singing in the car just speaks to eddie. if it'd be anything like what his mind is conjuring up, he'd describe it as hauntingly beautiful, and he just has to hear it for himself. even if nothing comes of it.

robin still thinks he's joking when he sets the mic up at corroded coffin's weekly band practice, which both steve and robin had taken to attending. but he isn't, he digs his notebook out of his backpack and hands it to her, walks her through the melodies and she picks it up quick. she's been in band for years, music is something that just comes naturally to her. eddie doesn't know why the fuck he didn't think of this sooner.

it ends up sounding just as good as he imagined. her range isn't the same as eddie's used to be but it works, it morphs their music into something mesmerizing, something that bends the limits of the genre. robin sings eddie's lyrics on tuesday at the hideout mostly to entertain eddie because she loves her friend so much even though he's fucking crazy, and at least half a dozen people approach them after, tell them how different it sounds from what they're used to, how instead of being put off by it, it just works. they seem just as blown away by it as eddie was.

robin joins the band officially not long after that, and they start gaining attention locally. anyone who listened to them before would tell you they were good, but being a woman-fronted metal band wasn't all that common yet, and paired with the new elements robin's voice brought to the songs, they stood out from their peers a lot more easily. they're playing in a dive bar in indianapolis when they're approached by a scout from a record label, and they all just kind of look at each other, a mix of disbelief and happiness and seriously is this fucking happening right now?

they don't take it - eddie's heard of the record label this guy is from, and they're known for screwing over their artists and leaving them scrounging for enough to put food on the table. but it's a push for the five of them to start taking it a bit more seriously, start on an actual cohesive album instead of a bunch of songs with little relevance to each other slapped together on a cassette.

eddie and robin work together on the lyrics, and their first self-made album ends up being something that's hard to pin down to one specific genre. but it's good shit, eddie can tell, they get some tapes made and sell them when they play at bars around indiana. the offers keep coming, but they're smart, and they know their worth. they wait for the one that fits, and it's fucking perfect.

[nightlyrequiem]

You fed us 💗Hyper-fem × Valeria💗 (ty sm <3 ily) Now, would you mind sparing some

🩸Creepy-Goth × Valeria🩸?

AHHH I love the gothic subculture. I wanted to be goth when I was younger, but I was both too poor to buy any clothes and not crafty enough to make or alter my own. I also couldn't get into the music 😔

I'm not sure if you wanted a one-shot or headcanons but I feel headcanons will be best to cover everything!

Will forever have a place in my heart though <3

Valeria with a Goth S/O

A goth in a small town with a very warm climate is very uncommon. In all her thirty-eight years of living Valeria had never seen a goth person IRL. You were in such an odd place too. Well, not odd for normal-dressed dressed people. Seeing you in your long black flowing skirt with your layered black tops and tangles of jewelry caught her a little off guard. Even your makeup seemed unusual. White face with exaggerated eyeliner and contour, black lipstick. And you were just in a coffee shop ordering a coffee.

She approached you, because of course she did, she couldn't just not see what was going on. You were sat at a table by yourself with your laptop. Valeria's first ever words to you were "It's not Halloween yet." She thought it was funny, but you just gave her a singular bored look and went right back to ignoring her. You've heard it all.

Valeria eventually introduced herself like a normal person and asked genuine questions. You were so eloquent and poetic with your words. Using romantic language to explain your hobbies and interests to her.

It didn't take long for Valeria to snatch you up. She did her best to court you. Listened to all the songs and watched the movies you recommended her so she could have conversations about them with you. She even brought you 'animal' bones to add to your collection. Watching your eyes light up made her day.

Most people are weirded out when they find out you're into taxidermy and collecting bones. Why would you do that? That's so weird. You are unstable. Blah blah blah. Valeria didn't seem to mind though. Sometimes she'd even tag along when you went out in search of dead things. She'd even bring you roadkill, how romantic.

Your home is filled with cleaned bones, taxidermized animals, and dried plants. You were very proud to tell her that you cleaned some of the bones yourself. Which devolved into you explaining the process. A bucket filled with water, let it soak, add peroxide, get a toothbrush and carefully clean off any remaining skin or fur. Valeria admired how passionate you were about this.

Other people would've been weirded out. You've been compared to Leatherface and Ed Gein. It always saddened you that people couldn't see the beauty of it'. You were giving a dead thing a new purpose.

Valeria LOVED watching you get ready. Sometimes you'd have hauntingly beautiful music playing in the background or a horror movie. For obvious reasons, Valeria really liked that you weren't all that frightened about blood and gore.

Also, I definitely believe that Valeria has let you goth her up at least once. (And I think she secretly enjoyed it.)

Anyway, back to what I was saying, she likes to watch you get ready. Watching you tease and hairspray your hair was relaxing for her. Corsets, big boots, collard, ruffled blouses, long skirts. Your fingers always clad in chunky rings with bats or spiders or dark gems. Valeria proudly accompanies you in public, showing you off. Or so she thinks. You're really just running mundane errands.

Sometimes you'll say something odd or off-putting. Other people will give you weird looks but not Valeria. She adores how your mind works. She also loves how knowledgeable about bugs and spiders you are. She personally will kill spiders, but she's watched you pick up the non-venomous ones bare handed to either look at them closer or to release them. (I'm heavily projecting here because I love spiders. My favorite is the Goliath Bird Eating Spider, which lives in the rainforest areas of South America.)

She killed one in front of you and found out very fast that you did not like that. She wonders how you'd react to finding out she kills people too. With all the horror movies and books you read she'd think that you would be fine with that. You're very open and passionate about your world views though and Valeria knows you probably wouldn't be.

Like I said, you live in a warmer climate. Las Almas, Mexico to be exact. The scorching sun and all black, heavy clothes don't mix well. Valeria has taken up to carrying around icepacks and bottles of water. She also gifted you an umbrella to keep yourself shaded under1. Black of course. The canopy tapers into the outer ribs like a bat's wing.

Valeria likes it when you plan dates. It sounds cliche but you often set up dusk time picnics in the local cemetery. You're very respectful about the dead. Not trampling over the graves. Picnicking there isn't that bad anyway because the dead are probably happy to get some visitors.

Valeria loves you and all your quirks.

[icycoldninja]

I’m back again with another idea:

A reader with a hauntingly beautiful voice got caught humming “Once upon a dream” to her daughter to sleep by the DMC guys

Reader was a single mom whose husband died of war/devils/etc… and she raised her daughter alone until they came into the picture

P/S: The version of “Once upon a dream” where it was sung by Lana is a good example of what her voice could sound like, if not a little bit more deep and eerie

OK, might be a little short, but enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Reader with beautiful voice headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante happened to stroll past your daughter's bedroom door and suddenly froze in his tracks.

-He thought he'd heard ghostly voices coming from that room, but upon further inspection, he discovered it was just you singing.

-Dante was honestly shocked. Firstly, how could your daughter fall asleep to that haunting noise, and secondly, since when did you sing like that?

-Not like he was scared or anything, Dante thought your voice and the song you were singing were both pretty cool, and lingered in the doorway to hear it.

-He was glad to watch you and your daughter get some quality bonding time, considering how rough things had been for you two in the past.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil could hear the eerie humming all the way from downstairs. He thought you'd left the radio on or something and went up to look.

-He followed the sound all the way up to your daughter's room, which was odd since she didn't have any music players.

-For a second, Vergil began to think a demon had gotten into the house and was working its sick magic by singing to your little girl.

-Then he saw you sitting by your child's bed, humming to her softly while stroking her hair as she slept. The whole situation reminded Vergil of how Eva would sit and read to him when he was little.

-Vergil quietly entered the room and stood next to you, smiling. He was glad to be able to witness this moment, and how happy the two of you looked.

□ Nero □

-Nero was busy doing his thing and cleaning his prosthetics, letting you have some quiet time with your daughter, when he caught wind of this haunting singing.

-At first he thought he was hearing things, but as time passed, Nero realized he was not hallucinating and that these sounds were coming from somewhere in his house.

-Nero tracked the music to your daughter's room, where he found you softly singing to your sleeping child.

-He never knew you could sing like this, and was honestly quite impressed.

-Relieved that nothing strange was going on, Nero left you two alone to enjoy your time together, not wanting to interfere.

● V ●

-V was relaxing on the couch with his familiars, reading poetry as usual, when he heard your faint singing.

-Your voice was eerily soothing, like a loving, nurturing ghost was whispering to him through the walls. V had never heard anything like this before, and now that he had, was pleasantly surprised.

-He knew you were singing to your daughter because she was the only other person in your life besides him who could get to see that sweet side of you that you normally kept hidden.

-V chuckled to himself, wondering what it would be like to fall asleep listening to your comforting, but also haunting singing. Your daughter was so lucky.

-Ah well, V would have to control his curiosity. Right now was some mommy-daughter bonding time--he could always ask you to sing him to sleep later.

[iwanthermidnightz]

this song was so hauntingly beautiful! the harmonies and the individual vocals of phoebe, julien and lucy… just wow. please go listen 🖤

[lifemod17]

okay but Blood Upon the Snow just freaking slaps. plain and simple

I would love to hear your thoughts about it <3

BLOOD UPON THE SNOW FREAKING

SLAPS.

and more people should absolutely acknowledge it for the beautiful song that it is!!!

I'm not even talking solely about Hozier. Bear McCreary is such a talented and amazing musician who deserves more recognition! I don't know how else to put it but that man is undeniably good. So the two of them coming together for this track is incredible!

The melody alone really captures what God Of War feels like (at least in my opinion). The instrument choices is just *chefs kiss*

The way Hozier starts off the song by singing ever so softly, hauntingly beautiful really. And ending it with a big finish by BELTING?? Insane. Andrew's lung capacity will never cease to amaze me!!!

My favorite lines being:

"It's not my arms that will fail me,

but this world takes more strength than it gave me.

The trees deny themselves nothing that make them grow. No rain fall, no sunshine,

no blood upon the snow."

The pen game is WICKED.

If you haven't yet, go listen to this epic song.

[jolapeno]

I am sending you this story....By Pearlessance I didn't think I would like it but it sucked me in and wouldn't let go. It is angst, smut...No fluff but it's so good. I've commented on their page but extra shout outs are needed. https://www.tumblr.com/pearlessance Also a shout out to Freya. Her mood boards are amazing and I loved her newest story...Block Party...It was so good. Fluff, angst and was so just romantic. @almostfoxglove

Music I am listening to that is just amazing...One song comes to mind...Hurricane by Tommee Profitt with Fleurie...It is so hauntingly beautiful. Books I am reading...A Court of Thorn and Roses...Apparently I am late to the party... And I talk...a lot...Thanks for letting me ramble.

lots of love in this one and that makes me a happy happy jo! thank you so much @galway-girlatwork !

@pearlessance & @almostfoxglove please see your gorgeous love!!

I listened to this song, also agree! so beautiful?! might be an immediate add!

books: I haven’t read this series. I tried the first book but couldn’t get into it. but are you enjoying it?!!

(p.s. here, there’s never a thing as talking to much, okay? ramble away my lovely friend!)