#from eden au

[simplepotatofarmer]

c!techno resting his chin on the top bunny hybrid c!dream's head and dream flicks his ears into techno's face on purpose and techno just chuckles and gives him a little kiss on the top of his head and dream goes 'ughhh techno' but he's smiling.

#loyal talks about stuff and things #what if i love them for ever and ever #c!dnb #from eden au

[3000-200-grains-of-salt]

babe, there's somethin' tragic about you

This pose and palette came to me in a vision while listening to from eden, so of course i had to draw it! i haven't made hels to pay fanart in a bit but it still occupies my mind rent free. In fact this AU is so good that it lives in its own private penthouse in my brain sipping bourbon and eating figs drizzled with honey, i love it so much

Outstanding AU written by the brilliant @aquaquadrant and illustrated by the skilled @lunarcrown!

{textless version under the cut}

#ive been listening to from eden NONSTOP like its a problem #tw eyestrain #seattlesaltsartowrk #hels to pay au #hermitcraft fanart #hermitblr #tango tek #tango fanart #tangotek #hozier lyrics #hozier

[kaleidoru]

"I'll make them all pay."

#anthro #furry #lion #dragon #angel #oc: samael #oc: sam #oc: mikail #oc: miki #so i had an idea for an AU where Sam discovers what the Council and Angel-Demon War has been doing to his son #and nothing ends well for the angels nor demons #(the shears Sam uses have always represented like... removing things from Eden but also cutting a thread of fate short like the moirai)

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 19

PREVIOUS

There’s a couple things about FF that might be good to know at this point.

1. There are few things in the world he hates doing more than asking for clarification or admitting he doesn’t understand / know something. The thought of going up to someone and admitting that he hasn’t perfectly comprehended the situation upon the first explanation is something makes his stomach twist like he’d just eaten Mango-Habanero ice cream.

He has figured out his own math theorems in the pursuit of not having to ask the math teacher to explain he doesn’t understand. He got lost in an Ikea once for over 6 grueling hours where he considered making a home there and living among the display rooms until his grandma grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to safety (the food court) and let him regain his strength (eat Swedish meatballs). He, to this day, is not sure about one of his foreign language friend’s names (how embarrassing he just keeps waiting for someone else to say it but they go by some insane nickname).

So he has become a master of piecing shit together on his own. He sometimes gets it wrong (Andrew, god how embarrassing) but for the most part 8 times out of 10 he can get to the right answer if he just has a couple pieces to work with. No one had ever actually explained to him how Exy works and he was too embarrassed to ask after the third week of practice in middle school so he just pieced together what he was and was not allowed to do through the art of trial and error. He’s even mostly pieced out the rules for the other positions.

So with the information he has gotten through people being bound and determined to talk in foreign languages in front of him he has an idea about the tenuous situation some of the older Foxes find themselves in.

He’s heard Kevin Day and Jean Moreau talk in French.

He’s heard that the anxiety in both of their voices as they talked about their futures and owing 80% of their salaries to the ‘Moriyamas’ and how nervous they were about getting on professional teams or else they’d be killed.

Captain Neil and Andrew are not always using Russian to talk dirty.

He’s heard Andrew soothe Captain Neil’s worries about playing for a professional team. He’s heard Captain Neil mention that at least ‘Ichirou’ would likely just kill him and not make a game out of it like his father did.

Organized Crime might have more to do with Exy than FF had originally thought.

(He had thought it. Plenty of times he had thought it but his Gran had warned him that he was overthinking things. That he wasn’t playing a sport invented by the Mafia. That he had caffeinated coffee instead of decaf. “It’s going to be okay sweetie. Just take a deep breath.”)

This leads into the second thing you should know at this point.

2.  Before he had signed with Wymack he had known the broad strokes of Captain Neil’s life. There had been a lot of news articles about it and Gran (bless her) loved trashy gossip magazines.

After he had signed with the Foxes he had done a bit of a deep dive on as many of their controversies as he could find. There’d been things from brawls on the court (worrying), player overdoses (concerning), a straight up MURDER (Oh god), and the very public breaking of the King of Exy’s arm resulting in his suicide (Warranted, that wacko was going to take off Captain Neil’s HEAD.)

But the thing that had made him actually a little bit, dare he admit, excited to go to Palmetto was the fact that Captain Neil was there.

For someone who froze for almost a decade, who just took it and didn’t have the balls to even react? Neil Josten is an inspiration.

This is someone who got away, who lived a life completely unlike FF’s, someone who knew how to run and more impressively someone who learned how to FIGHT. Captain Neil was being hunted but he still ripped people to shreds in interviews. Captain Neil was probably more scared of the Butcher than FF had been of anything in his entire life but Captain Neil was way braver than FF could ever hope to be.

Captain Neil was taken and tortured but he still fought. FF had seen the scars and Captain Neil is right to wear them proudly (though based on some conversations he has unfortunately overheard he is sure Andrew may have a role in Neil’s positive feelings about them).

FF had thought that he was being lead to his death down in a basement of a club (Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t cringe. Don’t-) and he just trailed right behind the two of them without even an illusion of a fight.

Neil Abram Josten was a bit of a personal hero.

He’s proud to call him Captain Neil. He wishes Andrew hadn’t been there when Greg had mentioned wanting autographs because FF wants an autograph from Captain Neil but now Andrew has probably mentioned it to Neil.

Long story short, FF had looked into a lot of details on Captain Neil’s case.

Including two of the Butcher’s top men who were still on the loose.

Romero Malcolm and Jackson Plank.

He keeps his presence low but no matter how many times he blinks the man grumbling in Italian next to him continues to be Romero Malcolm.

Moreover Romero Malcolm continues to grumble about the fact that he is having a hard time finding ‘Nathaniel’ and that he’ll have to grab one of ‘The Wesninski brat’s friends’ to draw him out.

FF is a recently confirmed friend of Captain Neil.

FF who is standing next to this man, with his dick out, and trying to remain as invisible as possible.

After two shakes (Yes he was watching but only because he had to! He wonders briefly if he goes to the FBI if they would accept a description of Romero Malcolm’s penis for the wanted poster? Probably not but it is BURNED into his retinas.)

He watches as Romero tucks, zips, and then bypasses the sink entirely.

FF shivers at how unhygienic that is. Who RAISED him?

The door shuts and FF needs to get out of here ASAP but his hands are shaking with the sudden adrenaline of ’One of the FBI’s Most Wanted just took a piss next to me and is looking for me friend’. He pulls his phone from his pocket and ducks into one of the stalls. Even if there’s no door it’ll at least FEEL a little safer, a little more private. He needs to warn Neil, Warn Andrew, and warn-

The door to the bathroom SLAMS open and music blares in (palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy-) and his phone slips out of his hands and into the toilet. There are footsteps coming towards him and FF digs deep.

He’s in ultra stealth mode. He is the wall behind the wallpaper. Mantis shrimp can only dream of the color he becomes, the United States military have the CIA on the look out for him because he’s fallen off all conventional forms of radar and tracking.

He is a bargain fruit platter on a dessert table at a kid’s birthday party.

He is ULTRA stealth.

Romero’s gaze glides over him.

Then the man leaves (STILL DID NOT WASH HIS HANDS).

His heart is hammering in his chest but he manages to reach down and grab his phone. Well, Coach Wymack had gotten the extended warranty at least. (“Do you know what these fuckers do to phones? Josten crushed his last year in a fight with the Baseball team captain.”)

His phone’s extended dip into the toilet water had not done it any favors in working properly.

Well fuck.

He wipes his phone down the best he can. He wipes his phone down with some toilet paper before cramming it into his pocket (Sorry Nicky, he’ll wash the toilet water pants if they survive).

He sees a flyer on the wall of the bathroom and starts to think of a plan.

He rushes out of the bathroom (he still washes his hands because he will not have something in common with a man on the FBI’s most wanted list and he just dipped his hand into a CLUB TOILET) and clocks Nicky’s wild arm movements and WORSE clocks Romero just 10 clubbers away.

He sees Romero’s eyes lock onto Nicky and a smile that terrifies him.

He’s out of Ultra Stealth Mode even if every atom in his body wants to run.

He is so stressed and panicked that he has gone beyond his body’s ability to process that so all that is left is determination. He’s got a head full of a half-baked plan, a hand going to his pocket, a second hand on the only ‘weapon’ he has on him, and a stomach full of acid.

He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he can really let himself think about it and walking up next to where Romero is standing. He holds his toilet water phone up to his ear and does the one weird social anxiety thing that he had never done before.

He pretends to be on a phone call.

“Hey Captain Neil,” he says and in the corner of his eye he can see Romero’s gaze shift from Nicky (surrounded by an adoring public, covered in sweat and therefore difficult to grab - a difficult target) to himself (alone, shorter, and probably looking like he’s about to pass out). “Yeah I think I’m going to take a break outside after I grab quick drink and then a water at the bar.” He says because he has to be the easier target and he has to go to the bar. “Yeah, yeah, okay I’ll mention it to that bartender guy.” He says and pretends to hang up.

He turns and he walks towards the bar and feels his pulse in his throat go to the beat of the music (success is my only motherfucking option, failure’s not).

He only knows about the alley because in the car ride to Sweetie’s Nicky had mentioned that he wouldn’t let FF’s first time be out there. He had been embarrassed but it was the only way he knew to get Romero out of the club and away from where he could hurt Captain Neil or anyone else in the pursuit of that.

He spots the bartender who had gotten the drinks for their table and his mind completely blanks on the name but the bartender sees him and smiles. “Oh you’re Neil and Andrew’s new friend! What can I help you with? I thought you were-“

“Hi, yes I am Captain Neil and Andrew’s friend.” He says a little loudly because he can feel Romero behind him and he does NOT want the man to know anything about where Captain Neil was.

“Captain Neil? Oh wow that’s adorable.” The man gushes. “What can I help you with? I won’t ask for ID for one of their friends.” He winks.

“I’d like to order the uh…” he tries to remember the exact drink name from the flyer, “…the deluxe chocolate martini?” He asks and knows he got it right when the bartender’s expression shifts ever so slightly.

“Oh yeah, how do Andrew and Neil feel about that?” He asks and oh great a coded conversation. It’s nice to actually be having a real one of these for once instead of just perceiving normal conversations to have hidden meanings.

“They don’t know. They probably prefer that I order it instead of Nicky or Aaron.” He lets his eyes dart to the wide where he believes Romero is watching him.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” The bartender says, “Nicky knows how to handle a drink and Aaron’s not a lightweight either.” He adds.

FF struggles to find a coded way to say ‘It’s not that someone’s hitting on me too hard like the flyer mentioned. It’s that there’s a mafia hitman in your club.’

Finally after a moment, “It’s not the usual kind of drink they get.” He tries and the bartender looks confused by the statement, dammit. He struggles to find a different way to say it before the bartender smiles.

“Y’know you’re really cute.” He reaches under the bar top and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. “How about you write down your number for me cutie? We can meet up sometime.” He says. “I’ll get started on that chocolate martini for you.” He says.

HE COULD KISS THIS MAN.

“I’d like that.” He says.

He writes out a quick message on the small note paper.

‘Armed. After Neil. Looked at Nicky. I’m going to the back alley. Phone is dead.’

The bartender comes back and looks at his note. “We’re out of chocolate martini mix, can I get you something-“ He hopes the club lighting obscures how pale the man got, “something else?” He asks and FF can SEE his pulse.

“Can I just get some water then?” He asks.

The bartender nods and pulls up his phone and hopefully is dialing the police and hands FF a water. His hand grabs hold of FF’s “You don’t need to go out into the alley. You could hang in the backroom with me?” He offers.

There really are some kind people in the world.

“I think it’s better if I’m not in here for a bit.” He says back and honestly he needs this kindness and he has a spare bit of courage, “What’s your name by the way? Sorry I missed it.” He says.

The bartender swallows, “It’s Roland.” He says.

“Thanks Roland.” He twists the cap off of the water bottle and takes a sip.

He turns and pretends not to notice how Romero is trying to be inconspicuous pretending to be on his phone.

He makes his way over to the alley door and notices that Romero is tracking his movements but is not following him like he did to the bar.

His heart is pounding and he can’t BELIEVE he’s doing this. He wants to run, wants to hide somewhere, wants to become imperceptible but…but…

He opens the door to the alley as the bass of the remixed song finishes.

(You can do anything you set your mind to, man)

He lets the door slam behind him and he is alone in the alley.

He was not expecting a van to come to a screeching halt in front of the entrance and for a different face to appear climbing out of the car.

Jackson Plank.

FF looks at the ugly smile on the man as he walks towards him with a knife in hand.

Okay now what genius?

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

5/26/23: EDITED. Can’t believe I forgot to put the Captain in front of Neil’s name on the meme. I’m blaming the accidental early awakening.

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion​ @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themugglemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio​ @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe​ @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Lillyndra it worked this time!!!

#Fluent Freshman AU #Is it a songfic chapter if it's only 3 lines? Experts aren't sure #Did I listen to lose yourself a lot while writing this chapter? Perhaps #If Nora mentioned something about Jackson or Romero in her extras I did not read it #Also gonna be honest here and state that I forgot the likely year that AFTG happened in and this is happening in 2010 #So I guess this AU also involves a slight time shift #Andrew and Neil may have gotten lost in one another's eyes a bit down in the speakeasy #Really they're just being polite to get all of their PDA out of the way while FF is taking what might be the piss of a lifetime. #(They have no idea how accurate that might be) #Andrew is all set to kiss one of his favorite of Neil's freckles (yes he has ordered them from favorite to lesser favorite) #Then his phone goes off #He looks and it's Roland #Andrew: WTF is Roland trying to call me? #Nicky is busy being the Dancing Queen. If someone plays ABBA he will absolutely scream rn #I had considered a whole sequence of FF trying to get Nicky and Aaron to the safety of the backroom in Eden's #And Nicky just keeps reappearing on the dancefloor while FF is looking for Aaron #I was gonna use that simpsons meme where Moe throws out Barney and then Barney is just right back in the bar #But it got a little too crazy #But just know in this AU Nicky is canonically an excellent escape artist #Maybe Erik went through a bit of a magician phase and Nicky was DELIGHTED to be asked to be his assistant #Maybe that's how they got together #The inherent ROMANCE of magician and assistant #I don't remember if they ever really said in the books or nora's content #If I'm rambling because I forgot to shut off my alarm (Memorial Day 4-day weekend baby) #The fate of FF's phone may have been caused by some slight anger towards my own #RIP FF's Wymack phone (July 2010 - November 2010) #AFTG #AFTG AU #Andreil #FF - Pt.19

[elalalune]

"To relieve their suffering... You're kinder than you appear, arent you."

( 07 ghost AU )

(Link of the twt thread for my ideas for the au in the comment section)

#trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #millions knives #knives millions #vash the stampede #vash #kv #plantcest #my art #I recc the song From Eden by Hozier for this au 🥹🥹 #nai as verloren and vash as eve for those who read 07ghost manga

[tightjeansjavi]

From Eden | AU Pirate! Joel Miller x Mermaid f! Reader

A/N: at long last, we have arrived. This fic was totally self indulgent for me as mermaid lore and pirates has always been a huge interest for me ever since I was a child (I blame pirates of the Caribbean) this is my first time dipping my toe in fantasy writing, but I am so excited to share this with you all. 🏴‍☠️🖤

~word count: 6.6k~

Summary: a prince with a desire for a new life, endures on a journey he’ll never forget. A journey that ends with you by his side always.

Warnings: angst, swearing, implicit smut, ambiguous ending that leads the reader to decide what has become of Joel, mentions of drinking, mild violence, awful mothers/fathers, arranged marriages, pirate talk, death, grief, magic, fantasy, mermaid lore, old English (that may or may not be historically accurate) reader has no physical description, no use of y/n minors dni! (+18)

The sea calls to me, mother. It beckons me. The salty breeze whispers my name. Do not fret where I have ventured. Tis be only in vain. Mourn me not for my departure. I will not live a life I wish not to live. I desire adventure and friendship. I do not wish to be pacified by marriage, and the duties forthcoming with it. I disdain the thought of growing old and grayed without discovering what the world has to offer. I will bear you no grandchildren, and our lineage will wash away with the tide. Pity me not, for I pity you. Leave thou tears unshed, for I will not shed my own in the thought of you.

-J.M 1721

On the eve of Joel’s wedding, under the flickering soft glow of candlelight, the husband-to-be dipped his feather quill lightly into the ink reservoir. He pondered what words would flow onto the parchment resting below his palm. The seconds ticked by as he sealed his destiny in ebony ink. Annabeth would find better. Someone more suitable for her mundane needs. Joel would not be her husband, she would not become his wife.

“My lady, does your mind ever drift and dream of faraway adventure? Does your heart not shriek in the darkest of night for more than these measly castle walls have to offer?” He gingerly took her hand in his own, fighting the bile that rose in his throat as his eyes drifted down to the ring presently shimmering on her finger. The ringer he dutifully betrothed her with.

“My prince, my only wish is to be your dutiful wife and bless you with as many sons and daughters my body can carry. Tomorrow brings new beginnings. In the evening light we shall be married, and you will bed me as you please. Is this no longer what you desire? My prince, what has become of thee?” The backside of her dainty hand rested upon his forehead for she was afraid he had come down with a delirious fever.

“Annabeth, my flower, I wish to see the world. I wish to know what lies beyond the steady horizon. To taste the sea upon my lips, to clench the sand beneath my palms. You speak of me as your prince, but I wish to not be addressed as one. I do not wish to bed thee.”

“Thou speaks evil upon thy tongue. My prince, oh how you wound me so. I wish not to be in a loveless marriage with a man who yearns for the caress of the sea. Why must your heart and mind wander? Why must you disobey your mother’s wishes? Have I not devoted myself to thee?”

A heavy sigh through the evening breeze. Joel’s forehead came to rest upon her bosom as his lashes fluttered shut. “Dearest Annabeth, thou hast not lived in happiness. Thou has lived by her mothers law since thou was just a babe. How cruel that you are expected to marry not out of love, but for status. Dost thou truly want to live a life imprisoned by marriage?”

She wept silent tears for she did not want to be married to a man that did not love her. She did not want to bear his children. She had dreams of a life far richer. Far away from silver platters, incessant lectures, and garments far too tight to breathe in. Her chin fell to rest upon his head as salty tears rolled down her cheekbones.

“My prince, I have always dreamed of becoming a poet. Mother disapproves. She believes that women cannot be anything but wives and mothers. I do not wish to bear children. It is expected of me, but I loathe it.”

Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to the soft skin between the valley of her breasts where a smooth silver pendant lay. “Thou mother is an impudent cunt.” She giggled softly at his quick tongue.

her fingers threaded themselves through his hair, twisting ringlets mindlessly. “Mother would have thy tongue for use of such foul language.”

He snorted. “Dost thou disagree? Annabeth, it is just you and I in the gardens this evening. No one shall reprimand thee for speaking the truth.”

“My mother is a foul, loathsome, impudent cunt.”

“Recite it again, my flower.”

“My mother is a cunt.”

“Encore” he hummed.

“My mother is a cunt. I detest this all-too tight dress, and I do not desire to marry thee.”

“Bien joué, ma fleur”

“My prince, I thought thou despised French studies?” She pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Oui, mon chéri.”

She sighed, soft and gentle as she laid back into the soft cooling grass, gazing up at the glittering sky above. Joel followed her body, resting the side of his head in the lap of her flowy fabric dress.

“My prince, where will thou venture?”

“Tortuga, my flower. There I will be a prince no more. My lineage will fall as my mother weeps, and I shall step into piracy, and sail the high seas just as I have always dreamed.”

“Thou wishes to become a pirate?” She queried.

“Indeed. Tis true, my flower.”

“Thou shall make a handsome pirate.” She softly giggled, gently stroking his soft curls that she would admittedly miss terribly when he would depart.

“Just as thou shall make a brilliant minded poet.” He assured her.

Dark maroon wax dripped languidly along the pale parchment. Joel sealed the letter with a practice hand. His heart raced within the depths of his ribcage as the realization set in that he would be a prince no more. No more pretentious royals, no more stingy small talk, no more ballroom dances, no more lectures.

Joel Miller was to be a free man for the first time in his 17 years of life. The dying candle along his desk was blown out as the smoke curled and lingered. Below his window and past the looming castle walls, Joel could hear the sea whisper his name. In a giddy haste he packed his necessities in a leather bag. He took one last gaze over his room before departing into the ominous night.

His midnight black steed was steady under the saddle as the moonlight guided their way to the port docks. They rode swiftly and silently through the cobblestone city streets. Moving through the shadows with a soft squeeze of his inside leg to spur Hendrix forward. Joel’s horse was one of his prized possessions. A jet black colt with a tiny star being his only white marking. He would be saddened to never see his hooved companion again.

He could taste the salty sea air along his taste buds as the crescendo of crashing waves neared. With a soft tug on the reins, Hendrix slowed to a steady walk along the dock. He was so close to freedom. It was there, in his grasp as he discarded the hood of his cloak around his shoulders. Joel had studied many books on ships and how to maneuver one. It was frowned upon by his mother, so for this reason he’d sneak out late at night and find himself enriched in the library on the east end of the castle. It was now or never for him to put his knowledge learned under a real test. So much for trial and error.

“My prince?” The old sailor hobbled from the shadows of the creaky dock. A lantern trembling in his weathered grip. A quizzical expression crossed his sagging features as he watched Joel dismount from his steed.

“Thou shalt not speak of what thy has seen. I offer my horse in trade for your ship. Hurry please, my fellow. Before they become aware of my untimely departure. I have gold to offer thee as well. My horse can carry you wherever thy desires to wander.” Joel uttered, urgency stricken in his tone.

“My prince..is thee not set to be married in the morn? What use do you have for my ship lad?”

“Good fellow, I simply wish to leave the life I once knew and explore the world and all she has to offer.” He pulled out a sack of gold coins from under his cloak. “All I ask of thee is to speak to no one. Take care of my horse. He’s a good steed, and I shall miss him dearly.”

“Aye, adventure calls thy name?” The sailor pocketed the gold and grasped the smooth leather reins in his palm. “Best be on your way then, laddie. Your steed will be in good hands.”

“Bless you, sir. I wish you good fortune in your days to come.” He gently patted Hendrix along his silky smooth neck. “I shall miss you, my dear friend.”

Just like that, Joel Miller was no longer a prince. His name held a title no more. The tide pulled him out further, and further as he let out a sound filled with glee. A ship of his own to sail the high seas, what a pirate's life f’me.

In the far off distance, Joel could faintly hear the panicked bells ring. The prince was found to be missing from his bed chambers. Where had he gone? No one except Annabeth and an old sailor knew the truth of the prince’s disappearance.

Being a pirate was not all it cracked out to be. Well, in the first few years of entering piracy. His hair had grown longer, longer than it had ever been. It was speckled with sea salt and curled at the nape of his neck. The curls were unruly both from the sea, and maidens that enjoyed tugging on the strands with slender fingers. His once clean shaven face had grown into a patchy beard. The whores he bed didn’t seem to mind how it would scratch the apex of their thighs as he went to town on their pulsing cunts. He felt far more like that of a man with his facial hair. Oh the horror his mother would feel if she were to know of how her once proper, budding son became a frequent customer at one of Tortuga’s many brothels.

He always paid in gold handsomely. It drew the eyes of company that he did not wish to partake in. He was strong, sure and able to fight without breaking a sweat but as soon as a pistol was pulled and he had yet to obtain one, he quickly realized he would not be coming out of this altercation unscathed. He did however get a few good punches in before ultimately handing over the gold coins he kept on his person.

He thought he had the opposing pirates out-fooled by keeping a stash of his gold back at the inn room he inhabited..until he returned later that evening to find his room ransacked and his gold stolen. So be it, he thought. At least they didn’t take the rum.

That’s how he presently found himself in a drunken stupor, wandering the streets, getting into more fights than he could count until a fellow pirate took pity upon him one early morning…

A swift kick to his gut from a heavy boot sent Joel coughing up the rum that was still sloshing in his stomach. He groaned, reaching for his pistol but it was knocked from his grasp and landed a few feet away.

“Get yer ass up laddie.” A gruff voice spoke above him.

“Who the fuck are you—”

Another swift kick had Joel scrambling to sit up as he finally grasped his pistol and cocked it at the intruder. “I suggest ye fuck off back to wherever ye came from.” He growled under his breath.

“Yer drunk, matey. Ain’t gonna get a clear shot even if ya tried.” The older pirate crouched down to his level with a low chortle.

“What’s it to ya?” Joel snarked back.

“Ye got a ship lad? A crew?”

“Aye. I have a ship..I do not possess a crew. Do ye not have a ship? What kind of pirate doesn’t have his own ship?”

“Lost ‘er at sea I’m afraid. Ye have a ship, but be needin’ a crew. I can provide the crew if ye provide the ship, savvy?”

Joel was weary of the older pirate’s offer. He had preferred to sail the seas alone but considering his current state..what more did he truly have to lose?

“Ye have a deal.” He nodded in agreement.

“Smart lad ye be.” He helped the younger pirate to his feet, clapping him on the back stiffly.

Joel had become a seasoned pirate in a short period of time under the guidance of the older pirate. When he passed of old age, Joel became the captain. His ship and crew echoed through the Mediterranean channel. He felt that he had become unstoppable. Driven with greed and the desire for more, he led his crew to their watery grave too soon.

“Captain! She’ll never fit through! You’re goin’ to kill us all!” His secondhand warned him as they steadfastly approached shipwreck cove.

“Aye, she’ll fit! Have I ever let thee down?” His grip along the helm was steady and true.

“No sir, thee have not!”

“Hold ‘er steady boys!” Joel’s confidence wavered when he faced the cold hard truth that his ship would not fit through the rocky channel. He turned the helm sharply to avoid a collision but he was too late, the bow struck true.

“Abandon ship! Abandon ship—” his men yelled in a panic.

a deafening boom

flames

blood curdling screams of his frightened men being dragged down to Davy Jones Locker.

blood oozed from a gash along Joel’s eyebrow as he struggled to pull himself up to his feet. His ears were ringing as he took in the sight before him. Everything in his sight was burning. The wood creaked and groaned as the growing flames licked at his skin. This was the first in many moons that Joel truly felt terrified. He dove into the depths below, using the strength he had left to swim to the nearest shore.

He swore through the murky waters that he caught sight of shimmery scales..a swishing fin. Or perhaps it was his deluded mind playing a trick on him. Mermaids were just old wives tales after all. Creatures of the depths that woo men to their watery graves with alluring songs and seductive beauty.

He struggled to breach the surface as exhaustion seeped into his veins. His lungs screamed for air as he fought against the strong current with everything he had left in him. Suddenly, everything went black.

As a young mermaid you were taught to fear men, whether their ships carried white sails, or black. All men were to be feared. Your father forbade you and your sisters from ever making yourselves known to the surface world. It was too risky especially with the uprising of pirates. Your sisters like to toy with lone sailors lost at sea. They used their beauty and their natural talents of song to lure their victims to the depths.

Their song was melodious, angelic, and addictive; it was almost as if the men were under a trance and unable to escape your sister's snares. It was all a game to your sister’s of course. When your father caught wind of what your sister’s were doing in the pitch black of the night, he encouraged it.

You had no interest in drowning men. You had no reason to cause harm to another being that had inflicted no harm to you. Why couldn’t men and mermaids live in peace?

You spotted the ship crash into the rocky channel from afar. You saw frightened men jump into the sea, thinking that they would survive to see another sunrise..till your sisters dragged them to where the sunlight never reaches. Ripping them limb from limb to become mere fish food.

You witnessed the last body to hit the water from the safety of a looming sponge coral. You watched his arms struggle to pull himself to the surface, desperately clawing for air. When he gave in to what he believed to be his fate, and his body began to sink like deadweight, you made the split second decision to save this man. You swam as fast as you could, gliding through the water as you wrapped your arms around his torso and swam towards the light.

He was heavier in the water, but you were strong willed, and determined to save his life. When you breached the surface the man in your steady grip made no signs of life as you swam to the shore and hauled his body along the wet sand. You discovered that he was quite handsome, with hair that fell in ringlets, and soft pillowy lips that paired with a strong aquiline nose.

This man, pirate or not, was stunning.

Your hand gently came to rest along his cheek, feeling the stubble along his patchy beard lightly prick your skin like a sea urchin. You checked his body for injuries in a haste. Your fingers gently pushed back his hair to find the gash along his forehead. It ran fairly deep into his brow line, while crimson blood continued to trickle down his face only to be washed away by the gentle waves along the shoreline. The sea had healing properties as you knew, and the many plants that dwell below the surface were rich in nutrients, and could heal even the deepest of wounds.

You worked quickly as your fear of the man waking up was becoming prevalent when you observed his dark lashes fluttering and his body twitch. You gathered up a bit of seaweed that was used to heal open lacerations on the skin's surface. You delicately lay a strand of seaweed across his dripping brow. The blood clotted as the miracle plant adhered to his broken skin like glue. Magic, or science? The world may never know.

Your eyes zoned in on the pooling of blood through the once white linen of his shirt. There was a stray fragment of splintered wood sticking out from his side. The intrusion went fairly deep and it would require a little more work.

“Oh, fiddlesticks. I’m deeply sorry, sir. If you can hear me, I’m afraid this is going to hurt a tad.”

Am I dreaming..or is that a maiden's voice?

I must be dead, for I have never heard a voice tis so soft and sweet sounding.

With a small huff you grasped the end of the jagged wood and gave it a firm yank.

Your jolly sailor bold let out a deep gravelly wheeze as his hand subconsciously went to clutch at his side. More seaweed was gently laid upon his open wound and when you were satisfied that beautiful man would not bleed out upon the sand, you turned your body to head back to the sea.

With a flip of your shimmery tail you disappeared under the waves surface, and back to the depths of your home. You didn’t wander far as your own curiosity got the best of you. You hoped that your jolly sailor bold would awake to see another day. Perhaps your sisters and father wouldn’t send a search party for you. Perhaps they would believe you to be crushed by the bow of the ship. For now, you waded in the coral reefs below the surface to patiently wait.

Joel awoke suddenly in a disarray to his surroundings. All he could remember was his prized ship crashing into the rocky channel, his men’s frightened screams, and then everything went to black. How did he end up on the shoreline? Did he swim?..The current was far too dangerous to tread. The waves would knock him down..did someone save him? Or, was it something?

He slowly rose to a sitting position as he tried to rack his brain for any missing important details. His head turned to the side as he glanced down at the apparent indentation along the wet sand. Someone was with him. An Angel? No, it could not be. Joel wasn’t a religious man by any means. Besides, why would an Angel help a pirate such as he?

“‘Must be dreamin’”, he concluded. “Or I’m really dead. Dead as a man can ever be. Forever lost at sea.” His fingers reached up to brush his hairline where he felt a dull pain. He expected to feel the coolness of blood on his skin instead he was met with a strange slimy, yet soft texture. His hand reached down to his side where the splintered wood had been wrenched from and he was met with the same feeling.

“Blimey. What Devil’s work be this?” He twisted his body to get a better look at the wound on his side. His eyes widened the slightest when he saw the seaweed adhered to his skin. Upon closer inspection, the plant was very much still alive, and he could see the tendrils weaving together slowly acting as a suture.

Confused, and ridden in exhaustion, his body flopped back down along the sand with a soft thump. He was unsure how many hours he had slept under the gentle sway of palm trees, and the steady sea kissing at his feet. When he awoke it was due to a voice he had heard. A whisper through the thick vegetation that lay a few yards behind him. It was the same soft voice from earlier. A woman’s voice; the most beautiful voice had ever touched his undeserving ears.

Struggling to his feet, he staggered towards the voice, and used the sturdy bases of the palm trees to balance him. His body was still fairly weak, but he’d be damned if he didn’t meet the maiden that possessed such a sweet sounding tune.

As he drew nearer, the voice became clearer and easily detectable. Oh, it was so beautiful. Chillingly beautiful. It would be fairly easy for a man to be driven into madness from hearing a song so saccharine.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home

He followed your voice till he was greeted by the lagoon tucked away in the jungle. The water was crystal clear and below there were all kinds of coral and sea life thriving. What he was first to take notice of was the fair maiden that laid basking along a smooth damp rock. He could only see your upper torso that appeared to be covered by shimmering silk that wrapped around your breasts like drifting seaweed. His lips parted in surprise as he had never laid his eyes upon a maiden so stunning in his lifetime.

A twig snapped under the weight of his boot as he crept closer. You had not caught wind of your jolly sailor bold till your keen ears detected the sound of a twig snapping. It was enough to send your mind in a fury of panic as you dove below the surface. Your tail flapped as you slipped off the rock, it created a wild splash from the movement.

“Wait! I do not mean to frighten thee! Please, don’t go. Are you the maiden that saved me? I awoke on the sand..confused how I came to rest there. Please, need not to be afraid. I promise I will not harm thee.” He slowly approached the entryway to the lagoon, crouching down onto his knees.

You slowly peeked around the corner of the rock you had previously been sunbathing on. “I am the one to save you sir, but I am no maiden.”

“What are thee then? You appear to be a maiden, one that I now owe my very life to. I will forever be in your debt.”

“I am one with the sea..one of her many children that dwell in the depths below. You do not owe your life to me sir. I only wished to do a good deed.”

“One with..the sea? Is this a riddle? My head hurts far too much for any riddles, my dear. Do ye have a name?”

“Tis not a riddle, sir. For I am a mermaid. The sea is my home. I cannot utter my name to thee as it is forbidden.”

“A mermaid? Poppycock. Mermaids are just silly wives tales. I do not believe in such stories.” He swallowed a scoff that crawled up his throat.

Your tail suddenly swished above the surface as Joel clambered back, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“By god, I must be dreamin!’ How can it be? Body of a woman, tail of a fish. Are the tales true?” He asked in disbelief.

“‘You are not dreaming, sir. I am as true as can be. Do I frighten thee?”

“No, no. I am simply just awestruck. A real life mermaid. I have never been confronted with such beauty to behold.”

You cautiously swam closer. You couldn’t help but to be drawn to the thrill of danger, even when every fiber in your scaled being was screaming at you to not draw nearer. Your arms slowly rose from the surface and came to rest along the rocky shore as you looked up at him through soft lashes. “And you, are you my jolly sailor bold?” You asked softly, tilting your chin to rest upon the top of your wrist.

Joel’s cheeks inflamed. Never had he felt so flustered by another being. His hand reached up and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve never been pressured with such forward questions. Are your kind allowed to dwell with pirates?”

“For a pirate such as thee, you are quite sweet, and charming. Are all pirates like you?”

“I’m afraid not, my jewel. Most of us are quite brutish in nature. I come from Royal blood, and no matter how many years I have been away from my old life, my manners always find a way to sneak through. My men—” he paused rather suddenly. “My crew..were they saved? Please, tell me that they’re alive and not forever lost at sea.”

“Your men..didn’t survive. I’m so sorry, sir. My sisters are not as kind as I. They dragged them to the depths..ripped them limb from limb. Father would have a heart attack if he saw me conversing with you.”

“Fuck.” He whispered as he fell back onto his haunches and buried his face in his hands. “It’s all my fault. I am the cause of their deaths. If only I had listened..if only my ego did not shroud my judgment, they would still be alive.”

Your hand gently came to rest upon his arm. It caused you great distress to see another being in pain. Physical, or the mental kind, you felt it through and through. “You cannot beat yourself up over what has already been done. Not when you are still breathing air into your lungs, and tasting the sea along thy tongue. Do not weep for the dead, sir. You will see them when the time comes.”

Joel flinched at the soft contact, as it had been many moons since he felt the touch of a woman on his skin. “Joel.” He whispered. “My name is Joel, and I wish for you to whisper it as softly as thou sings.”

“Joel..I like the way it falls from thy tongue. Where doth thou wander from?..how did thou turn to piracy?”

“I like the way it sounds rolling past thy lips. I ran away from home, many years ago. I traded my trusted steed for a sailors ship. I was set to be married and live a life that I did not wish to live. My wife to-be was the only person to understand me, and my dreams. For you see, the sea has always beckoned me, and I finally answered it.”

“You ran away? That sounds awfully exhilarating. I’ve always wanted to leave my father and home behind. I suppose in a way I have, now that I am here with you.”

“Oh, it was. I still remember the rush through my veins when the sea carried me far away. All my life I had been searching for a purpose, and once I finally had it in my grasp, I could not forfeit what I always dreamed of. My jewel, why did thee choose to save me?”

“Your actions are very admirable, Joel. I struggle deeply with allowing other beings to be in pain. It goes against my nature. That is why I have never partook in my sister’s ploys. I never desired to drag lonesome sailors to a watery grave. Your life is just as special as the next. I could not bear to see thee perish.”

Your words touched a place inside Joel that no woman had dared to try and reach. It wasn’t that he was closed off to affection, he just simply didn’t have the heart for it. He bed women for an evening and he’d return to the sea the following morning. It was like clockwork. He only had felt for Annabeth, and even then he felt that it was platonic over romantic. He loved her, but not in the way that made his heart race and his palms sweat.

“I appreciate thee for saving my life. I do not feel that I am deserving to live while my men have died in a brutal fashion, but perhaps I shall take thee as a blessing.”

“Joel, every living being is deserving of life. Your woes shall burden you no longer. Doth thou wish to be happy, and at peace?”

“I wish for that, yes. How do I live with the grief in my bones?”

“You learn to forgive, and forget. You see the world for its simple pleasures of beauty, and grace.”

“Such as thee?” He boldly asked.

“If you wish it.” Your palm gently rested upon his own as you coaxed his hand from his face. “I have never thought pirates to be so..handsome.”

He leaned into your gentle cradled touch along stubble covered cheek. “How do you find such beauty in danger? I’ve killed many men. I’ve played the fool, and the instigator. I’ve made honorable decisions, and piss-planned mistakes. I am that of a scoundrel.”

“No, my jolly sailor bold. If thee were to be that of a scoundrel, you would have brought harm upon me. You are gentle at the core.” Your hand slowly drifted down to his exposed chest, feeling his heart skip a beat under your palm.

“You speak of that as a poet. I’d fancy to hear more of your honeyed voice.”

“Only if thou tells me tales of being a pirate.”

“Deal, my jewel.”

For many suns and moons, you and your jolly sailboat were engrossed in one another’s stories. He’d steal glances at your lips every few sentences as your fingers were gently toying with his soft ringlets. He’d recite to you stories of his past life, and present. Stories of adventure and thrills above the surface.

He craned his head to catch a glimpse of your shimmering tail below the surface. He was fascinated, as much as he was enamored. “Do you ever wish that thou had legs?” He softly asked as you twirled a curl gently.

“Sometimes I do wish for it. The sea has so much life and color to offer..but the surface land does spark my curiosity from time to time. I’ve seen ladies in fancy dresses upon ships with white sails. They always look so beautiful.”

“My dear, those ladies may look beautiful in their garments, they however can hardly breathe in them. You would be miserable in that life. Unless you somehow found your way to freedom.”

“Oh, would I be expected to marry for status? Not for love? I had no inclination to believe that their garments were suffocating, how dreadful.”

“Yes, your parents would have picked out a husband for you, before you’d properly experienced a childhood. You’d be forced into incessant lectures, proper etiquette, training and how to be a functioning member in society. Did I fail to mention you’d be forced to attend fancy parties and engage in mindless small talk? Life above the surface as a royal was draining at best.”

“My father has already picked a husband out for me. He is a fine merman, he just..doesn’t make my heart sing. Oh, how I’d love to dance under the moonlight. To hear a live orchestra..or an opera singer..”

Joel turned his nose up when you stated that you already had a husband picked out by the hand of your father. “I see.. Well, you did run away, did you not? You no longer have to marry. Not when you’re here with me. If you wish so terribly to dance, then we shall. All you have to do is wish for it, my jewel.”

“Joel, how are we to dance when you have legs. and I possess fins..” your lips curved in a soft pout.

“My love, in the crystal water you dwell in of course. Do you trust me?” He slowly sat up to rest upon his strong elbow.

“Of course I trust you. You have given me no reason to not trust you. Do you wish to dance with me under the moonlight, my jolly sailor bold?”

“I do, my jewel.” His words whispered against your skin like a soft warm breeze.

Just like that, Joel had stripped himself of his belongings, his holster that held his pistol and sword were discarded to the side as he struggled to unlace his boots. He had the ghost of a boyish grin across the shadow of his jawline. He truly was that of beauty.

You slowly swam backwards, wading in the gentle water as he swung his legs over the ledge and slipped in. His body was fully healed by now and only a scar along his browline and side were visible.

“Promise not to laugh..I am not the strongest of swimmers.” He chuckled as he swam towards you.

Under the pale moonlight and stars above, you were captivated by his golden tanned skin that was now speckled with water droplets. The gold that hung around his neck shimmered like your scales and the rings that encased his fingers.

“I’d only ever laugh in good fun at thee.”

“I never knew a mermaid could hold such humor.” He winked coyly.

“I never knew a pirate could be so..cheeky.” Your arms slowly looped around his neck as his gentle hands rested upon your scaly waist.

You slowly began to move your bodies under the water, mimicking that of a man and woman dancing to the sweet sound of a violin. The water rippled as the crickets chirped along the shore.

Joel Miller had never been in love; he decided now that his heart belonged to you, a mermaid that he believed was brought to him by fate alone. How blessed he was to be given a second chance at a fruitful life. He didn’t need a ship, or a crew. All he needed was you.

“Joel..” you whispered through the calm evening air.

“Yes, my jewel?”

“Do you believe that it’s ever too soon to tell someone you love them?”

“No, my love. I do not believe that there is ever a time too soon, or too sudden to confess your love for someone.”

“Then if that is to be true, I love you.”

“I love you, my sea.” His forehead gently came to rest upon your own as his hands slowly and delicately slid up your body. He stroked your hair, your cheekbones as his thumb dragged across your lower lip. “I wish to kiss thee. Do you wish it?”

You leaned into his gentle touch as your fingers threaded through his sea-salt speckled curls. “I wish to feel thy lips upon my own.”

He turned his head to the side, nose gently brushing against your own as his lips met yours. His hands were now gently cradling your face with the utmost care as he kissed you like a lover does for the first time. Your lips moved in synchronized harmony, you and your jolly sailor bold.

Upon one summer's morning, when the sea was at her angriest and the wind howled a ghostly tune as the skies above darkened to pitch black, Joel had decided that a life above the surface was a life he no longer wanted to live. He wished to be with you, forever.

“My jewel!” He yelled for you as he raced for the lagoon that had become yours and his personal oasis.

You swam up from the surface of the lagoon, his voice was like that of a beacon. “My Joel, you shouldn’t be out here. You must find shelter. The storm is picking up and I am frightened that you will be caught up in her fury.” Your tone was urgent as he crouched along the edge of the lagoon.

“My Jewel, my light, please. Please listen to the words I speak. The storm does not frighten me. I have no desire to seek out shelter when I am safe here. I wish for you to take me to the depths. I wish for you to take me to your Eden. Please, my heart aches terribly that I can not be with you fully. The surface world has become my prison. I don’t wish to dwell in it any longer.”

Your face fell upon his confession. Tears blurred your vision as you shook your head vigorously, grasping his hands in your own. “No, my jolly sailor bold. Do not wish such a thing. You are not suited to dwell in the depths of the sea. I forbade it.”

“Please. Please, I am begging you. I have given thee my heart, my soul, take me all; for I am yours.”

“Joel..my heart breaks for thee. You will never return to land if you make this choice.” His hand gently cradled your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

“It is a choice I am willing to make. I wish to be with you for the rest of eternity. Till the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east. Till mountains crumble, and the sea dries, and the earth cracks and shatters to dust. I wish to be with you, always.” He murmured softly.

“Take my hand, and never let go.”

“Never, my jewel. I will never let go.” He promised to you.

He grasped your hand bravely in his own. He kissed you swiftly, holding your face as close to his as possible. He could taste the salt dripping from your tears mixing in with his own. He took his final lungful of air, before you dragged him below the surface.

Joel Miller, once a prince turned a pirate; Was never seen by the surface world again. Some say he was driven mad by the loneliness, and grief that he took his own life and drowned in the sea's treacherous depths. Others say the sea always called his name, beckoned him to return home, and so he did. The sea claimed him, and he her, just as it had been written.

Tagging people I think will enjoy: @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @sinsofsummers @thetriumphantpanda @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tessa-quayle @saradika @chaotic-mystery @kirsteng42 @korynnekorynne @amanitacowboy @last-girl @lovers-liability @pedrostories

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller au #joel miller angst #pirate! Joel Miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller story #joel miller one shot #joel miller self insert #from eden #tight jeans javi fic

[whxtestars]

Oh, what a sin.

Babe There's something broken about this But I might be hoping about this Oh, what a sin

#cotl narinder #cult of the lamb #cotl lambert #cotl the one who waits #the one who waits #cotl lamb #cult of the lamb au #cult of the lamb lambert #cotl au #cult of the lamb narinder #fnr au #Forgive and Repent au #bishop narinder #narilamb #true devotion #narinder x lamb #Lyrics: “From Eden” by Hozier #I totally didn't forget that I had a blog

[thewizardofrp]

@govannas

"My God," he gasped. "you're fun to kiss." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

#the boys #our boys #character: phoenix #connection: adrian #from eden #unholy matrimony #i love them #so many feels #even in a different AU they are amazing #ugh #sam reid #jacob anderson #iwtv

[cicada-candy]

Jaegers, and their Rangers

Coyote Tango; Capt. Carol Danvers and Capt. Maria Rambeau

first of the rangers done woo

i was going to do the Jaegers for all of them but that is So Much Work. So im just gonna do the AU specific jaegers instead

(i.e. Zarathos, Hell Charger, Iron Spider, Moon Knight, Widow Maker and Maybe the Winona Ryder. i am swinging wildly on whether or not i like that one adsdsdffdsfd)

#next will be either Eden Assassin or Zarathos which ever one stops fighting me first lol #ghost rider pacific rim au #my art #to clarify: am doing all rangers #just Get Those Mechs Away From Me ATM #edited coz i accidentally posted the wrong ver. lol

[skyafied]

if you are still taking requests, could you draw heavy surrounded birds like a disney princes and medic looking lovingly from the distance

Hey anon how does it feel to have an absolutely massive brain, like just ginormous

#eden art #ask #took inspiration from those very pretty traditional slavic dresses #tf2 fantasy au when? #heavy is the prettiest princess tbh #I just kinda..took this idea and ran with it #hope you don't mind that this is a bit more than a sketch! I kinda got carried away #whoopsies!! #I see some pretty glaring mistakes that are kinda annoying me but I just need to finish this and be done with it LMAO #sorry this took a little while; I was incredibly busy this past week!! #“I will try to respond in a timely manner!” my ass #also I’m trying out a new drawing tablet with this!! yippie!!! #thank you for the ask!! #tf2 #team fortress 2 #heavy tf2 #medic tf2 #archimedes tf2 #red oktoberfest #heavymedic

[simplepotatofarmer]

rabbit c!dream is based off a palomino rabbit.

he has lightly tan skin with a light covering of tan fur on his shoulders and back and the top of his arms, heavier near the shoulders and almost nothing near his wrists. his hands are human. he has a light covering of white fur on his belly in a sort of 'happy trail' way though it extends a bit above his belly button. he has heavier tan fur on his lower back and a rabbit tail. his legs are rabbit legs and also have a light bit of fur on his thighs that gets heavier towards the lower legs to a full covering of fur. he has rabbit feet with white fluff on the bottom.

his face is a mix of rabbit features and human features. his skin around his eyes is paler than the rest of his skin. he has very little fur on his face, most of it is on his nose which is more rabbit like, dissipating as it goes up from the tip. a very light bit of fur branches out from his temples onto his cheek bones. he had green eyes, a bit of freckles on his cheeks. his top lip is thinner and slightly '3' shaped with a fuller bottom lip.

he has light tan/blond hair that's a bit wavy. his ears are erect/standy uppy, the same tan color as the rest of his fur/hair with white on the edge.

he's also trans and while he doesn't actively bind his chest, he does keep his appearance a very close secret by pinning his ears down, wearing a hood and his mask as well as special boots that hide his feet (and make him a bit taller: he's about 5'9" without the boots and a little over six feet tall with them).

#loyal talks about stuff and things #c!dream #from eden au #rabbit run au #dreblr #dsmp headcanon #finally writing this down

[djsherriff-responses]

Wasn’t it enough that Eden violated Dolph’s autonomy by making him a war machine? They just had to experiment with his reproductive system without even telling him?!

Is it obvious I got complicated feelings on mother/parent hood? Because I do lmao and I’m shoving my feelings on to the depressed cyborg

don’t read below if you don’t want to see titty suckling

#captain laserhawk #dolph laserhawk #laserfrog #captain laserhen #Doodles #not safe for kids #tw mpreg #mpreg #pregnancy horror #not exactly but that’s what this au is kinda about? #Scary enough how much people I know irl changed so much after giving birth #And wondering what my own mother was like as a person before she became my mam #So Dolph going through that as someone whose sense of self was already taken from him #Would be so interesting and sad (he has help though!) #The only solid idea I kinda have atm is Eden is pretty heavy on the eugenics nonsense #And so decided to mess with Dolph so not only he could get pregnant #But any kids he had would only get “good genes” since they wanted to ensure if dolph died they’d have “back ups” so to speak #But he was better off as a cyborg warrior so they never thought to use that “function” or even mention it to Dolph #Tw autonomy violation

[the-silver-chronicles]

WIP Wednesday + My OC as... & What Faerie Court Does Your OC Belong To? & What Does Your Soul Look Like?

Tagged by @g0dspeeed @voidika @socially-awkward-skeleton @deputy-morgan-malone @direwombat @adelaidedrubman and @onehornedbeast

Tagging @shallow-gravy @inafieldofdaisies @strangefable @strafethesesinners @josephslittledeputy @minilev @chazz-anova @cassietrn @snake-in-the-garden @corvosattano @ec-10 @deputyash @derelictheretic @henbased @jacobmybeloved @ladyoriza @nightbloodbix @vampireninjabunnies-blog @neverthesameneveranother @wrathfulrook @carlosoliveiraa @thewanderer-000 @softtidesworld @josephseedismyfather @skoll-sun-eater @vasiktomis and @afarcryfrommymain + anyone else who wants to join.

One WIP, two quizzes and a sharing visual stuff of Silva with the My OC as.... Here's the "What Faerie Court does your OC belong to?" Quiz and the "What does Does Your Soul Look Like?" Quiz.

Here's the WIP of that unnamed "Arranged Marriage" AU, with Silva agonizing over her life so far (after a shower no less) as she waits for Faith to come back with a dreadful wedding dress. Snippet below:

[Silva's] head in gloved hands, she fought the urge to grab a fistful of dark hair and rip it out. To scream and curse... at what? God? Her father? Joseph and the prophets before him who were too cowardly and self-absorbed in their own dead delusions to even try not to fuck someone's life over for once?

Or would she curse herself? For agreeing to this arrangement, despite how much she hates it? For hurting others with her very presence, being forced to wander in their vision even after taking the lives of loved ones, whose blood has since been washed off, but not the scars and lesions that are scattered over her damaged hands, a reminder of the lives she took? Curse herself for not putting her own needs, her desires, her hopes and dreams before others, just as Kamski insisted she do?

Silva didn't know. She didn't know what to do anymore. It was far beyond what she initially knew. Far from what she was taught in the Minas. Eden's Gate wasn't like Father's battalions of Enforcers, cruel and deplorable in their mission, nor were they like the Apostles, teaching malevolence and hidden in shadows.

Eden's Gate had a mission, one with the best of intentions, but were spreading terror in their methods, even if they seemed a bit remorseful, which doesn't change the fact they have ruined lives indefinitely, nor excuse the recruitment of psychopaths like the Cook.

It was uncanny just how much qualities about the Project that she could despise and how much she could differentiate it from the likes of her father's Enforcers. It didn't make it any better that Joseph and John seemed genuine in their desire to have her as apart of the family, even when her gut argues that it's nothing more than a ploy, a deception, with her stomach coiling in agreement, the very reminder that she'd be married to Jacob in the coming weeks making her nauseous again.

Despite the personal cost of her freedom, she had to do it, especially if it meant peace for the Resistance and the freedom of Hudson and Pratt... and Burke as well she guessed. She could also breath a little easier with the knowledge that she had forced Joseph to acknowledge that this marriage was, at best, a tactical ploy for peace, more-or-less, and convinced him to give not only his word that Jacob would not try anything of harmful or sexual nature towards her, but also had him forbid his older brother as "the Father" from even thinking to do such acts, or else she would not agree to anything more.

Silva knew from experience that a profeta's word was as reliable as a rickety old bridge worn down from age, but if he backed out on any of the agreements, not only would he face backlash from herself and the Resistance, but most likely a few of his own people as well.

It still didn't change the fact she was a prisoner here both presently and with the reminders of how guilty her own conscience really is.

She gave the Resistance a standing chance for freedom, however that is going, even if it meant she was restricted in her own.

Jannah, Elsa would be so disappointed in me. Worse then disappointed probably. She'd return from the ashes if she could, and then go on to berate Silva of not only her martyr tendencies, but also give her an earful for all the times Silva had told Elsa to keep track of her own well-being while being mindful of others.

How hypocritical of me.

Does that make me closer to Father than it does Paul now?

Silva wasn't sure how to answer that, but she couldn't blink the welling tears away, no matter how much ferocity she put in.

Here I am... on a bed in Faith's Gate... a prison in all but name, surrounded by people I have hurt in more ways than one... crying to myself... as I can do nothing for my friends and neighbours who I can't even communicate with, no less hear from... all the while I'm waiting on Faith to get me whatever wretched wedding dress the Seeds had stolen to have me wear... while in nothing but my undergarments and the thinnest bathrobe.

It may not be as rock bottom as walking in a blizzard barefoot in a shitty dress at 10-years-old while Enforcers searched for her across the bridge to the Minas, or sailing on a boat with little supplies, taking care of an infant barely two weeks old, and tending to an injured hermana after escaping a successful massacre on the one community she thought truly understood her. Nor was it like the day she returned to the county, into her resident home, without her hija in hand to carry to bed, and as if to kick her further, find out the legacy Elsa wanted to leave behind in the form of her floristry had been stolen away during Silva's absence. But it was still suffocating, and she couldn't help but mourn for the normalcy she almost regained.

Here's the results for the "What Faerie Court Does Your OC Belong To?" Quiz.

Elsa Omar (Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, The Harbinger's Salvation AU)

Yeah this describes Elsa. She generally doesn't take in account the feelings of others in canon nor in this AU. Elsa is very selfish, and only cares for the people closest in her family circle (mainly Silva, Persephone, & Ezekiel + Azriel and Mercy if she got to meet them), everyone else is a pawn to use and abuse for whatever means necessary, especially in The Harbinger's Salvation AU, where her older sister is under the control of the Apostles of Zachariah. Elsa is narcissistic and vain, as well as a compulsive liar to majority of people to boot. She has no problem enacting on every vice (smoking, drinking, screwing, etc) without shame, even if it is detrimental to her overall health and social apathy. Credit where credit is due, she's achieved sleeping with nearly everyone in the county, something even Adelaide hadn't achieved. But its the fact she's careless of everyone's feelings and also gives zero fucks about looking through peoples things to see what she can use for blackmail. She's absolutely NOT a good person, it just happens to be that her goals are either beneficial to others (her work with the Resistance in the AU even if she's not in it for their fight but more so her sisters' safety, having gathered enough evidence of Eden's Gate' crimes to send Joseph to prison for life to protect Silva and Persephone, etc) or even she has morals or ideals she wouldn't cross/adopt (absolutely knows for certain that Adam's Guard is not safe nor should be left to exist, wouldn't join the Apostles because of their habits to bring terror and death to others, and wouldn't join Eden's Gate because they restrict peoples' freedoms in what they want to do for their lives besides devote it to God which would be a very unhappy place for Silva and Azriel, etc) even if those are because it goes against her self-interests. Elsa is willing to take massive risks, which though can be dangerous, she's always confident of the rewards it brings. And just because her bones are brittle doesn't mean she's not willing to go down rough and dirty to win.

Now for the "What does your soul look like?" Quiz.

Azriel (Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Wings And Horns original work)

I mean this pretty much describes Azriel. Neglected by her parents and then was almost killed by them as they tried to sacrifice her to prove themselves worthy of staying in Eden's Gate, was always shunned for her interests in technology and invention from within the project did not help her mentally. Nor did the isolation. Afraid everyone is out to get her, this 9-year-old puts up a ferocious front in order to at least look the part of scary. Which offputs people from her or undermine her with sympathy she doesn't understand nor want. She feels as if no one wants her, nor do they want to understand her, choosing how she should live her life. Well, at least until she meets Silva in a chance encounter that changes the fate of the county and Silva's role in the Reaping and the Collapse. The first time the Voice felt fear that day. And it wouldn't be the last time either.

Now for the "My OC as..." stuff. I tried to find a faceclaim that I thought was true to Silva. (RANT: I had to go to f***ing Quora for this. And I hate Quora with a burning passion. I still receive their emails to this day. No I don't want to know how to make a Spinach cake, I'm not interested in the quantum physics of a blackhole and no I don't want to be involved in the debate on whether its criminal to leave the toilet seat up, IT IS, debate over!). Anyway Silva's current faceclaim for the time being (or indefinite if I feel that "do you know what, this person is right for Silva") is actress Mina El Hammani. In order to use and create this template I used this trustworthy meme generator, who never disappoints me (unlike Quora).

Maybe I should make one of Paul one day. That would be interesting dissecting him like this.

#far cry the silver chronicles #far cry 5 #oc: silva omar #the project at eden's gate #the seed family #unnamed forced arranged marriage wip au #far cry the harbingers salvation #far cry the harbingers salvation au #oc: elsa omar #oc: azriel #silva omar's faceclaim #fc: mina el hammani #wip wednesday #oc quiz #oc template #somehow i keep finding my way back to quora #and i don't know how to stop it from sending me emails PLEASE QUORA I SIGNED OUT AND DELETED MY ACCOUNT WHY ARE YOU EMAILING ME?! #imgflip meme generator: baby boy baby #quora: you f***ing donkey #you win this time quora but don't expect me to thank you

[aquaquadrant]

does the from eden playlist go all the way until the end of the series or just up to where we've gotten so far?

the playlist was intended to cover the entire series, howEVER at the time i made that playlist i only had the first chapter written, with just a rough outline for the rest of the story. lots of things have changed/been added since then, SO since u asked, i’ve taken this opportunity to update the playlist to better reflect the entire series.

linked here for convenience 💃

#hels to pay au #HTP tunes #ok ive sat on this long enough #HEADS UP track 33 has a tiny screamo section in like the last minute #(take me back to eden by sleep token) #took me by surprise the first time i listened HAH #i reserve the right to mess around w the order later #after i’ve listened thru it a few more times #but it should frame the major events of the story fairly well #at least from the rancher pov

[muzzleroars]

How would Lucifer feel about his student's states rn? Michael is literally a walking corpse and Gabriel nearly died/is similiar to him rn and his other two students just try to be normal as much as possible while internally screaming, Raphael trying his best to keep optimistic and be a leader and Uriel trying not to panic over finally getting to think about the stuff he has written down and contemplating all the secrets he's keeping from his brothers

lucifer, once he's able to process the world around him, would see them as the victims of god's corroding presence, that no matter if one was banished from his side or cleaved to him in perpetual adoration, they must all ultimately deteriorate. he has very complicated emotions concerning the archangels, at turns feeling a great pity for them in their servitude, knowing how they must have been punished, how they lived under constant threat, constant surveillance, knowing that if they did not perfectly conform to god's capricious whims they could lose everything they had ever had, ever been...but then at other times expressing a deep, bitter hatred for what they had done, not just to him but to all the angels who followed him, to all the damned souls, so many of which did little or nothing at all to deserve so hideous a fate. not only did they uphold it, but they actively contributed to the condemnation, to slandering lucifer and his angels to the righteous and the damned over generations. and not even hell itself can hate as lucifer does.

in michael's fate he almost sees god's kingdom laid bare, and it's obviously the one that makes him most volatile - he had been closest to michael but michael had also cast him out, michael the most egregious victim but only because he had so fought for all the evil that god perpetuated in this world. god's greatest champion now his most heinous casualty. michael would likely try to conceal himself, but lucifer knows far more than he thinks - hell has whispered it to him already, long ago now, and besides, this is an evil he recognizes from eons prior. god did many things and lucifer, by his side, saw angels created only to be destroyed, to test what it meant to lose light, that all the rest of the host of heaven never knew. and lucifer, as a seraph, would have had the responsibility to carry out that ritual - he left many like michael is now in his "practice" (god promised they were never really alive, they would be erased and there would never have been any pain) lucifer, really, is the first one that can give michael any verifiable information on his state, though there is nothing he can do for it - so fallen, he cannot complete the process now as he may once have been able to as a high seraph. and he grieves for michael. he grieves horribly, to the point that it causes him physical agony, trying to touch him, to feel what he feels but unable to when michael is not truly damned. the fire left in him sparks, ignites, explodes, until smoke is billowing out of every crack of his ashen body, yet he erupts into unstable reactions that michael can do nothing but take. lucifer mourns, telling him how he always knew this would happen, that god would twist and shatter michael into so many pieces, that making him prince had been the cruelest punishment he could have given him...but then condemning him for his stupidity, that he had finally gotten the fate allotted to a mindless, barbaric dog and choked himself on his own collar. he is no better than a husk, rotting in hell just like the rest of them but fully conscious, trapped in a corpse falling to pieces and showing everyone the greatest reward for his loyalty. and finally lucifer rails against him for taking what he says without fight, look at how still michael clings to penance, to think this will do anything for either of them. in part lucifer is vindicated in michael's fate, in part he aches for him, a part of him believes he made his bed and a part of him wishes to help him out of it. the most terrible thing is that he seems to far prefer lucifer's abuse, and can't stand to see that beneath it all, his old teacher's love still remains.

gabriel garners a relatively different reaction - though lucifer doesn't really have the humor for smugness, there is a distinct lack of surprise seeing him as fallen. he always knew gabriel was likely to join them, sure he had the heart for it but wasn't quite there yet in his head. however, there is a similar honesty to what lucifer tells him - he fell into treachery, but that betrayal is hardly limited to the council he slaughtered. reflected in his fall is all the damned he stabbed in the back, how he may have had some form of mercy for them in his heart, how he may even had compassionate dealings with them, but how little it truly mattered in the end. in judecca for his ultimate treachery, but just as at home in ptolomaea. so lucifer deeply resents what he considers gabriel's "fake" service and the careless, disingenuous hope he gave to the souls of hell who are already tormented enough - having hope doubles that cruelty, and he doubts gabriel even considered it. yet it is also clear lucifer trusts him more than he does the other archangels at this point and in his favorable change of emotion would tell him he was proud of his liberation of heaven. gabriel took great personal risk to finally act so late on his conflicted feelings, yet able to break the angelic yoke, and lucifer is sympathetic to what gabriel experienced at the hands of the council - he is the one gabriel is most able to speak to about his loss of faith and meet understanding of it. lucifer is far more extreme in his hatred of god, but it provides gabriel about the least judgmental outlet he could have when he feels a particular need to express his grievances. lucifer still believes gabriel is different from other fallen angels and doesn't care for the fact that he continues to feel kinship to those in heaven, but he is the most comfortable with him (as an aside, gabriel quickly clears any remaining virtues out of hell when lucifer is released because. well. they would never last)

raphael and uriel he is most distant with, not trusting them yet still observing them closely. because lucifer does hold on to the love he had for all of them, and more than gabriel or michael, he sees the result of fear in these two and how evil becomes self-sustaining. they attempt to apologize to him, but there is a distinct tension, an anxiety carried forward despite them now knowing the truth (uriel especially, given that he himself edited the record of lucifer's fall) and it makes lucifer burn in despair, in hatred of god. in them, he sees the full effect of what's been done to his memory in heaven, how much he's become an object of loathing and warped in the minds of even those he loved the most. so he avoids them almost entirely, not even desiring to feel pity for their positions given how comfortable they still are by comparison even to their brothers - if he does speak to them, he's almost sure to bring that up and little else, almost forcing himself not to care for them despite knowing that he does. because he knows raphael is there sacrificing his own wellbeing to sustain the other three, and he knows uriel feels defunct, vestigial but laden with all the knowledge of truth. for as low as lucifer is, he could never detach himself to the point of apathy, he can't close himself off to the suffering of others no matter how abstract it is to him in his misery. so...very occasionally as they continue to try to speak with him...he offers them advice on what to do. it's shocking when it happens each time, as they usually either get the cold shoulder or some venom spat at them (with him ever so often just blaspheming to scare them off immediately). but for raphael he will sometimes tell him just how to solve some argument, or when the problem doesn't require his intervention and instead should rather be solved only by those involved. for uriel, he tells him with all the truth he has it is now his place to administer it wisely, to methodically come to know what must be told and when, and that his presence will be necessary if they wish to move forward without all the lies perpetuated under god. these moods typically don't last long, but they serve to ease something in all of them as raphael and uriel remember the lucifer they once loved little by little.

#lucifer has become a being of extremes and that begins to show #because he hates deeply. he hates only as god himself can hate #and the archangels are some of the best targets for that hate as the true object of it is now dead #but also. despite it all. his love endures #he has been tormented as no other being. but his love survived it all #ONCE AGAIN. paradise lost. the being who second-guessed hurting adam and eve in their happiness #the being who wished no cruelty but acted on it because he was in so much pain. because eden reminded him of all he lost #BOY....i love this weird guy from christianity #cake answers #lucifer #michael #gabriel #raphael #uriel #rise and fall au

[spicymoonmenace]

With Dante's design reveal, I've decided to go ahead and finally announce that the official name for the Club AU is 'Escape from Eden'!

I'll still be referring to it as Club AU like always, but it now has a proper name! I'll also be titling the fic this in the future!

#club au #Escape from Eden #EfE