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lust4life01 · 5 months

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Too Sweet - David Loki.

Inspired by the song ‘Too Sweet’ by Hozier because I’m obsessed with it!!

Disclaimer: I haven’t seen anyone do this yet but if it has been done please let me know!! ☺️

Pairing; David Loki x f/reader

Warnings!!: brief smut, oral f/recieving, angst-ish, colleagues, alcohol consumption, grumpy x sunshine, mention of crime/murder, knife mentioned, violence, etc.

Summary: David is profoundly attracted to his colleague but tries to stay away due to her sweet nature, which very much juxtaposes his. sulky nature. (key word- tries)

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

7:20 am , the clock read as you walked in. Coffees situated in hand as your pretty summer dress swayed softly.

“Hey Bill! Morning Sandra!” You greeted everyone in the morning with coffee and a smile, it’s was that time between spring and summer where everything was bright and made life feel worth living.

You fixed your eyes on Detective Loki, who had his nose buried amongst some case files and a frustrated grumpy look across his sharp features.

Taking out a black coffee from the holder you trailed over to him. You two weren’t exactly friends but you had a desperate need to be liked by him. Maybe it was because he was always so stern and earning yourself a smile would make you feel like a winner, or maybe it had something to do with the fact you were ridiculously attracted to him? Well, both things can be true simultaneously.

“Detective Loki, coffee?” You smiled down at him whilst extending the cup towards him in hopes he would accept your kind gesture.

Peeling his eyes away from his paper he met your gaze after you said his name.

“Oh, yes. Thank you.” He said in his monotone voice.

He grabbed the cup from your hands, lightly brushing over your fingers but snapped his head back to his paper in a matter of seconds.

There was nothing profoundly interesting on the paper but he didn’t want to engage with you. Just the thought of your company was overwhelming, never mind when you were handing him coffee and saying his name in such a sweet tone of voice. The smell of your perfume, your pretty summer dress and the sweetness that surrounds you would sweep him up in the blink of an eye. You were gorgeous, smart, likeable. You didn’t need to be getting involved with an older bitter man like him.

He did however wonder how you remained the way you are in a job like this. I mean how at seven in the moring are you considerate and nice? He imagined that you slept the way a princess would, other wise it would be a true mystery not even he could solve.

Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

The huge trees howled and peered down at you. Trapping you in as the screeches of crows was the only noise to be heard amongst the dismal scene.

You and Loki had been sent to a barren camp site out in the woods where two suspects had been reported as camping out. Realistically, you shouldn’t have been there, one because you quite literally weren’t suppose to be but had to be because Loki’s partner was off sick. And secondly, because most of your colleagues doubted your ability and thought infantilising you came from a place of concern rather than blatant misogyny.

Loki, however, didn’t want you there because the thought of just being alone with just you made him want to place his head in his palms. You had only exchanged a couple words as far as a sentence can go and you clearly liked to talk. He wasn’t so keen. He anticipated the awkwardness from the minute his supervisor had told you to go with him.

The crunching of leaves could be heard as the two of you stalked through the woods.

Loki spoke to you lowly as he kept his eyes on the tree line rather than you “These men are dangerous. You let me get them okay.”

You scoffed lightly which prompted him to turn his head to you, with his same expression he always had.

“Believe it or not, I am a fucking detective too. I have a gun strapped to my waist. I’m not an idiot”

Your sweet personality had been lost recently, which was most likely from the frustration of people assuming because you were nice you had to be weak too, and embarrassingly, because you still felt as though Loki was never going to crack. There was something about his cold nature that drew you in. You just wanted him to see you, which felt impossible.

You’re hostile attitude shocked Loki, it was quite attractive the way you stood your ground when he was so accustom to your soft spoken self. He raised his hands slightly as he apologised “Okay, sorry. You're right.”

You both continued to walk in silenced until you could see a campsite through the trees. There was a tent, a blazing bonfire, and some belongings scattered about. Loki protectively stood in front of you as you both spotted a man sat on a log, one which looked exactly like one of the two suspects.

Loki ran towards the man with his gun drawn and shouted “STAY FUCKING STILL!”

You followed behind quickly as Loki wrestled the man to the ground and cuffed him. Even if you were wrapped up in hostility you couldn't help but admit to yourslef that it was one of the hottest scenes you'd ever witnessed.

“Think you can run from me mother fucker.” Loki grunted as the man tried to wriggle his way out of the cuffs.

As Loki was taking care of the sicko criminal on the floor you heard movement from the tent. A man quickly appeared holding a knife but he tried to run from you rather than at you. You chased after him and trapped his foot, sending him flying to the floor, the knife flying from his hand and landing in a brush. Loki had noticed this and leapt up to come and help but you already cuffed the shouting man.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH! I’LL KILL YOU LIKE I KILLED THOSE OTHER WHORES!”

Back up had turned up shortly after to come and collect the two men. You stood by the bonfire and watched as the men were shoved into vans. A feeling of adrenaline consuming you as well as a deep sadness for the women who weren't saved from the foul men.

Loki slowly approached you scanning over your drained features as he stepped closer to you.

“Good job today (y,n).” It was blunt and pretty vague but honestly gaining validation from your older attractive colleague was rewarding and his presents dragged you from your depressing thoughts.

You smiled at him, your face illuminated by the orange flames as the sun started to set. He stared back at you whilst trying to decide if he should say what he wanted to. Fuck it.

“You look like you could use a drink. I’m gonna grab one, you wanna come?” He felt nervous, like he was twelve years old asking out the pretty popular girl to be his date to some cheesy dance. It was purley out of compassion and a need for a drinking buddy he told himself, not because he wanted to spend more of the day with you or anything.

The tiredness in your eyes remained but your lips did form into a smirk “I’d like that a lot, Loki.”

The smell of smoke from the bonfire filled the air before you, as he couldn’t help but stare at the reflection of the flames in your eyes, getting lost in your haze.

He snapped out of his admiration and suggested you guys take his car.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat

The sultry music that played in the background of the barren bar was drowned out by the sound of Loki's glass hitting the bar again, only the smell of whiskey left in the glass. After that day, Loki decided he needed a drink and had reluctantly invited you to come along which was his weird way of forming somewhat of a relationship with you. You absolutely did come along because the thought of the two men you and Loki had caught made you want to drink until a single thought couldn't grace your thoughts. And you felt comfortable with him. It wasn’t some sleazy type of invitation for drinks but more a mutual feeling of despair that could be lifting with the taste of alcohol.

Loki had order whiskey, neat of course, which made so much sense. You however had far one too many vodka and cherry cola’s.

At first Loki admired your ability to somewhat keep up with him, until he realised maybe that wasn’t the case, which he realised when you started to drunkenly cry about how you felt like your boss hated you and everone thought you were weak. Loki knew this was drunk nonsense because nobody could hate you, you‘re too sweet.

“Hey hey come on now, he doesn’t hate you. How could anybody hate you? And nobody thinks you're weak, especially not me.” He tried to calm your drunk ass down and started to think maybe asking you for a drink was not a good idea. That compassion he felt for you did scare him a little though.

He had tried to distance himself from you, but it seemed he couldn’t. Every assignment, there you were. It was impossible to remain distance or blunt around you. Even if he was admittedly a bit of a dick to everyone else he realised after being in your presence continuously that you were now almost friends? In a way?

Loki wasn’t drunk, sure he had drunk but he wasn’t drunk. He walked you to his car and helped you into the front seat. I mean what’s a detective without a little criminal activity, and he was still perfectly fine to drive. You on the other hand was not fine and there was no way Loki was letting you get into a cab on your own , not in this state.

Once driving you had gone quiet from your intoxicated rambling that had entertained Loki as he practically carried you to the car.

“Hey (y,n) what’s your address so I can take you home.”

There was no answer.

Loki peered over and you were sound asleep. Of course you were. He grabbed his phone from his pocket so he could call a colleague to find out where you lived but of course it had died.

He looked over at you and felt an odd feeling in his chest. He let out a huff and made a U turn.

My coffee black and my bed at three

He had helped you into his apartment and made a bed up on the couch for himself. But before that he had fixed you both some coffee in order to help you sober up a little. His was black o. He gave you some toast and your sweetened coffee as you thanked him mercilessly. He was glad you were at least conscious now.

“That’s already. Do you want me to take you home, or you can stay here? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

It was pretty late and he had felt an odd shift towards you from the hours before. Your vunreblity you inviited him to see had eradicated the strange tension you two seemed to possess previously. You felt comfortable with him, so he felt comfortable around you.

Despite your intoxicated state, you could recognise the serenity in his voice, probably being the nicest he’s ever spoken to anyone ever.

You shook your head slightly as you eyes fluttered “David you don’t have to do that, I’ll sleep on the couch. ”

The thought of another car ride did make you want to vomit, and you trusted Loki so there was no harm in staying.

The use of his first name threw him off a bit but he was insistent that you took the bed whilst also briefly apologising for his lack female comfortable clothing. He set out some briefs and a t shirt, that was nowhere close to fitting you, onto the bed.

You slipped them on a thanked him one more time before settling in to his bed. The alcohol in your system left a feeling of guilt upon your conscionous as the smell of him hit you from his pillows. However, after a couple minutes with your head touching his pillows you were fast asleep.

You're too sweet for me

The next morning had arrived and Loki started to get up for work, when he remembered you were sleeping soundly in his bed. He quietly got himself together and left you a note on the bedside table which read;

Gone to work, I’ll let them know you're sick. Help yourself to anything and the keys are on the kitchen counter.

Accompanied with the note was a glass of water and a some aspirin to help with the hangover. He stared down at your face, you looked so pretty. God you were too perfect, far too kind and compassionate to be with the likes of him. He covered the duvet over you before he left and made sure to take a final glance at you before leaving.

After waking up from a pleasant sleep to a not so pleasant headache, you were quickly snapped out of your self pity after realising you were in your colleagues bed. Your colleague who you had been trying to impress forever.

You shortly remembered why that was and the hangxiety demons grabbed ahold of you. You shoved your face into his pillows as you cursed yourself for getting in such a state. God, he probably thought you were ridiculous, a stupid child who couldn’t handle their alcohol. Great.

Then the panic of work hit you, fuck were you late? Where was Loki? What was the fucking time? Your eyes scanned for an indication when they laid upon his note. You let out a sigh of relief after reading that Loki was going to cover your ass. You took the pills, made his bed, changed back into your clothes and called yourself a cab home.

You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate

Once you had gotten home you left Loki a message to thank him for his kindness, not only through letting you stay at his house but also for covering your ass at home. The thought of inconveniencing others made you want to die.

Loki's kindness left you with this debilitating feeling in your chest, you two had becomes somewhat friends but the overwhelming attraction you felt to him only became magnified when he provided you with his security last night.

You felt absolutely disgusting with the hangxiety seeping through your soul, your clothes from yesterday, and the fact you hadn’t showered since yesterday morning.

The sound of the shower blasting accompanied with your favourite playlist playing made you feel calmer and cleaner already. You jumped into the shower and decided you had to see Loki. You had to thank him in person. Something about knowing you slept in his bed last night and you haven’t seen him since just didn’t feel right.

If you were seeing Loki, it had to be an everything shower. You had to look and feel perfect. As you massaged your sweet smelling shampoo into your scalp your mind imagined walking up to his door and kissing him. God, the thought made your heart ache and yearn for it to be reality, but you highly doubted he felt the same. I mean it was Loki.

Once every inch of your body smelt, felt and looked divine you admired yourself in the mirror. Your makeup looked stunning but not overbearing, your hair looked like you had just come out of a Victorian secret catalog and you smelt gorgeous.

You quickly checked your phone and saw Loki had replied, meaning he was probably home from work by now. You opened up the message which read;

‘Thats okay (y,n), no need to thank me. Did you get home alright?’

God why did he care so much? Why did it make you want him more, and why did he have to be a colleague? Without even replying to the text you rushed to your car and made your way over to his. Admittedly, you did have one of your friends from the IT department tell you where he lived a little while back. It wasn’t creep or stalking, you’re a detective okay? That makes it fine, I suppose.

Once you arrived and was stood outside his door your heart started to pound. You took a deep breath and gently knocked on his door.

The minutes in which it took him to open the door immediately made you want to run away. But you didn’t. You stayed and stared at the door.

Finally when it opened you saw Loki standing in the doorway, uniform still on and was that a smile plastered on his face?

“Oh hello (y,n).” He said sounding pleasantly shocked to see you. Then he subtly looked you up and down. Fuck you looked so pretty.

You stared for a minute, wide eyed. “Hey, so um-, I just like, wanted to say thanks. Again.” You could feel your cheeks blush from being so self aware.

You could feel his low brow stare as you talked, making you feel even more nervous. You had talked to criminals that had committed heinous crimes but somehow this was far more nerve racking.

He stepped a little closer to you, looking down. “You didn't need to say it again, I told you it’s my pleasure.”

Without saying anything you stood staring into his eyes.

“Well yeah, I just came by to express how thankful I really am.”

He smirked and then brushed a piece of hair behind your ear with his large hand, a small piece of his own hair falling as he leaned forward. God you were so sweet, but he could tell you weren’t here because of that.

Cupping your jaw he gently connected his lips to yours. You gasped quietly making Loki retreat instantly.

“Fuck. I’m sorry I-“

Before he had time to continue you smashed your lips together again, humming into the kiss. It became heated and as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, feeling as though he had reached heavens gate.

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

You tried to catch your breath as Loki's lips attacked yours mercilessly as you both made your way to his bedroom whilst crashing into every surface on the way.

The base of your back hit the wall as his hands started to undress you in between the hard kisses. “You’re so fucking pretty. Wanted you for so long.”

You could only moan in response as the feeling of his hands hugged your skin and his teeth grazed your neck.

Once he had gotten you in just your lingerie set, which he noticed immediately, he grabbed the backs of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Pulling his hair you whined as he carried you to the bedroom. You were so desperate for him, it was insane.

Placing you down on to the end of the bed, he stood before you. You immediately crawled to your knees, and reached for the hem of his long fitted black shirt. He smiled and reached his big hand around your back and un clasped your bra as his other hand stroked your hair. You bit your lip in anticipation as the shirt slipped over his head, leaving him shirtless with nothing but his work pants on in front you you. You admired his god like torso, covered in tattoos.

You whispered a quiet “fuck” and kissed down his snail trail.

Loki groaned as you reached closer down his torso and gripped your jaw, bending down and kissing you hard once again.

“Lie back for me princess.”

Immediately you did as you were told and Loki quickly followed on top of you. One hand firmly gripped your waist hard enough to bruise, whilst the other held your right wrist again the bed. He kissed your sweet collar bones and made his way down to your nipples. He licked and kissed them as your chest heaved.

“Loki, please. I need you to bad.”

An amused grin spread across his face as blood rushed to his already hard cock. He dipped two large fingers into your underwear and they were immediate soaked by your desperation.

“Not as innocent as you seem, are you baby? Mhm?” He hummed.

You shook your head as you tried to not cry out from your needy incoherent state.

He brought his fingers to your lips and you wrapped your swollen lips around them and moaned.

Seconds later he was tearing off your panties and connecting his wet tongue to your pulsating cunt as he praised you through your moans.

“Taste just as sweet as you seem though. Taste and look so fucking good for me baby.”

He sucked on your clit as if it were a divine exotic fruit, almost as sweet as a grape turned into a majestic wine falling from an enchanted waterfall.

You thread your fingers through his hair and whimpered hysterically “Loki! Fuck!”

You're too sweet for me

The summer breeze trailed in through the open window as your head rested upon Lokis bare chest. You both laid there as you played with his big tattooed fingers and he took in the smell of your shampoo that he so secretly loved.

You started to talk his ear off mercilessly and he simply just listened. Taking in all of your words as if they were the most important words to ever be spoken. He nodded and hummed as he admired you. Your skin glowing. He had to admit to himself your sweet charming personality had caught him in a choke hold. There was an element of purity and sunshine that you brought to his sulky self, he was well and truly fucked. You're too sweet.

(Ugh im so obsessed with this song and it is soooo David Loki.)

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #david loki fanfiction #david loki x reader #david loki smut #too sweet #hozier #prisonersmovie

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noowayybroo · 8 months

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Snowed In - Yeti!M!Leon x GN!Reader (NSFW)

Merry LATE Chrimmy guys!!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS!!! (yeah... that went well) guys the fic is very long so I MARKED THE SMUT IN BLUE JUST SCROLL FOR IT

I was brainrotting with my best friend EVER and I came up with a terrible terrible thing (You're welcome) so hear me out, you're camping out in the snow, looking for, idk, self torture, and suddenly you catch the eye of a certain Yeti...

Long story short, he rescues you... eventually, and warms you up inside! I wanted to make this GN because although I am an F who LOVES F fics, I thought it'd be nice for y'all not Fs out there! I'll try keep it short so there's more chance of me finishing it! EDIT: IT's VERY LONG, JUST LIKE HIM!!!

THIS IS INSPIRED BY THE BRAINROTTINGLY NSFW GAME CLOUD MEADOW WHICH I HAVENT PLAYED BUT I WANT TO PLAY!! iN THE GAME THERE'S A CUTE YETI GUY AND HE LOOKS LIKE LEON A BIT, NO?!???!??!!?

guys I tried to edit this like 2000 times and every fucking time tumblr deleted my edit I am going insane but I pulled through for YOU! (eventually)

Honestly guys i'm not happy with this one it by far isn't my best work so read at your own peril. What I really want is for people to love the idea, not the fic, you know?? xx Pls do something with it if you like it! <3

Characters: GN!Reader, Yeti! Monster!Leon Kennedy

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of penetration, kissing, licking, cuddling etc, cumming iinside toooo, Reader is GN for inclusivity, and I've described the sex as P-in-Hole lol. He fucks you and you imagine where ig. !! Leon is kinda monstrous and not too human, and also in the start he kinda wrecks ur camp and scares the shit outta u so if it'll trigger pls dont read. Leon isn't monstrous he;s just big, furry and a bit primal. Kinda switchy / sub leon so at the start he lets you push him around n then he rails u v hard sooo uhhgjjj and also u have no condom dont be so naughty!!! NOT PROOF READ THERE WILL BE ISSUES OK BUT i CANNAE BE ASKED SORRY

Stay safe n happy this Winter!

"Just picture it! The fresh air! All that snow!" A naive relative tells you, patting you firmly on the shoulder. You stare down blankly at the brochure in your hands, all about a family getaway to a ski resort in some snowy, far off mountains. You didn't doubt them when they told you it'd be a good family exercise, but all you wanted to bond with was your warm bed and all the other things you had to do.

Only a week later, there you were. The sigh you let out dispersed into a cloud of white vapour before your eyes, leaving you to gaze upon your surroundings. Before you sat the exact sight from the brochure you held only a week ago, and it was beautiful. Crisp snow crunched beneath each trudging step, snow-tipped pines line each iced hill and valley as far as your eye could see. No longer mere inky blotches on thick paper - the wind howled past, whistling through each tree, and sending shivers up your over-clothed spine.

You learn the hard way that you won't even have a warm cabin and hearth to laze by during your chilly nights as you follow your family to pick up the camping gear they would be renting. You supposed it'd save money, but at what cost? Pneumonia?

And as you're all setting up camp, you can't help recall being at home wrapped up in your warm covers and revelling in the endless wonders of your Tumblr "for you" page. You also can't help feeling as though you're being... watched, and not by fellow campers in their tents.

"There's nothing out here but adorable rodents and birds!" your guide would exclaim for the fourth time now, in a screech which rivalled that of any of the feathered friends he'd referred to. He means to reassure you, and whilst you'd love to trust what he says with his years of experience in mind, you can't help but doubt him.

Eventually, night falls, and after a good few hours around a make-shift campfire sipping hot drinks of your choice, you and your family finally resign to bed. It's freezing, and despite your warmest sleeping-bag and thickest pyjamas, your teeth chatter and your body shakes. But you're convinced to fall asleep. The sooner you do, the sooner the cold fades away. So, eventually, amidst the wind battering your tent, and night-time ambience, you drift off.

You wake with a start, surprisingly warm, but quickly realise you're alone. Oh no. That's terrifying. After trying (and failing) for a good while to get signal (ever the priority (maybe this is too self-insert)), you crawl out of your tent. The sun hangs high in the sky. You were out for a while. Your sigh of relief must be audible once you find a scrawled note pinned to the makeshift seating surrounding your lit campfire.

"Good morning Sleepyhead!" It reads, and you can tell by the writing exactly who wrote it.

"We didn't want to wake you up so we've gone to get some food! Be back soon! xxx"

Well, at least you knew they couldn't be far away. You're not at all ready for the cold winds that begin to gnaw at your skin again so, groggily, you crawl back into your tent. You stretch, get back into your cocoon, and try once more to get signal.

He'd been watching you for a while now. He watched all the humans at the ski resort as they went about their festive holidays, completely unaware of his presence and he wouldn't have it any other way. Once like you, Leon was just like any other man, or government agent. That was until he encountered a strange virus on one of his missions. Years ago now, the virus caused him to significantly grow in size. He became taller and slightly buffer, and began to grow white fur on most of his body. His hair also became white.

Amused, Leon referred to it as the Y-virus (Y for Yeti) to anyone who'd listen, but, afraid of any negative side effects and any testing, hid away in some distant mountains. If you'd see his face, anyone who knew him might recognise him, and he dared not admit it to anyone, but he enjoyed being free, living off of wild animals and things. That, and, any snacks he could pilfer from unattended camps. He enjoyed his tranquil life, but grew to hate the years of loneliness he'd subjected himself to. As time went on, however, Leon slowly forgot what it was like to interact with other humans. And then, he forgot how to speak well too.

He watched as humans had their holidays, and spent time with friends and family. He was content in the knowledge that you were all happy, and, once the people cleared off, he'd investigate the area to see how far humans were developing, and whether he was still in the papers.

He'd been watching your camp too, and he was certain you'd all left. This was his chance to investigate.

You've been laying on your makeshift bed for a few minutes now when suddenly, you make out the soft sound of trudging through snow towards your tent. The footsteps are slow, but you chalk that up to any exhaustion a human would experience after facing the monster of a hill your tent was precariously placed upon. At first, you think it could be family, until you realise there's only one set of steps. It was probably someone on their way to wherever they were going. Nothing concerning you.

The sound approaches though, each footfall sounding loud, heavy and far apart. You'd think they were just walking slowly, if not for the speed at which the volume of each step increases. Before you know it, a large shadow almost eclipses your tent. A male figure. A tall one at that, and he seems to be about to walk straight through your camp.

Bit unnecessary...

Except he doesn't. The man just stops outside your tent. He looks around a bit. Maybe he needs some help, you think. Groaning quietly, you crawl out of bed, and peep through the unzipped door of your tent-

Tall. Really, really tall. At least 6ft. And you're staring right at his ass. And he doesn't... have clothes on.

Before you stands, quite proudly, something you can only describe as a yeti. He's covered from head to toe in thick, soft white fur. He's broad, muscular, and his waist forms a sharp V as it reaches his hips. Even through his glossy, well kept coat, the definition of each muscle and delicious shoulder blade catches your eye. You're terrified, hoping it's just some sort of elaborate cosplay to scare people. There's definitely space for someone to be hiding inside that... realistic suit. Ducking into your tent, you continue to observe with only one eye peeking from the tent, hoping you won't be noticed.

The man begins to look around, two catlike ears upon his head are perked as he scans his surroundings and eventually, he looks in your direction. He's far too tall to even register you while his eyes are at their level, but oh boy do you register him. You drink in his form, and, as he turns, his face. He's chiselled, certainly a sight for the sorest of eyes. His face is simply the cutest, softest almost feline looking one, and his jaw juts out as he analyses his surroundings thoughtfully.

You know how Leon looks, so I don't need to go into detail about the way his piercing blue eyes reflect the sun, shining through his silver fringe. I don't need to describe to you how his fluffy bangs sway dramatically as he looks around, or how he playfully blows a soft puff of breath upwards to clear some stray hair from his eyes.

Fortunately for you, I also don't need to tell you that he doesn't see you. He seems almost in a trance, stepping around carefully, analysing the tents and each miscellaneous object littered around. It seems as though he's checking up on things- the quality of them, the materials they're made of. He seems curious.

And then you see it, a small burst of flame at his right ankle. He's stepped too close to the fire pit. The yeti lets out a startled grunt, jumping into the air like a petrified cat. His hair bristles and stands on end as he tries to stand one legged in the snow, trying to bury his leg to put it out.

Then he loses his balance, the gargantuan man stumbling forward before suffering an untimely meeting with the guy line of a nearby tent. He yelps, trips, and with a loud thud and a few pings, lands face first in the snow right outside your tent. His collision with the strings holding up your tent sends them pinging out of the soft snow, and suddenly, your tent collapses around you, trapping you in.

Even in weak flails, he'd managed to tear his claws through another tent. You were terrified. What if he saw you?

In his clumsy efforts, the man had thrown quite a large amount of snow into your tent, and you gradually become colder, damper and more panicked as the freezing wet fabric of the tent pins you down. Scared to move, you only shiver as you completely hide inside now, not wanting the abomination outside to find you. You'd seen enough now to be certain that wasn't a costume. He was too... real.

You hear frantic fumbling and crunches of snow as the man outside extinguishes the last of his afflictions. His breaths are heavy, and gradually slow to a calming rate. And, after a while of sitting there still, perhaps shocked, he works up the courage to gaze around at the tents he's toppled. When his eyes at last land on your entirely ruined one, his heart sinks straight to his gut. His shoulder slump and he just stares in your direction, guilty being an understatement. Maybe if he just stares at the tent for a little longer, everything will undo itself, he seems to think, ogling your direction as his mouth hangs open.

Instead, it draws his attention to your shivering form beneath the soaked fabric. He swallows thickly, eyes widening and pupils narrowing.

"Fuck..." he groans meekly, muscles tensing in anticipation before stumbling to his feet. He kicks snow as he makes a series of small, unsure steps towards the tent. Then, in a flurry of inevitable motion, he crouches and throws what's left of your tent off of you. And just like that, with a yelp, your prison of a disguise is torn from you, exposing your skin to the cool, dry air. You shiver, duck away and curl further into a ball. Some small part of you prays for this to be just a nightmare, but the rest of you knows it's very real.

As soon as you hit hit his eyes, Leon falters. He leans back in surprise and his brows furrow in pity and regret. He could tear you apart so easily, and he'd just proved it. Sniffing the air a little, eventually he moves in, reaching out to you with large, clawed hands. He's almost pouting at you, eyes narrowed in concentration as he moves in. All you can do is hold your breath. You ball yourself up tighter. You have no idea how you'll survive this - you're past the point of playing dead. All you can do is stare up at him, silently pleading for mercy.

His hands are warm where they touch you. They're large too - large enough to almost encompass each of your upper arms in their soft grip. He just stays there for a while, gently holding your arms as they shiver. His gaze is locked on them as he focuses, gently adjusting the force at which he holds you, rhythmically squeezing you a little, just to get a feel. His tongue darts out in his focus, and after a while, his eyes are back on yours.

You wondered when your family would be back. You wondered if they could even save you. And then it hit you. You wondered if they'd never be back.

Gently, Leon pries your arms away from your face where you'd shielded yourself so desperately. When I say gentle, well, to him it was. He barely had to exert any force to bend you to his will. You were like putty to him. He could easily overpower you, and he didn't dwell on whether it was down to sheer strength or your fear.

Emotionless eyes scan you up and down a few times, ultimately resting on your face once more as a slow hand wipes your clinging hair from your forehead. Then, he reaches out again. Large clawed hands find purchase under each of your arms. They slide in easily as you comply, not wishing to enrage him. He hoists you up with ease, save a small grunt. Next thing you know, he's standing and you're held at arm's distance from him like a cat. He peers up at you, smiling for the first time. He chuffs, hot breath landing on your face; he seems proud of his catch.

Terrified and uncomfortable, you continue to shake in his grip. All you can do is stare at him pleadingly, and even if you had the willpower, you doubted you could escape him. Your clothes are soaked through now, and if you had to thank him for anything, it would be for warming your arms and not killing you... yet. His blues stalk you through his silvery fringe, and after sniffing your air a few times, he sighs and pulls you in.

You're terrified. You can't look. You squeeze your eyes shut. What if he eats you?? You couldn't even begin to picture it, but after a few seconds of being pressed against his warm body, a gentle caress of your thigh coerces you to open your legs a little to allow him space between them. He grunts, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you more supportively now, like a child.

Buried in his chest, you can't see the small awkward smile he gives you, or the look of relief he sends your way as you seem to warm up to him (literally.) Through small rubs and caresses up your back and where he holds you by your thighs, he slowly rubs his warmth into you. Mind so frazzled by fear, all you can really do is let him hold you. You shiver occasionally, afraid of what he may do to you, but otherwise remain still. You don't want to get on his bad side.

After a while of peace, he gently places a finger below your chin, and guides your face up to meet his. He leans in, nuzzles your cheek a little with his nose, and takes a deep breath in. He lingers on you for a while - eyes closing in either bliss or contemplation, before walking once more. He scowls at the firepit as he passes it, beginning to carry you off in the direction he came in.

Where was he taking you? You go a little rigid, now realising you're being abducted. You panic, and it manifests in small squirms, trying to ball yourself up again and push away, levering yourself away from the yeti. You strain against him, and your small noises of fear and exertion perk his ears. He glances down at you tenderly, ceasing his stride to raise a gentle finger to your teary eyes. He swallows thickly and puffs out another deep breath, thinking for a while. He's not at all sure what to do, and doesn't want to risk failing to speak of his own accord, so instead just bounces you softly like a father cradling a child.

You feel warm and cared for, and become distracted wondering if he can actually understand you. However, your surrender was enough compliance for him to continue walking, and he carries on carting you off to goodness knows where. You wouldn't know this, but in truth, Leon was so confused. He hadn't come face to face with a human in years, nevermind one who was so brittle and terrified of him. Somehow, after all these years, he still imagined himself to be the hero, not the monster.

He hadn't intended to face you. He didn't mean to destroy your tent, or to plunge you into the freezing cold... What he'd meant to do was leave you there, before any of that could happen. He'd felt guilty. He wouldn't let his actions affect you and your sweet holiday so negatively. It was decided for him, he was sure he was helping you. He was going to fix things, and warm you up.

The cold and fear had left you weak. You sit in his arms, limp, knowing you couldn't get away even if you'd tried. The gentle rock of his body against yours as he powers through the snow soothes you. His warmth and strong scent clouds your judgement. Before very long, you find yourself snuggling into him somewhat as you watch your camp grow further and further away through tired eyes. He squeezes you gently as he feels you sink into him. One hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. It was ironic, as your captor, how much reassurance Leon was trying to give you.

"C-can you understand me?" You whisper eventually, raising your head to gaze up at the large man's jaw. His ears twitch a little and then he hums. He peers down at you, thoughtfully.

"Hm.. yeah." His voice is gravelly, rough and deep. It's quiet though, like he doesn't use it much.

"You can?!" Your eyes widen and you pull away a little. Leon was becoming quite nervous now. He feared this moment. He didn't want to talk to you at all. He knew he'd fuck up. In response to your question, Leon smiles sheepishly, revealing his sharp teeth. You get straight to the point. "Where are you taking me?"

He frowns and peers down at you. "My... home?"

"Why??" you feel hopeless again. He seemed human enough to appeal to, but then again, you had no idea what he wanted with you.

"...It's warm here" he eventually mumbles as you notice your surroundings suddenly getting a little darker as he carries you into a cave. You'd been so entranced staring up at him, that you hadn't taken in your surroundings for a while. As you do, you notice several random objects lying around. Some looked natural and from the forest like pinecones, sticks and berries. Others seemed very human. Smartphones, newspapers... clothes.

Oh no. You were going to die here.

At least none of the belongings seemed to belong to you or your family... yet. That was still terrifying though. Where was all this stuff from? Some of it was even torn... That's it, you're getting out of here. With a newfound vigour, you begin to claw at his shoulder and back, climbing out of his arms. For a second, it works, until he catches on and wraps his burly hands around your waist, yanking you back down to where he has a good hold on you. He ducks down to look you in the eyes, almost pleading. "Not gonna hurt you." His voice is a soft hum now, claws prodding you as he holds you still.

Somehow, he comes across as quite trustworthy. You couldn't be scared of him just because he's big, not when he's so clumsy and cute. And certainly not when he holds you and watches you as if you were the most precious, sweet individual he'd encountered. It was hard to ignore him, too, with his smooth voice and handsome face, and the careful way he leans over you as he carries you deeper into his cave to shelter you from droplets of condensation.

"Can you please let me go?" you plead.

"I'll take you" he hums, missing the way your eyes widen in shock and confusion. He jostles you up a little to make sure you stay wrapped around his waist and no lower, before eventually laying you down on some soft-makeshift bedding. You're so far into the cave that most of the light from outside is gone. Nobody would find you now, even if they saw the small gas lamp Leon lit beside you. He's about to lay down right beside you when he realises, perhaps, it's not the right thing to do.

Sheepishly, he motions to a spot on his own bed beside you. "Can I?" You have no idea what to say, so, you nod. You were in his home, if you could even call it that, you weren't gonna anger him. You felt as though you needed to make friends with him if you planned on getting out of this alive. And so, as the large man slowly got onto his knees before laying down on his side beside you, it struck you just how "Beauty and the beast" this situation really was. He groaned a little and his joints creaked somewhat as he slowly got down, propping his head up with one hand as he watches you.

Huge was an understatement, and whilst he did have monstrous features and strength, he seemed like the type to at least give you a kind death should he want to eat you-

No, stop. Why are you thinking like that?

You shiver, replacing his amused hum with another thick swallow. His wide eyes scan you.

"Still cold." his lips tug disapprovingly as he watches you lay there, and when you nod, he wraps a blanket around you that he got from goodness knows where. His voice echoed in the small cave, even if he seemed to be whispering now. Leon didn't like causing you fear, but he also didn't like ruining your shelter and warmth, and so, he sought to provide those for you.

You lay there, facing him. Slow and heavy breaths continue to rush over your face, fanning you as he invades your personal space. Yet for some reason, you can't bring yourself to move away. Turning your head momentarily, you eye your camp in the distance. Maybe if you could just get up and run now, you could escape him. Maybe he'd be kind and let you go. You shake again, the cave only rescuing you from the wind, not the biting cold his body provided you shelter from only moments earlier.

Suddenly, his burly arms are back on you. They wrap around you and pull you close, leaving you no space but to open your legs a little for him to get in between. He blankets you in a weighted embrace, head rested in your neck, pressed intimately close. "You're still shivering" He murmurs, silently noticing how your hairs stand on end at his proximity and gravelly tones. You feel his soft fur against your face, between your fingers. You can almost hear his heartbeat.

It's at this point, reluctantly, that you start to allow your attraction to him to manifest. The signs had all been there before as you admired his figure and strength, and basked in his voice. But now, you had no way of escape. You might as well just give in and enjoy the ride. So, you relax against him, wrapping your leg around him again, and letting him give you all of the closeness he can.

Leon knows this is wrong. He, at heart, is still very human, and knows that he should have abandoned you about 20 minutes ago after he destroyed your tent. Heck, he shouldn't have even gone to investigate. But he couldn't fight how good this felt. He couldn't fight the slow boner he was developing as you snuggled up to him so innocently, and he couldn't help wondering what a relationship with a human would be like, after all these years.

He also cant help the small shocked whimper he makes when you move down a little to snuggle up closer to him, and not-so-accidentally press quite firmly against his little issue. His hands seize your waist, threatening to move you, but when you tense in protest, he groans and goes limp, wrapping them around you again. He falls under the impression that if he keeps still, and if he keeps you still, you won't know what's really going on.

It was difficult to keep your morbid curiosity at bay, about fucking a literal Yeti. It was also difficult to not get too attached to the soothing warmth of his shimmery fur and hot skin. His slow breaths and small smile had you in a sleepy trance. You could fall asleep like this and rest. It would be the warmest night you'd get out here, and in all honesty, this was all starting to feel like a nice, cuddly dream.

Too much so.

"What do you want from me?" You lean back to look into his eyes which shoot open. He seems sleepy too. Your presence comforting him more than you could ever know. He stammers a little.

"W.. N- Nothing." he pleads, leaning in to press his forehead to yours. He thinks for a long while, articulating his words. "Just wanna... keep you warm, n safe." he sighs. You're digesting his response when his eyes shoot open in terror as he feels his cock kick against you once. He loosens his grip. This was terrible. He was being selfish. Maybe he should take you home now.

"Are you gonna let me go back?? I have a family out there, please." You whimper, giving him the eyes. He can't say no, he never wanted to hold you hostage. He just wanted to make sure you were ok and-

"Are you warm now?" he huffs, looking down at you to gauge your expression. In all honesty, you were warm, physically and emotionally. He was cute, too cute, and you could tell that he cared. For the first time since you'd met, you almost felt sure that he would actually let you go. And so, you wanted to test him. You pretend to think for a while.

"mmm, no." you smile up at him.

"No??" He seems shocked, running his hands over you to check, nuzzling his nose against your face. "You feel so... warm" he chokes out, eyeing you worriedly. He presses his finger tips to your forehead "you ill?" he grumbles "Where?" His huge hand works its way up and down your body, pressing everywhere he can whilst still being decent, checking for warmth. Then, when he identifies that your leg is a little cool, he wraps his around it.

You stare up at him. The answer is very simple. "Inside." you hum. He short circuits. Leon stares down at you, a faint blush just becoming visible beneath the fur of his cheeks. Inside? What did that mean? How was he meant to warm you up there???

Oh.

Leon stares at you in shock. He swallows thickly, and you decide he's just not sure what you mean, so, you decide to be a little more genuine about it. "Look... I'm... I'm not even sure if this is real. But I've never seen anything like you before and I'm just curious." There's a stunned silence as he eyes you up and down, thinking to himself.

"If you don't want to- it's fine." He wanted to. Oh boy did he want to. He just wasn't sure if it'd be right. He never imagined this day would come. He never thought he'd be able to fuck someone ever again. Leon hums down at you.

"Really shouldn't." those words pop your balloon instantly. You pout at him, but you're willing to take his answer.

"Why not?"

"No condom..." he sighs "Unless you-"

"No."

You both lay there in silence for a while before he crumbles, head falling to reside in the crook of your neck once more. You can tell he's thinking about it- taking you in, soaking into you. He's not felt more content in years. Cuddling up to you, he croons before placing a chaste kiss to your throat.

...Maybe he does want it...

You cover his cheek with small kisses, and sneakily reposition yourself against his throbbing cock. He whines, bucks into you once, and buries his fanged mouth against your skin where he feverishly kisses, trying to hide his sounds. Leon couldn't even admit to himself, let alone you, how pent up he'd been, and now? He wouldn't at all be able to let this opportunity slide.

One of his hands roams your body, sliding down to grip your waist possessively, tugging you hard against him. Then he retreats, realising his mistake. You grab his hand and return it to where it was, earning a playful chuckle and another shy buck of his hips. He runs that hand up your body twice more, watching entranced by the way it glides over your hips and chest, before using it to cup your face. He makes you look up at him.

"You sure?" He's hesitant, a little shaky. You're both very aware that this could end terribly. He could crush you.

"Uhuh.." Just like that, your fate is sealed. He leans in, and pulls you close for a hungry kiss. Expected from a mythical creature, Leon was a walking antithesis: His physical size and strength made him dominant and scary, and yet each of his actions was soft, caring and calculated... and needy. He whines as your lips meet his searing ones. He was so cute, so pliable. You're sure he'd do anything you wanted at this point, and so, testing your luck, you gently grind against him.

He instantly reciprocates, moaning a little as he clutches you tightly. Leon's ears sit flat to his head as he ruts against you, eyes screwed shut, mouth willingly opening enough for you to use some tongue. You've been making out for what, 2 minutes? And the man is already panting, groaning, rock solid against you as he humps desperately. When you slow down on the tongue, he licks eagerly into your mouth too, and moves to pepper kisses and licks all over your cheeks and neck while you catch your breath.

He's so cute, practically begging for you with his mouth but no words come to his aid. Instead, all the gentle giant can do is stare down at you with pleading giant puppy eyes. You want to go further with him. Guiding his hand down towards your sex, you intrust him to ready you. And oh boy does he. He swallows thickly, eyes locking onto you as if you're some mission or target, and he begins to work on you, slowly at first. He groans, cock kicking against you as he licks his lips. Eyes closed tight, kissing you all over, he doesn't even notice you undressing your bottom half until he hears you shimmy the fabric down your legs.

But that's when you feel it too. His hard cock poking out from his coat, slowly drooling copious pearls of precum, smearing his fur. He ruts it against you, the force of his huge hips shoving you so hard that you wrap yourself around him again just to stay put. Suddenly, Leon picks up his pace on you just where it feels best, rubbing with more force and energy than before. Unbeknownst to you, he had a plan. You let out a moan, mouth open wide enough for him to suddenly jam two huge digits in there. It didn't hurt, he wouldn't hurt you, but for a second, you feared for your life.

Even half way in, his fingers had you gagging, choking and drooling. You got them nice and wet for him, and as thanks, they'd be going inside you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue again, he needily whimpers and whines into your mouth.

"Fuck, you're w.. g-great... You're great" he groans, toying with your entrance, eyes shut once more as he grinds into you. He's slow, he understands his fingers are huge, especially by the reaction he didn't mean to elicit from filling your mouth with them, and so, once he breaches you, one finger at a time, makes sure to go slowly. He tries a bit of everything, thrusting, curling them, scissoring you open, all gently until he thinks you can take more.

He fills you so perfectly, so deliciously with just his fingers alone, and he knows what to do even whilst kissing you all over, but you don't dwell on where he got the experience. Leon nibbles a little at your lobe, trapping it gently between his sharp fangs, and moves towards teasing other parts of your throat and shoulder in this way until you begin grinding against his fingers, chasing something more. You snapped out of it a little when you realised just how large his member was. Easily over 7, maybe 8 inches.

And now, he was lining it up with you, holding his breath as he lets it slip, teasing your entrance a few times. It was thick too. The whole thing was just pretty, and due to his strange skin colour, where it would be red and angry it was tinged with a soft purple.

The last thing you see before he stuffs you is his brows furrowed in concentration as he lines himself up. As soon as he slides in, you groan and buck from the stretch of just the first few inches. He shakes, he twitches a little, and he curls up to you, holding you oh-so-dearly. His hips buck shallowly a few times but ultimately he's patient, waiting for the go ahead until he can continue to slowly fill you up. A few shallow thrusts and he works his way deeper, then he gives you a minute or so before repeating.

As bottomed out as he can be, Leon begins a torturously slow pace. He watches closely for you reaction. He's wondering what you like, what you want from him. Eventually, he's groaning with each slow thrust, apparently more edging for him than you. He quickens his pace, leaning over you, propping himself up as he pounds into you a little roughly now. He barely pulls out, each slow roll against of his hips against your sex making you want to cry out.

It's having an affect on him too. Before long, Leon is groaning and growling with each thrust. He's on his knees, body forcing your legs up against your chest as he pile-drives into you. His head hangs by your ear, occasionally nipping and sucking at you, but for the most part, growling like a feral animal. He slows down a little before driving a series of hard, strong thrusts into you with merciless force. Snarling and snapping his jaws, each smack of his hips shifts your body across the bed until he has to grab your ankle to pull you back to him.

He knows you're close, but he wants this moment to last and he's sure you do too. His breath tickles your ear between breathless chuckles, his voice deep and sultry, "H..heh... you ever... ridden a yeti?" As soon as you shake your head no, he purrs. "You want to?"

You nod. He picks you up with ease, temporarily leaving you empty and collapses onto his back. He's quick to fill you to the brim once more as soon as he's comfortable. He groans and throws his head back as you slide down him. And then, lets you work your magic. He groans under you, arms folded behind his head to cushion himself. His eyes follow you, watching you almost predatorily as you bounce on him, and occasionally, his hips snap up to meet yours.

"Fuck, you know, you're so... gnnn... good at this" he whines, trying to force his eyes to stay open so he can watch you.

He bites his lip, bucking up to meet you as his hands reach out for you. They're huge. One feels your body, supporting you, the other holds your ass, guiding you up and down. He smirks, clearly about to make another comment, when you reach down caress his chest, digging your nails into his pecs as best you can. His head falls back and he lets out an almost roar. "Fucckkk" he hums, staring up at you.

You're close again, but you're getting tired. Luckily for you, he understands. Leon sits up, wrapping his huge arms around you. He snuggles into your neck, littering it with growls and kisses as his hips go wild, pistoning into you with a force somehow he hadn't used yet. You were amazed, for such a large man, how hard and fast he could rabbit into your hole. His breaths deep, laboured and lustful as he lost himself in you.

It wasn't long before you were cumming on his cock, gripping his fat length like a vice. He groans, plugging his mouth with your shoulder, but not biting hard. You know exactly what's coming as he adjusts his legs, thrusting hard, almost throwing you up into the air if it weren't for his arms pinning you down to him. His growls and groans shake your core, rutting up in a similar fashion a few times as he pumps you full of his seed. And then he collapses, falling back against his bed. He pants and blushes furiously.

A small grin litters his face, he looks like he's about to pass out as he lays there, eyes narrow and chest heaving. It takes him a while to come down, cock still throbbing and kicking inside you. With how tight you are around him, there's no chance you'll spill a drop before he pulls out.

"Mmmm, fuck" he hums contentedly, hips jostling you upwards a few more times as he carefully reaches up to hold your face. His hand dwarfs your head easily, and he smiles. He's hesitant as he strokes your face. He knows what he did was probably wrong, but it felt so good. It delights him when, as he gently pulls you towards him, you come readily, leaning down to meet his lips.

This kiss isn't hungry or greedy. It's needy and loving. It's an apology, and a thank you, all at once. And when you pull away, his eyes flutter open to gaze lovingly at you.

He sighs, realising his time is up. "Alright, Take you back now, as promised." You're not having it. Playfully, you roll your hips against his and sigh down at him. His cock is half soft inside you now, and still feels great. He stares up at you, confused, ears perked. "What's wrong? Why not?"

"I'm cold outside again..." you pout. He chuckles, leaning up to grab you in a tight hug before laying down once more, this time with you as his captive.

"Well then, allow me to warm you up again."

And that he did.

Eventually you returned to your camp. With Leon carrying you, that is. If he'd given you anything, it was a severe case of jelly-leg.

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guys I just awnna have a little rant at u rn I'm sorry this fic is late and not christmas and Im sorry but I tried to write n edit this like 3 times and each time tumblr deleted my fucking edit im so fucking mad I had internet and I saved it as a draft the works but tumblr was a penis grrrr also, also, the times I edited it like and wrote some I had such good ideas for jokes and puns and things and good writing and now because iM fed up all my good ideas have left me so sorry that this fic is shitty bye thanks for existing ily.

the fic is so long im sorryy i hope you like him

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ofsappho · 1 year

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Magindara

When invaders threaten your home, life, and people, you, a sirena, strike a desperate bargain with Dream of the Endless to save them all.

Dream of the Endless x mermaid!reader, one shot (for now)

Tags: war, gore, torture, death/murder, mentions of SA, slavery, things that generally come with colonialism

Inspired by the episode “Jibaro” from the Netflix show Love Death + Robots. This one shot draws heavily from Filipino mythology, culture, and history. I ENCOURAGE and INVITE people who don’t come from a Filipino background to read this story and enjoy! There is so much beauty to be had in cultures of color, for everyone. Just as I have read many stories steeped in Greek, Celtic, Norse, medieval England, etc cultures, without coming from those backgrounds, I humbly ask you do the same and entertain this little fic. Thank you. I may write a follow up if there’s interest. Glossary at the end.

From the banks of your river, you can hear the horses.

Metal plate clangs and screeches against itself, swords jostle in their sheaths, and shields bump where they rest on armored backs so loud that you want to scratch your sensitive ears out, just to make the sounds stop.

Your ates and kuyas hide deep below in the caverns known only to your kind. When you close your black eyes, you feel them tugging at the edges of your mind like little lights in the deep darkness of the sea. They believe that will be enough to save them.

Only you have braved the surface, because only you know what these strange men upon their strange beasts want.

They want the gold in the dark, fertile earth. You don’t understand why - it’s just shiny metal. Only the dwarves under the hills covet it. But the men who ravage your lands and your kin like wildfires, grasping everything and destroying it in the same breath, care very much. They want the never-dying orchids that line the banks and the brilliant emerald green vitality bursting from every leaf and vine that could keep a mortal alive for a thousand years. They want to feed their glory on your broken bodies. They want to take the people you protect for slaves, the women shamed and disgraced and the men subservient and humiliated.

You’ve seen it for yourself.

You’ve tasted the water of streams running red with blood, the iron like acid on your blue tongue.

You’ve swam farther and seen enough to make you hate. Families torn apart, children with their hair cut off and given names in an ugly language, forbidden to speak their own - the same language you speak. Fathers dragged onto large ships, larger than a butandíng, never to return. Altars burned. The men put your red sisters who live in the balete trees, their hair tangled with vines and lovely, fierce, flickering yellow eyes, to the flame. You witnessed their dying howls and curses for vengeance.

Some of the white-haired annani have already begun to clip their pointed ears, tear the crowns of flowers from their hair, and even cut out their tongues so as to lock away the magic these men desire, never to be spoken again. “There is no place for us,” Those tall, graceful elves told you. “We will be gone in a generation, by sword or by starvation.”

They’re coming.

The jungle is quiet as it has never been in a thousand years.

You could no more hide your tail, glittering blue and turquoise, with long, sweeping fins like ferns, than you could hide the long sweep of hair that reaches your waist, or the ink-black lines embedded on your skin, painting your face, your neck, and your arms with the story of your people and your home.

The calls that echoed from the depths of the river have stopped. It seems that your family has accepted that you won’t come back.

You look at your webbed hands, test your claws against your flesh. What is one magindara to a hundred conquistadors?

When the men spear you, they won’t just be slaughtering a mermaid. They’ll be killing the stories you keep. Centuries of stories. Countless names. Each pearl around your neck is a tribe, full of the old songs of grandmothers and the new rhymes of babies. You’re draped in thousands of shimmering strands of pearls.

You may not be the cleverest, or the most beautiful, or the one with the sweetest voice…

But you can be the bravest.

“Lord Morpheus,” You intone, frowning as the syllables ripple wrong and harsh from your throat.

You’ve never spoken to any of the gods beyond your islands before. “Dream of the Endless.” All you can do is hope and pray this one listens and comes to you in time. Will they be kind? Will it be merciful? Will he, or she, save your home?

Perhaps such a god does not exist at all, and you are praying to wind and sunlight, and soon your guts will color the cerulean water purple and black. The strange men will defile your body, no doubt. A week ago, you crawled from your river to cut down the corpse of a long-gone ate from a stake, jagged holes ripped into the tail of her corpse that made you vomit and her dead eyes full of pain.

Once you’d laid her to rest in the water, she dissolved into nothing. “Prince of Stories,” You sing. That is what faces everything you’ve ever loved if you fail.

“I beg you, save us. Save our stories, our dreams. We call for your aid.”

The men bark at each other. Any moment now, they’ll see you, your hands raised and your face tipped towards the heavens, inky flowers blooming on your forehead and cheeks and crocodile teeth tattooed on the sharp line of your jaw.

A new quiet falls over the world. Like nighttime, when things are resting, not dead.

You have called, and I answer.

A being stands on the banks of your river in the shape of a man. His hair is blacker than Bakunawa’s maw and his eyes are filled with gold and silver stars brighter than any you’ve seen before. His pale skin carries no markings.

He is as grotesquely, menacingly beautiful as the razor’s edge of shark teeth, as a great python curling in a tree, as an eagle with its claws stuck in the beating, bleeding heart of a monkey.

You feel the weight of his gaze on your brow heavier and hotter than the sun on the longest day of summer, burning out the truth in your heart. “I would bargain with you, Dream Lord. For my people, and my land, and my home, which I love more than my own life.”

What would you have me do? When Lord Morpheus speaks, his voice pours through your mind ringing like the purest, clearest freshwater.

The many jewels around your throat, pearls, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, plates of beaten gold, click as you swallow nervously.

The dream king stands so tall that he could touch the sky if he reached up. And he doesn’t look away or blink. You can’t read the inhuman planes of his face whatsoever, you can’t find any familiar sign in his long limbs that might bring comfort. For all you know, you’ve spelled your doom.

“Keep them alive. Keep our names and spirits alive. Bring our stories into your kingdom so that we won’t be forgotten. That is what the men want. They want to raze us to the ground and rebuild the world in their image but we will not go.” You pause. “We will never, ever go,” You growl, fierce and deadly, around a mouth full of fangs. In your words you pour the horrors you’ve seen, combined with the beauty surrounding the two of you.

The hot, muggy air, the warm rain, the scent of night-blooming jasmines. Orange mangoes, bursting with sweetness, bamboo sticks clacking as joyful youths dance in and out of them, laughing gaily. Rolling drums. Bright feathers tucked into black hair. A toddling child reaching out to her grandmother with a chubby-cheeked smile, pressing the back of the withered, ancient hand against her little forehead. Love, so much love.

I have not walked these lands before.

You found traces of Lord Morpheus scribbled in the margins of paper and in the back alleys of lost dreams. Your last and only hope.

When you went to Diyan Masalanta, she wept and showed how the soldiers bound her hands. When you cried out to her brother, Apolaki, the sun god called back and said the invaders took his shield.

Bathala is gone. Mayari is gone. Lakapati is dead. The conquistadors stripped her naked, cut her ribs from her chest, and planted her bones in the fields they set their slaves, your people, to work.

“They say you are Endless. You preside over all beings in all places. Please, I beg you, preside over us. Are we not worthy of your favor? Do we not deserve to live in your dreams and nightmares?”

If Lord Morpheus refuses you, you’ll cut your throat before you let your enemies have you.

He tilts his head like he can hear your thoughts. One shining hand stretches out, almost as if to touch your face. You sing prettily, little siren. You draw back with a start. Why is there hunger in his voice? A hollow, all-consuming, terrifying hunger?

You know what it feels like to starve when the fish are scarce. This is leagues away, a typhoon to your trickle of rain. Shadows bloom under his hollowed cheeks. His pupils eclipse his brilliant aquamarine irises.

He’s-

He’s aching.

Morpheus flashes his bone-white teeth as he bends at the waist to examine you further. His gaze traces your tattoos, your large, frightened eyes, and your body beneath the necklaces and bracelets.

As scared as you are, as convinced that you’ll bleed the instant his fingers brush your blue-streaked skin, your numb lips move.

“I vow to you now, Lord Morpheus, before every god and being I know, that should you render us this aid, I will give you anything within my power to grant that you wish.”

Anything?

“Name it, my lord, and it shall be yours.” With that, your eyes flutter shut as you await his judgment.

You can’t hide from him, even in your mind. You don’t see him, but you feel a straining pressure build where he prods at you, pushing on the fragile edges of your being like he’s cracking a duck egg. He claws and scrapes until-

I will aid your people.

You open for him like a sampaguita flower. Dream of the Endless picks through your soul like he’s picking blossoms, you feel how much he wants with every brush, every long moment where he sticks his fingers in and relishes the feel of you. Nothing has ever touched you like this before.

He’s on his knees on the riverbank, the dark soil pressing into his clothes. His hands clench the rocky edge of the bank. Your wet hair sticks to your back as you rise up, close enough that you can count his night-black eyelashes. There’s a dizzying amount of them.

“Thank you. Thank you. Salamat-po. And your price, majesty?”

You’ll do whatever he wants. Does his thirst demand souls? You’ll harvest them by the dozen. You can picture Lord Morpheus unhinging his jaw, swallowing those soldiers whole. Their swords wouldn’t even scrape him going down. Riches? You have no use for them if you’re dead. He can take every speck of wealth to be had.

You. I want you.

Your sisters and brothers wail. They sense the foreign king tearing at the flesh binding you together. They feel him taking a knife to your indigo heart and cutting it loose from your body. Your head tilts back as you gasp for breath and see him hold the organ aloft. Dark blood trails in rivulets down his wrists.

“I-“

There are no creatures like you in my realm. So I shall have you, in every way that I wish, and you’ll obey. Those are my terms.

Your tail lashes in the water as if you fight hard enough, you can swim away. The cavity pulses with searing, unholy pain. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve summoned- He is an aswang, a devil, a soul-eater, you’ll never see your home again, you’ll never touch the water you’ve known since birth.

Lord Morpheus brings your heart to his mouth. His lips are beautifully-formed. You can’t find it in yourself to hate such a wondrous creature. Even your amethyst ichor looks more beguiling when he’s covered in it.

It was never a question. “Yes, my lord. I accept these terms.”

His white teeth stain purple when he sinks them into your heart.

Glossary:

Ate (ah-tey) - sister

Kuya (koo-yah) - brother

Butandíng - whale shark

Balete tree - very cool large tree native to Southeast Asia

Annani - elves from the stories of the Ibanag people, who look like humans with pointed ears. They are kind guardians of the forest and often share healing knowledge with humans if treated with respect.

Magindara - mermaids from the folklore of the Bicolano people. Beautiful half human, half fish guardians of rivers/streams/lakes/the oceans, who sing to lure fisherman and warriors to their death but leave children unharmed.

Bakunawa - a great mythic serpent and god/goddess of darkness. Various myths place Bakunawa responsible for eclipses.

Diyan Masalanta - Tagalog goddess of love, war, childbirth

Apolaki - Tagalog god of the sun and war, patron saint of warriors, soldiers, modern day patron saint of Filipino traditional martial arts (Kali/eskrima/arnis) practitioners

Bathala - the Tagalog supreme creator god

Mayari - the Tagalog goddess of the moon, war, revolution, and justice. She fought her brother Apolaki for dominion over the heavens.

Lakapati - the Tagalog goddess of fertility, food, bounty, balance, and prosperity. She represents both male and female and has both male and female genitalia. Patron saint of queer/trans people.

Sampaguita - the Filipino name for sambac jasmine, the national flower of the Philippines

Salamat-po (sah-lah-maht poh) - thank you (utmost respect) in Tagalog

Aswang - overall name for the malicious/demonic/monstrous beings in Filipino folklore. Vampires, zombies, ghouls, organ eaters, cannibals.

I hope you guys liked this! Let me know if you have any questions or want to read more from this.

#the sandman #magindara #sandman #the sandman comics #sandman comics #the sandman tv show #sandman tv show #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #Dream of the endless #lord morpheus #lord morpheus x reader #lord morpheus x you #Morpheus #morpheus x you #morpheus x reader

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jumpywhumpywriter · 3 months

Text

"I Want You to Scream" -- Hero Tortured by Villain, Intimate Whumper part 2

Warnings: chains/restraints, severe torture, blood, cauterization, iron rod branding, knives, intimate whump, etc.

He was left sweaty and panting and shaking when it was finally over, small whimpers leaking out between broken breaths and gulping gasps of air.

Villain ran her fingers over the fresh wounds, smearing blood across his shoulder before smiling with satisfaction. "Beautiful," she whispered. "You took it so well, too! I'm impressed." She got up and returned with a large mirror, holding it over him so that he could see her handiwork.

Beneath all the blood oozing out Hero could make out an intricate bird, and immediately recognized it as Villain's hero emblem from when she was one of the good guys.

"Magnificent," Villain purred, her eyes glittering with cruel delight. "Let's continue, shall we? You're a strong Hero... I'm sure you can handle anything I choose to do to you." She took a second to pull out her phone again, snapping a few pictures of her artwork before leaving the room, returning with a bucket that had a metal rod in it.

"This will help make your mark more... permanent." Villain laughed as Hero's eyes widened with sheer terror and muted panic when she pulled out a branding iron, the end glowing orange with heat. It was formed in the same pattern as the bird she'd carved, matching it perfectly.

Villain crawled onto the bed and sat on Hero's stomach, straddling him as she pressed her free hand firmly on his chest to pin him.

"No... NO! PLEASE, don't do this! I'll give you anything you want-- name it and it's yours--" Hero started panicking and begging hysterically as she brought the iron closer, he could feel the unbearable heat radiating from it as it passed near his face.

The room felt suffocatingly dim, shadows stretching ominously across the walls, intensifying his fear. He was immobilized, unable to escape the looming dread of what was to come.

Hero threw his head to the side, gritting his teeth and bracing himself. But it did little to help.

With careful, practiced precision, Villain pressed the hot piece of metal firmly against the injury and held it there. Flesh sizzled and smoked as the heat penetrated the skin and cauterized the blood vessels. It would leave a permanent scar... assuming Villain would let him live that long.

Hero howled and screeched in pure agony as it touched him, the hot metal against his skin was excruciating, a searing heat that made him scream his throat raw.

He could feel his flesh sizzling, the pain intensifying with each passing second. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to endure the torment, praying for it to end soon. The room blurred as it overwhelmed him, the acrid smell of his own burning skin making him dizzy, making his stomach churn with nausea.

It was unbearable, each heartbeat sending waves of agony blazing through his body.

Then Villain pulled the branding iron back for a moment, taking a look at the mark and frowning before pressing it back down again, apparently unhappy with the results of the first round. It tore another ragged wail from Hero, that dissolved into sobs of pure pain when the iron was finally pulled away for the second time, leaving his injury throbbing with heat.

He shuddered and cried out as Villain ran light fingers down the roughened, burnt skin, before carding a hand through his sweat-slicked hair with an approving smile.

"See? That wasn't so bad! Because I can do so much worse." Seeing Hero falling apart emotionally, breaking down his walls... it was nothing short of delightful. Hero had always been a stoic person, capable of enduring anything, but here they were, broken. Defeated. Just like Villain wanted.

"While the emblem is a nice touch to your appearance, I feel like something's still... missing from this piece of art..." Villain deliberately trailed off and clicked her tongue with a smile, relishing how Hero's pained eyes went huge at the suggestion of more torture.

"What? You didn't really think I'd be done after that miniscule mark, did you?" Villain scoffed, almost offended as she climbed off his stomach.

"No... don't... please..." Hero's voice came out in a shallow rasp of air from his raw throat, and he quickly closed his mouth at how much it hurt to speak after all the screaming.

"Sorry, I can't quite hear you? You're being too... quiet," Villain mocked knowingly. Hero's eyes tracked her movements as she went to one side of the bed -- and surprisingly uncuffed one of his hands? What was she up to?

But Hero's heart sank when she shackled it to the opposite side of the bed, before doing the same with his other hand followed by his ankles until he was restrained facedown on the plush mattress instead, flipped over onto his stomach.

Hero's muscles were tense with coiled tension, dreadful apprehension twisting his gut in knots. He tried to crane his head over his shoulder to see what was happening as he heard Villain shuffling through drawers, but he couldn't quite twist his head far enough, and gave up with an uneasy huff, his head hitting the pillow again.

There was no escape from whatever Villain planned to do to him, and that was the most terrifying thought of all. That there was nothing he could do about it, completely exposed and vulnerable in nothing but underwear, a helpless victim in her cruel games.

He felt the bed move under him as Villain climbed back onto it, a second before he felt her weight settle on his lower back, pressing him into the mattress as she sat on him like before, her legs on either side of him.

Hero started trembling uncontrollably, his body already seizing with fear as his mind raced with all the horrifying possibilities of what she planned to do. Villain used to be a surgeon; she knew all the wicked ways to keep someone alive and suffering without killing them.

"Mmm... so perfectly unscathed." Hero jumped under her as Villain's impassive voice sounded right next to his ear. He twitched and whimpered as she ran her cold hands along the smooth, blank canvas of skin on his back, which was just begging for her to paint a picture there. The flat planes of his shoulders, the back of his ribs... as though mapping out every inch before deciding where to start.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba

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vialae · 3 months

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I’ve had this thought for a while but I’ve never been able to fit it in anywhere, so;

Durge accompanies Gortash to an Upper City estate/shop/smth. Within the room, there is a small exotic pet in a cage. A bird, a small monkey, etc.. As soon as Durge walks in, this animal start going fucking crazy — howling, spinning, rattling the cage.

The noble they are visiting apologises for the sudden noise, but as an individual who clearly wanted a pet for decorations sake rather than to care for, they ultimately mistake the outburst as excitement.

Said noble then takes the pet out of the cage and hands it over to Durge, attempting to be a good host.

Durge is now frozen, intensely staring at this small creature in their hands. It would be so easy to kill it. To crush and snap its tiny bones; to cease its screeching forever.

And yet, they can’t. They know they can’t. Gortash is continuing on with talking to the noble to schmooze whatever he came for out of them, all while watching Durge from his peripheral vision, also ensuring they do not crush the pet.

If it dies, so does this potential deal with this naive noble.

Durge doesn’t breathe until the pet is removed from their hands and tucked back into their cage, and they have never fled from a room so quickly.

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greyskyflowers · 1 year

Text

I think something I never really stopped to think too much about in One Piece is the sounds.

I grew up surrounded by nature. I grew up listening to the sounds the woods by my house made, the fields of crops down the road, of the river and creeks at my grandparents, and storms rolling over miles of empty plains in the fall.

I could tell you everything you need to know about those things. I didn't fear the dark because I knew it well. I could run those trails in the dead of night and I could have walked the land around my home blindfolded. I knew every branch that scraped, every bird nest full of singing life, every hole waiting for an ankle, every thorn tree that dropped terrible gifts to the earth. I knew it all.

Now I'm learning the sounds of the city. And everything is so loud. You forgot how quiet the world is when it's just you, and our world is full of loud things. Trains, cars, planes, electricity humming, pipes creaking, etc.

I believe I've made mentions of it before in my posts but I'm just really interested in how the One Piece world sounds.

Do the waves make different sounds than our own? Do sea kings sound more like tigers or gorillas when they roar? Are storms still ear shattering when they call out with thunder? Does the wind howl in your ear, or does it sing?

What does it sound like when Marco flies with massive wings right next to you? Does it sound like a regular bird but magnificent? Or does it pop your ears like a plane? Does he make different noises because of his devil fruit? Are his vocal cords different than someone else's?

What about when Buggy separates? The human body makes a variety of sound when it's sperated in different ways, does he sound like thighs stuck together with sweat in the summer or an injury like the loss of a limb? Does it pop like part of a toy, or maybe a click like a lock and key? Does it make a sound like pulling meat apart?

Does Luffy squeak when he moves all the time? Does he sounds like new shoes on marble or the high pitched screech of bare skin on gym floors?

Did Ace make the wooshing sound of dry wood or maybe the soft pops of low embers? Was he more like a forest fire taking off or a candle flickering in the window?

Does Kidd sound like a a car crash? Like metal bending and reforming itself into something messy and new? Does he clang like dropped silverware or is it heavy like metal gates closing? Maybe he sounds like the hammer of a blacksmith on burning metal?

Does Chopper have a way of talking that's distinctive? Like an accent or a lisp? Surely there would be something that would remind people that vocal cords change with each species and suddenly being able to make the noises of the human language would be a learning curve?

Does Robin sound like skin sliding against skin? Like rubbing your arms when you're cold or the dry sound that comes sometimes when you shake someones hand? Maybe she sounds like the wind in a garden or pulling petals off a flower?

Does Crocodile sound like a sandstorm? Does the sand he controls sound like screaming, like howling? Or maybe it sounds like a mudslide, something powerful and earthly?

Does Doflomingo make the the twang of tight threads being pulled and snapped back into place? Maybe the snap of elastic bands or the zzzz of string being pulled of the roll too quick?

Just so many fun things to consider 💭

Might do one of these about some of the other senses too.

#one piece #marco the phoenix #portgas d ace #Luffy #eustass kidd #donquixote doflamingo #tony tony chopper #robin nico #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #devil fruit #straw hat pirates #sounds #setting sail with greyskyflowers

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corviiids · 2 months

Note

For the director's cut fanfic thing: ⭐⭐⭐ (these are THREE stars valid for whatever. I'm giving you blank checks)

thank you again <3

blank check 2/3 goes back to as you like it again! but this time i want to talk about my shadow designs for the akechi bossfights we've encountered in the preceding chapters >:3 there are five - the Puppet, the Singer, the Bard, the Dancer, and the Magician.

but this got really ABSURDLY long this time so ill stick to mostly the Puppet, and just do a brief ("brief") overview of the others for now.......

(for context: this is my palace au and akechi's keywords are akechi goro, the world, theatre.)

the Puppet (photos of giant puppets below if that freaks you out!)

the first Wing the thieves encounter is the puppet show, and the boss shadow is a giant marionette:

For one thing, it’s huge—maybe three or four times the size of a human being. It’s also gleaming, carefully polished and buffed, reflecting light more viciously in the areas where it seems the wood might be chipped or worn. The polish throws the lines of joints and pieces into sharp relief, giving the puppet the general impression of something whole that had been cut up and pieced slowly together with hinges and nails. Behind it, mostly concealed by its limp bulk, is a door. As they might have gleaned from the chatter of the audience, the show does not yet seem to have begun. As such, the puppet on stage is limp on its strings. Most disturbingly, it’s draped backward, not forward, snapped unnaturally at the spine and giving it the extremely uncanny look of a corpse on uneven ceiling hooks. They can just make out the side of the thing’s eyes from where they’re standing. Gravity has not been kind to them: the puppet’s eyelids are dropped open, bulging eyes left wide and staring up as far back as the build will let them. They haven’t rolled all the way into the wooden skull, presumably because they can’t. Instead, the unseeing yellow eyes remain fixed on the back corner of the stage. The puppet is entirely still. “I think I’m going to be sick,” Makoto says faintly.

i think the Puppet is my favourite of the five because he's so disturbing. i imagine he looks a bit like the giant marionettes by the french street theatre show royal de luxe:

but i really love these guys, so i think it's uncharitable to say akechi's shadow looks exactly like them. i know giant puppets are always a little freaky but i genuinely love the royal de luxe puppets and i think the workmanship on these does genuinely do a ton of work to dispel that uncanny vibe.

puppet akechi on the other hand is absolutely drenched in uncanny valley, so i guess imagine these puppets but much scarier. the main thing is those places where different pieces of wood are joined, in the joints / on the limbs / etc, because that's very key to puppet akechi's look in my mind, hence "something whole that had been cut up and pieced slowly together with hinges and nails". the Puppet is a marionette, but the way he's been constructed and set up on stage almost calls to mind the imagery of a corpse that's been reconstructed to perform. the way he moves is really unnatural:

Ren is beginning to think they might be able to get past and slip through that door without a fight when the whole creature rears up, back strings going taut, and lashes wildly out at him with a horrible clack of its arms—he leaps back and crashes directly into Haru, who catches and dips him like a princess before twirling him frantically into Ryuji and the puppet gouges a deep gash in the stage floor. As they watch it screeches, howls an unnatural shriek, eyes suddenly wide and bulging larger. They ‘blink’ a few times, eyelids flipping, then the puppet Akechi goes limp on its strings again, though decidedly more upright than before, like whoever’s pulling the strings is now on guard. Its eyes stay open this time, bright gold and piercing.

very much not like something exercising its own agency, but like a body on strings being operated by someone who did not care to practice in the artistry of operating a puppet to make it look like a live thing - the puppet is literally just a tool to be flailed about.

this also shows in the way the puppet sits when it's at rest. guys do you know how god damn hard it is to find normal pictures of puppets? when you google marionette it just comes up with a bunch of fnaf shit. anyway check this guy out

at rest, they usually just kind of dangle innocently, or might slouch forward if given too much slack, right? it was important to me that puppet akechi look very wrong at rest, as if he's not "at rest" so much as he's just been left to hang. hence: "it’s draped backward, not forward, snapped unnaturally at the spine and giving it the extremely uncanny look of a corpse on uneven ceiling hooks." i'm basically imagining meat hooks, like, in a slaughterhouse or something you know? like he's just dangling from those.

that imagery was inspired by persona 5 dancing, actually - akechi's finishing pose in his dance is this:

this is just such an unnatural pose. when i saw it for the first time, i just couldn't get the image out of my head of a string puppet who'd been hung up and left to dangle without any regard for how it might look or feel (lol). not to mention that blank look in his eyes. i think a lot of the Puppet was born from this dance because the dance itself is so dynamic and silly but then the lead-up to the end suddenly gets very jerky and puppet-like. i really like his dance!

the Puppet's battle mechanic is that the applause will continue as long as the Puppet is either acting or getting hurt (kind of like the mettaton fight in undertale actually?). if the applause stops, then the Puppet will be inflicted with Despair - in p5 the Despair effect means you lose SP for each turn and then instantly die on the third turn. makoto ends up healing the Puppet and yusuke mercy-kills it before it can commit suicide:

Fox silently raises his gun. The Thieves collectively flinch as the Puppet dissipates. The applause starts back up. “If we’d left things silent,” Yusuke says, “it would have only happened again.”

because this is the first shadow bossfight the thieves encounter in the Theatre, i needed it to have some broader implications (vs some of the later shadows who have more specific interactions). so obviously the analogue for akechi is that the performance needs to continue and he needs to continue receiving acknowledgement from the public / from shido / etc because if he's not useful and entertaining and noticeable and such, then he's nothing - his life doesn't mean anything. obviously, if he doesnt perform for shido (perform in the sense of working, but also in the sense of showmanship) he'll probably be killed. but also, akechi really externalises his sense of self to an insane degree. the conceit of the palace is essentially that his entire internal world is the show, it's just this shallow performance, the backstage is empty. if he stops existing in the cognition of the masses, he essentially "stops existing".

i think a lot about third semester akechi in royal and how completely he's faded from public awareness. he doesn't care because he's a dead man walking and has locked into nihilism at that point. but if you look at what akechi says in the engine room:

his voice when he says this says a lot to me. akechi's envisioning the world as it will look when he has to return and face the consequences of the world discovering what's behind the curtain and realising his credibility was all a show. to be honest, i think this also plays a role in his decision to sacrifice himself in this scene. i don't think he wanted to die, but i think he did realise that the post-thieves, post-truth world wasn't a place that held anything for him anymore, and his desire to return to that reality was dramatically weakened, so it was an easier decision for him to choose to make that sacrifice than it otherwise might have been.

um, i had a point. okay, so, i was saying that once the applause stops, the Puppet begins to despair. the Puppet also is the most direct representation of akechi as someone who is being used. all the shadow bosses correlate to some aspect of akechi's need to perform and to the varying reasons why they all have that sense of desperation:

“Kinda feels like they’re just defendin’ themselves, you know,” [Ryuji] says. “Or somethin’. Look too much like him. It’s weird they can’t talk, cos it’s like fighting a dumb animal. Don’t they all seem real scared to you?” None of Akechi’s Shadows have delivered grand speeches about conquering the world. Even Futaba’s Shadow had given them a fairly strong indication of what was going on with her, that overwhelming guilt which had given birth to a resolve to lock herself up in her mind and die. Akechi’s Shadows have lashed out, tried to destroy them, sure. But it feels different in a way that’s growing more and more impossible to ignore. Desperate to fend them off, more than anything, like each one is the final bastion standing for a world that could crumble at any moment.

that's why once you figure out how to stop each shadow's "show" from going on, they instantly die:

ripping the Singer's mask off causes him to cease to exist (see below)

silencing the Bard, who relies on the power of his words to manipulate others, removes his power and reveals that he's pretty easy to take down

the Dancer's feet are always bleeding because he can't stop moving. he's hard to catch, but the moment he stops dancing, he's revealed to have extremely low defence and can be taken out very easily

but the Puppet is literally being manipulated by a puppetmaster. because he no longer has any use when the applause stops, he no longer has a reason to exist. i also just thought this would be a fun effect to start on because it's so drastic as an introduction to akc's psyche and really gives the thieves a sense of what they're working with by throwing them directly into the deep end.

ok let's leave the puppet behind for now. im gonna be more brief with the others i promise (maybe)

the Singer

LET'S TALK about. beneath the mask. a song about ren. but it's also a song about goro.

I'm a shape-shifter at Poe's masquerade Hiding both face and mind All free for you to draw

the fic goes over some of my meta about this:

[Yusuke] I have done some research. [Makoto] Oh? [Yusuke] I believe when the Opera Shadow sang of “Poe’s Masquerade”, he was referring to a short story by Edgar Allan Poe, entitled “The Masque of the Red Death”.

eternally grateful for the scene during the pyramid arc where yusuke loredumps about egyptian mythology so i have precedent to do this

yusuke summarises the story in this chapter (chapter 4), but basically: the story is about rich people abandoning the common folk to a plague, until a personification of the plague wearing a red mask enters the castle. when his mask is removed, it's revealed there is nothing underneath. everyone in the castle then succumbs to the plague.

the superficial connections to akechi are pretty obvious - red mask, plague doctor. etc. but this song is really, really telling for both ren and goro. i briefly went over this in my last dvd commentary post about the palace fic, but this relates to my meta around both of them as mask wearers. the line "all free for you to draw" is a big one - ren is "all free for you," the player, "to draw" - he becomes who you need him to be, and because you need to max out your confidants, he becomes (via you) who his friends need him to be.

goro is similar on a different scale because he moulds his personality to what the public expects him to be. he takes it one step further, because it's less utility for him and more foundational - as i said, to an extent the performance is the substance of his personality, which is the core of the distortion. so both ren and goro are wearing the mask, malleable in character, their actual personality being somewhat questionable, but that emptiness is only true for goro. ren's definitely got something underneath it, but goro feels like he doesn't.

brief cw for suicidal ideation, but i also generally take it as a given that goro doesn't really expect to live past 18 after defeating shido. not that he's actively suicidal, but i think literally or figuratively he knows after shido's downfall, his own life will pretty much be over, and that's part of what drives the emptiness. the show really only needs to go on until that point, and after that there's no need to build a real thing underneath to return to. he's very much living for that goal.

anyway: so the Singer starts out singing the Phantom of the Opera - the Shadow is very much modelled after the phantom - but swaps to beneath the mask and begins to connect with ren. the Singer wears a red mask. i really like this mask! i envision it as looking like someone pouring blood over his face and then the blood freezing in place, so it just looks very molten and liquid but fixed over half his face.

ren defeats the Singer by ripping his mask off:

[Ren] Please don’t take off my mask, revealing dark [Ann] OMG!! [Ann] THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED WHEN WE TOOK OFF HIS MASK!! [Ann] HE REVEALED DARK!!!! [Ann] HE DISAPPEARED!!!!!!!!!!

(i love the thieves because i dont have to be subtle about my symbolism i can just make them say it)

anyway, just like the figure in the Masque of the Red Death, ripping off the Singer's mask reveals "dark" underneath - he ceases to exist.

Just a cage of bones There's nothing inside

the Bard and the Dancer

when i was first plotting this fic, i was actually designing the palace not as a written environment but as though it would be a playable place. so a lot of it is informed by me picturing what this palace would be like to play through and explore, building it out as a video game environment in my mind's eye and then trying to describe it from that point. i took the same approach to the bossfights, so they're all designed around central gameplay mechanics which are largely based on status effects and how the player would strategise around them. (to that end, a lot of the design stuff in my doc never made it into the fic...)

the conceit of the bard was a shadow who can manifest abstract concepts into being by manipulating reality with his words. so the status effects he uses are brainwash and sleep, mostly. his monologues are modified versions of shakespeare's works.

part of the reason why i started writing this fic was specifically to challenge myself in aras of writing im not very confident in: so longform planning, progression of plot, environment description, and action scenes being major ones. writing all the boss fights was and continues to be a real challenge. the chapter that the bard shows up in (chapter 5) ended up taking ages and ages in part because i kept putting off writing this fight. now that it's done, though, the bard fight is actually maybe my favourite fight scene i've written lol. it always turns out that way!!! the reason i like it is because i realised the physical action wasn't the fun part of writing a fight like this. since it was focused on status effects, it meant i got to crawl into ren's headspace when he got brainwashed, which i really really enjoyed doing because i got to drag out some trauma that joker has lovingly repressed.

to set my fellows, phantoms in the wings in deadly hate the one against the other… This isn’t the Casino. This is somewhere else entirely. The Casino, and everything that came with it, that was months ago. How did he forget? The cottonwool that had crept so slowly into his blood dissipates in a mad rush that leaves him dizzy with disbelief. His hands, now that he can feel them again, are trembling. The knife between his fingers, trembling. The cool floor beneath him, the air in his lungs. How close had he come to never feeling that again? Had he really just been feeling safe about that plan? Had he really felt everything was going to be okay? If anything had gone wrong—anything at all—he’d have been gone. He’d have been dead. How had they made it so he felt okay with that? A trick? A ruse? How blasé they’d all been, when it was his life they were gambling with like a worthless set of poker chips! And they’re here—all around him. Safe? He’s never been in more danger. “Joker!” Surrounded. He’s surrounded by the ones who left him for dead.

the Dancer doesn't get as much attention in text because i didn't want to slow down the pacing of the story every few minutes to do another huge scene tgat doesn't really serve a purpose, just like the exploration of the Globe Wing didn't. all that mattered was that he was shown to be adaptable, agile, and resilient - the Dancer needs to be in top condition at all times and ready to dodge any threat. the imagery that came through to me the strongest was the idea that his feet are always bleeding, so he leaves bloodstains all over the floor.

the Magician

this was another scene i adored writing. i think environment-wise, the House of Cards is my favourite Wing in the palace because it's the most unique structure. it's not a styled theatre like the others, it's more on-theme to the Magician, like he's set up his own performance environment. so it's just a huge house of cards made of crumbling playing cards which is really difficult to navigate and which joker kind of blends into.

the premise for the Magician was someone who needs to perform miracles and present impossible illusions as reality with a flair for drama. the Magician fools the Thieves over and over and over again, because they are good-hearted people who want to save him.

did you ever see that unused mementos request in royal where akechi tells the thieves about a target to save someone, and doesn't tell them that the someone in question is dodgy themself, and watches to see how quickly the Thieves immediately trust them?

i don't think i based this fight off this request because im pretty sure i had it planned out before i ever saw this, but i was really pleased to see it because it's very much the same idea. even in the engine room, akechi calls the thieves idiots for inviting him back into the team. of course, this isn't a good or healthy worldview lol and it's something he has to unlearn because he literally trusts no one and that's not an extreme anyone should be endorsing, but he also has a point in that the thieves are willing to throw their faith into things way too easily and don't look critically at people or situations. so the magician fools them, victimises them, tricks them into considering him a victim, fools them again, traumatises them, but they all continue to feel empathy for him and try to save him when he's in trouble. akc's cynicism vs the thieves' faith is a big theme of this one i think and the question is like, when to doubt vs when to trust even when you have evidence to the opposition. i think the right position is somewhere between thesis and antithesis (which iirc is not actually the wording hegel used when describing dialectics? lol... i might be wrong. i never studied hegel so my knowledge is pretty superficial. but i think this was a translation thing anyway because allegedly goro doesnt refer directly to hegel in jp? someone can confirm or deny idk)

anyway those are the bossfights we've had so far!!! just the VIP Box to go now......................... :3

#this writeup took like 3 days of returning periodically to yammer #it's a real relief to actually have these written somewhere #again me writing these is really more for me than anything else i just like being able to keep track of and publish them Somewhere i can #refer to them instead of just like... trapped in my skull... or a google doc that lags to hell every time i try to open it #rookfic #rookthots #p5 #asks #i had so much fun designing the wings and shadows #impossible dreams of akc's palace being theoretically playable made me really zero in on like #how to make all of these story features work mechanically #what each fight would look like #i even started composing a palace theme (+ a variant for different areas) which i think ive posted portions of on twitter #the main theme isnt finished. the variant is. i have no formal musical training #just one stupid little bird doing his best. wading thru the fixation puddle #i dont think those snippets are on tumblr right now though. remind me #anyway #AYLI

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bonefall · 1 year

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Spoilers for Riverstars home.

There is a cat named Croak. And im wondering if croak could be used in a name? And if so what others could work? Like tweet, howl, screech, squeak etc and maybe call could be used. What is that in clanmew and what would they be associated with?

IT depends. In Clanmew, most animals are named after their most characteristic sound-- so howl, croak, and squeak wouldn't be unique nouns. You'd phrase it more like a warrior "audibly frogged."

But some animals have a wide range of sounds, so there are some genetic words for various types of animal vocalizations

First, the ones we already have;

Call = Ayeo A loud shout to call for attention, or find someone. Describes communication cries between animals, a vixen may call for her foxes, for example.

Roar = Graow The mythical noise that the Great Clans were able to make instead of a yowl. Unheard of... until the Sundrown Patrol met Sharptooth the Cave Lion in TNP.

Rumble = Ugurr Describes the low, ground-shaking growl of something like a boar or a stag.

Chirp/Note/Beat (Word is used interchangeably) = Bwi The same Clanmew terms for various songs are used for birdsongs. A Bwi is a single beat of the larger song of a bird, or just one word in a speech. When combined with another Bwi, you have a tune. Put tunes together and you have a song.

New ones;

Shriek/Alarm Cry = Eeya The sound that animals make when they are startled. Some prey animals are named for their eeya, like rabbits and their warning thump; pbum.

Gruff = Grruh The defensive growl of a territorial animal, or large prey, such as a muntjac, that is taking a stand. It means "back off."

Chatter = Abichi That constant, tittering noise that animals make when they're happy and in a group. Seen mostly in birds, but also happens with some mammals, and can describe helpful insects that "buzz happily."

Sudden silence = Hah'o When an animal hears you coming and it goes silent, or all the birds in an area stop chattering, that's this word.

Cry/Name/An animal's characteristic sound = Qwawa These are the same word in Clanmew, because an animal is named for its cry! A cry is the "intrinsic" noise of an animal, akin to its very essence. If you ask someone for their name, you are asking for their cry.

#Clanmew

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readingismyhappyplacee · 2 years

Text

JJ Put that Gun Away.

Summary: Summertime is full of fishing, fooling around and Keggers. NOT guns and stealing. What could go wrong? (Fanfic for OBX S1: Ep.1).

JJ Maybank x Reader Fanfic

Warnings: Use and mention of guns, swearing, mentions of drowning.

ALL RIGHTS to Josh and Jonas Pate and Shannon Burke for characters, plot and dialogue, etc. In some cases, scenes and dialouge altered to fit my own ideas.

Y/N could hear the hooting and hollering of her friends from a mile away. The familiar brown Volkswagen van deemed “The Twinkie” howling along with the sound of their voices could be heard as it rounded the corner at the end of the street. Y/N smiled as she could see JJ’s head poking out of the side door, looking right at her.

“You’re going to have to jump in while it’s moving M’Lady! This vessel stops for no one!” JJ yelled at the girl in a funny voice. “Just bend your knees!”

“Uhh, actually JJ, this is our next stop. Did you forget she brought the drinks?” John B’s voice could be heard as the van screeched to a halt in front of her.

“Right.”

JJ and John B hopped out to grab the cooler full of drinks and food Y/N so kindly put together for todays venture. They loaded it into the already stuffed van. Y/N hopped in afterwards.

Soon enough the trio arrived at John B’s place. Unfortunately about nine months ago, John B’s father was lost at sea looking for a shipwreck and presumed dead shortly after. His mother and uncle are in other states, not even close to coming to the Cut. He’s been living by himself ever since and refuses to believe his father is dead until he finds his body. So now, the Château, as it’s called, is the base of operations. Free reign to do whatever a Pogue wants, whenever they want.

JJ on the other hand, doesn’t have much luck either. The blonde has an abusive dad and no other family to support him. He’s finding it hard to get by with a minimum wage job and daddy issues. It’s amazing how tough he is, but Y/N understands that he has to be to get through day by day. The girl helps out when she can by offering her cleaning services, picking up the many beer cans and cigarettes in the house when Jake isn’t there and offering as much food to the boys as she can without her parents finding out. Luckily though, they all have each other and that’s the best thing they could ask for.

Down at the dock, the boys load the cooler onto the boat and JJ offers Y/N a hand stepping in.

“M’Lady.” He bows, taking off his hat and putting it back on again.

A blush dances across her face, though it is unbeknownst to JJ, so she laughs to hide the truth of her feelings towards the boy. It was a rule the group had. No Pogue on Pogue macking. No matter how strong the feelings were. If it was true love or even soulmates, it was strictly forbidden. And even if it wasn’t a rule, she had no chance. JJ was hooking up with a new girl at every party and Kegger hosted lately. It was like he couldn’t get enough. So when he was flirty like that, there was no genuine meaning behind it. It was just JJ being JJ.

Hurricane Agatha had just blown over the Outer Banks, rocking the south side to shambles. As the three friends set off, more and more damage could be seen along the shoreline. Boats, docks, houses, fences - you name it. Every hurricane made the Cut look better yesterday.

The boat approached the marina which was jostling with people on clean-up duty. At least it was bright and sunny today to put people in better moods than before.

“Hi, Miss Amy, you guys make it through?” John B waves at a woman and her husband.

“We’re still here!” She replied back.

JJ wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

“She totally looked at me,” He said.

“Pfft. As if JJ. She wouldn’t even touch you with a 10 foot pole.” Y/N scoffed. JJ feigned hurt.

“Ouch! Watch yourself Y/N, or I’m pushing you in!”

The mess Agatha made was unimaginable. As if reading her thoughts JJ whistled out loud, “Agatha what did you do?”

Pope, another member of the group could be seen filling a bucket with water at the end of his dock. He got stuck with clean-up too. Pope was the smartest of them all. The kid had a full ride scholarship to one of the state’s most prestigious schools. It was unknown why he chose to hang out with such a group of troubled teenagers. He was always so cautious and tense, like his dad was watching. I mean, Heyward was always watching.

“Well, look who we have here.” John B mimics a radio. “We have a mandatory safety meeting, over.”

Pope stops what he’s doing, looking annoyed. John B slows the boat down.

“I can’t. My pop’s got me on lockdown.”

“You’re dad’s a pussy, over.” That time it was JJ.

“Oh, I heard that one you little bastard!”

Heyward. Pope’s father. Not the most approving of his son’s friends but he does his best to understand. Thankfully, Y/N’s parents are good friends with his family. “Hey Y/N, keeping these idiots in line?”

“I try to. It only works if they listen.” She smiles.

“We need your son.” John B interrupts.

“Yeah. And island rules: Day after a hurricane is a free day.” JJ adds.

“Now who in the hell made that up, son?”

“Uhhh… The pentagon I think? We have security clearance. I have a card.”

“Do you really think I’m stupid. Do they think i’m stupid?” Heyward looks at his son.

“I’ll do it tomorrow dad, I promise. I’ll help clean tomorrow.” Pope and his dad bicker back and forth and he slowly creeps towards the boat. Once Pope’s feet hit the deck John B accelerates forward.

“I promise i’ll do it tomorrow!”

“We’ll bring him back in one piece!” Y/N yells back.

All that could be heard is the cursing of Heyward and the gentle splash of the water against the boat towards the neck stop, Kiara. Kiara was Y/N’s best friend. Though she was born a Kook, she was a Pogue more than anything. Rich parents, fancy house and all the nicest clothes. She had all the best things. If she wasn’t with the friend group, she was out saving turtles or promoting some paper-straw activist type things online. Y/N was jealous that she seemed to always catch the attention of boys her age. Maybe she was prettier? More outgoing and funnier? Y/N thought she was enough to fit in, but sometimes it felt like Kie was always in the spotlight, for every boy. She didn’t dare tell her this of course, nothing good would come out of it. They are supposed to be best friends.

Kiara walked down the ramp. JJ greeted her in an Irish accent. He also held her hand as she got in. Y/N tried her best to conceal her face so she looked into her lap.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kiara greeted, forcing Y/N to look up.

“Hey, Kie, how you holding up?”

“Oh ya know, hurricane lockdown things.” They both laughed. That was another reason she couldn’t hate her. She always greeted her first and made her feel included in every conversation. She couldn’t hate her even if she tried.

John B picked up the speed of the boat as they headed out into the marsh. They cracked open some beer and for what seemed like the thousandth time, JJ tried out his “party trick.”

“JJ, you know it never works.”

“Ah! You’re getting beer in my hair!”

Suddenly the boat came to a halt, sending JJ flying off the bow and into the water. Kiara and John B are sent to the deck from their seats.Y/N is halfway off the bow clinging for dear life after just standing up to get JJ to come down. Pope’s abdomen slams against the steering wheel. Groans from each teen are let out respectively.

“Jesus Pope.” Kiara blurts out what everyone is thinking.

JJ resurfaces with a loud gasp for air.

“I think my heels touched my head.” He moaned.

Y/N groans again sitting up and clutching her chest.

“Aw man that’s definitely gonna bruise.”

“I hit a sandbar. The channel changed. Sorry guys.” Pope felt bad. He steps up onto the bow to get a better look at where to navigate. His expression turns to shock.

“Guys! I think there’s a boat down there.”

“Yeah right!”

“No, no. For real, I’m not kidding.”

JJ swims over to get a better look while the rest of the gang almost tip the boat, looking in the direction of where Pope was pointing.

“Shit let’s go!”

Y/N peels off her jean shorts and tank top before diving into the water to join JJ. The rest follow suit. With one huge breath, Y/N submerged herself underwater with the rest of her friends. Even in the murkiness of the water, an unmistakable outline of a Grady White is seen. Whoever’s boat this was they are probably looking for it, that is, if they’re even still alive. Y/N swims inside, a powerful swimmer and certified diver, she looks for any signs of who this boat belongs to. Nothing.

The friends resurface. Gasping for air but in obvious excitement about the discovery.

“That’s a Grady White!” JJ exclaims. “A new one of those is like five hundred grand. Easy.”

They all laugh, climbing back onto the boat.

“That’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge!”

John B suddenly remembers.

“You surfed the surge?” Y/N and Kiara ask together. “Jinx.”

“That’s my boy! Pogue style!” JJ high fives his best friend.

“Seriously John B that’s dangerous! “ Y/N exclaims. “What the heck!”

“Wait, guys, do we know whose boat that is?”

“I tried to get a good look, but it’s too deep.” Y/N said. “Give me the anchor.”

John B rummages through a compartment in the deck, handing Y/N the anchor.

“Payback !” JJ screams, pushing the girl into the water.

She shrieks as she plummets into the water.

“JJ that wasn’t nice!” Kiara scolds.

“Hey, she asked for it earlier.” He shrugs it off.

Y/N swims the path towards the boat, attempting to get a better look at anything more than she already saw. She spots a key dangling from a pole near the steering wheel, but struggles to get it unhooked.

Meanwhile, the four friends stand worried. “She’s been down there a while man, should I go get her? JJ asks.

“Nah she’s got this. Believe in her.”

JJ frowned, worry evident on his face. Pope noticed.

“You like her!”

“What- no! I don’t like anyone, especially not her! Remember rule number one?”

“Liar!”

“I’ve been waiting for someone to bring that up! Finally!” Kiara chimed.

“We’re just friends okay guys? Nothing more. Now shut up.”

“Jeez JJ you’re blushing so hard it looks like you have a sunburn!” John B teased.

“I said shut up!”

JJ couldn’t be more thankful Y/N was underwater right now, even if she may be drowning. It’s true he may have a bit of a crush on her, but he knew the rules. Instead, he uses other girls as distractions from the fact.

The sound of the topic-of-conversation girl breaking the surface brought JJ back to real life.

“I found a key!” She managed to say between breaths.

JJ and his friends breath sighs of relief. No CPR was needed. He went to the edge of the boat, effortlessly pulling her up towards him. She lost her balance slightly but he grabbed her waist to steady her. The action did not go unnoticed by the rest. JJ quickly jumped backwards like he stepped in a fire. Y/N shot him a puzzled glance but said nothing.

“I think it’s a motel key.” She said, drying herself off with a towel.

“Great. A damn key. “ JJ scowled. He was hoping for anything worth some cash.

“Guys I think we should report this to the coast guard, maybe get a finders fee?” Kiara pointed out.

“Yeah, then we don’t have to work all summer.”

The crew headed back into town to go report the wreck. The sun was beginning to set ever so slowly and the warm glow illuminated Y/N’s face as she stared off into the horizon.

“What’s on your mind, sunshine?” JJ sat next to her for the first time after his awkward moment.

Y/N was surprised he called her a nickname she’s never heard of.

“I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I think it suits you.”

“Thanks JJ.”

The girl avoided the question, not wanting to tell him he was the one on her mind all of the time. She waited in the HMS Pogue while the others attempted to talk to someone about finding the sunken boat. With the recent hurricane and the damage it created, many people were lined up with complaints. Her friends came back quickly with another plan.

“The motel? Are you crazy?” Pope said.

“I call lookout.” Y/N said.

“Me and JJ will check it out.” John B suggested.

When the group arrived at the motel, it appeared very run down, and not just by the hurricane.

“This isn’t exactly 5 stars.”

“Yeah, it looks like a place someone with a Grady White would get killed.” Pope shuddered.

JJ and John B jumped to shore. Not wanting to draw attention to the rest do the group, the trio left pretended to be hanging out and talking.

“Be careful.” Kiara spoke softly to John B.

Last Y/N heard was something about a mattress.

“Be sooooooo careful John B.” JJ teased as they searched for the matching room number.

“Ever since she heard you were on exile she’s told you to be careful. Oh, give me that John D already. Why don’t you hop on that man?”

John B scoffed.

“You know the rules. No Pogue on Pogue macking. And don’t get me started on you and Y/N.”

“I don’t like her I told you this already.”

“Like hell you don’t dude. You’re always looking at her.”

JJ glared at his best friend. He licked his lips.

“Okay, c’mon man of course I’m looking at her, she’s hot. Can we forget about the rules?”

John B stopped in front of room 229 and stayed silent, fumbling with the keys.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You need help. Like, serious help.”

“Still a yes! Housekeeping!” JJ said in a high-pitched voice. With no response, the boys entered the room.

Down below, the trio on the boat were having a similar conversation.

“Do you have a thing for John B?” Y/N asked her best friend.

Pope looked away from the motel to look at Kiara’s facial expression, amused by Y/N’s blunt question. Kiara rolled her eyes and stood up.

“I don’t. I’m just worried about him. The whole foster thing must really suck.”

“And you’re not just worried about him in a different way?” Y/N suggested, grinning.

“Oh my god stop it! I don’t! And how about JJ, everyone knows-“

“Guys, cops! Cops!” Pope interrupted.

In the small parking lot full of debris, the sheriff’s pickup truck could be seen pulling in and stopping. Y/N groaned.

“Why does my dad have to ruin everything!”

Deputy Shoupe and Deputy Plumb exit the car and talk with a man nearby. They start pointing to the second level of the motel, exactly where JJ and John B were.

“We have to warn them.” Kiara said. She jumps off the boat and books it to the side of the motel. Pope and Y/N exchange glances before following, trying not to be seen by Y/N’s police officer father. Staring up at the window, the stress begins to set in.

“Okay stand back.” Pope said, picking up a rock. He looked up at the window and threw it. The rock barely made it halfway up before gravity brought it back down again.

“Didn’t you ever play baseball?” Kiara pegged.

Y/N laughed.

“I was on the math team!” He whisper-yelled back.

Kiara also tried to throw a rock but missed. She tried it again and it made a loud ‘tink’ sound against the glass. Y/N picked up one and it did the same. JJ and John B’s faces could be seen through the blinds almost instantly.

“Cops! There’s Cops! Cops!” The friends on the ground simultaneously whispered and pointed at the entrance to the room. The boys could be seen scrambling in the room. The three friends sprinted to the boat, ready to leave at any second.

“Should we peel?” Kiara asked.

“No! Never leave a Pogue behind.” Pope said.

“Guys look! They’re on the awning!” Y/N pointed.

JJ and John B were in fact on the small ledge of the awning on either sides of the window. Their positions looking very uncomfortable. JJ laughed silently while John B used his pointer finger to tell the rest of the group to be quiet.

The boys were up there for a while until suddenly something fell out of JJ’s pocket, hit the awning and fell to the ground a few feet down. John B visibly cringed. The blinds to the window retracted and Shoupe’s figure looked outside. Pope, Y/N and Kiara quickly attempted to look away and act like they weren’t involved.

“This is gonna be tough to explain later.” Y/N sighed.

Theslamming of a door caught their attention as the officers began to leave. Shoupe handed a duffel bag to the other officer. Before leaving, Shoupe came towards the boat. Y/N glanced at her friends’ position at the window, then back at her dad before he noticed her staring.

“Hey, sweet pea, what are y’all doing here?” He looked between the three of them.

“Uhhh.. Hey Dad I didn’t see you here!”

“My aunt was visiting and staying here. We just came to check on her. We were just about to leave.” Pope interjected.

“Yeah, Dad. We wanted to make sure she was okay. What are you doing here?”

“Ah, someone reported missing. Just like after every hurricane. Doing my part to make sure there’s no dead bodies around.” He chuckled like what he said was normal. It was obvious where Y/N’s bluntness came from. Y/N awkwardly laughed, hoping to speed this conversation up.

“Did you find anything?”

“Nah. Just an empty motel room.”

“Cool.”

“I have to go. See you later honey. Stay out of trouble kids!” Shoupe saluted and walked back to the truck. JJ and John B made their way down after a few minutes to make sure the coast was clear.

“Holy shit, man. That was crazy!” JJ exclaimed., jumping into the boat with John B on his tail. Pope pulled away from shore and back out towards the exit.

“Why did he lie about taken things from the room?” Y/N asked. No one was sure.

“Did you guys find anything?” Pope asked the boys, changing the subject.

“Did we find anything?” JJ repeated. He pulled out a stack of money and a gun. The biggest grin was on his face. Y/N moved away from him.

“Are you insane?” She yelled.

“I’m going to lose my scholarship.” Pope moaned.

“It’s better than the cops having it!” JJ reasoned.

“No it’s not, dude! Anyone else that’s not you is better.”

JJ grabbed Pope and put the barrel to his mouth in a “shush” motion. Pope pushed him off.

“I’m living a nightmare.”

The group found their way back to the marina. As they were offloading there was a commotion with another large boat. Paramedics and the police were surrounding a man that looked to be dead. A dead body. As they were wheeling the body away from the boat, a woman ran frantically towards it.

“Scooter! Scooter!” She yelled. She clung to the man, caressing his face and assessing his condition. She broke down into tears. It was Lana Grubbs.

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked her friends.

“That’s Scooter Grubbs.” A random girl next to them chimed in. “He was out during the storm. Check out this pic I got. Dead body.” She bragged. She pulled out her phone and began to show a close up picture of the man being wheeled away in front of them. Y/N shuddered. Was that who her dad was looking for?

“What type of boat did he have?” JJ asked the girl.

“Somehow that dirtbag copped a brand new Grady White.”

The friends glanced between each other silently. Y/N looked at JJ and found that he was already looking at her. She gave him a look asking for more information but he just shrugged.

“Everyone’s out looking for it.” She added.

Back at the Chateau, Pope was telling everyone to keep their mouths shut about the situation. His panicked look on his face was enough to let everyone know he was terrified.

“We all have complete and total amnesia, okay?”

“For once I agree with you Pope. Deny, deny, deny.” JJ said.

“We can’t keep that money,” Kiara said. “It’s bad karma.”

“She’s right you know, it doesn’t belong to us. It belongs to Lana Grubbs,” Y/N added.

“Not everyone can afford unlimited data plans, ladies.” They rolled their eyes.

“Look, JJ I’ll help you out a little more this week if we just return the money.” Y/N’s tone softened, trying to reason with the blonde. He looked at her, silently adoring how she worried about him.

“Let’s go dark.” Pope said.

“If it means I get to keep the money, I’m in.”

John B finally spoke up.

“I don’t agree.” He said. “This is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about. Same dude that buys individual cigarettes. Shit, one time I saw him begging for change in front of the Save-a-lot because he needed gas! This guy has never had more than forty bucks in his pocket and all of a sudden he’s got a Grady White? Just saying.”

“I need a break from you guys.” Pope moaned, standing up to walk to the dock.

“Look, Pope, how does a guy like Scooter get a Grady White?”

“Prostitution?”

“Square groupers bro. Flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance, they don’t do that stuff during a hurricane.” John B reasoned. “What does that mean, JJ?”

“They were straight smugglin’.” He grinned.

“I’m guessing there’s a crap ton of contraband on that boat.” Y/N added.

“Okay so if there was that kind of stuff on board, and it belongs to someone, they’re going to come looking for it, right? So taking it would be catastrophically stupid.”

“You’re right.” JJ said. “But stupid things have good outcomes all the time. All we need to do is find a way to get into that cargo hold of that wreck and then lay low.”

“And how exactly do we do that?” Pope asked.

“Kegger?” Kiara proposed.

Y/N had went over to Kiara’s house to steal an outfit for the night.

“Red or pink?” She asked Kiara.

“Red. JJ won’t stop staring at you if you don’t.”

“C’mon Kie, stop teasing. You and me both know he doesn’t like me like that. Look at all the women he hooks up with. You don’t see me on the list.”

“Fine! Don’t listen to me! But open your eyes girl!”

Y/N was mad that Kie was playing with her feelings. She knew that JJ would never think of her like that. Was she not telling her something?

“I’m a police officer’s daughter Kie, no guy wants to talk to me.”

Within an hour, the group had gathered all the materials for the Kegger and met at the Boneyard. Y/N spotted JJ up ahead. His blonde hair unmistakably glistening in the sunset glow. She wondered if he would talk to her tonight or take off with another new girl. Once down to the sand, the keg was set up and ready to go. John B started filling up cups of beer for everyone. Soon, a crowd started to form. The boneyard was a mix of three crowds, the Pogues, the Kooks and the Tourons. The Tourons are just kids here on vacation with their families for the summer. As the night progressed, Y/N found her place with a group of Pogues she knows from school. The group was laughing around a fire, retelling a story about how a teacher was caught making out with a student after class. The principal found them and he was fired right away. The kid only got a 3 day suspension. Y/N felt someone sit next to her. She looked to her left. A boy around her age with curly brown hair and a lanky stature smiled at her. A Touron.

“Hi. I’m Dean.” He greeted. “I’m not from here and you look pretty friendly enough to talk to.”

This made Y/N laugh.

“Why thank you. I’m Y/N. Welcome to the island.”

She shook hands with the boy jokingly. She could feel the effects of the alcohol she was drinking starting to flow through her body.

“Another beer?” Someone with a keg asked.

Y/N accepted the beer with a grateful smile then turned back to Dean.

“So, new guy, where you from?”

“San Fran. I’m a long way from home.” He smiled. “My moms friend recommended it here, but too bad there was a hurricane. Cut our holiday in half. We head back in a few days.”

“Ah, big city guy. I could tell, you all have the same vibe.” She teased.

“Hey! I’m officially offended.”

She laughed. “Sorry about Agatha though, really, she was a real pain in the ass.” The two continued to talk about random things. Y/N thought that he was a nice boy to talk to, but he wasn’t JJ.

“See, those are my best friends over there.” She pointed out Kiara and John B. Then a little ways over at Pope. She couldn’t find JJ. “We do everything together.” Y/N was five drinks in. Maybe six. She lost count. Not once did this boy try to make a move on her. At first she was thankful because it is always awkward trying to tell them no, but at the same time her heart sunk because it’s always been that way. There was no way he knew she was the daughter of a cop. He doesn’t live here.

“So, Y/N do you have a boyfr-“ Dean’s sentence was cut off when Y/N suddenly stood up to the the sound of JJ’s voice. He sounded like he was in an argument.

“You’re so funny man!” She heard him yell.

Over to the right of where she sat she could see Sarah Cameron and her no-good boyfriend Topper, along with the rest of her friends. JJ did not look happy. None of them did.

“Sorry. I’ll be right back. I’m just going to check up on my friends. They seem a little drunk.”

As she approached the commotion, Topper called them “dirty Pogues.” That term set John B off. He forcefully shoved Topper backwards, causing him to stumble. Topper looked shocked and then lunged forward and threw a punch so hard at John B’s face that it looked like it would knock his teeth out. John B fell against the sand, unable to stand up.

“Babe! Babe!” Sarah attempted to stop her boyfriend from causing any harm, but it was no use,Topper hated Pogues. Topper continued to kick John B until he reached the edge of the water.

“Hey John B, don’t make me do what happened to your old man, all right?”

The crowd around began to chant for them to fight.

“Stop!” Y/N screamed at them, rushing in. JJ held her back, shaking his head no. If it wasn’t for the situation it would’ve felt like a hug.

“Guys stop!” Kiara hissed at Topper and John B.

John B mustered up enough to stand again and used his momentum to tackle Topper into the shallow tide. Both attackers now soaked from the cool water.

“Let him go John B!” Pope yelled.

They continued to throw punches at the others abdomen and back. John B was able to land a few good hits.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” JJ cheered.

Topper and John B continued to trade hits. Unfortunately, Topper was able to gain the upper hand and slam John B into the water face first. He then got on top of him.

Sarah and Kiara began to scream. JJ had never looked so frightened in his life for his best friend.

“JJ do something!” Y/N screamed at him. JJ looked torn. He ran towards Topper and John B and pulled out the gun.

“No JJ!” Y/N called after him, terrified.

JJ rested it on the crown of Toppers head after he cocked it.

“Yeah, you know what that is. Let him go.”

The crowd of people started screaming and dispersed ridiculously fast after spotting the gun.

“JJ put the gun down!” Y/N tried again.

“Okay, okay we’re good man!” The anxiety in Topper’s voice was evident. He rose with his hands in the air.

“Everyone listen up! Get the hell off my side of the island!” JJ screamed at the top of his lungs. He rose the gun in the air and shot it twice to prove that he was in control. Sarah and Topper ran off. Y/N covered her ears. She was terrified of guns after her mother was shot on duty when she was a thirteen. Y/N had never been told the full story but the tale left it’s mark. Mrs. Shoupe has since retired from being a police officer and chose to write books instead. A very drastic career change.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled at her. “Let’s leave!”

Dean was standing alone in the middle of the sand. He had waited for her to make sure she was okay, not knowing that JJ was her friend since she couldn’t find him when she was pointing them all out earlier.

“Who the fuck are you!” JJ pointed the gun at Dean. Dean put his hands in the air to show his surrender.

“Woah, woah man! I come in peace! Please!”

“JJ stop!” Y/N screamed.

“I said, who the fuck are you?!”

“I’m just here visiting the island! My name is Dean!”

JJ looked at Y/N, but put the gun down, finger still on the trigger. Dean visibly sighed of relief.

“How do you know him?”

“I-I met him earlier at the fire. JJ you’re scaring me with that please you know I hate them.” In the heat of the moment, JJ has totally forgotten your fear of guns. His demeanour changed completely. He put the gun back in his pocket and threw his hands on his forehead in frustration. Y/N huffed at his behaviour. She saw a different side of JJ tonight. One that she was not used to. He scared her and their friends and she just needed to go home. It’s been a long night. She looked her friends in the eye.

“Get some sleep guys, and make sure John B is alive.” She gestured to the boy who was halfway in the water. She gave on last glance to JJ before turning back up the trail with Dean right behind her. She burst into tears. Her crying heard by JJ as he watched her figure until she disappeared into the darkness. Y/N had hoped he would have at least apologized.

After last night Y/N woke up feeling anxious and upset. The image of JJ holding a gun haunted her memory. She knew it wouldn’t just go away. She remembered Dean walking her home and asked for her number before he left to go back to his hotel. She politely declined saying a mere ‘it’s complicated.’ He understood and said he was glad she was safe. He gave her his just in case she changed her mind. A text on her phone rung softly on the bedside table. She picked it up and a short text from Kiara read:

‘Hey I know after last night you don’t want to see JJ, but we need someone that knows how to dive. We’re searching that boat today and you’re the only one that knows how to properly dive and has the equipment. You in?’

‘Will he promise to get rid of the gun?’

‘No promises :(‘

Y/N groaned in her bed. Typical JJ. A knock on her door perked her up. Her father walks in, wearing his uniform.

“Hey sweet pea, I know sometimes it’s hard to be a dad and a police officer at the same time, but I know there was a gun used last night at that party. Do you know who had possession of it?”

Y/N froze in a silent panic. She couldn’t throw JJ under the bus like that, even if guns scared her. He would never forgive her and she would most likely never see him again.

“Uhh, no I was over on the other side of the fire. When the crowd of people started running saying that there was a gun I ran too. You know I hate them.” She tried her best to sound convincing. Sometimes her father was intimidating. He gave her a raised eyebrow.

“You sure? It sounded like it was one of your Pogue friends.”

“No they were all with me around that time.”

He hummed, definitely not satisfied with her answer.

“Well, the Sheriff already told me she knew who it was but didn’t give me his name. I figured you’d know who it was.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Now, I don’t think the island is safe right now, so I need you to make smart decisions. No parties, no boats, no beaches and no hanging out with your little Pogue friends for a while. I don’t think they are very good influences.”

“Dad you can’t do that!” Y/N cried. “They’re my friends! I don’t care about the parties but that’s just not fair!”

“It’s what’s best. A man was found dead yesterday and I don’t need you being the next. The marsh is closed until we can find that sunken boat and any clues leading toward the investigation. I better see you here when I get back.”

And with that, Victor Shoupe was out the door without a final glance towards his daughter. His heavy footsteps heard as he descended the stairs.

“You could have at least closed the door!” Y/N got up with a huff, slamming it hard enough to prove she was upset. He was right about one thing, having a police officer father was hard. She raced back to her phone, tapping on Kiara’s contact.

‘Bad news. Dads got me on lockdown saying it isn’t safe right now. He said the marsh was closed so if we’re doing this it’s gotta be fast. Gotta sneak around my mom to get the gear.’

Luckily, Y/N’s mom was locked away in her study, like usual. It was one room she was never allowed into no matter the circumstance. She had caught glimpses at it, but not long enough to make out what she does in there. Sometimes she would walk by and hear her aggravated sighs and hear frantic typing on her laptop. She figured it was just her working on a new novel and writer’s block. Everything about that room was a secret to her. Even her father rarely entered. Y/N changed into her bikini and jean shorts before sneaking down the stairs after she heard her father leave and the pickup truck pull out of the driveway. Avoiding the study, she ducked out the back door to avoid being seen through the window at the front of the house. The diving gear was kept in their small shed in the backyard. Half of the memorabilia, toys and tools in here hadn’t seen the light of day in years. With her parents so focused on their careers they never surfed or gardened since she could remember. After her mother was shot, life had never been the same. It seemed like her dad was trying to prove that he has what it takes to become Sheriff one day and that her mother had to prove to the world that she is interesting enough to buy her books. Why was there anything to prove? None of her books made bestselling titles except for her autobiography of her life as a detective, wife and mother. She wrote mystery novels now. How fitting.

The shed was unlocked. After locating the box of diving gear, she double checked that there was a mask and an oxygen tank before lifting it off the shelf and sneaking around the house again. She hopped in her car, thankfully parked on the street before making her way to the Chateau, not ready to see JJ.

The boat ride out to the wreck was silent. The tension between Y/N and JJ could be felt from everyone around them. As John B came to a stop, Y/N brought out her gear, getting ready to hop in. John B threw out an anchor.

“Fuck. This tank is a quarter full. I guess it really has been that long. I don’t even know if this is safe.” Y/N said, displaying her thoughts out loud.

“Great, I love it when a plan comes together.” Pope said sarcastically.

“It should only be... “ She looked down at the boat below. “25 minutes if that boat is 30 feet down. I just have to mark a safety stop.”

With that she took a ribbon from the gear box and her shorts off and plummeted into the water.

“That was hot.” JJ blurted.

The friends rolled their eyes. Y/N resurfaced and jumped back into the boat.

“Okay I tagged about ten feet down the anchor line. It’s where I’ll do my safety stop.”

For the first time since last night, JJ spoke to Y/N.

“Okay, when you’re down there, you’re going to look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?”

Y/N nodded, grabbing the key from JJ. She was still waiting on that apology.

“See ya in a few!”

She placed the mask over her face, saluted to her friends and jumped into the water. The water in the marsh was murky, but the outline of the boat was evident amidst the cloudiness.

Above water, the sound of police siren whooped through the air.

“Oh shit it’s Y/N’s dad!”

“Just act frickin’ natural!”

“Evening, officers.”

“Evening.” Shoupe said in an assertive tone. He threw Pope a line to tie the boats together. The other cop from the motel raid was with him.

“How you kids doin’? You know the marsh is closed?” He asked.

“No.”

“No, wow.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Why- why was it closed?”

The friends tried to act as normal as possible. Their attempts feeble.

“We’re conducting a search out here. Boat went down. Seen anything?”

A collective round of ‘no’s’ came from the group. Shoupe didn’t seem terribly convinced. JJ suddenly remembered that Y/N was down there, using more and more oxygen by the minute. He prayed she wouldn’t pop out of the water anytime soon. Another situation with bad timing. The others seemed to realize too, attempting to hide their agitation from the officers. Shoupe noticed this.

“I’m going to uh, check your little boat out.”

“You wanna check, uh check her out, yeah.” John B stuttered.

“Thank you.”

Shoupe made his way into the boat. He glanced at each of the teenagers faces.

“You got any more of these?” He asked, holding up a life jacket.

“Yeah, yeah. There’s more in the hold.”

Kiara stood up so he could look under the seat.

JJ pulled out three more life jackets.

“Yeah, here you go.” He said.

Shoupe nodded sternly. He looked out onto the water, suspicious. He made his way to the bow of the boat.

“Be careful. You don’t want to slip.” Pope commented. Shoupe placed his sunglasses on, scanning the water for anything out of the ordinary. The sunset made it hard to search, creating a glare of colour on the surface.

“All right.” He concluded. “Beautiful day.”

“Sure is, sir.”

“Let us know if you see anything on your way out.”

“Will do.” Replied JJ and Pope.

“We’ll be gone soon sir.”

“Yes you will.”

Shoupe got back into his boat and drove away. When he was out of sight, the group rushed to the side, worried for the girl who was underwater.

“She’s definitely out of air.” Pope said.

“There she is!” JJ yelled.

“Oh god! Jesus Christ!”

Y/N gasped for air loudly and desperately. She pulled the mask off and swam towards the boat.

“How’d it go down there?” John B asked. “Did you find anything?”

Unable to speak properly, Y/N tossed a black bag she scavenged onto the deck near JJ’s feet. He grabbed it immediately.

“Hell yeah!” He said.

Y/N climbed the ladder, still short of breath.

“Yeah, you’re dad was here, but we took care of him.” Pope told her. Y/N let out an exasperated laugh.

“Gotta, get back, before he does.” She said between breaths. She sat down tiredly.

Kiara suddenly shifted.

“Hey, guys? Bogey at two o’clock.”

“What?”

A white boat was approaching the Pogues fast. Two men were on board. No one recognized it.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know but let’s not stick around to find out. JJ get the bowline.” John B instructed. JJ tried to pull the anchor up as fast as he could.

“Guys don’t wait up for me!” He yelled.

“Let’s go!” Kiara added.

The boat did not slow down. John B started up the boat and headed into the marsh. The mysterious boat and its occupants turned to follow them.

“They’re following us!”

Y/N turned around at the same time the passenger began to pull out a gun. Her eyes widened.

“Gun! They’ve got a gun!” She alerted her friends before ducking down to avoid the line of fire. The first shot was sent out, narrowly missing John B who was intent on driving the boat as fast as he could. The rest of the gang lowered to the deck. JJ instinctively covered Y/N as best he could, shielding her from any potential bullets. He remembered her fear of guns this time.

“John B, get down!” He yelled at his best friend.

The perpetrator opened fire a second time. The boat was gaining on them.

“Oh my god we’re gonna die!” Pope yelled. A third shot rung out.

“Shit! Pope, move!” Kiara said, standing up to reach the net at the back of the boat. Another bullet flew by.

“Kie get down!”

Kiara ignored John B’s plea and threw the net behind the boat. A loud noise could be heard as it wrapped within the prop of the boat behind them. It slowed to a stop. Angry shouts of the two men could be heard as another shot flew after them. The Pogues drove to safety.

Back at the Chateau, John B grabbed the mystery bag and plopped it onto the dock. Y/N was still shaken up by the recent events, opting to be silent. JJ helped her off the boat in her shaken state.

“What do you think is in it?”

“Gotta be money right?”

“Can we please just open the bag!” Pope ushered. “You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.”

John B opened the bag to take out another bag. He opened the drawstrings to reveal a metal cylinder. Y/N watched with eager eyes behind JJ. She hoped her efforts weren’t for nothing.

John B unscrewed the end of the cylinder and dipped it upside down into his hand. A compass fell into his palm. He froze.

“Oh, great job everyone! We found a compass.” Pope stated sarcastically. JJ looked disappointed.

“Sorry Y/N, looks like you almost drowned for a stupid compass that’s not worth anything.”

Y/N frowned while John B laughed.

“This was my father’s.”

Any feedback appreciated. :) Let me know if I should continue! <3

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