#son of the blood-red doom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cillivnz · 1 year

Text

MISS A SPOT, HIT THE SPOT [lord dimitrescu]

pairing. LORD DIMITRESCU x MAID!READER (dub!con turned consensual)

initial, DIMITRESCU SONS x READER (very dubious consent)

word count. 3072

warnings. AFAB!reader, cursing, misogynistic themes, animal cruelty (using gator-skin on furniture; don’t call PETA on me, i’m sorry), groping, a little bit of exhibitionism, dub!con, fingering, reader is pinned against the wall, reader’s family has been serving the Dimitrescus, large age-gap, oral sex (both receiving), throat-fucking, tongue-fucking, clit play, pyromania, dacryphilia, extreme degradation, belittling, spitting, penetrative sex (p! in v!), squirting, multiple & forced orgasms, extreme breast/nipple play, reader’s just being used by the family, reader is called maid as well as a pet name in Romanian, unprotected sex, creampie.

listening to. ‘Enslaved’ by Diva Destruction

notes. Y/L — Your Last Name, Y/F/N — Your Father’s Name, căprița mea mică — my little doe

A regular day in an abysmal castle.

Your ancestry were sworn servants of the Dimitrescu royals, and ensuing your father’s demise after leading a devoted life to the Lord, it was your turn.

You managed to avoid his acknowledge, as well as his sons’; something you thanked your stars for. You were still at a tender age; early twenties yet unexposed to the worldly works, courtesy of your conservative father. You loved the old man, despite him giving you constant reminders that your birth doomed him— how you should’ve been a son to continue his legacy, not a fragile, worthless woman. But those words only came out of his mouth like venom when he was made to overwork or worse— punished.

And like any other day you were dusting the halls. Except it wasn’t every other day you felt your skirt lift up fervently by two strong hands who also pinned you against the wall. An heir. Another, holding you down, while one tugged at your blouse. Alas, the Dimitrescu boys had found you.

“Well, well, the silhouette comes to life.” The one pining you spoke. He had a raspy voice with some baritone to it. “Sire, please leave me be—” you beseeched, but before you could even beg, you choked on your own words as your thong was pushed to the side. “She wants to leave, yet you roam about our land dressed like a whore.” This erupted demonic laughter from all three. “You thought we ought not to catch on?” The one below spoke, his face so close to your cunt, you felt heat radiate off of him with every syllable he dragged. “Your scent lingers— hauntingly— how we’ve chased after your ghost.” “But you were always too fast, little doe.”

“Always teasing us — where were you hiding this beauty? Hm?” One teased, his stone cold lips grazing your bare shoulder. “Moreover where had you been hiding this ass of yours?”

You jolted when a harsh slap landed on your ass, your not-so-subtle moan eliciting evil laughter from the men harassing you.

The one gripping your ass began to spread it, you writhed like a worm in their vice-like embrace, begging and praying for the abuse to be over; in a way it was.

The minute you felt something stroke your folds, prodding at your entrance, a demonic thunder struck. “What do you have here, boys?” They froze, as did you. This is the most cooperation you four have shown, as if unsaid, yet understood that if you hold your breath and close your eyes, the Lord can’t hurt you.

But slowly, as if puppies caught creating chaos by their master, did the boys move away from you. Bright yellow eyes ablaze in the monotonous dark of his castle. His eyes darted from your glassy eyes staring at him, the fear in them, to your rosy cheeks, blood-red lips, and straight to your skirt; your ass was out since a Dimitrescu brother hiked it up, the same heir, on realising what his father’s hungry eyes were doting upon, made a feeble attempt to fix your skirt, but before his fingers, barely tainted with your slick wetness, could touch the fabric of your skirt, let alone fix it, his father ordered. “Don’t you dare lay hands on her, more than you have already.” The Lord spoke with utmost calmness, and that’s what terrified the four of you, you especially, the most.

Reluctantly but obediently they stepped away from you. You were still clinging to the wall, frozen in place. “Come on over,” You saw his gloved hand motion towards him, “My chambers need cleaning.” An ominously mischievous tone and provocative smirk tugged at his lips.

The walk to the Lord’s chambers was awkward and fearful. He had insisted you walked in front of him, and you could feel eyes ripping through your flesh, your predator ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

You were making feeble steps towards his chambers, almost there, when he interrupted you, “Halt,” he said, causing you to stop dead in your tracks, but you dare not look back at him. “Clean my study firstly.” He ordered, and waited by the door for you to turn around.

Once you turned, you were met by calculating amber eyes that peered down at you from a head held high. He stood by the doorframe, and on seeing you make weak, yet progressive steps towards him, his thunderous strides entered the chamber. He was seated on a leather chair by the time you entered, as if he’d been there the entire time. ‘Gator skin,’ you heard a rumour the one time you cleaned the Lord’s study before. ‘He tore it apart with his bare hands, and had it skinned into a chair as a trophy.’ You hadn’t believed the chamberlain until you’d seen it yourself.

On the left of it was an ablaze fireplace, and in front, was a library; not colossal, yet extreme in number. Books of alchemy, instructional journals of God summonings, documentations on every supernatural creature that roamed the planet and how to kill them; even the Satanic Bible was on display.

“Do you fancy reading?” You almost jumped when his ravenous voice broke the eerie silence you were just growing accustomed to. “Yes, my Lord.” You seemed to pique his interest when he hummed after a short pause, surprised within yourself at the sudden confidence. It was clear, you preferred the father’s company to his sons’. Perhaps, you felt safe knowing he is the leash on his sons— the fear of your fears.

“Well, if your cleaning is satisfactory, perhaps… I’ll let you take some.” the Lord proposed, but somehow you knew this reward wasn’t for cleaning but something else he wanted to deem satisfactory.

You dare not utter another word and got to cleaning.

Dusting away, between books, underneath books; wiping away at the large mirror by the shelves. “What do they call you?” He asked with authority.

“Y/N Y/L, my Lord,” you hesitantly revealed. “Y/L!” He exclaimed, “You’re Y/F/N Y/L’s daughter,” he concluded in a wicked tone. With each wipe, he grew closer and closer and the horrid smile on his face grew wider and more sinister, forcing you to look back at him at a neck-snapping speed, only to catch him, still seated, gazing at you innocently.

“Mop the floors,” he requested, before adding “Maid.” As if asking your revelation of your identity fell on deaf ears that never demanded it. Without muttering, you dampen the mop and began cleaning.

This was just cruel.

You thought your saviour actually required your services, yet the man had you in the same position as his sons, except voluntarily, for you had to bend on all fours and stretch not to miss a spot, after all you were cleaning your master’s land, at his request. ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ you sighed, only daring to think of it.

You heard fervent movement behind you, and the next thing you feel is your thong being pulled down till your ankles. It happened all too fast, you barely registered anything until his large hands spread you open to him. “They were right about you,” He spoke, intrigued, “Such exemplary beauty, căprița mea mică. Utterly pristine.”

Noticing your haltered movements, he quirked a brow. “Did I permit you to stop?” You choked a gasp, feeling his left hand trace your curves, making its way to squeeze your throat, while his right hand fiddled with your glistening folds. “No sir,” you breathed a sigh at the pleasure he was making you feel. “Fucking continue then.” He ordered and you did.

Maybe not a regular day in an abysmal castle. Your 9’6 Lord and Master, the fearsome and notorious, the head of the dreaded Dimitrescu family, Lord Dimitrescu himself, kneeling behind you while you wipe his floors, fingers stroking your lips, not yet penetrating, just— “Oh!” You moaned when a long, thick, wet something slithered about your pussy. Prodding at the places his very fingers grazed, now wiggling inside you.

You began panting, about to look back and begin your pleads when a strong hand grabbed your skull and forced it in place.

You were terrified; just a bit more coaxing and he could crack open your skull. You were less than half his size and half his age. What was more frightening to you was that it was just the tip of his tongue inside you. Your eyes rolled back and damn-near saw your brain as he began pushing more of it in.

Still, obediently, you wiped.

This pleased the Lord as he wrapped an arm over your waist to your legs and brought his thumb to your clit. The circular motions of figure-eights on your clit were frantic, causing an excruciating jolt of pleasure to run down your lower half, his anomaly of a tongue amplifying the feel.

You bit you lip, nearly drawing blood as the knot in your core grew unbearable. Feeling you clench around his tongue, Lord Dimitrescu replaced the oral attack with two of his fingers, stretching you so bittersweetly. The assault on your cunt was aching. He’d graze your g-spot oh-so-softly, slowly driving you to the edge yet deliberately prolonging the high tide. “You are making a mess, căprița mea mică,” he sighed, eyeing the slick dripping down your thighs, drenching you in all, and the wooden floor beneath you. “Allow me to help.” It was more imperative than offering, so it was but natural you grimaced in pain when he pulled out his fingers, moments before you were coming undone, only to spread your aching hole and spit into it.

You moaned; shamelessly, you let out a filthy, degraded moan, and the sound travelled straight to the Lord’s cock. “There, there,” he rubbed his spit on your folds, your swollen clit bathed in it, “All better — nice and clean.” He chuckled, causing goosebumps to arise on your spine and your breath to get caught in your throat when he shoved not two but three fingers smoothly into your weeping cunt.

You clenched at the sudden attack, bewildered at how easily you were being made to cum for your master yet again. He rose from his position to whisper in your ear, “Hits the spot, doesn’t it?” At that moment, he had you unravelling with a curl on his fingers inside you.

You screaming a string of curses, the Lord greatly amused by your sailor’s tongue.

He stood up, without a word or move. “Clean the mess you made.” He gestured down at your juices that he flowed out of your cunt. “And while you’re down there…” He unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock that sprang free, a demonic thing, it was; certainly, not pleasurable to accommodate inside, unless…

“Don’t be afraid, maid.” His baritone voice gave you absurd comfort, the tone, reassuring.

“It can’t hurt you, unless I want it to.” His pearly whites were like the fangs of a serpent, peering out, bloodthirsty for you. You wavered off the uneasiness, still eager to please your master. Grabbing his colossal cock, you began to work out the large vein on the underside of it. He hissed when you applied pressure, using both your hands in an attempt to hold it; in vain it went. You licked the tip, before slowly taking it in your mouth.

“That’s it. Show me you’re an all-rounder, maid; not just for wiping floors, show me that’s not all you can do bent over.” He chuckled, something so sinister about how his own vulgarity was so amusing to him. However, you weren’t opposed to it. After all, orders were orders; that’s one thing your father did teach you, if ordered directly, orders are orders, even if they’re fatal.

You gagged on less-than half the length, but your quick save by jacking off the inches unabsorbed by your mouth was much appreciated by the man above you. His large palm resting atop your head, slowly caressing your messed up hair into place. The gesture nearly knocked the air out of you, for when your perplexed eyes met his expectedly ravenous ones, you were shocked to see them replaced by fondness.

“You take it like it was made for you.” He cooed. You couldn’t help but put your guard down, making it unknowingly advantageous to the Lord who grabbed the same head he was caressing, as support to fuck your throat. He only chuckled at the stream of years flowing through your glassy eyes. Your flushed face tainted with tears was now red with lack of oxygen. His cock was slamming past your uvula; the bell tolls, as if he were morally obligated to.

“So young, yet you suck cock like you’ve been a whore all your life.” He chuckled to himself, before thrusting in deeply, and cumming inside your mouth. You swallowed his ichor without being told, when you stuck out your tongue to show him, he groaned, face contorted in some form of arousal, as he lifted your frame to his, kissing you with neediness. His lips were surprisingly tender, beard teasing your face while his tongue, one that swept your insides clean, forced entry into your mouth, which you hesitantly permitted.

“Dust by the fireplace, better get to it.” He said, pulling away from you. You grabbed the supplies and moved towards the said place. You hadn’t noticed when the flames became blazing, a conflagration, either way, you dipped the mop in the bucket beside you, and began wiping.

You couldn’t get much done, however, for from underneath your skirt, you felt something big prod your entrance. Rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, Lord Dimitrescu positioned himself behind you, before shoving the whole of it in. You screamed, damage was made to your vocal chords as well as your walls when the penetration quickly turned into pummelling, giving you zero time to adjust to the mammoth size of it.

Dumbfounded, cock-drunk, utterly paralysed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless attack your pussy had to endure. “My…-my Lord!” You moaned, trying to form an actual sentence, “This is highly inap…-inappropriate!” You managed to muster. “Really now?” He questioned, you don’t know if it was a scoff or a laugh following his amused tone. “Who,” he paused, pushing you forward. You were now a stone’s throw away from the fire, every thrust into you pulled you back, which, despite the burn of the stretch, made you grateful for you were pulled back from the fireplace. “Do you think,” he continued, thrusting into you harder each time; the heat of the fire threatening to melt you whole, grazing your face, delicately. “You are.” He finished, slamming into you so hard, you began to cum, but before you could unravel before him, he pulled out, causing your pussy to spasm around the eerie nothingness of the room.

You were reduced to a whining mess, no words coming out of your abused mouth. “What’s the matter, maid? You want to cum?” he questioned, gripping your curvy hips. “Even when you’ve missed a spot?” One of his arms snaked on your waist, the other roamed about your spine, laying you down, before pulling your head up by your hair.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” he groaned, cock pressing against your slit, it’s new home, yet not in. He grabbed the bucket of freshwater besides you, pouring it all on the floor. “Let’s get that spot, shall we?” He said, before doing something so degrading, you felt disgusted in your own skin for enjoying.

Your hot body was used to wipe the floors of Lord Dimitrescu’s study. Ripping your blouse into shreds, he groped your breasts that had sprang free, before positioning your chest on the wet floor, and swaying you left to right.

This man, your ancestry’s master, was balls deep inside your abused pussy, fucking away the life in you, while using your tits as a mop. You moaned as your burning skin made contact with the icy puddle. “That’s how you wipe, căprița mea mică, so much better.” He grunted, the pace, the size, the girth, the sheer brutality of his sex was like a punch to the gut, nonetheless your poor cunt made feeble attempts to get accustomed to the ongoing torture. Your cunt clenched around his cock while your breasts swayed from side to side, the carpet had soupçons of water, courtesy of the fervency with which you “wiped”, which it soaked up instantly.

“My Lord, I’m going to- oh!” You yelped when he pulled out, shoving his fingers inside you and curling them. You hadn’t anticipated this, body reacting on sheer adrenaline junk that’s been coaxed out of you since the incident with this man’s sons in the halls of his castle.

Then, as fate would have it, mocking your misery, you squirted all over the floor. The juices gushing out your cunt, drowning the man that coaxed them out. He giggled, like a fucking teenager, while you fought for consciousness. Sure, you’d had sex before, he was a chef in this very place who mysteriously disappeared, but a man Lord Dimitrescu’s size? You had never held your head high around the family, avoiding their gaze like a thief, and now he’s fucking you like a stinging reminder of why you should’ve stayed in the shadows— remained a silhouette.

You were sore from the previous two orgasms, yet the man made it look easy to coax your third. The hostility your cunt displaying, clenching around the wanted, yet unmanageable penetration, was enough to unravel Lord Dimitrescu, you following with pornographic screams.

His grip on your hip and scalp was tormenting, but it soon loosened when he pumped into you one last time, pussy milked dry, filled with his overflowing load. He exhaled sharply, pulling up your panties, tapping your ass lightly. “You have been amazing — definitely considering promoting you.” He seemed very proud of his joke. Leaning down to catch your ear where you’d nearly passed out on the ground, he whispered in your ear. “Now, clean up.”

He left a moment after, stopping at the doorway to catch a glimpse of your sexy, worn out body. “My room’s next.” He said, leaving you alone with a shit load of mess to clean.

Your mess.

main masterlist. more from “resident evil: village”.

#lord dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu genderbent #lady dimitrescu #genderbent #lord dimitrescu smut #lord dimitrescu x reader #lord dimitrescu x reader smut #size difference #resident evil #resident evil village #dimitrescu #monster smut #vampire smut #lord dimitrescu sons #dimitrescu family #resident evil dimitrescu #maid dress #slutty maid

1K notes · View notes

0-kbelle-0 · 1 month

Text

KC: "What should I do? If I revive them...They slaughter innocents, grow bored until nothing is enough, a slave to hunger and insicts.."

KC: But if I can access their code. If I can edit it, free them of the hunger. I can guide them, uniterfered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KC stared at the red box in his hand, a parting gift from Sun. He had been quite shocked when the yellow celestial bot had handed it to him, he knew his son had taunted and tormented the daycare attendant, and yet even knowing the chance he'd betaking, chose to give any left over reminents from the blast to him, their father.

His thumb brushed over the lid to the box, contemplating the outcome of whatever he chose to do from here. On one hand, he felt like his child was doomed to fail from the start, constantly instigating conflicts with others, either uncaring, or unassuming the concequences, the other he believed their time was cut short, surely their had to be a chance they could do better, be better much like himself, the otherside to that however, was them continuing their spree of violence and bloodshed. Lastly, he felt he failed them, all his children. Perhaps if he had done better, did better, their fates could have been avoided, mayhaps Eclipse would have been better too. He may not have a chance with the Solar son currently, but here, he could finally be the father he should have been.

He chose what to do, he'd revive them, Sun had given him enough nanomachines to work with, he had traces of their code, he can do better, surely they'll think clearer without a constant need for blood..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wow, finally added another comic page pfft

First page here Next page here

#tsams au #sun and moon show au #tsams bloodmoon #sams bloodmoon #tsams killcode #sams killcode #vigilante au

185 notes · View notes

otterlis · 2 months

Text

♡ the proudest moment for me is telling others that you are my son ♡

♡ papamin!au my beloved

♡ genre: pure fluff

♡ lenght: ~0,6K

Kento didn't really plan to take a nap.

He was sitting in front of the TV, Yuuji curled up against his side as they watched Gravity Falls - well, Yuuji watched it. It was their afternoon tradition. They came back home, did the homework, watched some TV before they got hungry and then they cooked dinner together.

Today wasn’t much different, but after a tiring day at work Kento was absolutely exhausted. Too many pointless meetings and dumb arguments with his coworkers resulted in a throbbing headache and red, tired eyes. Relaxing against the soft pillows, Kento thought it wouldn’t hurt to close his eyes for a moment and rest. He wouldn’t fall asleep, right? Naps weren’t really his thing.

Then, as soon as the first episode of the show started, he just straight up passed out.

To him, it felt like a few seconds. A longer blink, if you will. That’s why he was so confused when he shifted and suddenly he couldn’t feel Yuuji’s tiny body pressed against his side. His eyes shot open and he sat straight up as the panic settled in.

‘Yuuji?’, he called out, looking around the room. It was already dark and he could barely make out anything. As he turned around on the couch, Kento noticed soft light pouring out through the kitchen door, accompanied by a few soft grunts of annoyance. He quickly made his way over, stopping in his tracks as soon as he saw the scene before him.

Yuuji was standing on top of the kitchen chair, Kento’s big apron hanging around his tiny body, the straps tangled around his legs. His face was concentrated, the tip of his tongue sticking out, as he tried hard to slice the cucumber that stubbornly rolled away from him with every attempt.

At least he’s using the child-friendly knife, Kento thought with relief. He quietly stepped inside of the kitchen, trying not to startle the boy.

‘What are you doing, Yuuji?’, he asked.

‘Oh, Nanamin!’, Yuuji exclaimed happily, almost falling off the chair as he tried to turn around with the apron tangled between his legs. Luckily, Kento had quick reflexes. This wasn’t the first time this happened, either. ‘I’m making us dinner!’

‘Hm?’, Kento hummed, looking away from the boy he held in his arms and back at the counter. Indeed, there were two plates prepared - there was a ham sandwich, a cheese stick and a few cherry tomatoes on both of them, but coincidentally the one on the right had also a few candies hidden behind the food.

‘I wanted some cucumber too, but it kept rolling away!’, Yuuji added, crossing his arms with frustration. Kento couldn’t help but smile, a warm, cozy feeling spreading across his chest.

‘You did great’, he praised the boy, setting him back up on the chair. He grabbed the rowdy cucumber and set it back on the cutting board, his other hand wrapping around Yuuji's wrist to guide his movements and cut up the vegetable. They boy cheered as they finally defeated the green stick of doom and placed a few slices on each of the plates.

‘Let’s go eat in the living room!’, Yuuji exclaimed, climbing down the chair and slipping out of the apron. He grabbed his plate and quickly run out of the kitchen, trying to cover up the sweets with his tiny hand. Kento chuckled as he picked up his own dinner, turning off the light and following the boy with a smile still etched on his face.

Sure. This one time Kento could pretend he didn’t see any candies on Yuuji’s plate.

It is not flesh and blood, but the heart which makes us fathers and sons — Johann Freidrich von Schiller

ellis jjk fanfic debut?????

inspired by a lovely prompt by @dahldahlbills ♡

#jjk #jjk fanfic #papamin #papamin au #nanami kento #itadori yuuji #jjk fluff #ellis writes #it's short and silly but I wanted to share it anyway 🥰

169 notes · View notes

drakaripykiros130ac · 3 months

Text

“The Greens are political masterminds compared to the Blacks.”

How many times have you heard this bullshit?

Their political incompetence is exactly what cost the Greens their victory in this war, and what gained Otto Hightower the gold medal in the “worst Hand in the history of Westeros” Olympics. And if you ask me, Criston Cole should have the silver for that one.

So, we’re talking about a faction who has been plotting to usurp the rightful heir, Rhaenyra Targaryen, for many, many years. They had so much time to prepare, and so many advantages: Alicent being queen and Otto being Hand, not to mention Rhaenyra and Daemon were away on Dragonstone for many years.

The Hightowers could have swayed things in their favor before Viserys’ death, and failed. They had to shuffle about, beg the Tyrells, send Aemond to Storm’s End with marriage promises etc. all after Viserys died. Lol. What have they done during those 10 years Rhaenyra was away on Dragonstone? They sat on their asses and did nothing. Not even prepare their puppet, Aegon Hightower.

Now, let’s list the Greens’ many, many mistakes:

1. Usurping the throne, instead of minding their own business and returning to Oldtown. Alicent doomed her entire line (children and grandchildren) with her schemes and thirst for power.

2. Not having Aemond and Daeron married by the time of the Dance. Boy, they really blew it with this one. Aemond was 20 when the Dance started and Daeron was 16. They could have been well married by the time Viserys died, and the Hightowers could have secured great alliances in time.

Rhaenyra’s sons were much younger than Alicent’s, and yet years before the Dance, she had Jacaerys and Lucerys betrothed to Baela and Rhaena, securing the Velaryons (a great power House) on her side for good. And certain people still have the nerve to say she did nothing.

Not having Aemond and Daeron married by the time of Viserys’ death, was a missed opportunity, which proves Otto and Alicent’s stupidity. They had the power, and Viserys was easily swayed, and they still screwed up big time.

3. Failing to get the support of their own liege lords, the Tyrells.

4. Failing to get the support of the Red Kraken and by extension, the Iron Islands. I mean, so few people realize that Daemon was the politically savvy one, knowing how to turn the Red Kraken against the Greens by appealing to his thirst for bloodshed. The Greens offered him the position of Master of Ships and he refused them, in exchange for a chance to stick it to the Lannisters. So basically, Daemon offered the Red Kraken nothing, compared to the Greens, and still managed to sway him to his side. That must have been so embarrassing for the Greens 😂.

5. Killing Lucerys. *claps* Well, done, Aemond One-Eye idiot. Before this, Rhaenyra was still determined to make peace with her half-brothers and half-sister, despite the usurpation, but not after they shed first blood and murdered her son. Hell no. Even Alicent and Otto were angry with Aemond for this one, because they knew how badly they screwed up.

The problem is that both Otto and Alicent lacked the intelligence to keep a bloodthirsty, idiotic maniac like Aemond in line. Not to mention that the one on their team holding their only ace-card, Vhagar, was this bloodthirsty, idiotic maniac.

6. Aegon Hightower choosing Criston Cole as his Hand. 😶 When I first read this part in the book, I was shocked. Definitely did not see that coming. Dismissing Otto as Hand (for the second time), I understand, considering that he really exudes incompetence. But what exactly went through the usurper’s puny brain when naming Cole as his Hand is beyond me. He is a military man. He is no political mastermind. Far from it. He is dumb as wood. He spent his entire career life kissing Alicent’s behind and only rising in ranking because of his hatred for Rhaenyra (because a young girl of 14 refused his advances).

There is a reason why Rhaenyra chose Corlys as her Hand, and not Daemon (like everyone expected her to).

Criston Cole led his forces in the Riverlands and got himself killed when facing the Winter Wolves. He didn’t even use his position as Hand. He just wore the pin.

Seriously, this has to be one of their dumbest moves. If I were in this usurper’s position, I would have chosen Tyland Lannister as my Hand, certainly not the overly subjective and creepy Incel who kisses my mother’s behind for a job.

7. Burning the Riverlands…for no good reason. *claps* Once again, let’s applaud Aemond’s idiocy. Basically, he decided to burn the Riverlands because their lords sided with Rhaenyra. That’s it.

Because of his stupidity, he basically secured the entire Riverlands on the side of the Blacks even after Rhaenyra’s death. The Riverlords fought for Rhaenyra’s son instead of agreeing to make peace with the Greens.

8. Choosing the Triarchy as an ally. What exactly made them think that they would gain any points by allying themselves with a great enemy of the people of Westeros? These are foreign savages that Daemon and Corlys have been fighting for years, and the Greens got in bed with them. Bringing an army of dangerous foreigners in a civil war is high treason against the Realm.

9. Burning Bitterbridge. The Reach was the Hightowers’ home, and not only did they fail to gain the support of the Paramount House there, but they also turned many of their bannermen against them. Well done. *sarcasm*

10. This one is one of my favorites: trusting the Goldcloaks. Otto Hightower knew perfectly well that the Goldcloaks were Daemon’s men, and despite making some changes and putting his son, Gwayne, as second in command, Otto still managed to get played and the Goldcloaks turned on the Greens when Daemon arrived in the capital.

The smart thing to do would have been to disband the Goldcloaks when the usurpation happened. The decision to keep them lost the Greens the capital.

11. Proposing to call a Great Council only when realizing that they were losing. So, once Rhaenyra took the capital, only then, did Alicent propose to call a Great Council. Why couldn’t she suggest that before usurping the throne? Alicent’s stupidity got her the nickname “Queen of Chains”.

12. Trusting the Dragonseeds who betrayed Rhaenyra. Seriously…how stupid could they be? Don’t they know that people who betray once have a tendency to do it again??? The Two Betrayers wasted no time and turned on the Greens soon after because they wanted the throne for themselves.

13. Trusting Larys Strong. This creep got his own family killed for the sake of power. He has no morals and is just like Littlefinger. Once he realized that the Greens were losing, Larys turned on them and most likely participated in poisoning Aegon the Usurper.

14. Refusing to name Aegon the Younger heir and sue for peace with the Black armies after Rhaenyra’s death. This basically guaranteed the Greens’ permanent defeat.

15. Trying to convince her eight year old granddaughter to kill her husband lost Alicent any freedom rights after she lost the war, and she spent the rest of her life in isolation and madness.

So, seriously, people who say that Otto and Alicent are politically intelligent need to get a clue and read the book.

227 notes · View notes

nightswatchdisbandmentera · 27 days

Text

Prince Rhaegar as a character often gets some deserved criticism - and a lot of underserved hate. And one of the things that I think he unfairly gets blamed for is Elia Martell's tragedy. Elia's death is one of the primary objections people have towards Rhaegar and Lyanna being depicted as a romance, with readers believing that if they were just tragic lovers, then that diminishes Elia's own tragedy.

I...disagree. It is understandable (and honestly right) that readers would rally behind Elia. Not only was she horribly brutalized and murdered, but her children suffered absolutely terrible fates as well.

However, in trying to center Rhaegar and Lyanna's doomed dalliance in this, a lot of readers are missing the answer that has been already provided to us within the narrative. Not only that, but this line of thinking also ignores the key context in which Elia's senseless murder is portrayed.

As far as the text goes, Elia’s death is laid squarely at the feet of Tywin Lannister and his men, Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch. It's House Lannister's burden to bear.

Doran for one, Elia's brother, directly blames Tywin Lannister:

“You mistake patience for forbearance. I have worked at the downfall of Tywin Lannister since the day they told me of Elia and her children.”

The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

Even Oberyn agrees:

“Dwarf,” said the Red Viper, in a tone grown markedly less cordial, “spare me your Lannister lies. Is it sheep you take us for, or fools? My brother is not a bloodthirsty man, but neither has he been asleep for sixteen years. Jon Arryn came to Sunspear the year after Robert took the throne, and you can be sure that he was questioned closely. Him, and a hundred more. I did not come for some mummer’s show of an inquiry. I came for justice for Elia and her children, and I will have it. Starting with this lummox Gregor Clegane … but not, I think, ending there. Before he dies, the Enormity That Rides will tell me whence came his orders, please assure your lord father of that.” He smiled. “An old septon once claimed I was living proof of the goodness of the gods. Do you know why that is, Imp?”

Tyrion IV, ASOS

“Is that the game we are playing?” Tyrion rubbed at his scarred nose. He had nothing to lose by telling Oberyn the truth. “There was a bear at Harrenhal, and it did kill Ser Amory Lorch.” “How sad for him,” said the Red Viper. “And for you. Do all noseless men lie so badly, I wonder?” “I am not lying. Ser Amory dragged Princess Rhaenys out from under her father’s bed and stabbed her to death. He had some men-at-arms with him, but I do not know their names.” He leaned forward. “It was Ser Gregor Clegane who smashed Prince Aegon’s head against a wall and raped your sister Elia with his blood and brains still on his hands.” “What is this, now? Truth, from a Lannister?” Oberyn smiled coldly. “Your father gave the commands, yes?” “No.” He spoke the lie without hesitation, and never stopped to ask himself why he should. The Dornishman raised one thin black eyebrow. “Such a dutiful son. And such a very feeble lie. It was Lord Tywin who presented my sister’s children to King Robert all wrapped up in crimson Lannister cloaks.”

Tyrion IX, ASOS

“Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne,” the Red Viper hissed. “You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children…“I came to hear you confess.”

Tyrion X, ASOS

Varys and Tyrion both understand that House Martell (but more specifically Doran) hates the Lannisters.

“The Dornishmen thus far have held aloof from these wars. Doran Martell has called his banners, but no more. His hatred for House Lannister is well known, and it is commonly thought he will join Lord Renly. You wish to dissuade him.” “All this is obvious,” said Tyrion. “The only puzzle is what you might have offered for his allegiance. The prince is a sentimental man, and he still mourns his sister Elia and her sweet babe.” “My father once told me that a lord never lets sentiment get in the way of ambition … and it happens we have an empty seat on the small council, now that Lord Janos has taken the black.” “A council seat is not to be despised,” Varys admitted, “yet will it be enough to make a proud man forget his sister’s murder?” “Why forget?” Tyrion smiled. “I’ve promised to deliver his sister’s killers, alive or dead, as he prefers. After the war is done, to be sure.” Varys gave him a shrewd look. “My little birds tell me that Princess Elia cried a … certain name … when they came for her.” “Is a secret still a secret if everyone knows it?” In Casterly Rock, it was common knowledge that Gregor Clegane had killed Elia and her babe. They said he had raped the princess with her son’s blood and brains still on his hands. “This secret is your lord father’s sworn man.” “My father would be the first to tell you that fifty thousand Dornishmen are worth one rabid dog.” Varys stroked a powdered cheek. “And if Prince Doran demands the blood of the lord who gave the command as well as the knight who did the deed …” “Robert Baratheon led the rebellion. All commands came from him, in the end.” “Robert was not at King’s Landing.” “Neither was Doran Martell.”

Tyrion IV, ACOK

Really, all the nobles know where to look at when assigning blame for Elia's murder. Tywin.

“Prince Doran comes at my son’s invitation,” Lord Tywin said calmly, “not only to join in our celebration, but to claim his seat on this council, and the justice Robert denied him for the murder of his sister Elia and her children.” Tyrion watched the faces of the Lords Tyrell, Redwyne, and Rowan, wondering if any of the three would be bold enough to say, “But Lord Tywin, wasn’t it you who presented the bodies to Robert, all wrapped up in Lannister cloaks?” None of them did, but it was there on their faces all the same. Redwyne does not give a fig, he thought, but Rowan looks fit to gag.

Tywin, for the most part, quite shamelessly tries to disassociate himself from his own moral failings; this is nothing new, because he follows this same MO with squarely blaming the Freys for the Red Wedding even though he played an integral part in planning for it.

“Then why did the Mountain kill her?” “Because I did not tell him to spare her. I doubt I mentioned her at all. I had more pressing concerns. Ned Stark’s van was rushing south from the Trident, and I feared it might come to swords between us. And it was in Aerys to murder Jaime, with no more cause than spite. That was the thing I feared most. That, and what Jaime himself might do.” He closed a fist. “Nor did I yet grasp what I had in Gregor Clegane, only that he was huge and terrible in battle. The rape … even you will not accuse me of giving that command, I would hope. Ser Amory was almost as bestial with Rhaenys. I asked him afterward why it had required half a hundred thrusts to kill a girl of … two? Three? He said she’d kicked him and would not stop screaming. If Lorch had half the wits the gods gave a turnip, he would have calmed her with a few sweet words and used a soft silk pillow.” His mouth twisted in distaste. “The blood was in him.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

“And when Oberyn demands the justice he’s come for?” “I will tell him that Ser Amory Lorch killed Elia and her children,” Lord Tywin said calmly. “So will you, if he asks.” “Ser Amory Lorch is dead,” Tyrion said flatly. “Precisely. Vargo Hoat had Ser Amory torn apart by a bear after the fall of Harrenhal. That ought to be sufficiently grisly to appease even Oberyn Martell.” “You may call that justice …” “It is justice. It was Ser Amory who brought me the girl’s body, if you must know. He found her hiding under her father’s bed, as if she believed Rhaegar could still protect her. Princess Elia and the babe were in the nursery a floor below.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

Tywin tries to alleviate himself of any responsibility by blaming his men, but the narrative actively calls bullshit on this (through Tywin's own son no less).

So the narrative shows through multiple POVs that Elia's murder is contextualized exclusively as a failing on Tywin Lannister and his men; not only was it a moral failing, but Tyrion also questions if it was politically necessary in the first place. It's also important to note that ASOS is when we really dive into the matter of Elia and her children (mostly through Oberyn), but we also have to remember that this is the same book as the Red Wedding. The Red Wedding, another one of Tywin's senseless massacres that he tries to postulate as politically necessary.

So, we have agreed that the blame and context for Elia's (and her children's) murder is presented through the lens of Tywin as an immoral politician who often makes politically unnecessary moves. But then we ask ourselves, can the responsibility of this tragedy be extended? Well, yes it can. And it has been in the text.

Ser Barristan extends this tragedy beyond Tywin and his men

...to King Robert.

“Prince Rhaegar had two children,” Ser Barristan told him. “Rhaenys was a little girl, Aegon a babe in arms. When Tywin Lannister took King’s Landing, his men killed both of them. He served the bloody bodies up in crimson cloaks, a gift for the new king.” And what did Robert say when he saw them? Did he smile? Barristan Selmy had been badly wounded on the Trident, so he had been spared the sight of Lord Tywin’s gift, but oft he wondered. If I had seen him smile over the red ruins of Rhaegar’s children, no army on this earth could have stopped me from killing him. “I will not suffer the murder of children. Accept that, or I’ll have no part of this.”

The Kingbreaker, ADWD

Ned Stark does as well.

Ned did not feign surprise; Robert’s hatred of the Targaryens was a madness in him. He remembered the angry words they had exchanged when Tywin Lannister had presented Robert with the corpses of Rhaegar’s wife and children as a token of fealty. Ned had named that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.” Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage, to fight the last battles of the war alone in the south. It had taken another death to reconcile them; Lyanna’s death, and the grief they had shared over her passing.

Eddard II, AGOT

And so does Tywin, who uses Robert's tacit approval as justification for this senseless act.

Lord Tywin stared at him as if he had lost his wits. “You deserve that motley, then. We had come late to Robert’s cause. It was necessary to demonstrate our loyalty. When I laid those bodies before the throne, no man could doubt that we had forsaken House Targaryen forever. And Robert’s relief was palpable. As stupid as he was, even he knew that Rhaegar’s children had to die if his throne was ever to be secure. Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children.” His father shrugged. “I grant you, it was done too brutally. Elia need not have been harmed at all, that was sheer folly. By herself she was nothing.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

So if we can't extend the blame to Rhaegar, because the narrative doesn't do so either, what can we hold him responsible for? Let's take a step back and look at Rhaegar's culpability in this whole thing.

Was Rhaegar (and Lyanna) responsible for starting the war that would eventually lead to Elia's murder?

No. GRRM doesn't think so. The war actually started when King Aerys murdered the Lord of Winterfell and his heir, a bunch of other northern nobles, and then called for the heads of Robert Baratheon (Lord of Storm's End) and Ned Stark (the new Lord of Winterfell). Aerys broke the feudal contract, and so Jon Arryn declared war.

I don't think I would have stayed loyal to the Mad King. Do I think they were justified? Yes, and no. [...] There was no doubt that the Mad King was mad. He was paranoid and he was abusing his power. And Westeros has no Magna Carta or anything like that. There was no way to handle this within the rule of law. But was what they do justified? Especially when you consider that it was triggered by a personal grievance. The execution of Ned's father and brother was really a thing that radicalized Ned and put him in opposition to it. Robert was just rolling for a fight and didn't like the fact that he'd lost his girlfriend. So you know, the personal informs the political.

source

Rhaegar and Lyanna's disappearance was merely the spark - it led to a misunderstanding that caused Brandon Stark to ride to Kingslanding. What really caused the war was Aerys' Targaryens subsequent actions as the king. So if we want to blame someone for causing the chain of events that led to Elia's death as well as her children's, the author himself says to blame Aerys; even though I don't think this is right either because we once again stray from the necessary (and sole) context of Elia's murder - Tywin's bloody hands.

Fine. Rhaegar was not responsible for the war. But surely he is responsible for leaving Elia in King's Landing, right in the clutches of Mad King Aerys. Well, this again, is not true. As far as Rhaegar knew, Elia was in Dragonstone with Aegon and Rhaenys where he left them.

As cold winds hammered the city, King Aerys II turned to his pyromancers, charging them to drive the winter off with their magics. Huge green fires burned along the walls of the Red Keep for a moon’s turn. Prince Rhaegar was not in the city to observe them, however. Nor could he be found in Dragonstone with Princess Elia and their young son, Aegon.

“The Year of the False Spring”, The World of Ice and Fire

At some point, Elia was called to King's Landing. And it was Aerys who kept her hostage there as insurance against possible Dornish betrayal (remember, he was paranoid).

Side Note: Aerys kept another important political hostage in King's Landing along with Elia - Jaime Lannister; this is to deter anyone from trying to blame Jaime for doing nothing. He was a teenager and a hostage himself!

“My Sworn Brothers were all away, you see, but Aerys liked to keep me close. I was my father’s son, so he did not trust me. He wanted me where Varys could watch me, day and night. So I heard it all.” He remembered how Rossart’s eyes would shine when he unrolled his maps to show where the substance must be placed. Garigus and Belis were the same. “Rhaegar met Robert on the Trident, and you know what happened there. When the word reached court, Aerys packed the queen off to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. Princess Elia would have gone as well, but he forbade it. Somehow he had gotten it in his head that Prince Lewyn must have betrayed Rhaegar on the Trident, but he thought he could keep Dorne loyal so long as he kept Elia and Aegon by his side. The traitors want my city, I heard him tell Rossart, but I’ll give them naught but ashes. Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat. The Targaryens never bury their dead, they burn them. Aerys meant to have the greatest funeral pyre of them all. Though if truth be told, I do not believe he truly expected to die. Like Aerion Brightfire before him, Aerys thought the fire would transform him … that he would rise again, reborn as a dragon, and turn all his enemies to ash.

Jaime V, ASOS

Ok, fine. So Rhaegar did not abandon her with Aerys then run off to Lyanna. But he should have done something when he came back, right? Why didn't he leave more Kings Guard with Elia and the children?

Well....this is a war. The knights of the KG are important assets on the battle field. Kings Landing, at the time, was not the most dangerous location. The KG were better off at the Trident, as a victory there would protect those who were left behind in KL.

And it's not that Rhaegar didn't do anything. Beyond going off to lead the battle himself, he tried to make moves that would help those who were back in KL (Elia and the children included).

He floated in heat, in memory. “After dancing griffins lost the Battle of the Bells, Aerys exiled him.” Why am I telling this absurd ugly child? “He had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins’ men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid. He saw traitors everywhere, and Varys was always there to point out any he might have missed. So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King’s Landing. Beneath Baelor’s Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself.

Jaime V ASOS

And Jaime's POV once again shows us that Rhaegar banked on victory at the Trident, and was fully expecting to come back to KL and amend the fraught political situation.

The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate. “Your Grace,” Jaime had pleaded, “let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine.” Prince Rhaegar shook his head. “My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour.” Jaime’s anger had risen up in his throat. “I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard.” “Then guard the king,” Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. “When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey.” Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “When this battle’s done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but … well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return.”

Jaime I, AFFC

So Rhaegar wasn't leaving with no care about what happened back in King's Landing. We don't know what he wanted to do with Aerys, Elia, Lyanna, and the aftermath of the war because he died at the Trident. But we do know that he, at the very least, was planning to do something.

So we can't blame Rhaegar (and Lyanna) for starting the war and we can't blame him either for abandoning Elia in King's Landing with no care about what happens next. So, again, what can we blame him for?

“It's not entirely correct that the Martells stayed out of the war. Rhaegar had Dornish troops with him on the Trident, under the command of Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard. However, the Dornishmen did not support him as strongly as they might have, in part because of anger at his treatment of Elia, in part because of Prince Doran's innate caution.”

SSM, 09/11/1999

GRRM states that Dorne was angry about Rhaegar's treatment of Elia. What is this treatment, though?

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap.

Eddard XV, AGOT

Specifically, Rhaegar riding past Elia to crown Lyanna the Queen of Love and Beauty. Yes, that is a humiliation. And it's undeniable that no one was happy.

The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar’s cause…Yet if this were true, why did Lady Lyanna’s brothers seem so distraught at the honor the prince had bestowed upon her? Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, had to be restrained from confronting Rhaegar at what he took as a slight upon his sister’s honor…Eddard Stark, Brandon’s younger brother and a close friend to Lord Robert, was calmer but no more pleased.

“The Year of the False Spring”, The World of Ice and Fire

But, humiliating Elia is not the same thing as being responsible for her death. The narrative never equates these two things in any way. Elia's death is about Tywin's immoral and blood thirsty political actions. It's about Dorne's desire for justice (or is it vengeance?) which they know they will not get from the Lannister regime. House Lannister's downfall in King's Landing will be brought about by Prince Aegon's rise - Aegon who is proclaiming to be the long lost son of Prince Rhaegar, and who is being supported by House Martell as of now.

We can criticize Rhaegar for some things, but Elia's death is surely not one of them.

#I generally don't like talking about the whole rhaegar-lyanna-elia stuff partly because I don't really care for either of them #but mostly because these topics often devolve into extremes that help absolutely no one #but I just wanted to hop on here and say that blaming rhaegar for elia's death is imo not cannon compliant #the narrative already give us an answer to this - THE LANNISTERS but more specifically TYWIN and GREGOR and AMORY #it's not rhaegar or lyanna or their child Jon to bear any of the blame in this #dorne's decision to join the war against the crown is entirely because it's in opposition to the lannister regime #that's not to say that rhaegar cannot have responsibility for the humiliation of elia - because even grrm says he does #but saying he bears the blame for her murder is just a bit.....😕#also rhaegar is one thing but blaming LYANNA of all people is ummm well #rhaegar targaryen #robert's rebellion #tywin lannister #ser gregor clegane #ser amory lorch #house martell #elia martell #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #pls forgive any spelling and grammatical mistakes its midnights and I'm tired af thanks #my stuff

118 notes · View notes

celesterayel · 3 months

Text

the tragic heroes | percy jackson

pairing: percy Jackson ✩ ‧₊˚

IN WHICH — the tragic heroes and the tragedy that appeases the chaos.

The monster cackles in delight, its bulging eyes crinkling with glee and invoking disgust in all that have (and will) witness its countenance. Darkness hides all other pallors of rotting skin and luminously straining veins, slivers of shades of bruised blues and bloody reds clashing against the dark abyss of the room, that the monster has no use for as an entity of chaos.

Bells foil loudly in the distance, perturbing the distant silence of the castle with grating screeches only reaching the heights of noise as the pits of tartarus. It is a cacophony of choked laughter and perversive glee for the delicate steps that built the foundation for what is to come. And soon it shall!

The Fates have come knocking on the door of destiny and offered up to the beast the next great tragedy that shall put all the others to shame. A deal for judgement and devastation. The Fates have weaved through sorrows befitting the leagues of Icarus's falling and Achille's lost love, enthralling the vices of Aphrodite's cruel methods that end with aching lips and entranced poets--forever written into history. They have searched the sands of time and bid the eons of creation for this.

The monster lounges forward as if the visions in the water will disappear and greedily drinks forth the taste of cataclysmic devotion and the etchings of pain in the cosmos as the moonlight of the water provides the burning echoes from lips that shall taste the sweetest sin and ache for it in every other lifetime. What a lovely destruction this will be.

The monster pitches out, “It has begun, young little hero. Such pretty sorrows..."

The Fates have certainly outdone themselves. This story will be one for the ages to come and even after!

The walls haunch over and enclose the story in its grasp, keeping it their secret even if only just a bit longer. It reeks of desperation and devastation--the greatest ones always do.

Voices of the damned and lost screech out in laughter, the entity mocks in pity or sadness all the same: "Wretched Greek story doomed to repeat like it has every lifetime; the pour of ichor waning between reality and prophecies about to drip, drip, drip down the pages. Except in this one, it seems perhaps the gods made a mistake choosing you for him. He has no qualms choosing you over all else. I must say, I shall have fun watching the Earth burn and Olympus fall down--the chaos it shall bring...delightful! Blessing or curse we have yet to see! It seems I have a new tale to tell when the cursed half-bloods come crooning at my gates to weep. My, what marvelous tunes!”

The beast could taste the tears and heartache that slide right off this tale, so presently tasteful.

My, my what marvelous fortunes to come indeed.

The Savior of Olympus., Son of the Seas, Percy Jackson. The Survivor.

The Great One, Daughter of the Heavens, Callopeia Iris. The Tragedy.

"Finally a story for the gods below who ache for destruction and tragedy like it was made for them. They shall have a riot."

The Tragic Heroes.

✩ ‧₊˚ author note i was doing physics and calc hw and this came into my mind and now thinking of creating a full on fanfic on ao3 and wattpad based on the dialogue i wrote. i apologize for being so inactive and for the requests in my inbox. swear I have alot planned and written but classes are kicking me rn. i just needed to post this cuz i think it sounded really good :)

#luke castellan #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo series #percy jackson show #annabeth chase #luke x reader #luke pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fic writing #fan fiction #celesterayel

172 notes · View notes

fireismine · 6 months

Text

DAENERYS TARGARYEN APPRECIATION WEEK 2023

Day 6: House Targaryen → Targaryen Women + Love of Flying

Rhaenys the Conqueror

Rhaenys, youngest of the three Targaryens, was all her sister was not, playful, curious, impulsive, given to flights of fancy. No true warrior, Rhaenys loved music, dancing, and poetry, and supported many a singer, mummer, and puppeteer. Yet it was said that Rhaenys spent more time on dragonback than her brother and sister combined, for above all things she loved to fly. She once was heard to say that before she died she meant to fly Meraxes across the Sunset Sea to see what lay upon its western shores. Whilst no one ever questioned Visenya’s fidelity to her brother husband, Rhaenys surrounded herself with comely young men, and (it was whispered) even entertained some in her bedchambers on the nights when Aegon was with her elder sister. Yet despite these rumors, observers at court could not fail to note that the king spent ten nights with Rhaenys for every night with Visenya. - Aegon’s Conquest, Fire and Blood

Rhaena the Black Bride

At the age of nine, however, Rhaena was presented with a hatchling from the pits of Dragonstone, and she and the young dragon she named Dreamfyre bonded instantly. With her dragon beside her, the princess slowly began to grow out of her shyness; at the age of twelve she took to the skies for the first time, and thereafter, though she remained a quiet girl, no one dared to call her timid. Not long after, Rhaena made her first true friend in the person of her cousin Larissa Velaryon. For a time the two girls were inseparable…until Larissa was suddenly recalled to Driftmark to be wed to the second son of the Evenstar of Tarth. The young are nothing if not resilient, however, and the princess soon found a new companion in the Hand’s daughter, Samantha Stokeworth. - The Sons of the Dragon, Fire and Blood

Princess Rhaena had many a suitor as well, but unlike her brother she gave encouragement to none of them. She preferred to spend her days with her siblings, her dogs and cats, and her newest favorite, Alayne Royce, daughter to the Lord of Runestone…a plump and homely girl, but so cherished that Rhaena sometimes took her flying on the back of Dreamfyre, just as she did her brother Aegon. More often, though, Rhaena took to the skies by herself. After her sixteenth nameday, the princess declared herself a woman grown, “free to fly where I will.” - The Sons of the Dragon, Fire and Blood

Aerea Targaryen

Little and less need be said of the return of Rhaena Targaryen from Estermont after her daughter’s death. By the time the raven reached Her Grace at Greenstone, the princess had already died and been burned. Only ashes and bones remained for her mother when Dreamfyre delivered her to the Red Keep. “It would seem that I am doomed to always come too late,” she said. When the king offered to have the ashes interred on Dragonstone, beside those of King Aegon and the other dead of House Targaryen, Rhaena refused. “She hated Dragonstone,” she reminded His Grace. “She wanted to fly.” And so saying, she took her child’s ashes high into the sky on Dreamfyre, and scattered them upon the winds. - Jaehaerys and Alysanne: Their Triumphs and Tragedies, Fire and Blood

Alysanne Targaryen

The last years of Alysanne Targaryen were sad and lonely ones. In her youth, Good Queen Alysanne had loved her subjects, lords and commons alike. She had loved her women’s courts, listening, learning, and doing what she could to make the realm a kinder place. She had seen more of the Seven Kingdoms than any queen before or since, slept in a hundred castles, charmed a hundred lords, made a hundred marriages. She had loved music, had loved to dance, had loved to read. And oh, how she had loved to fly. Silverwing had carried her to Oldtown, to the Wall, and to a thousand places in between, and Alysanne saw them all as few others ever would, looking down from above the clouds. - The Long Reign: Jaehaerys and Alysanne: Policy, Progeny and Pain - Fire and Blood

Alyssa Targaryen

The princess was seldom long away from the Dragonpit after that day. Flying was the second sweetest thing in the world, she would oft say, and the very sweetest thing could not be mentioned in the company of ladies. The Dragonkeepers had not been wrong; Meleys was as swift a dragon as Westeros had ever seen, easily outpacing Caraxes and Vhagar when she and her brothers flew together. - The Long Reign: Jaehaerys and Alysanne: Policy, Progeny and Pain - Fire and Blood

Laena Velaryon

Though Princess Rhaenyra had been proclaimed her father’s successor, there were many in the realm, at court and beyond it, who still hoped that Viserys might father a male heir, for the Young King was not yet thirty. Grand Maester Runciter was the first to urge His Grace to remarry, even suggesting a suitable choice: the Lady Laena Velaryon, who had just turned twelve. A fiery young maiden, freshly flowered, Lady Laena had inherited the beauty of a true Targaryen from her mother, Rhaenys, and a bold, adventurous spirit from her father, the Sea Snake. As Lord Corlys loved to sail, Laena loved to fly, and had claimed for her own no less a mount than mighty Vhagar, the oldest and largest of the Targaryen dragons since the passing of the Black Dread in 94 AC. By taking the girl to wife, the king could heal the rift that had grown up between the Iron Throne and Driftmark, Runciter pointed out. And Laena would surely make a splendid queen. - Heirs of the Dragon: A Question of Succession, Fire and Blood

The Hightowers of Oldtown were an ancient and noble family, of impeccable lineage; there could be no possible objection to the king’s choice of bride. Even so, there were those who murmured that the Hand had risen above himself, that he had brought his daughter to court with this in mind. A few even cast doubt on Lady Alicent’s virtue, suggesting she had welcomed King Viserys into her bed even before Queen Aemma’s death. (These calumnies were never proved, though Mushroom repeats them in his Testimony and goes so far as to claim that reading was not the only service Lady Alicent performed for the Old King in his bedchamber.) In the Vale, Prince Daemon reportedly whipped the serving man who brought the news to him within an inch of his life. Nor was the Sea Snake pleased when word reached Driftmark. House Velaryon had been passed over once again, his daughter, Laena, scorned just as his son, Laenor, had been scorned by the Great Council, and his wife by the Old King back in 92 AC. Only Lady Laena herself seemed untroubled. “Her ladyship shows far more interest in flying than in boys,” the maester at High Tide wrote to the Citadel. - Heirs of the Dragon: A Question of Succession, Fire and Blood

Rhaenyra Targaryen

At the center of the merriment, cherished and adored by all, was their only surviving child, Princess Rhaenyra, the little girl the court singers dubbed “the Realm’s Delight.” Though only six when her father came to the Iron Throne, Rhaenyra Targaryen was a precocious child, bright and bold and beautiful as only one of dragon’s blood can be beautiful. At seven, she became a dragonrider, taking to the sky on the young dragon she named Syrax, after a goddess of old Valyria. At eight, the princess was placed into service as a cupbearer…but for her own father, the king. At table, at tourney, and at court, King Viserys thereafter was seldom seen without his daughter by his side. - Heirs of the Dragon: A Question of Succession, Fire and Blood

Baela Targaryen

“She is overly fond of boys,” the castellan wrote Baela’s father, Prince Daemon, after that incident, “and should be married soon, lest she surrender her virtue to someone unworthy of her.” Even more than boys, however, Lady Baela loved to fly. Since first riding her dragon Moondancer into the sky not half a year past, she had flown every day, ranging freely to every part of Dragonstone and even across the sea to Driftmark. - The Dying of the Dragons: Rhaenyra Triumphant, Fire and Blood

Rhaena of Pentos

During the first quarter of 135 AC, two momentous events were the occasion of great joy throughout the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. On the third day of the third moon of that year, the people of King’s Landing woke to a sight that had not been seen since the dark days of the Dance: a dragon in the skies above the city. Lady Rhaena, at the age of nineteen, was flying her dragon, Morning, for the first time. That first day she circled once around the city before returning to the Dragonpit, but every day thereafter she grew bolder and flew farther. - The Lysene Spring and the End of the Regency, Fire and Blood

Daenerys Stormborn

Memories walked with her. Clouds seen from above. Horses small as ants thundering through the grass. A silver moon, almost close enough to touch. Rivers running bright and blue below, glimmering in the sun. Will I ever see such sights again? On Drogon's back she felt whole. Up in the sky the woes of this world could not touch her. How could she abandon that? - Daenerys X, A Dance with Dragons

Then all of that had faded, the sounds dwindling, the people shrinking, the spears and arrows falling back beneath them as Drogon clawed his way into the sky. Up and up and up he'd borne her, high above the pyramids and pits, his wings outstretched to catch the warm air rising from the city's sun baked bricks. If I fall and die, it will still have been worth it, she had thought. - Daenerys X, A Dance with Dragons

#danyweek2023 #canondany #asoiaf #daenerys targaryen

235 notes · View notes

ladythornofrivia · 5 months

Text

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Three)

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: modern!reader bloody and beaten up but the prince interrupted the scene.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

a/n: please read chapter 2 before reading chapter 3 to know what’s happening. I hope you don’t mind long chapters.

Chapter Three: The House of Black & Green

~ Aemond’s POV ~

Thunder and rain barraged outside the Red Keep. So does Aemond’s heart, thundering and disoriented, clashing like the volcanos in the Doom of Valyria.

Aegon, on the other hand—surprisingly—stopped drinking; silently looking beyond the carved hole and examined the events unfold.

A gush of blood tainted onto the stoned floor when Ser Marrow thrashed your body forward, collapsing with a wet thud.

In the house of the dragons, Targaryens and Velaryons immediately stood from their seats, watching the events unfold. Ser Marrow huffed with his might, abiding for the Targaryens to come to an understanding with Ser Marrow’s reasons.

Alicent rose onto her feet and hoisted you up, but only meet halfway by you sitting up, bleeding as Alicent untied the blindfold and shielded you with her arms, as if Alicent has regret something in the first place.

“Explain yourself, Ser Marrow,” Alicent demanded, brows furrowed in ferocious temper.

Rhaenyra got up from her chair at a slow pace, mouth opened with terror at your current state. She knew that you were hurt from the battle; poisoned by the blade piercing through your youthful flesh.

“I was only doing good for the realm, to keep the peace intact,” Ser Marrow explained. “For Targaryen dynasty!”

“Lady (y/n) rescued my daughter from falling off the bridge, and you call it a ‘threat’,” Alicent defended.

Rhaenyra contained her wrath when Ser Marrow spoke for the ‘good of the realm’. “She saved my son,” she scolded him. “If it wasn’t for her, my son would’ve been killed from the wretched fools.”

“Yes, the wretched fools that this thing brought to the Red Keep!” Ser Marrow accused. “People are dead because of this monstrous bitch!”

Rhaenyra shook her head. “Ser Marrow, you forget yourself. What in the Seven Hells are you thinking? Beating her to a pulp, causing an uproar in the room was no good of excuse for you to gain sympathy of your ranking from us! Why do you think so highly of yourself? Have you had no shame on what you’ve caused?”

Ser Marrow hesitated for a moment, looking at you, then looking back at Rhaenyra. “I only did my duty, princess. Should she stay here in King’s Landing, death and destruction will bring upon the Targaryen line.”

“She did what she had to do to keep my family safe—”

“She’s a monster!” Ser Marrow bellowed. “A monster hiding beneath the human skin. She’s isn’t ordinary! Dangerous and filled with malice and lascivious intents to destory Westeros!”

Rhaenyra sighed, shaking her head. Prince Daemon, who stood the corner of the room, watched the events unfold.

Meanwhile, Alicent still embraced you tight, lessening the anxiety you were trying to suppress.

Aemond watched you from afar. Even awake, he found himself focused on your features—all fragile with grace and beauty within quietude. Droplets sank onto your tainted dress and your once immaculate hair has disarray from hair pulling. Aemond kept his composure and cast his sentimental aside.

Behind him, Aegon took notice of this, but said none; only amusement etched onto his drunken face.

“How dare you raised your voice against me, your future Queen, an heir to the Iron Throne and Seven Kingdoms?!” Rhaenyra declared.

Ser Marrow chuckled. “We all know in our hearts that you will never be queen or inherit the throne like that Rhaenys bitch, stringing along in a comfortably life with that old and weak man like that Sea Snake fucker!”

Everyone’s eyes snapped at his statement. Even Aemond’s and Aegon’s—halt from their tracks.

“Oh yes, surely you think it’s time to realize that you, a woman with big tits, hideous face and a loose cunt will never stand a chance against the son to rule to Seven Kingdoms on the Iron Throne. Sons are meant to rule, never the daughters.”

Rhaenyra had gone pale.

The silent gasps ensued.

Alicent stood up and approached Ser Marrow. “Remove your cloak and sword; you are hereby exiled from Westeros and reside at the Wall.”

Ser Marrow snorted without batting an eye on Alicent. “I don’t take orders from an ugly, vicious cunt.”

Alicent withstood her ground. “I won’t ask again, Ser Marrow.”

Anger blazing, Aemond make haste outside of the secret passage to enter the room, but Aegon hauled him back.

“Release me, brother. I have no time to indulge with your silly antics,” Aemond warned.

Aegon clutched Aemond’s arm tighter. “You’ll get in trouble. In more ways than one,” he warned back.

“Since when do you give a shit about your younger brother other than your wine and whores?” Aemond yanked his arm off from Aegon and entered the scene without noticing him; everyone is too focused that they’re unaware of Aemond’s presence hidden behind the thick pillar, his sword in hand, with his watchful eye, he was waiting for a moment to strike.

~Your POV~

Clutching your stomach as you were urging not to cough more blood. Behind you, the shadow overcast the ground, revealing Rhaenyrs Velaryon offered you a comforting smile and hands on your shoulders, though appearing more apologetic and saddening.

“Ser Criston, take Ser Marrow and escort him outside the Red Keep at once,” Alicent demanded in a low tone.

Ser Marrow shoved Criston back; Criston held his sword on his throat as the other guards in the room held their swords directly in front of Criston and Marrow.

“I will take no part in this charade,” Ser Marrow replied.

“Stand down now, good sir,” Criston said. “And walk away from the Red Keep.”

Ser Marrow. “This is your doing, Criston! If you haven’t brought that bitch here in the Red Keep, I would’ve still be part of the Kingsguard!”

“This is your own choosing to beat Lady (y/n),” Criston responded, apathetic.

“If only the monster hadn’t save the Rhaenyra’s bastard son, the succession to the Iron Throne would be secured. But he’s no son of the late Prince Laenor”—chuckled—“no, rather both monsters brought great ruination.”

For once, you’re glad Jace isn’t here.

“Fuck you,” you choked, blood spattered. “Admit it, you couldn’t handle a woman who bested you.”

Ser Marrow’s mouth clenched so tight, veins protruding from his neck. “You vile, insolent de—”

All the guards’s swords lowered, except for one blade tip kissed on Marrow’s neck with a pointed end. “A war hasn’t even begun and you’ve beaten a young maiden. Do you really think that have you a chance of walking out alive,” a voice said. “I dare you to say the word “demon” again, Ser Marrow.”

All their eyes turned to Aemond, who was looking down, gazing at you.

Though your eyes nearly dwindled, you heart beat pounded against the cage in your chest at the sight of him.

“Aemond, what are you doing here?” Alicent asked, rushing to his side, tugging the upper sleeve of his leathered jacket.

“I was only here to defend her,” Aemond answered with a droned hum. “After all, she saved my dear sister,” Aemond said coolly without averting gaze away from Ser Marrow, though given the exception of looking towards you ever so benign.

“Get back out in the hall, Aemond. This is no fight of yours; Ser Marrow must stand down and leave from the Red Keep,” Alicent said, frantic.

But Aemond ignored her, deepened the blade. “If you touch her again, there will be war.”

Everyone held their breath as they watch Aemond, his cautions ingrained into their minds.

“Aemond,” Alicent hissed, nudging him.

Aemond lowered his blade, and as soon as he did, Ser Marrow rushed towards you with his fist high up, but the sword cleaved Marrow’s head into two, leaving the guards already held their swords to disarm Aemond, as the table clanged loud; one guard bled from his head; Aegon slammed the guard down from trying to stab Aemond on his blind side, and held a short sword; the blade’s tip scraped the guard’s cheek.

“I wouldn’t do it again if I were you,” Aegon said to the guard and caught sight of you with a faint smirk on his wine-stained lips.

Prince Daemon lazily made his way to the crowd to retrieve Rhaenyra as the guards collected Ser Marrow’s body. But before that, Aemond said, “Feed Ser Marrow’s corpse to Vhagar. His service is no longer needed.”

Spectators stared in awe at the sudden events; not one utter a word of objection or sputter disagreement with the one-eyed dragon prince, as Aemond swept his sword clean with a cloth, not sparing a glance to anyone.

Once he sheathed his sword, Aemond advanced towards you and lifted you up, leaving everyone staggered at his proclamation for you.

Taglist: @galactict3a @toodlesxcuddles @daonenonlysandman @hufflepuff1700 @me753 @fredskum @danika1994 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics

267 notes · View notes

lordgrimwing · 20 days

Text

How Elwing Lost A Silmaril

The first letter—sealed with an eight-pointed star pressed into red wax and delivered just before dawn—left Elwing trembling in her small office, stomach rolling and the taste of bile thick on her tongue. What was she to do? What could she do? Her parents’ murderers were coming here.

The letter didn’t say as much outright. The writer (Maedhros, she’d learned his name eventually, but he would always be the red-haired orcish monster that took her home away and haunted her worst nightmares) veiled every threat behind eloquent lines of meaningless placations and enteritis for the silmaril. He asked her, granddaughter of a thief, to return it to him, eldest son of its maker and rightful heir. But she could read what he did not say: that if she did not bend to his will he would do to Sirion as he did to Menegroth. He would come with his fell army and slaughter everyone in his way.

But how could she give up the jewel? It protected them, kept the forces of darkness at bay just enough for the refugees to eke out a living on the shores. And should Eärendil, her dear, brave husband, find a path to Aman, its light might be the only thing that could stay the Valar’s Doom long enough for them to listen to him. She could not give up their hope.

The second letter—sealed in red wax and delivered as the barley fields were harvested—brought more promises of horrors unnamed falling upon the settlement. She wept after throwing it in the fire. She could not do this on her own. The city council was terrified into inaction at the thought of what lay before then, and Eärendil was still out at sea. She missed him. She missed him so terribly when the councilors looked at her with fearful eyes and asked for her decision.

The fifth letter arrived in the hands of an underfed Mannish girl as the first winds of winter blew in from the sea. Elwing gave her food and a family offered a spot in their home, but the girl said her lord instructed her to go nowhere else until she had a reply for him. Elwing thought of banishing her from the city unanswered, of telling the guards with their rough-made weapons to see that the Fëanorian did not return. She regretted the thought nearly as soon as she had it. The girl was young and it was not her fault that her parents joined themselves to a mighty Elf lord. She could stay for a day.

Tell me whatsoever you desire, the greatest or smallest need of your heart.

The letter said in handwriting that was fast becoming too familiar.

I will give unto you that thing and greater still if you would part with my father’s Silmaril. I would bring you all the provisions of my camp, all the weapons of my army, every other precious thing of power left in this land if you would but willingly part with that one small thing that I must otherwise be driven to take by force in the spring. Tell me your desire, and I will give it unto you. Let this not end with blood.

She fumed in her office, angrily pacing the thin rug gifted to her by the weary-eyed wife of one of her father’s guards who fell in the tunnels of Menegroth. She does not need anything from the murdering bastard! Sirion has all it requires. They would be safe if only they were left alone. How can Maedhros think that he could ever give her anything to make up for what he’s done, to convince her to do what he wants? He’s a monster and a coward who wishes to soothe his conscience by acting as if the attack is all her fault, an inevitable consequence of her resistance. He wishes to absolve himself of yet more evil.

She will not let him. If it is the only thing she can do, she will defy him.

Elwing takes up precious ink and paper. She throws herself into her chair and leans over the beaten desk, pouring her anger and helplessness into the words she scratches across the page.

You’ve taken everything from my people. You wish to take everything from me again. You are monstrous, servant of Morgoth. May the Valar stand against you as I cannot. What would I have, you ask? I would have what you’ve taken from me restored: I would have Dior, my father, and Nimloth, my mother; I would have Eluréd and Elurín, my brothers, alive again and in my arms. But I shall never have them for they died at your hands and at your command. You cannot give me my parents. You search for my little brothers but still cannot give them to me. So, what would I have? I would have your brothers. Give me your two youngest. I have lost my twin brothers for this gem. You must do the same.

She signed the bottom with a vicious strike that split the quill’s nip, blotting the page with ink as dark as orc blood. Her heartbeat in her chest, thumped against her ribs under her breast as though it would escape fate. Her letter would change nothing and she hesitated for a moment before dripping wax from a flickering candle for the seal, tempted to throw the paper to the fire.

She’d written in a tantrum, a final kicking of her feet against what would come in an impotent rage. But what did it matter? Did she not deserve to beat her fists against the Doom once? Everyone looked to her for leadership and guidance as Dior’s heir but she felt like little more than a child. This would be so much easier to handle with Eärendil at her side but he still had not returned and at times she doubted he ever would (what Doom had befallen him on the waters? What lonely fate for him and the crew on the waves?). She would send this letter then say goodbye to all childishness and face what came bravely as her parents and grandparents did.

Resolved, she dripped the wax and sealed the letter. She’d give it to the messenger tomorrow with what small food they could spare so the girl did not starve on the journey. And then…

And then all would be out of her hands and fate would fall as it would.

The sixth letter came in the hands of two red-haired Elves on tall horses. The men sat straight and tall in the saddle, their heads held high. Elwing would have called them haughty if they hadn’t dismounted and bowed deeply before her, falling to one knee as one might before royalty. A third Elf, dark-haired and somber-eyed, rode with them, though he kept himself aside and astride his steed.

“Queen Elwing,” one of the red-heads said, his face fire-scarred. He paused, waiting for permission to go on.

She nodded and waved her hand impatiently, wondering what new trick Maedhros was playing or if this was how he announced an impending slaughter.

The speaker went on, looking up slightly though he stayed kneeling. “We are Ambarussa–” he gestured to the other– “youngest sons of Fëanor. We give ourselves up at your request in exchange for the silmaril.”

Elwing stood in frozen silence as he continued, icy sea breeze biting at her fingers and face.

#the ambarussar are hers now i guess #will this change everything or nothing?#i have my ideas #maedhros is the worst of the sons of feanor actually because he will justify doing anything for a silmaril #crack fic #but i'm treating this crack seriously #elwing #amrod #amras #maedhros #ambarussa #elwing's ambarussa au #grimwing writes #the silmarillion #the silmarils #sirion #third kinslaying #(except it doesn't end up happening now)

124 notes · View notes

j4gm · 7 months

Text

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 7: THE STAR

Let's see what this episode has in store.

This is an alternate universe where Simon was killed by vampires before he found Marceline. Even the scientific parasite in his breast pocket looks like it has been drained of blood.

Our Simon demonstrating his survival skills. We never got to see him dealing with vampires in his own universe, but presumably he ran into them a few times and is familiar with their weaknesses.

These kinds of vampire minions last appeared in the Stakes miniseries. They are a lot more varied in design now. Also, the architecture of this world is interesting. It looks like gothic palaces have been built into the roots of decaying skyscrapers.

Bonnie's crew has several of the familiar vampire hunting tools from Stakes, including stake launchers and garlic bombs. They also douse some of the vampires in holy water, which was previously shown to harm demons in the episode Dad's Dungeon. This is the first time it's been seen working on vampires.

Marshall Lee has a Hambo mirror decoration. In the prime universe Hambo was Marceline's toy teddy bear, given to her by Simon.

Martin is an interesting choice for Bonnie's crew. In this universe it seems like he never had a son, since the humans presumably never left Ooo for the Islands. It also seems like he's a better person here, willing to risk his life to follow Fionna's noble lead. He has the same jacket as he had in The Visitor, which several people identified when we first saw Fionna wearing it in the trailer.

The cat on Bonnie's mug is Timmy from the episode The Pajama War. The fact she broke it is surely the most heartbreaking loss of this episode :(

The other member of the team is Huntress Wizard, who looks to be a human in this universe for some reason. I don't think Huntress Wizard was originally human in the prime universe.

Baby Finn snuck into this universe, and by the end of the episode was left to be raised by self-repairing battletank single gay dad PepButt. I'm sure he'll turn out fine.

The Cosmic Owl has been flagged up on Scarab's arrest list for "profiteering". Perhaps his neglect of his duties during Hoots has been discovered, or perhaps this is a new crime.

There are loads of new genderswapped characters in this scene. I've already reblogged a post listing all the ones we've spotted so far, so refer to that for details. The most significant is Ms. Abadeer. According to the credits, her first name is Hana.

Even Billy has been slain by vampires.

Princess Bubblegum calls Fionna a dillweed, her go-to insult from the episode Hot Diggity Doom. It's good to hear some Adventure Time swearing from time to time despite the liberties they're taking with the TV-14 rating.

Enter the titular character! Like the other members of the Vampire Court from Stakes, Marceline has taken a new name from the ranks of the Major Arcana of a tarot deck: The Star. Huntress mentions that she is the last member of the court, having outlived everyone beside the Vampire King himself. The fact she can fly suggests she killed and sucked The Fool's soul despite him being a fellow member of the court.

She is seen using her soul-sucking demon powers, inherited from Hunson, on Martin. She also demonstrates that she has no problem drinking blood in this universe, despite the fact vampires can eat the colour red.

Bonnie and The Star have such an interesting dynamic in this episode. It seems like fate is seeking to entwine them, but this has been twisted into a relationship of mutual hatred. Yet The Star is furious when a minion suggests she kill Bonnie, and Bonnie fails to take an opportunity to kill The Star later on. Something is keeping these two immortals in an eternal dance, even in a universe where they are arch nemeses.

A lot of this series has centred around Simon's relationship to fatherhood, and realising that he is a better dad than some of the others he's met will likely end up being a key moment in his recovery.

I believe this section was boarded by Hannah K. You've probably all seen her famous Bubbline stakeplay drawing. This scene must have been fun to draw.

I really enjoyed the parallel of Gary and Marshall getting their climactic kiss while Bonnie and The Star fell together to their deaths, demonstrating that the girls' fall was just as gay as the boys kissing, but in a very different way. We also know from interviews that Gary and Marshall's relationship is supposed to parallel that of early Bubbline in the prime universe. Perhaps Princess Bubblegum got Marceline out of a bad deal with Hunson Abadeer, shortly after their first meeting at Marceline's concert, and that's when they first hit it off.

The dream in this episode's credits features Marceline's house; a home that neither The Star nor this Marshall Lee have ever known.

#adventure time #fionna and cake #easter egg posts

360 notes · View notes

goodoldfashionedengineer · 23 hours

Text

Gotham is sentient. Gotham knows what is going on in. Gotham knows who is fighting for her.

So when the Batman proves himself of trying his very best nearly every night to protect his city, Gotham announces him her knight and shows him a vision. A vision of the future. Of who her next protector will be.

He calls himself the Red Hood. Not the same guy he had already fought, but someone who stands close to him. Who is not afraid to kill.

He is allowed one question.

"What is his name?"

"Jason Todd"

Maybe he can change things.

Not a name that strikes out. Nothing special. But he remembers it.

And then, one night, he meets a boy stealing his tires. He definitely knows how to defend himself, Bruce's bruised ribs are proof of that. But he doesn't have anyone.

So he puts him in Ma Gunn's school for boys. Maybe with some proper guidance he could become Gotham's protector without killing.

But the school turned out to be a crime scheme. Better to remove all variables and train the boy himself.

As the months go by, Jason feels save enough to put his walls down. To not play into the tough guy act anymore. He is positively overwhelmed because this boy is so sweet, so kind and nice and enthusiastic. So Bruce might be doing a good job apparently.

Until. Until the Garzonas case. Bruce has seen it. The man with the red helmet, the guns and the corpses and blood surrounding him. With the same eyes as his son. The knowledge of the future leads him to think that Jason HAS to have pushed Felipe.

Bruce blames himself, thinks he has wasted his time and resources. And it hurts because despite everything he has begun to love this boy. But he is just Batman, he can't change the future.

But then Jason dies. And that hurts more. Because now Jason never even has the chance to grow up to be Red Hood, doesn't have the chance to grow up at all. And he hates himself because sometimes he thinks about if this might be a good thing actually. He died as an innocent child. It's tragic, he deserved better. But maybe this is better than becoming a murderer and it is mercy.

Years later, Red Hood arrives in Gotham.

In front of him stands the man he saw in the future vision all those years ago.

Bruce reflects. If he had just left Jason alone when he first met him. But who knows if it would even have mattered? His biggest regret though is that he ever thought that a child dying might be something good.

After the debacle that was the Joker showdown, Jason multiplies his effort to help Gotham his way times ten. And that's when Gotham awards him with a vision, tells him that he is her paladin and tells him her rules, how he has one question open after seeing who her next protector will be.

Jason doesn't really care for the person in the vision, what happens in the future should stay in the future, because otherwise they were always doomed.

But then it strikes him. An idea. A terrible one but it seems logical. He has to word this carefully. "Has Batman known that I, Jason Todd, would become Red Hood?"

"Yes"

At their next encounter, Jason tells him how much of a savior complex he has. In reality, Jason is deeply hurt. Bruce treated him as someone that deserved to be cherished, to be loved. Treated him as someone valuable. But now he sees that Bruce had only ever seen him as broken, something to fix, someone doomed. Nothing more

#batman #bruce wayne #red hood #jason todd #batman and red hood #bruce and jason #jason and bruce #robin ii #under the red hood #utrh #batman prompt #fic prompt #batman fanfiction #batman au #batfam #batfamily #gotham

56 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 8 months

Text

Lullaby of the seas

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: violence, blood, mentions of eating humans but nothing graphic

Pairing: Choi Jongho x female reader

Word count: 15,2k

Summary: Choi Jongho could be described as a dreamer; he loved folklore and fairytales. His father was a sailor and often brought his son out on the sea with himself, thus they lived off of selling fish and pearls. Jongho was well raised and always kind, a very hard-working son, therefore it came as no surprise that he accepted the job offer of a mysterious pirate when his father's house got destroyed by a storm. Jongho was quiet and didn’t bother others, did his job very well and secretly fantasized about meeting a mermaid one day. There was one tiny problem, the seas they sailed had no mermaids in them, only vicious sirens out for the blood of unassuming pirates and sailors. (Reader is called Sunmi in the following oneshots.)

A/N: Second part of the series is up, lovelies! It's like the Flash possessed me or something by how quickly I finished this part lol; I'll try to post San's part before I go on vacation, but no promises. I hope I did alright with this part, and don't be shy, leave feedback, let me know your thoughts! Enjoy now!

Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329

Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part

I sat on a rock, close by the shore, watching the waves crash against the beach, occasionally washing up pearls and seashells. The light breeze was slowly picking up into a more powerful wind, blowing my wet long, black hair in my face. The sun was setting in an hour, the air not as warm as it was throughout the day, and I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I exhaled. This was my home. The sea. The ocean. The water. I have never touched land, or walked on it, as I lacked legs, as humans called them, to be able to do so. Instead of legs, I had a long-scaled tail, sturdy and strong. The black scales traveled up my stomach in an uneven pattern and covered my breasts scarcely, creating the illusion that they were molded into my skin. Despite sitting out in the sun quite often, I was rather pale, the only color on my face being my red lips which hid my sharp teeth, perfect for hunting. Despite popular beliefs, folklore was the one responsible for twisting the truth about Sirens, we only ate once a month and it was during the full moon. We recharged through the energies of the moon and through the blood of the sailors we took as our prey. Our beautiful voices lured them in, creating the perfect distraction for us to group around their boats and then attack as they were just waking up from the daze our lullabies put them into. No matter how cautious they were, they usually never made it out alive. The Raging Sea was our territory and despite sailors and pirates knowing about it, they still tried their luck and travelled through it. If the violent storms didn’t kill them, the sirens lurking in the depths surely did.

I opened my eyes and they fell on a large ship in the distance, sailing away peacefully, unassuming of the doom they were about to face tonight. It was a full moon and the swarm was hungry. Last month we didn’t find enough sailors for ourselves and had to share our prey among us, something which left us weaker than usually, thus we were starving, bloodthirsty and slightly desperate. Their blood wasn’t the only food, human flesh was tastier than anything else. Some were sweeter than others, mostly women, but we rarely had the pleasure to kill one, so we had to suffice with the disgusting sailors. Pirates were harder to trick, but if you stayed persistent, they’d willingly come to swim with you which made our job so much easier.

Bubbles travelled to the surface of the salty water before a head popped up to the surface, light green eyes staring into my icy blue ones, “Here you were.”

It was Serena, we were from the same swarm and she was someone I considered a friend. We usually stuck together when hunting in case anything went wrong, someone was there to help. Sirens didn’t make connections between each other like humans did, but I trusted Serena enough to allow her to approach me whenever she wanted. Despite living in a swarm, each one of us went on their merry ways, only reuniting when the full moon was to come up. We were stronger together than alone.

“Do you need something?” I asked her as she swum around the rock before pulling herself halfway out of the water, forearms resting on the solid surface. Serena’s head tilted and she smiled, her sharp teeth showing.

“Are you contemplating again?” She asked amused and I looked away from her, eyes focusing on the ship again. She followed my sight of line and her smile disappeared.

“About what?”

“Life.” Serena said, her expression mirroring mine. Our sharp eyes were narrowed and mouth slightly salivating at the sight of so many humans. We couldn’t help it; we were hungrier than ever before.

“I was actually fantasizing about the taste of those sailors.” I said to Serena, her eyes looking back at the ship.

“They are actually pirates,” She corrected me and then chuckled, “Silas asked us to meet near the cave, I came to let you know.”

I hummed and jumped off the rock, the cool water washing over my warmed-up body. My skin was slowly drying out from staying in the sun for so long and out of water, but it instantly rejuvenated once in the salty water. My body was light in the water and once Serena was underwater too, we swam off, headed to the cave. Our feast was soon about to start.

The sun had set hours ago and the pirates lowered their small boats into the water, getting into them with torches in their hands. The swarm watched from afar as they started paddling towards the small deserted island. There was nothing on it except for a little green here and there and perhaps pearls, it made no sense that they were headed towards it, but nobody seemed to care. To be fair, even I could only think about their warm blood gushing into my mouth once I ripped their throats apart. There were fifteen of us in the swarm, Silas being our leader. He looked at everyone before slowly immersing himself fully underwater, everyone following after him. Our scales had a light fluorescent color in the water at night, making it easier to see each other. And even if they didn’t, our light eyes glowed in the dark, making us scarier looking than we already were. We were creatures of the sea and darkness, designed to be alluring in order to survive. We didn’t have much purpose besides feeding and playing into humans fantasies about peculiar creatures. I’ve heard many talking about mermaids while they sailed the seas, if it wasn’t a full moon we usually wouldn’t harm them. I liked to follow them closely on those days, letting them catch a glimpse of my tail in order to make them think they were hallucinating or seeing a bigger fish maybe. I heard the stories about mermaids, how friendly and sweet they were. But in reality, there were no mermaids. Only Sirens. And we weren’t friendly nor sweet. We were dangerous and lethal.

The swarm traveled carefully, making sure to remain unseen until the right moment. There were three boats in the water and five of us swam underneath each one, listening to pirates’ conversation carried by the water. The sea was quiet tonight, the full moon high up on the sky, luminating their dark paths. It was as if nature was the quiet before the storm, the storm being us. I watched as a pirate leaned over the boat slightly, his face blurry through the water and I smiled. Wasn’t he so eager to get into the water? And he wouldn’t have to wait for so much longer. Silas’ whisper carried around us like a caress, resounding around us softly and clearly, as he let us know that it was time. Serena smirked as we made eye contact and then slowly surfaced, showing her face to the pirates. I swam up as well, only peaking my eyes out, nose and mouth still underwater. The men were staring at us in awe, looking at us as if they’ve seen the biggest treasure of their lives. My eyes ran over the boat filled with six men and I found one who looked horrified. His mouth has fallen open and if I didn’t know better, I would’ve said he stopped breathing by how red his face had gotten. He was shocked, but intrigued at the same time, as I swam closer to the boat, our eyes locked onto each other. His were a dark brown, and he pushed one of the man to the side to get to the edge of the boat. I pushed my head fully out of the water and smiled at him sweetly, hiding my teeth. His eyes were wide as he stared at me and I sighed dreamily, making his eyebrows furrow.

“You’re real?” He whispered, more to himself, as I parted my lips and allowed the first note to slip through them. Our voices were angelic, high and melodic, they could lure over even certain sea animals. I didn’t think the pirate’s eyes could get any bigger than they already were, but it did, so I continued singing the lullaby, holding eye contact all the time. His body slowly seemed to relax as my voice carried higher and higher, slowly waddling closer to his boat. The pirate was fixated on me, eyes slowly dazing over, mouth slightly opening. His brain was fogged and body probably going numb from the Siren song. It was like a sweet poison, overtaking your whole being, rendering you completely helpless, allowing us to be in full control. I reached the boat and touched the side of it with my hand, nails long and pointy, as the pirate leaned closer, over the boat. His cherry-colored lips were pouty and his skin tan from staying out in the sun. I smiled at him as a few of the sirens already brought their prey into the water with them and I allowed my hand to reach the edge of the boat, lightly graze the pirate’s lips. He smiled dazed and gripped the sides of the boat, my song luring him inside the water. And as he got rid of his jacket, the muscles on his high cheekbones twitched. I ignored it and gripped the boat, next to the pirate’s hand, our skins touching. His was extremely hot compared to my freezing one. I smiled sweetly at him again, nodding in reassurance. He seemed to be taking his time in getting into the water compared to most of companions, who were already in it. But I remained calm and patient. I caressed his hand with my other one, and his eyebrows furrowed. Perhaps my song wasn’t powerful enough, so I raised my tone, taking his hand in mine and lightly pulling on it. He started getting up from his seated position, finally manipulated into coming inside the sea. But the muscles of his face twitched again and his lips pulled into a straight line, suddenly snatching his hand out of mine. My eyes widened but I didn’t let that discourage me as I continued singing, voice louder and more aggressive as I maintained the eye contact, but the haze was starting to disappear from the pirate’s eyes. What was happening? Was I not powerful enough anymore? That was impossible, the full moon enhanced our powers.

“No, no, no—” The pirate started muttering to himself, shaking his head as he started blinking, “No—Stop!”

I gasped as my lullaby came to an end, watching the pirate jump up and shake his dazed mate, “No, stop listening to them! These are sirens, they’ll—”

The man behind him screamed as a Siren bit into him and pulled him underwater forcefully, snapping a few pirates out of their daze. They looked horrified as they jumped to their feet and grabbed their weapons. Silas’s high-pitched wail pierced the pirates ears as the ones in the water fought for their lives, only to have their necks pierced by the sirens sharp teeth.

“Father!” The pirate I tried to lure into the water screamed at the dazed man still sitting, hand in water, Serena whispering sweet things to him. I smirked and went underwater again, wanting to antagonize the pirate a little bit more. Chaos had already erupted, and the pirates in the water were lost forever, however, the ones in the boats searched for their weapons, wanting to harm us. As a bullet pierced through the water I hissed and crashed into the bottom of the boat forcefully, rocking it quite harshly. I heard thuds and got back onto the surface, watching as my pirate fought against Serena as his father still didn’t snap out of the daze. Gunshots echoed through the night and a siren wailed loudly, making my head snap in their direction. Their eyes were wide open as a bullet pierced their forehead, making me cry out loudly. It pierced the humans eardrums and I looked back at the pirate now aiming his shotgun at Serena, and I knew what I had to do. I quickly swam to the boat and jump out, gripping the pirate’s arm as I pulled him with me underwater. He had dropped his gun in the boat in shock and tried to swim away, but I wrapped my hand around their torso and head, holding them against myself. The pirate startled struggling and just to spite him more, I started singing, smirking at him when he realized what was about to happen. I opened my mouth wide, sharp teeth visible, as the pirate started choking on water, kicking anywhere he could to no avail, as my teeth sunk into his neck. I moaned at the taste of blood in my mouth, my body warming up from the top to the bottom. I closed my eyes as I took us deeper underneath, losing myself in my lust for his blood, sweeter than anything I have ever tasted before. I could feel my skin glowing, buzzing with electricity as I drank more, saliva mixing with blood at the thought of the taste of his flesh. I couldn’t imagine how tasty he’d be if his blood was this sweet. But as he finally stopped flailing around in my tight hold, something sharp pierced my neck. It was plunged deeper and the sudden pain shooting through my body made me release the pirate and scream loudly, the sound echoing around in the water, getting everyone’s attention around us. It was loud and filled with pain and I tried to swim away, panicked, but something grabbed my tail and started pulling me upwards. Bubbles left my mouth as I screamed for help, but Serena was nowhere. I knew nobody else would help me. Despite the fresh energy coursing through my veins, I felt power slipping from my fingers and tail as it went numb, the water around me colored a deep red. I was loosing blood dangerously fast and when my head suddenly hit the surface I choked, breathless and kicking around to get back underwater, but I was pinned against the sand. Someone was coughing on top of me, wheezing and groaning in pain. Our eyes connected for a second, revulsion reflecting on both of our faces, before I gasped for air, the world going black around me.

Falling unconscious in water could be just as scary as falling unconscious on land for a Siren. We could breathe underwater, but still needed to come up to the surface to take in some fresh air, or else our lungs would start burning, making us choke like any human being. Falling unconscious on land, however, nobody knew the repercussions of it as we’ve never ventured close enough to find out, but it most certainly meant death as our bodies dried up fast, scales itchy and head dizzy from staying out of the water for too long. So, waking up panicked and confused was rather understandable as I kept banging against something hard, my body curled up as if I was confined in a small space. When my eyes opened, I gasped, taking in my surroundings. All I could see were men, so many of them, walking around, talking loudly, peeking at me in horror. I swirled around in the water, heart beating fast as I slowly realized what was happening. I was captive. In a glass box of sorts, enclosed in a small space. I couldn’t even stretch my body fully, tail curled up, as my box was put on display in the middle of the ship, held down by several thick ropes. I was on a pirate ship. The pirates we attacked during the full moon, were here now, holding me captive.

I started breathing fast, heart beat accelerating even more, my lungs asking for fresh air as I started choking on the water. I looked around in my little cage, and noticed that the water didn’t reach the top of the box, and there were little circles cut into the top of it in one corner. So, holding onto the glass on both sides, I pulled myself to that corner as I raised my mouth and nose out of the water, taking deep breaths of air. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, pretend that I was in the sea, coming up for some air. If I didn’t stop panicking, I would die from choking. And that was a dishonorable death for a Siren, I’d rather die at the hands of a pirate. However, my little bubble of fantasy was destroyed quickly as something starting banging against the glass, making me jump and hit my head in the top glass. I heard muffled laughter and turned my head only to come face to face with a man. He looked amused as he tapped the glass again, taunting me with his wide smile. I snarled my teeth at him, but he didn’t look frightened as his eyes ran over my body. His blond hair was longer at the back and black was smeared around his narrowed eyes. The white cloth tied around his right forearm told me that he was the captain. His mouth started moving, but the glass was thick and I couldn’t make out their words, so I watched their lips move, trying to decipher what they were saying.

“Nice catch, isn’t she?” He said to his men, who seemed afraid enough to keep their distance from my glass box, “Wonder how expensive she’ll be.”

A strikingly beautiful man showed up, his wavy black hair pulled in a ponytail, a shiny golden compass around his neck, “We’ll ask around once we dock down in the Sun Set Kingdom.” He seemed to be the least interested in me, not even glancing in my direction as the captain turned his head back at me, a menacing smirk slowly sneaking onto his face. I could feel myself itch from his gaze, fury and helplessness overtaking my body.

“Thanks to you I’ll be filthy rich, gorgeous.” It was as if he knew I would understand his words, his lips articulating his words slowly and obviously, making me scream out. The pirates held onto his ears as I screamed, starting to throw my body against the glass. I wouldn’t let them sell me off to anyone. I couldn’t die like this. This would be a disgrace to my species, centuries of anguish to follow. If the world finds out we truly exist, we’ll be hunted down for the mere sick enjoyment of humans, eliminating our species. I couldn’t be the cause of it, the thought made me sick. It didn’t matter that my body was aching from how violently I was throwing myself against the glass, banging on it with my fist, even trying to break it with my tail knowing it was strong, but nothing was working. It seemed that it was unbreakable, but the mocking laughter of the pirates egged me on more to keep on trying, refusing to appear helpless and frail. As my lungs started burning from exhaustion, I knew I had to stop and take a breath, there was suddenly commotion in the crowd gathered around me. I pushed my head to the little circles, and took deep breaths, watching what was happening. A man appeared to be pushing everyone out of the way, screaming something. I tried to make the words out, but all I got was ‘stop’ and ‘get away’. The voice sounded almost familiar and when I turned around, my eyes fell on a very familiar face. I gasped as my icy blue eyes widened, dark brown ones staring back just as shocked. I snarled my sharp teeth at the pirate, hitting the glass with my fists, hatred radiating off of me. He was the reason I was here. He was the pirate I tried to kill, the one I bit, but then he stabbed me, brought me to land, and captured me. My eyes fell on the bandage around his neck and it made me touch my own neck, feeling the bump of a wound. It seemed to be sealed, and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at the pirate, who seemed to be watching my reaction. I snarled again, and crashed against the glass, trying to scare him off like I did to the others who have already scattered around, but this pirate didn’t budge, he kept on watching me, eyes slightly wider. He seemed to be amazed, eyes taking in my body, freezing on my tail for a second, making me crash it into the glass, the pirate jumping in reaction. I was glaring at him hard, baring my teeth at him when he stepped closer to the glass, a hand touching it. His eyes carried resentment as his lips opened, “You should’ve swum away when I snapped out of your song’s control.”

I understood, because he mouthed it slowly, his eyebrows furrowing when I didn’t react. I just turned my head to look away, done with entertaining him. He did not deserve my attention. He made me wonder how he snapped out of the daze induced by the Siren song, but he’ll never hear my voice ever again. I wasn’t going to utter one word to these monsters. Despite the pirate’s fascination with me, he didn’t seem too keen of me, as I watched him walk up to an older man, who was holding a wooden cane, the resemblance between them quite obvious. So, his father survived too, what a pity.

Time seemed to jumble together, I tried to keep up with the rising and setting of the sun, but after a few days I lost count of it. I assumed I had been on this ship for around a week now. The Raging Sea could be tricky and hard to navigate, yet these pirates somehow sailed it without many difficulties. They seemed to avoid the storms best and travel around them, their navigator quite talented. Perhaps if I had known that their navigator was the pirate who captured me, I wouldn’t have thought that about him. The Sun Set Kingdom and the South Kingdom weren’t very far from each other, if you were lucky enough you could sail through the Raging Sea in two weeks, however, the constant storms made it sometimes impossible to get through it. Sailing out into the Black Ocean was even more dangerous due to its huge creatures, best you could do was say a prayer and hope someone in the Heavens blessed you to have an easy adventure, that is, if you believed in such a thing. Humans easily believed in anything, you just needed to appear even a little bit confident when trying to sell your idea, and there it was: a new belief, a new tale. I suppose the confirmation of our existence would just send them into a frenzy of confusion about what was real and what was not. Humans were afraid of the unknown, and I was considered already a dangerous creature. The fearful glances of the pirates working on deck never seemed to cease and if I happened to be looking at them, they’d shudder and look away, avoiding eye contact. I knew the fact that I was a Siren wasn’t the only scary thing about me, without my songs, my appearance was rather odd than beautiful.

However, there were some more daring pirates, who seemed to fear no God or even their very own Captain. I heard it loud and clear when he shouted that nobody was allowed to get close to the glass cage, touch it, or even think about opening it. I was a prize he wanted to sell, assuring his riches for a lifetime. However, three pirates seemed to be stupid enough to not listen to their captain as one evening, while I was thinking about the ocean, they approached me. It was a windy evening, waves crashing into the ship, rocking it left and right, yet the sky was clear and non-threatening for now. Here, the weather changes abruptly, but this being my home, I knew it wouldn’t storm just yet. My skin wasn’t as smooth anymore as it used to be, the water they kept me in stale and rather smelly. I was lucky they were smart enough to allow me to breathe fresh air, as I found myself needing it more often than usual. Being out in the sun all day long was taking its tool on me as well, my body not used to the constant heat. I would sit on rocks quite often, but never for too long during noon, and then I would retreat to the depths of the sea, where it was cool and dark. I sighed loudly as I watched the waves crash against the side of the ship, some water getting on deck. My hand reached out, almost as if I had forgotten I couldn’t reach it, missing my home like crazy. I probably should enjoy the little time I have left of being close to water, once we hit land, there’s no guarantee to what’s happening to me. Letting my guard down, thinking that I was finally alone on deck, was a mistake. I started humming to myself, missing the voices of the other sirens and our little games of hide and seek. Our songs weren’t just for luring in the humans, it allowed us to communicate between each other as well. The melody I was currently humming was the one Serena and I would sing whenever we finished hunting and were searching for each other, making sure we were alright. I could imagine her singing it after our last hunt together, never getting a response. At least she knew I was gone and she wouldn’t search for me, stray away from the swarm and endanger herself.

The sudden crash of something hard against the glass made me jump and I whirled around fast, eyes falling on three pirates who were smirking and slurring their words. They were swaying as they stood, probably drunk, holding tridents in their hands. One of them had a giant key in their hand and my eyes went to the giant padlock holding the top of the glass secured to the rest of it. I knew these dumb pirates could hurt me, but if I outsmarted them, I could escape. So I watched them innocently and figured out that they wanted to kill me before we’d get to land and sell me themselves, betraying their Captain. I chuckled, knowing very well they were just as dead as me once their captain finds out they are traitors. The one holding the key pushed his mate forward, and he crashed into the glass. He stared at me frightened and when I smiled and raised my eyebrows at him, his eyebrows furrowed. The other man, who was clutching his trident harshly, kept his distance, visibly afraid. The pirate with the key went to open the padlock, and that’s when I started humming loudly enough for them to hear me. Their bodies tensed, eyes widening as I lured them in with the song, eyes softening, lips pulling into a smile. The most frightened one dropped his trident and fell to his knees as he crawled towards the glass cage, watching me mesmerized as I got closer to the glass, bewitching them. The other pirate pushed himself against the glass, his weapon still in his hand, but he had obviously forgotten about wanting to kill me. The one holding the key, however, moved accordingly to my own will, leaning up on his tiptoes, hands gripping onto the padlock as a rather harsh wave crashed into the ship. I didn’t let that distract me as I continued singing the lullaby, pitch higher than before, icy blue eyes glowing in the dark. The three pirates became my puppets and I could feel my heartrate pick up as the one with the key finally inserted it into the padlock and slowly started turning it around. I pushed myself against the glass, hands on the top of it to break free once the padlock is unlocked, but the serenity and spell broke when someone came rushing down the stairs, screaming.

It was that one pirate again, my pirate. The one I almost killed, the one I wished nothing more than to kill. He almost fell off the stairs as his feet tangled together in his rush, a thick looking notebook clutched tightly in his hands. He was screaming at the pirates to stop listening to the song, but it seemed as though they were too deep in to even hear his words. So I continued my song, smirking at the desperate pirate as he shook the one holding the trident, and once he realized what was happening, tried to stop the one from opening the padlock. I was so close, one more click, and I’d be free. I started pushing against the glass, struggling to open it, I was so close.

“Kim Hongjoong!” The familiar pirate shouted at the top of his lungs, physically having to remove the pirate from the padlock, fighting against him as he cried out that he needed to open the lock. Seven other men came bustling down the stairs, eyes wide and sleepy as they assessed the situation. Everyone but the captain seemed to be wearing more casual, comfortable looking clothes, as they realized what was happening. I raised my voice higher, louder, allowing my voice to travel to their ears as well, watching as one of them tensed, appearing to be in a daze.

“No! Stop listening to her!” My pirate screamed again, somehow pinning the one with the key against the floor boards, struggling to hold him down because of his violent kicks and screams, “Think about something, don’t allow her voice to get inside your heads!”

But that one pirate seemed to be already under my influence, and I beckoned him over with the wriggle of my finger, a smile appearing on his lips, “Take Wooyoung away!” A taller man next to him, who seemed to be struggling against my lullaby as well, grabbed Wooyoung and dragged him away, slapping him hard when Wooyoung started screaming that he had to get to me. It all happened quickly, the remaining five pirates helped out my pirate in keeping the man down, taking the key from him and handing it to the Captain. His body seemed to be shaking, forehead sweaty as he approached me, eyes ablaze. He was fighting the siren’s song, but was close to giving up.

“If you don’t stop—” He gritted out, suddenly raising a shotgun against the glass, “I will kill you this second.”

Dying by a bullet wound seemed unworthy, but at least I wouldn’t get exposed to the horrors of other humans on the mainland. It seemed like a reasonable death all of a sudden, so I didn’t stop, just continued singing and closed my eyes. I heard the click of something, and I knew it was coming.

“No! Stop, Hongjoong!” I knew that voice, it was that pirate again, “Don’t kill her, please!”

The melody froze in my throat, eyes opening and falling onto that one pirate again. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was breathing hard, clutching that notebook again, looking at the Captain with pleading eyes, “Please.”

I took the momentum to my advantage and tried to open the top of the glass again, but the Captain acted first, locking the padlock again, throwing me million steps away from my escape. I screamed and bashed myself against the glass again, wanting to tear their throats apart. The pirates who came here initially to kill me snapped out of their dazes and looked around them frightened, bodies shaking as one of them started crying. I snarled and whipped my tail at the glass, making them jump.

“What were you doing here?” The Captain demanded to know, voice commanding. The three pirates lowered their eyes to the ground, shaking their heads and saying nothing. I glared at them, hissing when they wouldn’t state their reasons. My pirate noticed my anger and looked at me, approaching the glass cage. I refused to look at him, he once again stopped me from escaping.

“I asked a question!” The Captain shouted and the men shook their heads again, bodies shaking. I went to take fresh air again, lungs beginning to burn from exhaustion and my eyes fell on the Captain. If my Siren song couldn’t cause chaos, my words definitely would.

“They were here to kill me.” All heads whipped in my direction, shocked at the hear of my voice. It wasn’t as majestic as my voice when I sung, it was rather husky and scratchy, my throat currently burning too.

“She can speak?” One of the pirate’s who came down with the Captain wondered out loud, dumbfounded as he looked at me. But that was all I would say.

“Of course, she can.” The familiar pirate spoke up softly, eyes finding mine, “The only difference between a mermaid and a human are the tail and legs, San.”

The pirate looked at me as if asking for confirmation, but I just averted my eyes, disgusted by his attempt of making conversation with me. I was not a mermaid, I thought that was clear by now.

“Judging by your current positions and your missteps in the past,” The Captain spoke up, jaw clenched and eyes glaring down at the three pirates, “I’m ought to believe the monster.”

These humans were the real monsters, not me, “She’s not a monster!” My pirate snapped; eyebrows furrowed as he looked at me. Why was he defending me? What was it in for him?

“Whatever, Jongho,” The Captain muttered tiredly, “Takes these three to my office, I’ll take care of them.”

And just like that, one by one, all pirates retreated back to their previous activities, neither throwing a second glance my way. All except one. The one I tried to kill, the one that tried to kill me, my pirate. He lingered behind, almost by the stairs when suddenly he ran up to the glass cage, tapping the window softly. My eyes pierced into his as I glared at him, snarling.

“My name is Jongho,” He said cautiously, almost afraid to do so, “And yours?”

Siren’s names were sacred, so I huffed amused and turned around, ignoring his burning gaze on the back of my head. I refused to let him know my name. Realizing he wouldn’t get an answer, he walked off, notebook already opened as he made his way up the steps, a pen in his hand. He was peculiar. His resentment towards me was very obvious, yet his eyes held fascination each time he looked at me. I couldn’t decide whether he wanted to kill me or protect me.

And it only became more confusing as the week went by and this pirate continued to approach me more than once a day, talk to me, ask me questions. I didn’t answer him, I didn’t even listen to him at most times, glaring and imagining all the ways I would rip his throat out during the next full moon. I couldn’t bear being in this cage anymore. My bones were aching, my tail was numb from not using it for so long and the smell inside started making me nauseous. The circles allowing the air inside seemed to be getting smaller, suffocating me rather than offering fresh air. I was slowly going mad, banging against the glass, desperately trying to break it. I needed to get back into the sea, I had to save myself.

Two more days passed by barely, nothing happening as the pirates carried on with their usual shenanigans. My pirate, Jongho, as he had called himself, seemed to be glued to the glass cage, refusing to even sleep in his usual place, afraid someone would try to attack me again. I didn’t understand his concerns and why he was going out of his way to keep me safe when it was clear he hated me for what I did to him. I hoped he knew I would do it again, no feelings of any sort tying us together. A soft-spoken pirate, whom I noticed would check up on Jongho’s wound from time to time, seemed to be the only one able to convince the pirate to retreat to his quarters and leave me alone, scared for his safety. Jongho refused him numerous times at the beginning, but when the strikingly handsome pirate interjected with their conversation, Jongho finally seemed convinced enough to leave me alone. I couldn’t have been more thankful for the two for making the man leave, I have had enough of him. He talked a lot. He asked a lot of questions. But I also noticed he muttered a lot to himself whenever he was working on the maps, making strange lines with some sort of pencils and rulers. His eyebrows were always furrowed when he watched the stars with his binoculars at night, checking the direction of the wind every half an hour. If something seemed to confuse him, he’d curse to himself quietly and would start from the beginning, never giving up. The other pirates seemed to rely on him a lot, I figured that he was probably their navigator, his father helping him out from time to time. The two seemed to be quite close, often helping each other out. Jongho’s father was repulsed by me, it was quite obvious, and he screamed at his son often for not staying away from me, scared that I would bewitch him again, but Jongho remained persistent and kept on insisting that someone needed to keep an eye on me and who was better than him? Apparently, he knew everything about my species there was to know. I highly doubted that as all these stupid pirates seemed to think I was a mermaid, but Jongho was right in one thing. He somehow became immune to my Siren song, blocking his mind from my melody’s allure. I did not know such thing was possible, and even Jongho seemed surprised at his discovery. The thick notebook was with him at all times, and I found him doodling something in it while sneaking glances at me. I did not want to know what it was, I just wanted to be free.

And it seemed like my wish would become reality faster than I thought so. Except, it wasn’t exactly in the way I imagined it to be. And it just so happened on the night Jongho decided to finally leave me alone. But that was perhaps better, because I was woken from my slumber to the violent rocking of the boat, and fireballs flying in the air. I watched with wide eyes as a fireball flew over the deck, dangerously close, yet missed anything important. I didn’t understand what was happening until all the pirates ran up on deck, each holding weapons of all sorts in their hands. Most were shotguns and the tall one who took Wooyoung away seemed to be the one in charge of all the gunners. He was shouting orders left and right, instructing the rest of the men when to fire and when to duck down. He seemed to be the most skilled as his shots never missed their target. When another fireball wheezed through the air it crashed into the mizzenmast and broke it in half, sending flying wood all over the deck; I finally realized the ship I was on was under attack. An enemy was trying to kill us. I started laughing bitterly as a pirate screamed, his clothes caught on fire, barely believing that I would die from getting attacked by an enemy ship. It was the most hilar thing in the whole four seas and four kingdoms, I couldn’t believe it was real. Well, if I had luck, then I would die and if I was unlucky, then I’d be taken by the enemy ship and either sold off or killed on the spot. My future didn’t seem too bright at the moment and I found myself laughing at the chaos unfolding around me. I was right in the middle of it, yet remained safer than anyone else on this ship. I watched as the pirates protected their ship fiercely, the captain and two other men on his right and left, leading their crew and throwing small things overboard, them exploding once they landed on the other ship. I figured they were some sort of explosives; I have never seen them with my own eyes. I watched two men trying to fix the damages at lightning speed, one was the soft-spoken man, thought he was called Yeosang, and the other one seemed smaller than a regular man, but it wasn’t my place to question their appearance. I watched Jongho do his best in getting the ship away from the enemy as fast as he could, Wooyoung next to him, barking orders, pulling on several ropes as he was trying to fix the sail of the mizzenmast. Another hard rock of the ship sent the pirates tumbling down and I crashed into the glass rather aggressively as one rope holding the cage stable broke. I watched wide eyed as nobody paid attention to me, a siren being least of their concerns right now. And to my utter shock, three bullets came flying into the glass, but it was so thick that they remained stuck in it. I watched amazed as a thin crack ran from one of the bullet holes down to the bottom of the glass. This was my chance to free myself. Nobody was paying attention; nobody was here to stop me. Freedom was just a few steps away. So, gathering all my energy, I started throwing myself against the glass, groaning and panting when the little crack didn’t seem to expand. I was growing frustrated and I screamed and I whipped my tail against it with all the force I had left in my body, but nothing happened. I felt helpless, useless, and defeated. Cannonballs going off from underneath us deafened the humans on the deck for a second, my sensitive ears started ringing. I have never cried in my life before, but for the first time, I felt a lump in my dry throat, squeezing and squeezing. I had to try once again, get out of this prison. So, once again, I banged my tail against the glass, letting out a frustrated wail as nothing happened. The cannons went off again, shouts coming from all directions on the deck, and then something miraculous happened. The Heaven’s listened to my cry of help.

The glass started breaking more, the little crack growing, expanding all over it. I took a deep breath and held it for a second, placing my hand against the broken glass, lightly pushing it, not expecting much. But it broke. To a million of pieces, the salty water crashed against the floorboards and so did I, falling face first onto it. I gasped loudly, my heart beating fast as the muffled screams and shouts loudly enveloped my surroundings all of a sudden, the rocking of the ship more violent and real, now that I wasn’t confined inside the glass cage. The chilly air hit my skin like rocks, and I gasped for air, lungs filling to the brim with clean and fresh air. Breathing has never felt so good before. I couldn’t believe I was free. I didn’t even notice the shards cutting into my skin as I pushed up onto my forearms, wincing at the sudden pain shooting up my tail. My numb body was finally able to move, I could finally stretch out. I could finally escape. But as I started crawling towards a hole in the side of the ship, the pain in my tail became more and more unbearable, making me let out a painful scream. It paralyzed my whole body and I started shaking, scratching at the scales covering my body, itching terribly. What was happening to me? Was it because I was out of fresh water for so long? Was I dying? And as the pain became unimaginable, veins showing through my translucent body, head thumping and eyes popping out of its sockets, my body started convulsing. I couldn’t control it, all I could do was take it in, accept it, and scream. But my throat was so raw, no sound made it out anymore. I wanted to reach the water; I needed it. The Sea would heal me, the Sea would save me. Something started streaming down my cheeks and I would’ve laughed if I could’ve, I was crying. Sirens never cried.

And as my back arched of the floor, hands clawing at anything they could, it all stopped suddenly. My mouth was open, about to let out a gut-wrenching scream, but it all stopped. It just…stopped. The pain. It went away. As suddenly it came, as suddenly it went. I was gasping for air, touching my face and neck. Something felt wrong. My body…felt heavier. My tail…I couldn’t feel it. So shooting up in a seated position, I screamed at the sight. My tail was gone and instead two dangling abominations took its place. I had legs! I started shaking my head, muttering no to myself over and over again, pinching the skin and crying out when it hurt. I could feel them, but I couldn’t move them. They were so heavy I didn’t think I could even stand. How was this possible? Where did my tail go? Was I no longer a Siren anymore? My heartbeat picked up at the thought again, and I turned around, eyes falling on the sea through the hole. I needed to get into the water right now. But as I wanted to turn around and continue crawling, a burning wooden plank from the mizzenmast broke off, plummeting straight towards me. So, this was it, I would die on a pirate ship as a human, bringing shame to my people. I closed my eyes, unable to save myself, awaiting the excruciating pain, the heat of the fire, but it never came. Before the burning plank could kill me, a body crashed into mine, making me yelp, as we tumbled to the side, tangled together. I lightly hit my head in a barrel and groaned, my body feeling numb from the torment it went through in the past few minutes.

“Why wouldn’t you jump away if it’s falling straight at you—” The panicked voice stopped screaming suddenly, pushing themselves off me, “It’s—you?”

I turned my head and came face to face with a shocked Jongho, wide eyes running over my body before he stiffened and his face became red. He suddenly stood and ripped his long coat off of himself and threw it down on me, turning away, “Put that on.”

Despite the chaos going on around us, I looked down confused and realized I was totally naked, oh. I chuckled, finding the whole situation hilarious as I pulled Jongho’s coat over myself, mimicking the way he wore it.

The blast going off not too far away from us sent Jongho into action, making me gasp and tense, when one of his arm’s went around my torso and the other underneath my now, legs, more specifically knees. I started pushing Jongho away as he held me firmly in his arms, baring my teeth at him, about to sink them into his neck, but he threw me a glare and hissed, “Stop it, will you! I’m trying to save you!”

His words made me freeze and I stared at his profile as he ran around the pirates, avoiding bullets and explosions as he brought us to relative safety, having run down the steps, placing me down next to them. It seemed like I weighed nothing to him, he showed no signs of struggle to hold me despite my heavy good for nothing legs.

“Stay here until I come to get you.” He pointed a finger at me and hesitated for a second, until I nodded at him. Where could I even go? I couldn’t walk or run like him. My legs weren’t usable, they were an abomination, turning me into a freak I never was. I allowed my thoughts to take me away from the reality I found myself in, tunning out the battle sounds, cries and shouts. All I wanted was the sea and my tail back.

I had no idea for how long it lasted. Or how many died. Or if anyone even won. What was the reason of this attack? All I knew was Jongho coming back and lifting me up in his arms again, as if I was a feather, taking off towards another set of stairs. I held onto him tightly, watching his clenched jaw, his skin glistening with sweat and eyebrows furrowed. I had no idea where he was taking me or what he’d do to me, but I had no energy in me to fight back. I was even more useless now that I had legs. The ship seemed to have quieted down, no more screams and shouts, no more cries of pain, no more gunshots and cannonballs. The fight was over.

Jongho kicked a door open with his foot, and my eyes took the room in quickly, figuring it was a living quarter of sorts. There was a bed fit for one person, a huge desk littered with maps, notebooks, books, pencils and pens and ink. The floor next to the desk had even more rolled up papers, maps and books. There was a closet too, not too big, and next to it a wooden chair. The tiny window allowed me to see the moon, and I sighed as Jongho placed me down on the bed. It felt weird, the texture underneath my legs. It was soft and it didn’t hurt me. I touched it with my fingers, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s called a blanket.” Jongho muttered as he started unbuttoning his shirt which was covered in dirt, sweat, and even blood. My eyes pierced him, watching carefully his every move. He turned around before opening his shirt, obscuring my eyes from the sight of his torso as he walked to his closet, opening it. He pulled out a clean looking shirt and dropped the one on him onto the floor, the muscles of his back showing. He was well built and strong looking, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he carried me so easily. The view was gone as Jongho pulled the black shirt over his body, doing the buttons up to his chest. He grabbed another shirt from the closet and walked closer, his eyes watching me carefully. He was wary, as he should be. I was also wary of him; I couldn’t know what he’d do to me if I didn’t stay alert.

“Put this on,” He spoke up, handing the shirt to me, “I’ll be right back. You need more fitting clothes of which I don’t have.”

And with that, he turned around and quickly left, not closing the door fully. I stared at the shirt for a few seconds before deciding to put it on, the coat currently on me offering no warmth, I was freezing all of a sudden. I mimicked Jongho’s actions, pulling the shirt over my back once the coat was off, pushing my arms through the sleeves of the shirt, and one by one started doing the buttons. They seemed a little difficult at the beginning, but I got the hang of it as Jongho came back inside, eyes falling on me. Since I didn’t know how much I should button up, I stopped at my chest, looking up at Jongho when he cleared his throat.

“That’s too low for you.” He muttered and placed the soft looking garments in my lap, hands going to the buttons of my shirt. I recoiled and he pulled away quickly, holding his hands up, “I’m sorry, but you should do two more buttons.”

I just stared at him, with no intention of doing what he just told me, making Jongho sigh. He slowly approached me again, hands going to the buttons, letting him touch me this time as he made quick work and did the two buttons he said I should do. My eyes fell on his chest, on the black pearl he had on the string around his neck. As he went to step back, my hand flew out swiftly, gripping the pearl and stopping him. Jongho froze and fell forward a little when I tugged on the pearl, examining it from up close. He was hovering over me, arms in the air once again, eyes looking at the wall as my nose scrunched after smelling the pearl. It seemed to be authentic, and it was a black pearl. Those were really rare.

“My father and I used to be fishermen when I was younger,” Jongho spoke up, making me look up at him, “I like collecting pearls, that’s why I have this one. It’s rare.”

I nodded and slowly released the pearl, eyes never leaving Jongho’s. He gulped and pointed at the things in my lap, “There’s undergarment and pants, you should put them on.”

I looked down at them and gripped them, holding them up to my face. There was a thing which seemed to be smaller than the other one.

“The smaller one is to protect your genitals, and the other is to cover your legs. They are called pants.” Jongho explained as I had no idea what I was supposed to do with these, and looked back at him, but he had already turned around. I frowned, not quite understanding why. I placed the pants on the bed next to me and held the smaller ones up, looking down at my legs. How did I even moves these things? I bit my lower lip, trying to lift them, at least one of them, but they weren’t moving. Why? They must work like arms, so I tried again, but they didn’t even lift an inch off the bed. I groaned frustrated, but Jongho remained with his back facing me.

“I can’t—” I croaked out, embarrassed, “I can’t put it on.”

Jongho sucked in a breath, “Why?”

“I don’t know how to move my legs.” I whispered; eyebrows furrowed as I stared down at my lap. Jongho whirled around, eyes wide and a shocked expression decorating his face. He seemed embarrassed, as if what I just said was normal.

“I didn’t think you’d—I’m sorry.” He apologized, making me look at him confused, “Of course, you don’t know how to move them…may I help?”

I bit my lip and contemplated a little, nodding at last. I wouldn’t be able to do it without help, if he was offering it then I would take it. He seemed a little reluctant and hesitated when I reached my hand out holding the smaller pants, his eyes avoiding mine as I looked at him. He took it and then got down on his knees, fist clenching before his hand touched my calf. I gasped and gripped the blanket on the bed, skin very sensitive on my legs.

“I’m sorry!” Jongho apologized quickly, looking at me with a panicked look in his eyes.

I cleared my throat, “The skin is sensitive, that’s all.”

He looked at me for a second, before nodding and proceeding with his previous actions. He lightly touched my left calf before gripping it, his cold skin making goosebumps erupt all over my body. The feeling was new, unknown, intriguing. I watched as he tried to avoid skin contact as best as he could as he placed my legs through the holes of the small pants and then started pulling them up my legs, stopping bellow my thighs. He gulped and his eyebrows furrowed before he looked up at me, face flushed.

“I can’t—I can’t pull it all the way up if you’re sitting.” He seemed flustered; I did not understand why.

“Well, I can’t stand up.” I muttered, and Jongho nodded, seeming to think for a second.

“I’ll support you and then you can pull it up yourself.” I nodded at the solution and watched as he gulped again, his finger lightly grazing my thigh as he stood, gripping my forearms before he helped me up. I tried to stand on my own feet, but they weren’t working, without Jongho’s support I would’ve fallen. I gripped the smaller pants and pulled them up until they allowed me to, noting how Jongho was looking over my head, eyes never falling on me. These legs weren’t long enough as I appeared to be a lot shorter than him. I cleared my throat and he glanced down at me cautiously before sitting me back down and doing the same with the real pants this time, these being a struggle a little bit as they were tighter. The feeling was totally new, warmth covered my whole body, finally I stopped shivering. The pants seemed comfortable enough as they hugged my legs and I touched the fabric, hardly believing that I was wearing one. The silence was interrupted as hurried footsteps ran down the hallway, nearing the room we were inside, and the door was kicked open. I jumped at the loudness of it, eyes falling on seven other men. They were the same men that came up onto the deck the night those three pirates tried to kill me. The Captain stepped inside, followed closely by the strikingly handsome one, and the others seemed to push each other around in order to see inside the room. It was a peculiar image as one of them cried out before kicking the other one for biting them in order to get them out of the way. Did humans also bite each other? To my knowledge, they didn’t feed off of blood.

“Where’s the mermaid—”

“Hongjoong, I told you she’s not a threat—”

“Is that the mermaid?” The Captain asked horrified once his eyes fell on me. I looked at him with a glare, fed up with them using the wrong term about my species.

“I’m not a mermaid.” I snapped, flashing my sharp teeth at them, “I’m a Siren.”

There seemed to be a moment of silence filled with shock before the man standing behind the Captain spoke up, “Where’s your tail?”

I scoffed, slapping my thigh, instantly regretting it as pain shot through my muscle, “I would like to know that too.”

The Captain walked closer, grabbing my chin tightly, making Jongho protest, “Don’t be smart now, monster, what did you do to your tail?”

I slapped his hand away and hissed, annoyed that this man wasn’t afraid of me anymore, “I cut it off.”

I heard chuckles coming from the doorway, the other seven men looking at each other amused as Jongho seemed unimpressed and the Captain, drew his sword out, “Your legs will be the ones cut off—”

“Captain,” The strikingly handsome one spoke up calmly, placing a firm grip on the Captain’s shoulder, “I think she’s honest. She made no attempt to walk away from the falling plank back on the deck, meaning she’s never had them before”

The Captain huffed and placed his sword away, shaking the other man’s hand off himself, “Then where is her tail, Seonghwa?”

The two men looked at each other, but the handsome one, Seonghwa, shook his head, “I do not know, Hongjoong, I did not see what happened.”

Silence fell over the room, everyone confused as to how to proceed, until Jongho spoke up, “She could be shapeshifter. They have a tail in water and legs on land—”

“I’m a Siren.” I snapped, shooting him a glare.

“Is this your first time out of the water?” He asked and I looked away as I nodded, not too happy about admitting to personal things about myself in front of a pirate crew.

“You could be a shapeshifter siren, then—”

“Ten seconds ago you still thought I was a mermaid.” I threw Jongho a glare and he sighed, massaging his forehead.

“That is not exactly true,” He tried to defend himself, “Based on my studies you exhibited no behavior of mermaids, so I knew you were something else—”

“Mermaids aren’t even real—”

“Enough!” The Captain exclaimed and both Jongho and I shut up, looking at the wall, “I don’t bloody care what you are, just get that tail back so I can sell you.”

I snarled at the Captain and would’ve clawed his eyes out if I could walk to attack him, “Everyone, get back to your posts, we have a long night ahead of us to fix the damage Lee Yuri left behind.” The Captain’s mouth twisted, seemingly disgusted at the mention of the woman, his expression annoyed. Everyone yelled a ‘Ai, Captain, ai’, and then started leaving, but Jongho was stopped from doing so.

“Not you, mermaid boy, keep an eye on your monster.” The Captain said, holding him back from leaving the room. I sighed at the use of that term again, fed up with it.

“She’s a Siren, not a monster.” Jongho muttered as the Captain left too, slamming the door shut behind him. I looked at Jongho and he sighed, looking at me.

“You can sleep meanwhile I check the maps; I promise not to touch you without your consent.” Jongho said as he walked closer, making my eyebrows furrow.

“I’ll bite your finger off if you touch me while I sleep.” I threatened menacingly, making Jongho chuckle as he helped me lay down.

“I do not doubt that.” He whispered more to himself, pulling the blanket over my body, the feeling foreign. The bed felt comfortable. Very warm and cozy. It also smelled like salt water; it reminded me of the sea I missed so much. I sighed and closed my eyes, my back facing Jongho as he sat down at his desk, papers shuffling.

“You can call me Y/N.” I found myself whispering, making up a name on the spot. I would never let a pirate know my real name. Jongho hummed and said nothing, the sound of scribbling resounding in the room. The soft rocking of the ship quickly lulled me to sleep.

Time moved faster than the ship we were on, slowly, we were approaching the Sun Set Kingdom. You could see the shore in the distance, it would take around three more days to reach the mainland. I couldn’t ignore my feelings of distress whenever the topic was brought up by Jongho, who by the way, kept me prisoner in his room. Everyone else seemed afraid of me, not forgetting that I was still a Siren as a few days ago the tall pirate, who’s name I learned was Mingi, mocked me that I was a regular human now, so, I almost made him jump into the shark infested water, proving it to them that I was still a Siren. Jongho was rather appealed each time someone called me a monster, defending me, leaving me confused each time. He seemed to have gotten used to my presence in his room and spent most of his time with me willingly, either scribbling in that thick notebook of his, silence engulfing us, or he would ask me outrageous questions about my life. I rarely answered him, throwing him a glare each time he’d bring up the Siren topic, which he seemed to be obsessed with. Despite my protests, he also started feeding me fish, seemingly thinking I was some sort of pescetarian…that is until I threw up on him, he finally stopped playing smart with me. After that I explained, once again, that I only ate during the full moon and my meal was human flesh and blood, not fish. Those were my favorite’s and anything else made me sick. Jongho seemed terrified a little bit when he learned this information, muttering something as he started writing in his thick notebook. I started figuring out that he was probably noting down everything I said, it was probably his diary. His father, however, hated me and had a knife pointed at me each time we crossed paths, saying that he’d slash my throat if I dared to lay a finger on his son. To my amusement, I told him that I had to touch Jongho quite often as I couldn’t move on my own, almost getting my head cut off if it wasn’t for the Captain screaming at the man to stop. They were still trying to figure out how to get my tail back, and it was rather hilarious as I sat on top of a barrel, watching the men throw ideas at each other.

“Here,” The smallest looking pirate approached me, handing me a dark colored fabric, “They are undergarments, Jongho told me he borrowed one from me. You can’t have just one though.”

I took in the pirate’s appearance, the long curly hair and feminine voice confusing. Her hair was a vibrant red and her lips were plump, a little gap between her two front teeth as she smiled at me brightly, “What are you?”

The pirate chuckled, looking at a man who was carrying a list in his hands, checking the barrels on the deck, immersed in his job, “You’re quite brazen, aren’t you?”

“Am I supposed to be any other way?” I asked confused, not quite understanding this weird pirate. They just shook their head, pulling the bandana wrapped around their head off.

“I’m a woman.” I watched her open her shirt, showing the fabric wrapped around her breasts, flattening her chest. I knew she wasn’t a man, her voice too soft and face not as harsh as a man’s.

“Then why are you pretending you’re not one?” The woman chuckled as she buttoned her shirt up, making eye contact with the man checking the barrels. His lips pulled into a soft smile, eyes lingering on her for a second too long.

“It’s a long story, but I’m not pretending anymore.” She explained, reaching her hand out, “My name is Taeri, by the way.”

I looked at her out stretched hand and nodded, not quite understanding what I was supposed to do. She chuckled amused and took my hand, making me hiss, and shook it, “Don’t hiss at me and introduce yourself.”

I snatched my hand out of hers, not understanding her weird gesture, “Stop commanding me, my name is Y/N.”

Taeri ignored my words and stepped away, looking around on the deck, “Can you walk?”

“Not without support, Jongho’s been trying to teach me but I don’t want to walk.” I muttered, crossing my arms in front of my chest as my eyes fell on the mentioned pirate, he was checking his map again.

“You’re lucky you’ve got Jongho,” Taeri said quietly as she leaned closer to me, “The others wouldn’t treat you so kindly.”

“I do not care how I’m treated,” I snapped, eyes glaring at the woman, “I belong in the sea, not on land, but your Captain is hungry for a prize he will never get. I am worth more than anything in the four seas and four kingdoms.”

Taeri chuckled patting my cheek, making me pull my head away, “I like a woman who knows her worth.”

Before I could say anything else, she stalked away towards the pirate who had stopped checking the contents of barrels, and they started conversing as the man pulled her slightly closer to himself by her waist. I watched their interaction closely, noting how comfortable they seemed to be in each other’s proximity. The woman didn’t flinch at his touch, she even seemed to be enjoying it. The man was smiling at her and he adjusted her bandana before grabbing her hand and pulling her with him, headed towards the stairs leading downstair. Human connections seemed more complex than the Siren ones. That couple appeared to be…quite fond of each other.

“It’s time for your daily walking lesson, Y/N.” I jumped at Jongho’s voice being close to me, having not noticed him approaching me. I looked at him, analyzed his stance, and noted how relaxed he seemed. He was smiling as he extended one hand, even looking excited. I couldn’t exactly understand why this man seemed so amazed by me, always watching me closely, and paying attention to everything I said or did. He always apologized if he touched me unannounced and kept asking me if I was alright while he did so. I didn’t like people standing too close to me, but Jongho’s constant questions were irritating as I found myself more accepting of his proximity. He wasn’t as bad as the loud pirate he seemed to work with the most, Wooyoung. The first time he tried to touch me, I punched him in the face and ever since he’s been glaring at me whenever we made eye contact. I wasn’t some sort of animal put on display for others to touch or talk to whenever bored.

However, the little freedom I seemed to have was quickly taken away a few nights ago as I had attacked Jongho while he was asleep. I had warned him before, that if he ever fell asleep around me, I would attack him, but apparently he thought I was joking. I found it rather annoying as the Captain placed handcuffs around my wrists, securing me against the leg of the desk Jongho had in his room. He growled at me that he’d kill me if I dared to harm his crew even once more, making me chuckle as I started humming, warning him that I was still a Siren, and I could still make them do whatever I wanted to. Jongho had started training them in how to block the Siren song from getting to them, but the Captain seemed to still have trouble with it, so I loved antagonizing him. The attack I conducted on Jongho which led to my current predicament was a mere experiment, I felt like checking if I still had it in me. I was woken from my slumber by loud snores coming from the desk behind me, and when I turned around, I found Jongho with his head on the desk and eyes closed. I watched him, confused by the sounds he was making, until I realized it was probably snoring. He looked serene in his sleep, body fully relaxed. I could’ve easily ripped his throat out, so enticed by the thought, I found myself sitting up. I still couldn’t walk on my own, these legs were just too heavy for my body, but if I leaned against a wall and held myself up, they worked pretty fine. The were still sensitive and my feet would hurt if I stood on them for too long. I didn’t know having legs was this exhausting. After I reached Jongho, surprised that he didn’t wake up as I crashed into the wall and even fell a few times due to the rocking of the ship, I leaned my head close to his. I gripped the desk tightly, eyes trailing his smooth skin, missing my own being like that. My body was doing a lot better than I expected out of water, but it felt dirty and extremely dry. Drinking water strangely seemed to hydrate my skin though. Jongho sighed loudly in his sleep and my eyes fell onto his neck, the scar of my teeth never disappearing. The wound has healed, but the scar remained. I had a scar on my neck too because of him, at least we were sort of even. Jongho’s eyebrows furrowed and suddenly his eyes opened, making me take action. As he stood up straight, I gripped his neck and squeezed it, snarling at him as his eyes widened. He looked confused as he tried to pry my fingers off himself, making me chuckle. When I showed him my sharp teeth, his body tensed and suddenly he jumped up, twisting my wrist with one hand, making me hiss in pain. I couldn’t exactly react as he gripped my neck and suddenly my head was pinned against his desk, cheek getting squished.

“What in the Heavens are you doing?!” Jongho snapped, voice laced with fury and bewilderment.

“I told you I’d kill you if you fell asleep while I was in the room.” Jongho chuckled amazed, unbelieving what he was hearing. I smirked, but it was quickly wiped off as the door opened and his father walked in. He quickly created a big scene, totally unnecessary, and ten minutes later I was chained against a desk, forced to sit on the floor as the chains weren’t long enough to reach the bed. Hongjoong said if I behaved like an animal then I’d be treated like an animal, and after that I barely saw Jongho anymore, Taeri being the one checking up on me from time to time. She said we’d dock down soon, making me nauseous. That meant I was dying soon.

I had fallen asleep after Taeri’s visit, head resting against the wall as my lower back seemed a little numb from always sitting. This human like body was a rather painful experience. My head banged against the wall and I woke with a start, startled by the screaming coming from above me. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, and realized the ship was rocking terribly from side to side. Something wasn’t right, I could feel it in my bones. I quickly looked outside through the window and saw darkness covering the sky, rain falling rapidly. We had run into a storm. I looked around the room, realizing there were very low chances of survival on this ship, so I needed to leave now. I could use my legs this time, support myself against the wall, and just jump into the water. I had no idea what would happen if I did so, but I hoped I’d get my tail back. I tugged on the chains, but obviously they were too strong for me to break, and suddenly, my eyes traveled up to Jongho’s desk. Underneath all the papers, a shiny thing peaked out. The key. I gasped and leaned up, grabbing it, and hurriedly undid the chains around my wrists. I smiled in victory, excited to finally leave these awful pirates behind, excited to return back home. I could hear the Sea calling me as I carefully stood, trying to find my balance despite the harsh rocking of the boat. It was hard, but I wasn’t about to give up.

Finding support in the wall was hard, but I found myself out in the hallway, half dragging myself half actually taking steps as I walked. It must’ve been a hilarious view, but it was the best I could use my legs. The shouts of orders got louder and louder as I made my way up the stairs, only being able to take one step at a time. My thighs were a little bit numb by the time I made it all the way up the two flight of stairs, feet aching. I did not understand how humans were able to stand on their feet all day long. I had to grip onto the railing tightly as the waves rocked the boat aggressively, struggling to stand up straight. I peaked my head through the corner and watched as the pirates tried to hold the sails still, the Captain trying to steer the ship away from the storm, but that was impossible. At this point, they had to ride it out, we were too deep in it. I took in the situation, wondering whether these men and Taeri would survive this storm, so close to the mainland, yet so far away. What a pity. But once again, I had to take advantage of the situation and I made my way onto the deck, the rain hitting my face, making me look up at the sky and laugh. I haven’t felt water on my skin in so long. It didn’t feel like the salty water that I have missed so much, but it still felt majestic. My clothes got soaked in mere seconds and I fell onto my knees as a wave crashed into us harshly. But I had to get up, so I did, I gripped a barrel and pulled myself up, eyes falling on the railing. I just had to get to it, and from then on, I was free. I have never been so close to freedom before. And so, I started taking baby steps, legs and core tense as I tried to keep my balance, having to forget about the support of other things around me as I had to cross through the middle of the deck. But as I was walking, amazed by myself, someone blocked my path making me look up at them, their breathing ragged.

“Good, you’re here,” The pirate shouted over the loud thunder, and my eyebrows furrowed, “The more the merrier! I need you to tie those barrels against the mainmast, fast!”

He pushed a thick rope in my hands and my eyebrows furrowed as I watched the pirate run off, helping his mates in need. He was the man Taeri seemed close with, his name was Yunho, she has told me. I felt frozen to my spot as I gripped the rope, eyes falling on the three barrels Yunho was talking about. I wondered if he realized that I was the Siren and just went on, asking for help. I did not understand why, but I found myself walking towards the barrels, the rope already wrapped around the mainmast, I just had to push the barrels closer to it and secure the rope around them. It was rather hard, I could barely walk, let alone push some heavy barrels. And yet, I found myself on my knees, pushing with my whole-body weight, groaning when the barrels barely moved and the rain made it hard to see, the waves constantly making me lose my balance. This seemed to be an impossible task and I stopped, catching myself. Why was I helping them? I was their prisoner. They deserved to die. They took me away from my home and they want to sell me. If anything, their deaths will only bring satisfaction, not an ounce of regret or sadness. So I stopped. I dropped the rope and pulled myself up, ears picking up on a frustrated cry. It was a familiar voice and I looked in their direction, eyes falling on Jongho. He was by the railing, pulling on the rope of the mizzenmast’s sail, as it had sprung free from its place. He was screaming at Wooyoung to bring five men and help him tie it back before the wind rips their sail apart. There were tiny rips in the main sail already, which wasn’t a good sign. I took one step, two steps, three steps, and suddenly, my body was thrown against the wooden floor, head crashing against the barrel I was holding onto. Suddenly, everything was hazy around me, voices muffled and head throbbing. I couldn’t feel my legs nor my hands as I gasped for air, blinking but not seeing. Panick seeped through my body, hard to breathe all of a sudden as I clawed at my neck.

“Hey, hey!” The voice shouting seemed to be at a distance and I felt something colder than the rain pressing against my cheeks, “Y/N, hey! Calm down, you’re alright!”

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut together, when suddenly I felt a light slap on my cheek, the person talking to me demanding me to open my eyes. My eyebrows were furrowed as I forced my eyes open, seeing but black dots covered everything; Yunho was the one holding onto me, “Take deep breaths!”

I did that and found my vision clearing a little bit, but it was still hazy. There were zero chances that I could stand up with the nausea I was feeling. I have never been this sick.

“Everyone get under deck!” Suddenly a strong voice shouted over the thunder, “Right now!”

People started abandoning their previous tasks as everyone hurried underneath deck, but Yunho stayed by my side. He figured I couldn’t walk and suddenly I was hoisted up, carried towards the stairs as he looked around frantically.

“Yunho!” A feminine voice called out behind us and Yunho turned around, letting out a deep breath.

“Come on, Taeri!” And the woman caught up to us and held onto Yunho’s bicep as the three of us left the deck, me confused about what was happening. The hallway was filled with the pirates, everyone panting and drenched.

“We can’t stay up there anymore, nothing we do can save the damage.” Hongjoong breathed out defeated, eyebrows furrowed, “All is left are the prayers.”

A deafening silence fell over the hallway, nobody saying anything as their fates sunk in. I gulped, suddenly feeling the doom looming over our heads. I would survive it; I was a Siren. But nobody else on this ship would. My eyes ran over the people’s faces, searching for only one. Jongho. He seemed nicer than anyone else on this ship. He treated me decently when everyone else called me a monster and was afraid of me. I found myself thinking about how he didn’t deserve a harsh death. He taught me how to walk. He tried to feed me; he brought me water. He dressed me up and always tried to keep his distance if it wasn’t necessary to be physically close. He told me stories of his life before he became a pirate, how his father and him would spend their days on a boat fishing. He loved pearls and even showed me his little chest filled with them, wanting to give me one but I didn’t want it. He was hardworking and dedicated, very good at his job. Yunho suddenly placing me down snapped me out of my thoughts and I realized how fast my heart was beating. I was scared…but not for myself. For Jongho.

“Where’s Jongho?!” And as if the Captain read my thoughts, he called out. Everyone started looking around frantically, checking who was standing next to them.

“Jongho?!” His father called out, pushing people aside as he looked for his son, eyes wide and frantic, “Where’s my son?!”

I gulped, doom settling in the pit of my stomach. Jongho wasn’t here. And he wasn’t on deck. And if he wasn’t here and there neither…he was in the water. I gasped and felt my body tense up as I grabbed onto the wall harshly and started moving without a second thought. I never knew legs could be this strong, they didn’t hurt as I found my balance without holding onto anything. I pushed the few people standing in my way aside, making eye contact with the Captain before I started hopping up the stairs. I couldn’t run, I still didn’t know how to move my legs accordingly, but this was the fastest I have ever moved. My legs carried me back onto the deck and my eyes settled on the water. There was nothing and nobody stopping me anymore from jumping in.

“What are you doing?!” I heard Hongjoong shouting after me as I gripped the railing, heart beating like crazy. The water has never looked more inviting than right now, and without a word, I found myself leaning over the railing, arms out stretched as I fell rapidly towards the water. I was smiling from ear to ear, waiting for the moment when my skin finally made contact with the water. And when it did, all my worries seemed to disappear. I gasped, bubbles surrounding my body and sticking to it, everything so much quieter underwater. My ears stopped ringing, my hair regained its glow and my skin felt new, clean, fresh. The heaviness bellow my waist disappeared and when I looked down, the ripped pieces of the pants floated away, my long and strong tail replacing my atrocious legs. I started laughing, tearing the shirt off my body, a lump in my throat forming. I was a Siren. My tail was back. I didn’t turn human. I was free. I started moving my tail, chuckling at how easily it moved, how light I felt again. But my moment of euphoria was interrupted by screams of help, making me turn around as my eyes fell on human legs. It was Jongho. And he was still alive. I swum over faster than ever, but when I tried to get onto the surface, a huge wave crashed against me and sent me deep underwater, away from Jongho. I shook my head and hissed, searching for him as I couldn’t see him anymore. My glowing eyes seemed to be of no help all of a sudden. I thought he was forever lost, swallowed by the depths of the sea, but I caught his body. Little bubbles left his mouth as he was being pulled deeper and deeper by the current. It looked like he wasn’t even fighting back, face almost serene as he accepted his fate. My heart clenched and I found myself near him in mere seconds, his eyes closed. I panicked, but knew it still wasn’t too late as I could hear his heartbeat now that I was back in the water. I grabbed Jongho’s cheeks, making his eyes fly open in shock, and pressed my lips against his. He didn’t seem to understand what I was trying to do, so I forced his lips open with my tongue and blew air inside his mouth, supplying his lungs with enough air for us to get to the surface. Jongho seemed be dumbfounded as I pulled away and wrapped my arms around him tightly, swimming towards the surface, feeling where the current tried to take us, but fought against it. Our heads popped above the water and Jongho took a deep breath, slightly choking as he started coughing and he clung onto me as I stared up at the tall ship.

“Kim Hongjoong!” I screamed as loudly as I could, allowing my Siren voice to carry it to the ship, above their deck. It didn’t take much for the Captain to look overboard and once again, I screamed, “Go to the kitchen window! I can hand him back through there!”

The Captain said nothing but I knew he understood as he disappeared from the railing, I looked at Jongho, who was smiling in awe at me, “Take a deep breath.”

He sucked in a deep breath and we submerged underwater again as I swum around the ship, towards the kitchen window. Jongho didn’t stop smiling and when I pushed him towards surface, he gripped my arms tightly and pulled me above water too, panting as he stared into my eyes deeply. I didn’t move as a wave hit us, but had to hold onto Jongho to keep him above the water, his body not strong enough to do so. The kitchen window wasn’t open yet, it took some time to get there from the deck. Jongho’s warm brown eyes were soft as he tried to push his hair out of his face, watching me.

“You’re so beautiful.” I felt my body warm up at his words, a little taken back by them. Despite knowing I was a beautiful creature, his words seemed to have an effect on me. I knew my eyes were glowing and my skin was almost translucent again, yet Jongho caressed my cheek and pulled me in. His warm lips were cracked from him biting them so much, but their plumpness made them softer than I imagined they would be. I found myself kissing him back eagerly, wondering where these desires were coming from. Our lips moved perfectly against each other; the waves not even capable of breaking us apart. Jongho held onto me tightly, lightly shuddering from the coldness of the water, holding my cheeks firmly. It felt overwhelming to be held like this, to have lips against mine, to have someone like Jongho call me beautiful. He was the beautiful one, in fact. I’ve never seen a human like him before. So joyous of what life had to offer him. Friendly and accepting despite the strangeness of my nature to him. When I pulled back, I couldn’t breathe properly. I never knew a kiss could steal your breath away. I gazed at Jongho starstruck and he chuckled, planting a shorter but strong kiss against my lips again. I suddenly wondered what love felt like. And if the person who loved you gave you kisses like Jongho’s all the time. How would Jongho be if he were in love with you? Sweet, attentive, and loving?

I could hear the pirates struggling to open kitchen window, they were annoyingly loud. I didn’t want our little moment to end, but I had to hand them Jongho. He was a human, and I was a Siren. We were creatures different from each other. Our lives had no future if intertwined. It was best to let go while you could.

“Sunmi.” I said to Jongho as I heard the window opening, “My name is Sunmi.”

Jongho’s eyes widened at the hear of my real name. One night, when he wouldn’t stop asking me questions, I decided to tell him that the name I told him to call me by was fake as Siren’s names were sacred and only their swarm knew them.

“We’re here!” I heard Hongjoong screaming from above us and I turned around, looking at them. Yeosang, who despite seeming so soft was awfully strong, was leaning out the window, being held by Mingi and Yunho. Hongjoong was also leaning out, held down by Seonghwa and the one pirate who thought I couldn’t speak, San. Jongho and I shared one last look before I swum him closer to his mates, raising him out of the water as best as I could, until Yeosang and Hongjoong were able to hold him by his arms.

“Goodbye.” Jongho mouthed to me and I smiled as I watched him being pulled back to safety, the window slamming shut once his body disappeared through it. I jumped back underneath, swimming further and further away from the ship, feeling the sea calling out to me, guiding me towards my home.

I knew one day Jongho would tell his children about his encounter with a Siren, and if they happened to follow their father’s footsteps and sailed out onto the Ragging Sea, I would make sure to save them if needed, like I have saved Jongho.

Next part (divider)

179 notes · View notes