#thrash rules

[2-eeillustration]

I can't believe I'm making ANOTHER AU just to have this power couple in Return_0 lmao

[metalsongoftheday]

Friday, May 2: Megadeth, "High Speed Dirt"

R.I.P. Nick Menza (1964-2016)

Countdown to Extinction was the work a cohesive and confident band that had a very clear grasp on what they were trying to achieve, and Megadeth delivered on their objective of crafting a streamlined albeit extremely precise heavy metal record that built on the advancements of Rust in Peace while also largely moving away from thrash altogether.  So “High Speed Dirt” was both a logical continuation of what came before and also its own thing: Rust in Peace didn’t have any tunes about skydiving, but this had a similar ornery temperament and Dave Mustaine’s whine still sounded both annoyed and freaked out while he and Marty Friedman shredded mercilessly.  Nick Menza’s snare sounded overly dry and clinical, but one could still hear him going gonzo on his drums while both keeping pace with and prodding the guitarists on.  In some respects “High Speed Dirt” was a low stakes track for Megadeth, seemingly designed more to support the overarching narrative of Countdown to Extinction rather than exist on its own like “Symphony of Destruction”.  But by the same token it perfectly captured the idiosyncrasy and synchronicity of Megadeth’s best lineup.

[heavymetal]

[jarofalicesgrunge]

Rare picture Cliff and James at backstage with John Marshall who replaced James on guitar when he had broken his arm in a skateboard accident, circa 1986.

[duffsmckagan]

Kirk and Lars are coming home from a date. They’re (Semi Drunk) sucking each other’s faces (kissing really hard). They were totally in the zone.

Lars: Holy fuck! I just now realized that you your mustache makes you hot! I mean you’re already cute, but your so hot with the stache.

Kirk: (Blushes) Thank you, Lars-boo

Lars: Hey, want to get busy in my room?

Kirk: (Heavily breathing) Yeah!

They both start sucking on each other’s faces again and they both walk into the house, close the door all while still French kissing. They make their way towards a room where the door is closed.

Lars: Ok, we’re here. Let’s get this party started.

Lars tries opening the door, but the door won’t open.

Lars: What the hell? Why won’t this damn door open?!

Kirk: Try kicking it like couples do on Tv.

Lars: Ok.

As Lars was about to do that an angry naked Hetfield opens the door with beer in his left hand. In the room is Fem!Kirk covering herself with the blankets.

James: What the fuck are you two idiots doing?! Can’t you see I’m busy?!

Lars and Kirk look like they’re about to shit themselves. They’re frozen.

Lars: Um, we were just going to get busy ourselves…

Kirk: Y-yeah…we didn’t mean to interrupt you and your lady. Uh, we’ll just head over to a hotel.

James: Good. I have business to attend to.

Both Lars and Kirk run out of the house. Later that night both Lars and Kirk are sitting in their huge hotel bed with matching pajamas.

Kirk: You know, seeing James naked and him pissed off made me hard.

Lars: (Shoots a funny look at Kirk)

The End

[burtonclifford83]

mika hakkinen looks like if dave mustaine was in formula one +if he was finnish

[dunyabariscetin]

[ratwitchworld]

[thedman0310]

At a metal show, heard this from the singer

“This next song is dedicated to your mom. And your dad. It’s called CumBlaster”

[dotwpod]

(313) Top Independent Music Picks: February

Disciples!It’s that time of the month! Time for the music to flow! The top picks from the February releases (Full, EPs, Singles) all here for your listening pleasure, hand-picked by yours truly. Hope you find something you love!– Gene\,,/ d(> _ <)b \,,/ BLOCK ONE: 0:03-4:09 Striker (Canada) – Give it All https://strikermetal.bandcamp.com/ 4:10-7:21 Endline (Finland) – Lost [single]…

[metalsongoftheday]

Friday, January 24: Metallica, "Fight Fire with Fire"

R.I.P. Cliff Burton (1962-1986)

Kill ‘Em All may have been Metallica’s first album, but Ride the Lightning was the record where they defined their place as a thrash band: their debut was certainly extreme for its time, but in retrospect its songs, particularly in the riffing and arrangements, were largely an Americanized take on the New Wave of British Heavy Metal.  But “Fight Fire with Fire” was unmistakably thrash, blasting with unremitting intensity (acoustic intro notwithstanding) and gurgling from James Hetfield that was freaked out and irritated at once.  Likewise, Lars’ drumming clumsily aimed for blastbeat intensity and actually regressed somewhat from his more focused attempts at groove on Kill ‘Em All, but successfully matched the guitars in their intensity.  This was like nothing we’d really heard before, and it mowed down everything in its path with a focus that was actually ultimately not very common for thrash metal, but it showed us all who was boss, and was the perfect opener for a perfect album.

[rosemaryhoney27]

Daddy's Girl part 1

Let Go of My Daughter

The battle had been brutal. Debris lay scattered across the ruined street, buildings groaning from the damage, smoke rising from the craters left by the fight between the Justice League and the alien war machines that had descended without warning.

From a nearby rooftop, Dani watched with awe, her white hair glowing faintly in the dusk light. She wasn't supposed to be here—Danny had told her to stay away from trouble. But curiosity had a grip on her soul like gravity. These were the heroes she’d only heard about in stories, seen from the shadows: Wonder Woman, Superman, Batman, Green Lantern—fighting together in a blur of power and purpose.

Then came the hum. A too-familiar mechanical buzz that made her hair stand on end.

Dani turned. Too late.

Agents in white armor, cold faces under dark visors—the Guys in White. They hadn’t come for the alien invaders.

They had come for her.

She bolted, ducking low, turning invisible mid-leap, but they were ready. A glowing ecto-net shot out from a launcher, wrapping around her mid-air, sizzling with power. She screamed as it struck her core, her body flickering between ghost and human, pain tearing through every atom.

“No—NO! LET ME GO!”

Her thrashing only made the net constrict tighter, burning her. One of the agents barked an order, and the voltage increased.

“Subject is destabilizing. Contain or terminate!”

A sickening jolt surged through her.

Her screams echoed across the battlefield. At first, the Justice League didn't realize what they were hearing—amid the chaos, it was just another sound.

But then Superman paused. His ears twitched. He heard the difference. Fear. Pain. A child.

Wonder Woman turned toward him, already running. “Where?”

“North rooftop!”

Batman was ahead of them both, his grappling hook already in the air.

The GIW agents didn’t see them coming—not until a batarang shorted out their generator, sending Dani crashing to the rooftop, gasping and shivering.

The agents turned in surprise, only for a red and blue blur to knock two of them flying into a wall. Wonder Woman’s lasso whipped through the air, tangling up another pair. Lantern constructs snapped the rifles from their hands and crushed them under emerald fists.

But it was too late.

Dani was curled on the rooftop, panting, hurt, and bleeding ectoplasm. Her wide eyes glowed bright green, tears cutting down her ash-streaked cheeks.

Then she screamed—a raw, primal cry from the deepest part of her.

“DADDY!!!”

The world held its breath.

And then… the sky cracked.

Clouds spiraled unnaturally. Wind howled. The sun dimmed under a sudden pall of swirling green light. Lightning arced across the horizon—green lightning.

From the center of the storm, a figure emerged.

A black cloak whipped in the wind, edged with silver chains. A massive glowing crown floated just above his brow, held in place by raw ectoplasmic power. His white hair streamed behind him like a comet. The air warped with his fury.

And his eyes—normally calm and glowing green—were now blood-red.

Phantom.

No longer just a boy.

Now, the Ghost King.

“LET. GO. OF. MY. DAUGHTER.” His voice was not a shout. It was a command from a being who ruled death itself, echoing through time and space.

The GIW agents who were still conscious dropped their weapons instantly, paralyzed by sheer instinctual dread. One tried to run—only to be caught midair by an invisible hand and slammed into the pavement.

Danny—King Phantom—descended to the rooftop. He didn’t even touch the ground; power thrummed beneath him like a living storm. The League took a cautious step back, not out of fear—but respect.

He knelt beside Dani, rage turning instantly to anguish. “Dani… I’m here.” He gathered her up, cradling her close. Her eyes fluttered open, and a weak smile touched her lips.

“You came…”

“I always will.”

Batman stepped forward. “Who are they?” He gestured to the crumpled agents.

Danny didn’t look up. “Government ghost hunters. Illegal operations. I’ve shut them down before.”

“They attacked a child,” Wonder Woman said grimly. “They’ll answer for it.”

Danny stood, still holding Dani. “Not to you. To me.” A portal yawned open behind him—green and swirling like a rift into another realm.

One of the agents began to beg. “You don’t have jurisdiction here!”

Danny looked back over his shoulder, red eyes gleaming.

“I’m the King of the Infinite Realms. Jurisdiction is what I say it is.”

He stepped through the portal, Dani safe in his arms. The sky rumbled one last time—and then the clouds dispersed.

The rooftop fell quiet.

Green Lantern let out a low whistle. “Well. That was something.”

Superman crossed his arms. “We’ll need to talk to him. If they’re hunting children like her, this isn’t over.”

Batman was already scanning the data from the agents’ suits.

But all of them, for that one moment, stood in the quiet awe of a simple, terrifying truth.

Mess with a ghost girl… and you’ll answer to her father.

The Ghost King.

[trashabilly]

i ordered a copy of codex metallum yesterday (which ive been wanting since it came out in 2021) bc its $12 on amazon rn

so hype for it to get here, i fuckin love compendiums and album art.. and the fact that it's a newer release so it'll cover more than just NWOBHM and old school thrash metal is beyond exciting for me

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC XDP Fic idea: Gamer Boy

Mr. and Mrs. Fenton are well known for turning objects found around the house into ghost-fighting gear. This was partially to save money on materials and partially because the Fentons were geniuses like that.

They had no trouble changing an object's entire purpose. It was awe-inspiring if you didn't live with them and misplaced something.

What happened to the TV remote? It's now a controller for the defense of house security weapons.

What happened to the third chair at the dinner table? It's now the main anchor for the ghost shield at the top of the house.

Where were the forks? Melted down to create the Spector-Glider jetpack, allowing any hunter on the go to fly right after the ecto-foes!

Danny learned to keep everything he wanted to be left alone in his room (Jack and Maddie had a rule not to bother the kids' safe spaces); otherwise, it would somehow become gear. His room was messy, but he knew where everything was and when he placed it there.

They vanished if he didn't.

It was odd to be so well aware of his things, but it was a fact of life he accepted growing up in the Fenton Household, like the food coming back to life. When they came to visit, his friends knew he had a strict rule of leaving everything in his room.

So, really, there was no reason for this mistake to happen. Sadly, he's gotten a bit careless since the whole Phantom thing. This is his downfall. See, it started the day Tucker brought home a cool new mobile gaming console, lending it to Danny after his parents refused to buy it for him due to his grades.

He had been excited to curl up in a ball on his bed and play the mobile version of Doom. No computer needed, connecting to the world wide web and with a ton of new updates- some even inspired by him when he went into the game last time, and some developer saw him- it was everything he wanted to spend his Friday afternoon on.

Then, a new ghost yells about wanting to be the best showgirl this town has ever seen and starts Can-caning into buildings. She was from before Amity Park was even a town or a city. She was a ghost from the late eighteen hundreds who had arrived in what would have been his hometown with the few settlers who had tricked her.

From what Sam discovered, she had been promised a stage, her name on the headliners as the best performer, and riches beyond belief. What she got instead was a bartender job where the men laughed and mocked her dreams. They wanted something pretty to serve their drinks and would not pay her for it.

She was working to be fed and to keep a roof over her head.

She was too poor to leave and had no family willing to lend a hand after her father warned her that if she ran off to chase her dreams, he would cut her off.

Danny could understand why she hated the sight of this place flourishing and booming when in life it had been her cave but he couldn't let her break it all down. The fight with her last hours then days and finally weeks before he was able to put her away in the Zone.

He had been so exhausted that it wasn't until Tucker asked for his console back that he realized he had had it for a whole month and had not gotten past the main menu.

The worst was putting it in the living room drawer on his way out for a fight. That was a week ago. Rushing home, Danny was relieved to find it still in the same place, untouched by his parent's fingers.

He was supposed to return it to Tucker the following morning, and since no one else was home, he could at least leave it on for a few hours. Not bothering to change back into Fenton, Danny floated in the air, eyes dropping but determined to enjoy this game if it killed him.

The second he powered it on, a woman's voice beeped in a familiar chilling tone.

"Ghost detected. Activating FentonTrap."

He tried to drop it, but it had a similar concept to the Fenton Thermos. His hands were stuck to the metal, and thrashing about wasn't doing anything but fling him through the air.

Before he knew it, he was sucked right into the screen. He screamed, but no one was around to listen. Just his luck. The gaming console turned into a ghost bear trap, falling the second he was sucked into.

It landed in Jazz's cardboard box of old things she had set aside to donate. She was moving out for college and felt it was good to give it away to the less fortunate.

Danny panicked inside the gaming console, floating into a box of darkness with nothing but the screen acting like a window to see out into the real world. Unlike when he entered the game, he had no control over his surroundings or the settings.

He waited a few hours, and as soon as Jazz came down from her bedroom the following morning, he tried screaming as loud as he could to get her attention. But she didn't react. Not even when he pushed his ectoplasm into the screen, holding it would do something.

The game was off. Jazz wasn't a gaming type of person, so she felt no need to turn it on when she was opening the box with tape. Danny could do nothing as she loaded it into her car and drove it to a nearby Wayne Foundation donation center. He hoped someone would pick him up and turn on the console so he could get help.

It was the very latest system. Someone had to be tempted.

But no such luck.

He was moved through hands, everyone assuming that this was only donated if it was busted. It didn't help their assumptions that the darn thing randomly beeped and cried out, "Ghost detected!". Danny tried repeatedly to get someone's attention, but he always failed and was moved between centers across the country, watching time move on without him.

Being inside the GhostTrap was a strange pain. He didn't need food or water, but he felt starved. He missed the sun on his skin, the voices of people speaking to him and not around him, and his family.

A family probably losing their minds looking for him. Danny Fenotn had vanished at fifteen years old, and the earth kept turning. He was stuck there, never aging, never moving, and always watching as years passed.

He stayed long enough for the console to become outdated, and people stopped even considering taking him home.

Eventually, Danny was pushed into the retro gaming boxes, sealed up, and moved across the states. He ended up in a pawn shop in a bigger city, placed in a glass case facing up. I was far more interested in him than the community depot the Waynes had him in.

He watched daily as various shady people entered Crime Alley's best pawn shop and traded multiple items for cash. He had stopped trying to get people's attention at this point. A little over a decade of inability to communicate did that to a person.

Danny sat back, watching people from below place cash on the counter items and wonder about them. Sometimes, they would peer down at him, getting close enough to fog up the glass, but never ask for him.

Until one day, a tiny little boy wandered in, clutching a few dollars. He said he got the money, and Hans (the pawn shop owner) didn't ask. He just counted out the bill for the tiny thing and told him what he could buy with it.

Danny was shocked to see those blue eyes sparkle with glee when they landed on his system. The boy was told that it might be busted because Hans was a good man to children, but he happily claimed he had never had a video game before, and a broken one was better than none.

The boy clutched the game tightly to his chest, slipping him into his pocket with great care, and ran home. Not that Danny could see where that home was. All he got was an eyeful of lint and a half-eaten lollipop.

It didn't stop his heart from leaping in his chest as the newfound hope he had long ago given up on bursting into flames along his rib cages. The second the boy was in his home, he washed after his mother yelled at him to bathe and eat, and he powered on Tucker's system after nearly a decade.

At once, Danny's surroundings changed into a bright light, and his powers could finally pass the screen. He rushed at it, feeling himself slipping through the traps as powering on the console seemed to be the same button as "release".

He flies out, throwing his arms wide open and laughing because, finally, after so long, he is free. He spins in circles, bathing in the feeling of air, even if it's a bit stale. He strains his eyes to listen to the city outside after everything has been so muffled, just seeing the real world.

The boy was pressed against the wall, his wide blue eyes staring up at Danny in suppressed fear. He was obviously on the poorer side, with his mattress on the floor and clothes so faded they might as well be white with a bit of color stains, but Danny didn't care.

"You set me free!" He tells the child, floating before him, "Thank you!"

The boy's mouth opens and closes- isn't it odd that he hasn't heard his name so far- before his wide blue eyes widen. "Are you a genie?"

"Hmm?" Danny wants to talk to him properly but is too busy taking everything in. He is feeling the real world again, seeing color, and feeling the walls.

No wonder his old foes kept trying to come back here. The world was a wonderful place to be in.

"You are! Like the one Aladdin found! I know my first wish. I wish my mom was sober."

Danny doesn't know who Aladdin is, but that... is a sad wish. Oddly enough, he does know how to make it come true. He had been studying under FrostBite after realizing he couldn't be an astronaut anymore and had found that his ectoplasm had a side effect of healing humans.

In theory, it should make her sober.

He considers the boy's earnest and hopeful eyes and thinks I do owe him.

"Alright, bring me to your mom. I'm Danny, by the way. Danny Phantom."

"I'm Jason!" Jason cheers, rushing to the door of his small little bedroom and grabbing Danny's hand on the way. He's practically dragging him to a small living room.

There, leaning against the wall, is a woman, her head bobbing side to side, muttering things under her breath and looking like a mess. There was a needle near her leg. This makes Danny grimace, especially with how easily Jason accepts it.

He places his hands on her face- reeling at the feeling of other humans again!- and pushes his ectoplasm into her body, removing anything he can find that shouldn't be there. He's repairing the damages done by the drugs to her body as he does so.

It might not stop her from doing more in the future, but the addiction is gone. She will no longer crave it.

When he pulls his hands off her, Jason lets out a little gasp by his side. Already, his mother looks healthy. Skin no longer shrunken, hair growing back, skin smooth and blemished free, and a rosy tint to her cheeks.

Now she's just a pretty woman nappin' against the wall with her son holding her hand, looking like he just witnessed a miracle.

Danny isn't sure how he can explain that she could just start up again and tear apart everything he fixed. It feels wrong to speak it as the boy snuggles close to her, crying silent little tears.

"I know what I want my next wish to be" Jason whispers. He looks Danny straight in the eyes when he says, "I wish you were my big brother."

And that is sad, too. But it gives him a reason to stick around and ensure she doesn't put this kid through this again. Besides, he's been missing for twelve years and hasn't changed much. He's scared to go back and has nothing to return to.

Danny shifts into his home form, making the little boy gasp again. "Do I pass as your brother?"

"Yes! You look a lot like me!" Jason beams, "Mom will be so excited to meet you!"

Oh,, he will ensure she is. After all, he needed to scare her straight. Maybe he can find a job to help her get Jason all the games he wants in the world.

Danny Fenton went missing all those years ago. The World kept spinning, but now Danny Todd was spinning with it.

[gravegoer]

now that you mentioned pirate!sevika x siren!reader I NEED it omg

just thinking about it is making me go crazy

I hear your call ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ

THANK YOU !! ive been waiting for this one i also have a mermaid one, idk which I'm putting out first but ill link it when it here when it does come out but thank you for the asks! masterlist , part 2

part 3

You lured many crews to their deaths, men followed your alluring voice into the thrashing waves of the ocean. Willingly drowning themselves in the salt.

Once they heard your song, and saw your beautiful face their fate was already sealed. You were cunning and dangerous, not hesitating to go after any ship you saw.

This didn't change when you saw a wrecked ship on the shore of an island. The pirates were obviously disoriented, and fixing their ship to leave.

One tall, strong figure commanded them, voice booming and most definitely angry. When they walked off, you took this as your chance to strike, rising onto the shore, and from between your lips came a song.

The pirates in your vicinity turned their heads to admire you in awe, at that you smirked, beckoning them closer with a finger adorned in jewels.

Unexpectedly, a woman came out from behind the trees, you assumed she was the loud voice you heard earlier. Shit.

A woman being the captain of this crew was the last thing you expected.

She didn't hesitate to pull her gun from the holster and aim it in your direction. The bullet barely missed your side as you jumped away. The sharp sound made you stop your song immediately.

The men, previously in a trance, looked around. Their eyes eventually settled on you. You pushed away from the shore, but before you could swim, heavy hands grabbed you from under the arms.

The woman had managed to seize you in all your shock, and you thrashed and flailed in her strong hold. She pulled you from the water, metal arm clawing into your flesh, most definitely leaving red marks.

You could feel her warm chest against your back. It contrasted the cold that you usually felt on mens bodies when you pulled them overboard into the icy waves.

She held you up for the men to see, "We caught us a pretty one, aye?" A short, stout man spoke.

"She would sell for a lot, y'know."

"Nah, I think I wanna keep her. She's rather stunning."

"Are you serious she tried—"

"Enough."

The womans stern voice was loud enough to quiet the whole crew. You could feel the vibration of her chest when she spoke. It was a deep and gutteral hum.

"I want to be off this island by nightfall."

All the men scurried at her order, returning to their original positions. They spoke amongst themselves and murmured their complaints, now completely disregarding your presence.

She threw you into the sand, and you landed with a thump. You didn't skip a beat before you tried to claw your way back to shore, but were stopped short by her hand grabbing your tail.

"Now, what am I going to do with you." Her voice was surprisingly husky.

You let out a yelp and turned around to face her, holding yourself up on your elbows. You were now met with her smokey grey eyes and dark scarred skin that anyone would recognize.

Sevika.

She was a ruthless leader and led an even more unforgiving crew. Her reign was seemingly endless, ruling the seas for the better half of her life. Men and women that sailed the seas all respected her alike.

You parted your lips to start a song. But before you could even let out one note, she interrupted you, "That shit isn't going to work on me."

You knew that.

It was worth a try though.

She crouched over you, one knee digging into the sand beside you, and her other leg thrown over you, boot awfully close to your tail.

She reached out to your face with a warm hand, but you pulled back, baring your teeth to her in a snarl. Then she palmed your jaw more ferociously, smirking at your actions. She tilted your head from one side to another, eyes following the trail of scales down your neck.

Her lips were parted ever-so-slightly, and you could see the small gap between her teeth, showcased by her thick brown lips.

You had never been interested in humans, especially human men. Their sexual desire outruled any curiousity you had towards them. Men completely ruined the human race for you. In fact, they disgusted you. But you had never been this close to a human woman.

Usually, you targeted pirate ships, so coming across a woman was especially rare. At one point, you started to wonder if they even existed. But your doubts were disproven as the woman on top of you caused your breath to hitch in your throat.

"What are you going to do to me." You hissed.

"Oh, so she does speak," Sevika smirked before getting up and brushing sand off her pant leg, "I could chop you up and serve you to my men.. But that would be a waste. Plus, im not a fan of killing the local wildlife."

She was clearly amused by her joke, but you werent, you glared daggers at her, now crossing her arms as she towered above you. It was a clear display of her power and authority.

" 'M gonna have to keep you in my sight until we leave." She said, more in a teasing way than strict.

"I need water." You shot back at her, slightly grateful that she wasn't going to kill you, but the sun might just kill you itself if you didn't get back to the sea.

"Alright. I'll let you go to the shore. But if you even seem like you're going to swim away, I won't hesitate to shoot," She pulled her gun out of its holster again, flashing it to you as a warning.

At that, you turned to start clawing your way back to the rocks where you orignally resided. But you felt a large arm scoop you up instead. You were basically folded over Sevikas forearm, her hip balancing some of your weight as she walked you to your destination. You couldn't do anything but let your arms dangle over your head, fingertips brushing the ground. (maybe not if your short)

How embarassing.

When she plopped you into the water, you sighed deeply, feeling your gills thank the salt in the sea. The crew was now hidden from your view as the rocks were big enough to fill your vision. Sevika, on the other hand, was sitting atop one, eyeing her men.

You could take this perfect opportunity to swim away, but a part of you knew that she wasn't looking away because she trusted you to stay. She was looking away because she trusted herself to be able to shoot faster than your tail could hit the water.

So you opted to keep your place. You saw her shake her head at what you assumed to be the antics of the crew. Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed a zippo and lit a cigarillo that was now between her fingers.

You rolled your eyes at her, gills retracting when she blew out hot smoke in your direction. You rested your chin on your arms, laying against a smaller rock.

"What? Not a fan of tobacco?" She mused.

"I am not a fan of any human trinkets." Your lip curled in disgust at the smell.

She eyed the sparkly jewerly that hung from your limbs, "Doesn't seem that way to me."

You got defensive, "Enough. I found it myself."

That wasn't a lie. You kept a lot of the treasures you found in mens pockets, jewerly, watches, and compasses.

You didn't exactly fancy small talk, but Sevika insisted that they would be there for several more hours until her ship was fixed. So you would tell her some stories and let her look at your treasures.

The sun started to set on the horizon, and eventually, you were sitting on the rock next to her, her large hand tracing your scales with intrigue. You didn't feel disgusted by her touch or bored with her presence. This feeling was forgin to you, and you wanted to let your guard down.

But you also wanted to wrap your cold fingers around her throat and strangle her until her warm breath left her body. Leaving her there to swim back into the ocean.

You disregarded that and leaned into her touch, watching the sunset. Some kind of ease has settled itself into your bones, knowing that you couldn't control her with song or seduce her with melody.

And maybe you were finding yourself too much in thought, but you might have her wrapped around your finger without help from the sea. And maybe she was allured by your fantastical stories and airy laugh.

Suddenly, your train of thought was interrupted by a scraggly voice, "Aye, cuddling up to the captian?"

You jumped into the water, away from Sevikas side. She grabbed the handle of her gun with wide eyes before stopping when she saw you, unmoving and clinging to a rock.

She wasn't lying when she said she would shoot you at any attempt to flee. But a pang shot through your chest anyway.

She cleared her throat and spoke, "What could you possibly want."

He tilted his head to the now finished ship. "Told ya we could do it, cap."

She sighed, standing up from the rock and sparing you one last glance before walking back to her ship.

I guess this was your queue to leave, but after the day you spent with her, a part of you couldn't leave. She had piqued a feeling that nobody ever had before.

So you watched her speak to her crew from a distance, bobbing in the dark waters. Your lips were curled down in a pouty frown.

She let everyone board before her, patting a heavy hand on the last man's back. Just before she stepped onto the ramp, she caught your gaze. Her eyes widened, and you dipped back under the water, out of sight.

She sighed and started to ascend the ramp to the deck, but not before hearing a splash from beside her. It was you, your fingers grasped at the wood, head balancing just above the ramp. Your torso was completely out of the water, and it dripped from your skin.

Her heart lurched at the sight, and she reached towards you, bending down into the water. You lowered yourself back into the sea as she closed the distance between you now. Her hat barely balanced itself on her head when she stroked a thick finger down your cheek.

You held her hand against your face and closed the gap between your lips completely. Sevikas lips were thick and warm and tasted roughtly of tobacco.

She was so unlike you, but you yearned for her deeply. Her form was rugged and large compared to your swift elegance and shiney scales. But when she pulled away and you looked into her eyes, you didn't seem to care whether she had legs or a tail.

Only that she was yours.

"I'll follow you wherever you go."

can you tell that i love pirates, and this is my favorite trope.. ALSO, tell me why i rewrote this 3 times because tumblr kept deleting it.. and not proof read pls correct me on anything! and reposts + feedback is always appreciated <33 thank you for reading !!

[solxamber]

Could you do adeuce & the overblot gang (separately) trying one of those period cramp simulators like in those videos?

Overblot Gang + Adeuce + Rollo trying period simulators!

part 2 with vice housewardens + Kalim

I found the idea funny and added Rollo for funsies, I hope you don't mind <3

Adeuce

Ace, being the daredevil he is, straps on the period cramp simulator first with a cocky grin. “How bad can it be?” he says, glancing at you like this is no big deal.

The moment you turn it on, though, his face transforms. “W-What the—” he gasps, doubling over like someone just punched him in the gut. “Okay, okay, this is—AHHH, NOPE, TURN IT OFF!” He’s flailing now, hands waving in panic as he tries to yank the device off, hopping around like a fish out of water.

Deuce, meanwhile, watches with wide eyes, realizing it’s his turn next. “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Nah, nah, Deuce, you gotta try it,” Ace wheezes between pained groans. “It’s character building!”

Deuce, ever the trooper, reluctantly puts it on. At first, he’s stoic. “I can handle this. It’s just a simulation—OH MY SEVENS!” He crumples into a chair, gripping his stomach as though his life depends on it, tears actually forming in his eyes. “HOW DO PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THIS?!”

Ace, still recovering on the floor, gives him a thumbs up. “We’re never… talking back to anyone going through this… ever again.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle approaches the simulator with the same seriousness he applies to everything else. “This is for educational purposes,” he declares, strapping it on confidently. “I’ll endure it to better understand—”

The moment it starts, his face turns a deep crimson—not from anger, but from sheer pain. His knees buckle, and he grips the nearest chair for dear life, a strained gasp escaping his lips. “T-This can’t be real,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “This is…an injustice to all rules of nature!”

By level three, he’s gasping for air, holding onto the table as if it’s his only lifeline. “TURN IT OFF! THIS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL!”

You switch it off, and Riddle stands there, disheveled and panting, brushing his hair back. “We shall… never speak of this again,” he declares, with his pride barely intact.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona sits back with a smug grin as you offer him the simulator. “Tch, weaklings. I’ve dealt with worse.” he says, lounging lazily as he straps it on. His confidence is off the charts—until you turn it on.

His ears immediately flatten, his eyes go wide, and his whole body tenses up. “The hell is this?!” he growls, clutching his stomach with one hand while the other grips the couch.

By level two, he’s sweating and lowkey whimpering. “Turn it off, turn it off right now.” His tail is thrashing, and there’s no trace of his former bravado. “Whoever made this… is a sadist.”

When you finally switch it off, he glares at you, still slumped on the couch, breathing heavily. “If you tell anyone about this, herbivore, I swear…”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul, ever the schemer, thinks he’s prepared for anything. “This is merely an experiment,” he says, carefully adjusting his glasses as he straps the simulator on. “I’ll be able to handle it with ease.”

As soon as it starts, though, his confident smirk falters. His back stiffens, and he clutches the arms of his chair, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Th-This is...more than I anticipated,” he gasps, his face pale as he tries to remain composed.

By the time you hit level three, Azul’s glasses are askew, and he’s gripping the edge of his desk like his life depends on it. “MAKE IT STOP! I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING! HALF-PRICE AT MONSTRO LOUNGE, JUST TURN IT OFF!”

Jamil Viper

Jamil raises an eyebrow at the challenge but doesn’t say no. “This is nothing,” he mumbles, strapping the device on like it’s a task on his daily to-do list. You turn it on, and for a few seconds, he seems unfazed. His poker face is strong.

But as the intensity increases, you see his eye twitch. Then, he’s hunched over, muttering a stream of complaints under his breath, his face contorted in a rare expression of suffering. “This… this is inhuman,” he grits out, shaking his head. “I could’ve been cooking, cleaning, or literally anything else.”

At level four, he’s pressing a hand against his stomach, sweating bullets. “How do people get anything done like this? Who’s responsible for this?!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil, in true Vil fashion, approaches the whole thing with poise. “I can handle this,” he says, strapping the simulator on like it’s a designer belt. “How painful could it really—”

The second the simulator starts, his perfect posture falters, and he sits down immediately, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh. My. Sevens. This is—”

By level three, he’s doubled over, one hand gripping his stomach and the other clutching his chest dramatically. “This is unbearable! This pain would ruin anyone’s complexion!”

His voice is full of horror as he waves a trembling hand. “Turn it off before it does permanent damage!”

Idia Shroud

Idia’s hair is already flickering with anxiety the moment you suggest he try the simulator. “Y-You’re joking, right? No way!” But you convince him, and he reluctantly straps it on “I’m going to die, I just know it.”

When you turn it on, his reaction is immediate. His hair flares bright neon pink, and he lets out the most dramatic yelp you’ve ever heard. “OH NO, THIS IS IT! THIS IS HOW I GO!” He’s rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach like he’s in the final boss battle of his life.

By level four, he’s practically pleading. “I surrender! I’m done! Game over! JUST TURN IT OFF!” His hair is flashing so brightly it could power a small city.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus approaches the simulator with a curious expression. “A device that mimics pain? Fascinating.” He straps it on with a regal air, as if this is just another strange mortal custom he’s willing to experience.

The moment it starts, though, he pauses. His eyes widen slightly, and he places a hand over his stomach. “This… is quite intense,” he admits, his voice calm but strained.

As the levels increase, his stoic expression falters, and he’s soon gripping the edge of the nearest surface. “Is this…what humans endure regularly?” he asks in disbelief. By the time it reaches full strength, he’s staring at you in awe. “You must be incredibly strong to endure this.”

The storm outside, coincidentally, seems to match his inner turmoil.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo looks at the period cramp simulator with his usual air of disdain. "I fail to see the point of this exercise," he says, folding his arms. But with a raised eyebrow from you, he sighs and reluctantly agrees. “Fine. If only to demonstrate that I can endure whatever nonsense you find amusing.”

He straps it on, looking every bit like he’s about to endure a great trial of fortitude. "Proceed," he says, as if commanding an army.

At level one, Rollo barely flinches. He keeps his usual stoic expression. "Is that all?" he asks, voice flat. But as you increase the intensity, his composure begins to crack. By level three, he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His jaw tightens, but he's still maintaining his dignity—barely.

"Interesting... sensation," he mutters between clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice steady.

By level four, the calm façade is gone. Rollo’s knuckles are white from gripping the arms of the chair, and his expression is a mix of panic and fury. "This... device is an affront to decency!" he hisses, his face reddening. "Surely no one can focus through such—"

You take it up one more notch.

"TURN IT OFF THIS INSTANT!" Rollo practically yells, his voice cracking as he doubles over, utterly betrayed by his own pride. His normally regal posture is completely gone, replaced by a man clinging to survival.

When you finally switch off the simulator, he’s left panting and disheveled, glaring at you like you’ve committed a personal offense. "That... was barbaric," he wheezes, trying to regain his composure. “I’ll never question your complaints again. That was… inhumane.” He straightens his robes and avoids eye contact, the flush in his cheeks refusing to fade.

"Honestly," he mutters, still flustered, "what vile invention is this world coming to?"

Masterlist