Corrupted Dark Cacao AU [A Game Of Go Page 12-13]

do you guys think this is how the crew would've found out

Just know, I'll be here. waiting... /lyric

Please listen to Epic The Musical

They got it handled, dont worry

Was hoping to post this before the Mario movie dropped but oh well. 

I’m going to see it next week and I am so excited for it! 

Yea, let me just... *goes to his bedroom to cry*

Aftermath (odypen fanfic)

TW: mentioned SA and (according to my friend) slightly (and I mean SLIGHTLY) suggestive

[I was pretty proud of this one so I wanted to share :D]

[credit to @dootznbootz for the Water Wife™ headcanon]

The palace halls were deserted this time of night. The two lovers had taken an evening stroll — more like midnight stroll — and were still drenched from the creek. It wasn’t her fault, she insisted — Odysseus started it. Had he never smugly commented about his “godlike looks,” Penelope might have not used her naiad powers and they both would probably still be dry. But no.

That lovable little bighead, she thought to herself, smiling.

“What is it?” he asked from beside her. She snapped out of her thoughts and glanced at him — then, seeing his cocky grin, looked back down. Her cheeks felt hot.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how embarrassed you looked after the creek incident.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

“Quit arguing like a child,” she chuckled.

He pretended to pout, softening his expression like a little pup as he always did to persuade her.

“Don’t make that face at me.”

His grin returned, wider this time. “Why not? Too gorgeous for you?”

She stopped walking and playfully shoved his shoulder into the nearest pillar. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. For a second, they stayed there, looking into each other’s eyes, barely able to breathe.

She eyed his lips. He eyed hers. She inched her face closer, almost closing the gap between them —

“Wait.”

Confused, she pulled back. “What?”

Odysseus was trembling. His breathing was shallow and uneven, his skin pale. “I just … I can’t.”

“Why not?” Penelope’s brows furrowed. “Odysseus, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond. His chest was heaving, his eyes flicking wildly from one spot to another — looking at everything but her. And he wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Odysseus. Ody, look at me.”

He did, but his eyes were wild.

“You can tell me if something’s bothering you. Did I do something? Say something?”

“No — no, I …” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“It’s okay, Ody. You can tell me.”

“Ca — ” his breath hitched. “Calypso,” he breathed, barely audible.

“What — ” Suddenly, Penelope understood. She’d heard that word before. Calypso wasn’t a what.

She was a who.

“Another woman?” Penelope took a step back. “Is that what this is about?”

No response. Just more ragged breathing.

“Answer me, Odysseus,” she spat angrily. “Who is this woman you slept with? Why did you choose her over me?”

His eyes widened more, suddenly flicking up to meet hers. “No! No, it’s not like that. She — ”

“What’s going on, Odysseus? What else haven’t you told me? What else are you hiding?”

“Penelope, listen — ” He paused, choking a little as tears formed in his eyes. “I tried to stop her but she — ” Suddenly, he dissolved in tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Oh.

Penelope’s heart dropped. He didn’t choose Calypso over her — no, the reality was much worse.

She stepped closer again. “Ody, it’s okay — ”

“No. No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”

Reaching out to touch his face, she repeated, “It’s okay — ”

But he jumped away from her hand like it was the point of a sword.

“Don’t touch me.”

She froze, realizing why he said that. “I’m sorry, Ody — ”

His expression softened. “No. I’m sorry. I — ” his voice caught in his throat as his eyes widened again.

“I have to go,” he said, slowly backing away.

“Odysseus — ”

“I’m so sorry.”

And he turned and sprinted away.

•••

“Odysseus? Ody, where are you? Odysseus!”

Penelope ran through the halls, almost tripping and cursing at her dress for being so long. She called her husband’s name over and over again, worry blossoming in her heart like a poisonous flower.

She checked the gardens. Nothing.

She checked the main hall. Nobody in sight.

She checked the courtyard. Completely empty.

Where was he?

Realization struck her — there was only one place left.

Panting, she knocked on the bedroom door. “Ody? Ody, it’s me, are you in there?”

No response. She was about to knock again but then —

Sniffle.

Her heart felt like it had been ripped into pieces. Just that one sound made her knees feel week. Odysseus was crying — because of her. Because she decided to do the one thing that made him uncomfortable — touch him.

Although, she thought, Odysseus had never acted like this before. If anything, they both loved curling up on that wedding bed of theirs and losing themselves in love. It made them feel … intertwined. Not just their limbs. But their hearts. Their souls. Like two olive bushes — one tame, one wild — growing from the same stem with their branches wound together so tightly that nothing, not even the wind or rain, could pass through.

Now, it felt as if someone was hacking at the wild branch with an axe, trying to cut him off from his stem and pry him away against his will. That someone was Calypso.

Or maybe — Penelope dreadfully thought — it was herself.

Either way, she could not let him feel like that any longer. She opened the door, stepping inside.

“Ody?”

Another sniffle.

She gently closed the door, then followed the sound to behind the bed. Curled up in a corner was the king of Ithaca — shaking, sobbing, choking on his breath with his head against the wall and knees tucked into his chest.

“Odysseus.”

A pained groan escaped his throat as he winced. His eyes were shut tight, his skin dripping with sweat and tears.

Her gut twisted. What was happening to him? “Odysseus. Ody, wake up. Please.”

“Enough, goddess,” he croaked quietly. “Please.”

“What — Odysseus, it’s me —”

“No!” His body twitched as if someone had sent a bolt of lightning through him. His brows furrowed in pain. “You’ve — you’ve hurt me enough. No more — no more games. Please, I beg of you.”

“Odysseus! Please! Wake up!” she cried, crouching down and desperately taking his face in her hands. She could feel tears forming in her eyes, clouding her vision. What must he have gone through to get this upset?

His eyes still squeezed shut, he jumped away from her touch. “Get away from me!” he yelled. “Please — leave me alone. Let me — let me have one peaceful night. One. Please —”

“ODYSSEUS, IT’S ME! It’s Penelope! You’re home, remember? You’re safe. Please, come back to me.” She choked, the tears flowing freely down her face now.

His eyes flew open as he jolted awake. At the sight of her, his breath hitched. “Penelope,” he whispered. “It’s you.”

She nodded, smiling through her tears. “Yes, my love. It’s me. You’re home.”

For a second, he was silent, taking in everything about her — her face, her electric blue eyes, now overflowing with tears. She held his gaze, watching him realize that this was Penelope — his loving wife. She’d never hurt him. Never.

Suddenly, he threw his arms around her, dissolving in tears again. She hugged him back, her fingers combing his sweat-soaked hair as sobs racked his body. She fought the urge to cry with him, knowing that she had to be strong for the both of them if she wanted to help him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear over and over again until he had somewhat calmed down. “You’re okay.”

He waited until the tears stopped flowing, then let go and met her gaze again. “I’m sorry.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Penelope.”

“No, I’m sorry. I made you uncomfortable. I won’t touch you anymore —”

“No!” he exclaimed. “No, please do.” His eyes glinted with longing. “Twenty years I have been starved of your touch. I can’t hold back any longer. I just — it’ll take some time for — for me to get used to it.”

“Take your time, my love. I’ll be right here by your side.”

He nodded, biting his lip as his eyes moistened again. Burying his face into her shoulder, he sat with her in silence.

After a moment, Penelope spoke. “If you ever want to talk about it —”

He shuddered.

“You don’t have to,” she stammered. “Talk about it, I mean. I know it’s hard. I know you’re hurt. But if you do —”

“No, I do. Just — give me a second.”

“Take your time,” she repeated.

A few seconds passed as he steadied his emotions. Separating himself from the embrace, he took a deep breath. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“It wasn’t just Calypso. Before that … Circe.”

Oh, gods. Penelope felt dizzy.

“But at least I got something out of that. Hermes told me that for her to release my men, I — I had to allow myself into her bed. So I did, reluctantly.” His voice cracked. “It worked. She released my men and sent us on our way to the Underworld. I thought that would be the last of it.”

Penelope started to take his hand in hers, then stopped herself. But Odysseus looked down, then took her hand instead. She smiled at him comfortingly.

“Calypso was a different story.” He swallowed. “After my ship was struck down by Zeus, I washed up on an island. She greeted me, appearing kind at first. She gave me shelter, food, clothing, and company. One day, I told her that I must be on my way. But she —” He hesitated. “She had different plans. ‘I gave you everything I could. It’s time you repay me.’ I agreed. ‘Anything, goddess.’” He paused. “I wish I had known what she had meant.” His voice cracked again as he finally met Penelope’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

She shook her head.

“I'm just a man, Penelope. A mortal. I was no match against this goddess. I’m so sorry. Every night, no matter how hard I resisted, she’d — she'd force me into her bed; every night after … her, I’d lie awake thinking of you — of how I betrayed you, even when you were waiting for me for all these years —” He choked, letting out another sob.

She wrapped her arms around him again as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t, Ody.”

Silence fell again between the two as he composed himself. Penelope spoke again — “This happened … every night?” she whispered.

He slowly nodded into her shoulder.

“For how long?”

No response.

“Ody —”

“Eight years.”

Gods.

Now tears fell from her eyes too as his fingers dug into her back, desperately grasping for her affection. The realization that this — being forced to betray his beloved; not the monsters, the gods, or anything else he faced — was the worst he could have ever suffered.

For eight years. Penelope felt sick.

“I’m so sorry,” he kept saying, but she only shook her head.

Her heart shattered. None of this was his fault; why was he apologizing? And this was nothing like the Odysseus she knew. Odysseus was a hero — strong, brave, and cunning. No, this was … broken. A man who had been through far more than he let on; far more than he deserved.

Even heroes need to be consoled sometimes, she figured.

They sat like that for a while, taking comfort in each other. When they finally parted, they both felt different — healed.

All that was in the past now. They had each other now, as they always would. They were safe. They were home.

They were together. And that’s what mattered.

“Penelope?” Odysseus asked.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

She only smiled.

That night, the two of them fell asleep in each other’s arms — the two olive bushes, intertwined again at last.

Never to be separated again.

A new assassination attempt on the king, and of course not without wounds.

Well, I really like that Julien is more worried about his lemurs than about himself

I am Malak, a medical student from North Gaza. Our home has been destroyed, and we have been displaced more than 20 times seeking safety, but danger is everywhere💔. During this journey filled with suffering, I lost my brother Moataz, who was martyred while trying to fetch water for us😢.

I want to escape this hell to save my family and continue my medical studies. I have created a donation campaign, and any contribution, whether by donating or sharing the story, means a lot to me. Your support could be the light in this dark tunnel🍉🙏.

Of course! I don't have money because im a minor but i can help with sharing the story :)

back on my bullshit... hello nephewdad uncleson nation. I love them so much, they are so so dearest to me. Araki why didn't you give us a dadtaro hug with Josuke? I had to draw him cradling his baby sigh.... im normal.

i need. i need to write this out. its short canon-based fic that's like. basically spoilers but i neeeeeeeEEEEEEEEd to write this

fic/technical spoilers under the cut

He couldn’t believe it. His slumped figure, the uncanny features of what used to be his face, his screams… Adam Murray, one of the most wanted criminals by the FBI to date, was one of them?

Thatcher, body laying on his side on the carpeted floor of the suspect’s bedroom, stared in utter shock and horror at the criminal’s screaming state, his eyes and mouth misshaped to the point he couldn’t be recognized as who he was before. He had witnessed someone’s humanity being stripped away from them. Just like his had in previous years.

Thatcher put down the camera and slid himself to a nearby wall to recover properly. His hands reached for the popcorn texture and pushed himself up, all while trying to think of some way he could calm the boy, or, if needed, neutralize the threat. He didn’t seem like a threat, however. The voice beckoning to this place had certainly not wanted to lure him for the sake of getting killed. Whoever called him here wanted him to witness someone else’s pain, to test him in his willingness to actually help others. And he gladly took that challenge.

“Murray, kid,” Thatcher tried to speak, his voice raspy from having woken up only a mere thirty minutes ago. “I… What the hell’s going on?”

“JUST LET ME DIIIiIiiEeEEE!!!!!!!!!” he screamed, the pain clear as day through his voice. He tried moving his slacked arms, sluggishly grabbing his jaw and hair in his separate hands, pulling on both of them simultaneously. He even began whispering and mumbling for the Lieutenant to “just kill him,” pleading for the sweet release of the pain he had been enduring.

Thatcher swallowed his fears and began approaching the alternate, hands hovering over the gun he had brought for protection. As much as he knew he couldn’t kill those things, it was a good distraction in case things had to get violent. He’d survived one before, what’s another?

He inched his way toward Adam, the suspect trying to crumple himself into a ball as a way to mitigate his suffering. All the while, he was still screaming at the top of his lungs. His footsteps were quiet so as to not alarm the suffering boy in front of him. His limbs had been stretched out to an impossible length as well as being skinny enough that he’d die right there and then if he were truly human. At this point, Thatcher was sure that everything he thought about Adam was a complete lie.

There was one thing on his mind as he stepped ever closer: does Sarah know? Does his ex know? Does anyone else know?

Once Thatcher had felt he had been able to get close enough, he bent down to Adam’s level, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to him. Slowly but surely, he had placed a soft hand against the disfigured kid’s knee. Adam tried lifting his head but decided he didn’t want to due to how much it would hurt for someone else to see him like this. Thatcher knew it too.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the crying mess, ignoring how liquid the skin felt, how flexible it was now. It became goo in his hands as he tried gripping onto Adam for dear life, not wanting to let him go until he’d calmed himself down. Adam began to shift around a bit before uncurling himself, albeit in a very strained manner. Thatcher noticed this attempt and slightly backed away, still keeping his hands attached to Adam in an attempt of comfort.

“Why… aren’t you running…?” Adam asked, the soft whisper of his voice almost not reaching the officer’s ears. “Did… why? Why are you here?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is making sure you’re okay,” Thatcher responded in the same tone of voice as to not scare him. He had a gut feeling that him breaking down is why he’s all discombobulated. “Take some breaths with me, and hold on tight if you need to.”

With those remarks, Thatcher softly embraced Adam once more, Adam slowly returning his gesture this time. Thatcher could feel Adam’s melting hands searching for some sort of grip on him, finally setting on holding his hair a little too tight for Thatcher’s comfort. Thatcher decided to ignore the pain in favor of helping Adam in the best way he could. He leaned his head backwards to alleviate some of it at least, but it truly wasn’t his main focus at the present moment.

“Take some breaths, kid. Please,” Thatcher whispered. He began to breathe deeply, in and out, in a stable pattern to model to Adam. Adam struggled at first, the snot being sniffled back up his nose and tears running endlessly down his face - or was it blood -, but eventually finding a pattern that worked for him best. His skin began to solidify in the process - not fully, but it was definitely better than before. Adam finally found more grip in his hands and removed his hands from Thatcher’s hair to settle on his back instead.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry,” Adam repeated quietly, half hoping that Thatcher wouldn't hear. Or at least that’s what he theorized.

“Don’t ever apologize,” Thatcher firmly, but gently, stated, pulling away from the boy softly. “You needed help, and that’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Adam looked up at Thatcher, finally. His eyes and mouth had changed back into a normal, stable state along with the rest of his limbs. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his lips quivered, and his entire body simply shook from the mere shock, pain, and horror of it all.

“Am I… Are…” Adam mumbled. He looked at his hands and flexed them a few times, unsure of if he had returned to his former self or not. “Am I real?”

“If that’s supposed to mean ‘are you normal again’ then yes, you are,” Thatcher chuckled. “However, if you’re truly questioning whether or not you’re real, then the answer is still yes. I have tons of records on you back at the station if you need proof.”

Adam chuckled softly, trying to hide his amusement in Thatcher’s words. He stared at the ground for a few moments, and Thatcher joined him. They sat in complete, awkward silence, though that silence might have been necessary.

“You need a place to stay? Or someone to stay here with you for the night? I don’t want you to be by yourself tonight. Maybe not even for the next few days. And we don’t have to talk about this right now. I understand.”

Adam nodded and began tearing up once more, lunging at Thatcher with a more enthusiastic hug. Thatcher immediately complied.

“Thank you… I’m so sorry you had to deal with this-”

“Hey, again, don’t apologize.”

Adam nodded in Thatcher’s shoulder. He had longed for physical contact for a good while, and this was the best chance he’d ever get at it. Thatcher felt it as Adam tried to get even closer to him, pulling on him even harder and even trying to nuzzle his shoulder just to get that extra sense of physical feeling. A sense of comfort and safety. A sense of humanity.

“I don’t wanna stay here,” Adam spoke up, his voice slightly muffled by the officer’s shoulder. “I need to get out of here…”

“I got you covered. Not too comfortable bringing you to my place due to… circumstances, but we can just head over to the station. I should have something there to make us comfortable.”

Adam nodded and gave a verbal indicator through hums. Thatcher slightly separated from Adam to help him stand, walking him out of the house and to his car. He led him to the passenger seat and let himself get comfortable. After he gently closed the door, he walked over to the driver’s seat, got comfortable, started the car, and drove as fast as he could to get them both out of there.

Thatcher wasn’t sure what to do the next morning, but whatever it was it would be taking care of this damn kid. He already lost his parents, and he’s not gonna let it happen again.

Vlad dealin with his teenager ghost alpha adopted son

Part two:

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ngahh

Part one: Ngl I fully expected smg4 to heel over and start seizing at one point during the movie Some of you asked for a continuation of m

Here’s part three/the final part of this lil comic of the aftermath of “It’s gotta be perfect.” 🥹👉👈

I don’t make comics very often and this took me a long time, but it gave me a lot of practice on perspectives lol. I hope ya’ll like it ❤️