#first half: fire + zoom in; second half: zoom out

[librathefangirl]

The Seven Deadly Sins over the seasons: a few who betrayed the realm -> The heroes who will determine this fate

[libraryofantiquitea]

𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬.

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary: you have a meeting to attend via zoom when jake is leaving for work. he has interesting ways of saying goodbye.

warnings: explicit, minors do not interact! oral (female receiving), brief masturbation (male), semi-public sex.

word count: 3.4k

author's notes: no beta, we die like goose. thank you to the creator coven for giving me this plot bunny to turn into the beast that it became!

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! ♥

“Jake, honey! I have a video meeting in a couple of minutes!”

You liked to give your husband a heads up before you went into any meeting longer than half an hour whenever he was home. It had started in early 2020 when you were adjusting to working from home - everyone was - and Jake had kicked down the door of the spare bedroom slash office you were in, bare ass naked to retrieve some laundry. Thankfully your camera had been off, but it had the potential to not only get you fired, but cause an international incident.

“How long?” Jake asked, wandering from the kitchen and into the hallway, scarfing down half a sandwich.

You looked at your watch as you began to turn and head back to your office. “Um, an hour and a half?”

“I’ll be gone to work by then, I’m working the night shift at the base,” he said petulantly, shoulders slumping slightly. “I won’t see you until tomorrow morning.”

“I know, honey,” you said with a pout, turning back around and closing the distance between you. “I’m sorry. I tried to get it rescheduled, but the Dean was the one calling the shots on this one.”

Jake rolled his eyes, stuffing more of the sandwich in his mouth. “Well, I’ll pop in before I leave to say goodbye.”

“If you don’t I’ll be cross,” you said, wrapping your arms around Jake’s shoulders. You stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, not caring that he’d gotten mustard on you somehow.

—

“Mrs. Seresin, did you have any updates from your meetings?”

You’d been trying to pay attention, but your mind kept drifting. Any meeting over an hour seemed cruel, and in the afternoon you were less likely to be at your best. You were also well aware that Jake would be leaving any moment, listening to the sounds of him gathering up gear and packing his bag for the night.

The Dean of the department and you were on a first name basis, but everyone had been calling you Mrs. Seresin since the wedding, because you couldn’t stop giggling and blushing over it, this time it was no exception.

“I do,” you replied, reaching for your notebook and opening a document containing some agendas and meeting notes that lived on your computer. You filled the void by saying “um” a few times while you searched through your materials. “The Equity, Diversity, Inclusion and Accessibility Committee met earlier this week to provide some feedback on the proposal of launching the Employment Equity Plan. Everyone was in favour but they did have some questions about how comprehensive the plan was.”

There was a light rapping on the door, and you turned to look back at it before turning back the camera. “Just a moment. Jake’s off to work.”

“Take your time!” one of your colleagues said, as you turned off your camera and microphone.

“Come in!” you said to Jake, standing up at the same time to greet him at the door. 

Jake stepped in wearing his service khakis, and smiled at you. “Off to work I go, darlin’,” he said in a sing-song voice, wrapping his arms around you.

You hugged him tightly, turning your head to give him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll call before I go to bed?” you asked.

“Of course!” Jake replied, ducking his head down and kissing you sweetly. He pulled back, saying nothing, looking toward your desk. “That leg is gonna give out at any moment,” he declared.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you said, waving your hand. “I’ll fix it up later.”

“It’ll take me two seconds,” Jake said, relinquishing his hold on you and moving toward your desk before crawling under it. The space beneath your desk was certainly big enough to fit him, but you weren’t going to deny that he looked a little goofy crowded under there.

You smiled to yourself before getting situated back in your chair, turning on the camera and microphone on your laptop back on. Your colleagues were talking amongst themselves about the equity plan you had spoke of.

“Sorry about that,” you said, trying to get comfortable in your chair despite Jake futzing about with the leg of your desk. “Won’t see him until morning.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” the Dean said, dismissively waving his hand. “Shall we get back into it?”

“Of course,” you replied, looking down to check your notes, catching a glimpse of Jake using a small screwdriver to tighten up one of the screws. Seriously, did he just carry that around in his pocket? “I wondered if we could bring forth a couple of goals to help us promote a representative workforce? I think that would grab peoples’ attention right off the bat.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” one of your colleagues said, just as Jake appeared to be finishing up.

You idly wondered how he planned to get out from under there, but figured you could just turn your camera off for a moment when he gave you the okay.

He did no such thing.

Clearing your throat, you looked through your notes once more and tried not to pay Jake any mind, who had situated himself between your legs. You had no idea what he was playing at, but did your best to ignore him.

“The first goal we drafted up was ‘to increase the recruitment of employees from equity-deserving groups,’” you continued, feeling one of Jake’s hands on your knee. “And the second was ‘To enhance the experience of current employees from equity-deserving groups.’”

“That committee of yours does some good work,” one of your colleagues chuckled. “Those are great!”

“Thank you,” you said, reminding yourself to breathe as if everything were normal as Jake’s other hand settled on your other knee. “I’ll be sure to pass that along to them.”

You turned your microphone off, and while still looking at the camera muttered, “Jacob Seresin, what on earth are you doing down there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, the palms of his strong and calloused hands moving up your thighs. You pursed your lips tightly, trying to bring your legs close together on instinct, but Jake just pushed them further apart. “Keep your legs open, sweetheart.”

The conversation had moved on, and your colleagues were talking amongst themselves about the plan. Where you were the most junior staff person in the meeting, it was unlikely you would be contributing much to the bigger conversation, and for that you were thankful, because you certainly did not want to send your husband on his merry way.

“Jake,” you murmured, briefly closing your eyes and letting out a contented sigh. Though you knew it was gauche, you kept your eyes focused on the small image of yourself on your laptop screen. You knew how responsive you were, what sorts of things Jake did to you. The last thing that you wanted was for it to be extremely noticeable to your colleagues that there was something happening.

So, even though you wanted to be looking down under your desk, between your legs, you looked at yourself.

“God, I can smell you, darlin’,” Jake purred, pressing his face to the inside of one of your thighs. He inhaled sharply, and you made a small sound behind your mouth. “How wet are you?”

What a dick. He knew you couldn’t respond. You shifted a little in your chair, nodding along to the discussion in the meeting, even though you had no fuckin’ clue what they were discussing.

Suddenly, Jake’s face was pressed against your core. Your lips parted in a small gasp, but on screen it just looked like an ordinary sigh. “Soaked,” Jake murmured, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice against you through the layers of fabric that separated the two of you. “Oh my god, baby girl. I could taste you just like this.”

“Any thoughts?”

Fuck.

You turned your microphone back on. “Um,” you stuttered, shifting your hips slightly when you felt Jake’s fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings. “I thought we agreed on seven priorities instead of six. I believe it was Don who alluded to ‘lucky number seven.’”

“You know what? You’re right! Do you remember what the seventh priority was?”

“Recognition.”

When there were no follow up questions, you turned your microphone back off.

Jake’s fingertips brushed along your skin as he pulled your leggings down your legs. You raised your eyebrows at the screen, pretending to be engaged, meanwhile you were suddenly pantsless in front of the team you reported to.

“Oh my god, baby girl,” Jake murmured reverently, and you swallowed hard as Jake’s fingers traced over the edges of your labia through your underwear. As he had observed before, you were already wet, and the sensation of him touching you had you briefly closing your eyes. The drag of the wet fabric against your clit, Jake’s thick fingers pressing against you, had you rolling your hips toward his touch.

The Dean said your name. “Does the Office of Equity and Inclusion being the lead to ensure clarity, confidentiality and transparency make sense to you?”

You begrudgingly turned your microphone back on. “Oh … yes. That, um, seems like an appropriate office to take the lead on that.”

God, you wished the Dean and the rest of your colleagues would just stop asking you for input. Compared to everyone else in the meeting you made significantly less money and had significantly less say in the operations of the university. Then again, they were likely trying to make a point about the whole equity plan by including you.

“You sound so wrecked,” Jake murmured, rubbing your clit through your wet underwear. You whined and lifted your hips toward your touch. “They probably can’t tell, but I can.”

Panicked, you checked to make sure you’d turned your microphone off - you hadn’t. You hoped to any deity that would listen that no one had heard that as you turned your mic back off.

“Jake,” you whispered, trying not to move your lips, “please.”

“Please what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, as his fingers pressed your entrance, digits wrapped in your wet underwear plunging gently into you. “Stop? Keep going?”

“You asshole,” you murmured good naturedly. “Keep - keep going.”

“Mrs. Seresin, you had something to contribute?”

Fuck.

You began to speak, only to have three different people let you know that your mic was turned off. “I, uh, just wanted to double check by what percentage we wanted to reduce our overall workforce analysis gap by?”

“Eighty percent.”

“Thank you!”

While you had been speaking, Jake had pulled your underwear off, grabbing your legs and pulling them over his shoulders. On camera, it looked like you had shifted and sat back a little in your chair. It wasn’t … inaccurate. This time you triple checked that your microphone was off.

“God, look at that sweet little pussy, darlin’,” Jake groaned. You could feel his warm breath against your clit, and swallowed hard. “I can’t wait to put my mouth on it, to taste you.”

You bit at your lip, and keeping your eyes on yourself, attempted to deduce what it would look like if you fisted Jake’s hair in your hand. Unfortunately, it would definitely look like your hand moved between your legs, so you opted to keep your hands above your desk, much to your dismay. You wanted to feel Jake’s soft blond hair through your fingers, pull on it gently, command him closer to your cunt.

Despite Jake’s declarations of wanting to put his mouth on you, you felt his fingers once more. You gasped, hoping it looked like a yawn on camera, rolling your hips into Jake’s touch.

“Jake,” you whined - carefully - hoping that you wouldn’t be asked to speak, or what your thoughts were, again. “Please. Put your mouth on me.”

“Darlin’, you sound so pretty when you’re begging,” Jake hummed, pressing his mouth where your thigh met your loins. “Maybe I want to hear it some more?”

He was not being fair and it drove you mad, but you wouldn’t want him to change.

On your laptop screen, the Dean and your colleagues were in a deep discussion about the second pillar of the plan, inclusive excellence actions,. And while you had been looking forward to this discussion, it paled in comparison to giving your full, undivided attention to your husband, on his knees between your legs, mouth so close to your pussy, strong and calloused palms alternating between moving over your thighs and calves.

“You’re - you’re going to be late,” you attempted to rationalize. God, you wanted him to draw this out, but you also didn’t want him to get in trouble.

“Beg.”

A shiver ran down along your spine; you knew that was his lieutenant voice. You might have come right then and there if you hadn’t been looking forward to his mouth on you so much.

You made sure to watch yourself on screen, you couldn’t let others know how absolutely wrecked you were.

“Honey, please,” you purred, in a voice that you knew slid over Jake like silk. “I need your mouth on me baby. Fuck, you make me feel so good. Put your tongue in my pussy. Please. I need to feel you, and I know you want to taste it.”

“Mrs. Seresin?”

You really wished you could just leave the meeting and that the Dean would stop jokingly calling you that. You could feel Jake’s wide smile, full of teeth, against your skin, everytime he was reminded that you were his.

“Your microphone is off.”

Your hand was trembling as you reached for your mouse, moving the cursor to turn the mic back on. “Sorry,” you apologized, and holy fuck did your voice ever sound strangled. “Talking to myself mostly.”

The Dean laughed. “Quite all right!”

You turned your microphone off, and that was when Jake’s tongue began to move along your lips. Inhaling sharply, you balled your fingers into a fist, dragging them against your desk.

“Jake,” you whined, letting your eyelids slip closed.

“I think you’ve earned this,” he murmured, the audible sound of his swallowing down your juices far too much to bear. Your hips undulated toward him, and he chuckled softly. “Such a good girl.”

He was sucking your clit gently into his mouth, hauling you closer to his face. You gasped, reaching down and gripping the bottom of your desk chair. It was difficult when your focus was drifting between Jake’s mouth on you, and watching yourself on screen to ensure that it didn’t look like what was happening, was in fact, happening.

You bit down on your lip repeatedly, as Jake’s tongue rolled over your clit before descending lower. Slowly, wetly, he licked his way into you. Moaning against your tightly pursed lips, you arched off your chair, wanting more of him inside of you. The tip of his tongue licked against your walls, and he groaned like it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

If you asked him, he would say that it was.

You could feel him shift, and without even looking you could tell that he was rubbing himself through his trousers. There wouldn’t be enough time for him to get changed, and you were certain his other tans were in a laundry basket somewhere.

Jake pulled his tongue from you, and you mourned the loss pathetically, whining and trying to chase his mouth. He placated you by slowly pressing one finger inside of you, as his tongue laved over your clit.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?” he hummed against you. You risked a look down, and holy fuck, you’d never seen a sight so gorgeous. Jake’s mouth on your pussy, his bright green eyes looking up at you. “My mouth, my fingers, my cock. So hungry for it all.”

Tightly closing your eyes, you reached for your phone, and thumbed at it to make it look like you were checking your messages, when really you were snapping a quick photo of Jake - eyes bright, tongue licking along your folds, open palm rubbing at his crotch.

“They’re gonna want to talk to me soon,” you murmured, setting your phone down, fingers flexing against your desk. “Please … make me come. Let me come.”

“God, darlin’.”

Jake wrapped his arms around your thighs, hauled you closer, mouth on a mission. You gasped as he sucked your clit gently into his mouth, and then pressed two of his long, thick fingers inside of you. You chanced a glance down at him again, and god, even he looked like he was beginning to come apart at the seams.

Your eyes quickly lifted back to your screen. You didn’t look too fucked out, but you didn’t look like you probably should have in a meeting. You hoped that it was subtle enough that no one else could notice.

As if on cue, your supervisor asked for your input.

“Um,” you choked out, fingers reaching for the edge of the desk. Oh god, Jake’s tongue was flat against your clit, and his fingers were pumping in and out of you just like he fucked. His fingers weren’t as thick as his cock, but they were still his, and he still knew how to stretch you open slowly, perfectly. “Can you, uh, remind me where - jeez - where we are?”

“The third priority, recruitment.”

Briefly, you hung your head, trying to compose yourself. You could feel the pressure beginning to build at the base of your spine. Jake’s tongue moved inside of you, along his fingers. Oh my god, you were going to come. He was going to make you come on camera. You could see the mischievous twinkle in Jake’s eyes even if you couldn’t see it.

“Right, recruitment,” you repeated, unable to keep yourself from rolling your hips. You wanted to fuck Jake’s face so badly as he brought you to the edge, but there was no way. As if sensing your dilemma, Jake’s free hand gripped your hip and pinned you to the chair. 

You chose to ignore the concerned look on one of your colleague’s faces. “You had some really great wording for the fifth action in a call that we had, but I’m afraid I didn’t capture it. Would you mind repeating it?”

Yes, I fucking mind!

Jake was relentless. You couldn’t move, all eyes were on you. Trembling, you reached for your notebook to flip to the page with relevant notes. Nails scraped against the edge of the desk, as Jake whispered below, “C’mon, darlin’. Be a good girl. Come - come on me. I want to taste you. Baby, let me taste you.”

He was begging you now.

“Tha - thank you,” you stuttered, knuckles turning white as you continued to grip the edge of your desk. “What I had suggested was ‘Develop and - ha - facilitate a specialized candidate caaaaare program aimed at - ohgod - empowering and supporting equity-deserving job seekers naaaaavigating the employment process.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine!” you replied quickly, as Jake crooked his fingers inside of you. “I think I have to sneeze. Be right back!”

You turned both your microphone and your camera off, ignoring the concerned looks from your coworkers.

“Jake!” you cried, head thrown back as you moved your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers, chasing his tongue. “Honey please. Please!”

You tangled your hands in his hair, pulling hard, and he lifted his gaze to yours. You came with a shout, pressing down against Jake’s fingers and face so hard that his knuckles brushed your entrance, that you were positive he wouldn’t be able to get the scent of you out of his nostrils all day. Jake groaned against you, lapping up every bit of your slick. When he eventually pulled away, he licked his fingers before slowly standing up. You grabbed at his wrist, pulling his hand toward your face. He slipped his fingers into your mouth, and fucked your face slowly.

“Baby,” you hummed, leaning into his touch against your face. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip, and you looked up at him. “Baby, what about you?”

“I get home at six am tomorrow,” he purred.

Your eyes lit up, knowing what kind of mood he would be in after enduring the desperation of needing release all night. “I’ll be waiting.”

/end. 

[just-french-me-up]

Harmonies

Dream of the Endless / Hob Gadling | Human AU | Writer Dream - Voice Actor Hob | Explicit | 2.2k Porn with some Plot | Masturbation | Literal voice porn | Dream doesn't quite know what to do with himself honestly

@hardly-an-escape recently had this FABULOUS idea of acclaimed writer Morpheus who secretly publishes popular romance novels under a pen name, who shamefully gets off while listening to voice actor Hob Gadling acting out an explicit scene from one of his romance stories. I would say my hand slipped but this was 100% planned and thought through.

Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Early afternoon, Lucienne had told him. He gave a quick glance at the clock. 5:42PM. Early afternoon was fading into late afternoon one second at a time, with nothing to show for it.

Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Again.

This is stupid, he thought, frustration seeping in. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Surely, they had not finished editing or formatting the whole thing yet, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. Perhaps they had forgotten. Morpheus didn't usually request to be sent the beta recordings. He was more than happy to let them do their job unencumbered, trusting Lucienne to green light everything once it was done. Truth be told, he was barely involved in the whole audiobook side of things, except for, well, writing the damn thing in the first place and having his pen name slapped on the cover. Lucienne had arched an eyebrow at him when he'd asked for the latest recordings out of the blue, but had not been overly curious. A good thing, really. Morpheus carefully avoided any occasion that required him to lie through his teeth. This, no doubt, would have been one of them.

His phone buzzed, startling him.

[6PM 09/05/2023 – The Kindly Ones – Edit Zoom Meeting]

Morpheus turned off the reminder. Too many fires at once. That was his problem, his sister had told him once. Stretching yourself thin until you're see-through, she had said. She was not wrong, of course, although Morpheus would not admit it to her face. She would be far too smug about it.

He refreshed his inbox.

Inbox (1)

Morpheus froze and stared at the screen. There it was. Finally. His pulse racing, he reached for his headphones, struggling to plug it in in his haste. The file was slow to download, the recordings accounting for more than half of the book. Morpheus' fingers tapped impatiently against his desk as he watched the bar crawl to the finish line.

5:51PM.

Surely he could allow himself a quick browse through the file. The meeting with his editor―his other editor―wouldn't start for five more minutes, if not more, should they run a little late on their side. Morpheus found himself wishing they would. Unprofessional, a little voice admonished him.

He opened the file. It had been divided into sections, each corresponding to a chapter. Skip. Skip. Skip. He knew what he was looking for. The book had come out a year ago or so. He still remembered the outline well enough. For a while, he heard nothing but the initial breath of the voice actor, one for each chapter, before he would skip ahead. When he finally let the recording play, the voice engulfed him in its warmth.

Although Morpheus had been the one initially weaving the words and sentences together, they found another dimension and depth in that voice. He was rediscovering his work on someone else's tongue, and the effect left him... intrigued. A few voice actors had given life to the words on the page over the years but this one... This one breathed a soul into the story like none had ever managed to before.

When Morpheus had learnt Robert Gadling would narrate another one of his books, he could not resist.

The beta recordings were rough, lacking the polish of the final product, leaving intakes of breath in and other little imperfections editors would cut out. Morpheus could hear every huff, every chuckle when Gadling would stumble over a word and correct himself, going back to the beginning of the sentence. He could picture the smile on his lips then, the playfully apologetic look at the tech team. He had looked up pictures of him online, once. His face matched his voice: warm, inviting, with a hint of mischief. Suave, even. Morpheus had then closed the tab, embarrassed at his own thoughts.

The scene he had skipped to was professionally relevant, or, at least, he tried to convince himself it was. He had always understood sex scenes to be a tricky thing, for actors. At least, when it came to traditional acting, it was a shared awkwardness, a simulacrum of pleasure played by multiple people who could find solace in the fact that they were all on the same vulnerable boat, camera crew included. Now, voice actors... Acting choices could either make or break a sex scene. It required a subtle mix of smoothness and confidence few could manage. The last thing he wanted was for his words to sound clumsy and awkward, when the goal was quite the opposite. It was Morpheus' authorial prerogative to check every aspect of the audiobook fit his vision, after all.

As the chapter began and Robert Gadling's voice filled his ears, Morpheus imagined him in his recording booth, alone. Some audiobooks had multiple actors playing different characters, but this one only had him credited. There were slight fluctuations of tones, accents and speech patterns, as he switched characters. Morpheus listened intently.

"Gabriel gave a fleeting look downward. Nathan's shirt was soaked, revealing hints of the skin underneath. He tried not to stare, but only managed to do so through conscious and continuous effort. 'You should change your shirt before you catch something,' he told Nathan, his tone as casual as he could manage. 'You could borrow one of mine.' "

The acting was good. There was tension in the words, in the tone. The characters sounded like different people, even though they were played by the same man. Morpheus continued. In the book, things heated up quickly after a long, tentative courtship. He braced himself for the following scene, replaying the words in his head from memory.

" 'It smells like you.' Gabriel stared at him, stunned, unable to look away as Nathan stood in front of him, his own t-shirt and boxers for only garments. 'What?' he managed, his throat dry. 'It smells like you,' Nathan repeated, lifting the fabric to his nose with a smile. 'I like it.' Gabriel's gaze trailed down Nathan's body, only now noticing the growing outline of his cock aga―"

Morpheus paused. He had written those words. He knew those words, from having read and reread them a few dozen times during the writing and editing process. Yet he had never heard them. Especially not in that voice. Even the narration was sensual, almost cheeky, dripping with lust like honey. Clumsy and awkward it was not. It was.... something else entirely. Shaking off the feeling, Morpheus hit the 'play' button again.

" ―inst the taut fabric of his boxers. 'I like it,' Nathan repeated, slowly reaching for his cock through the thin fabric, his fingertips brushing the shape of it, well aware of Gabriel's undivided attention."

The rest of the scene followed, word for word Morpheus' work, yet somehow completely new to his ears. He sat there, enraptured, his eyes staring into nothingness while the rich, luscious voice surrounded him, filled him until it became his only focus.

A lewd, enthusiastic hum rose from the headphones, making Morpheus jump. Every word he had been anticipating thus far, but artistic license? It fitted with the narrative well. Too well. Not Gadling's first brush with erotica, he immediately guessed. He played it again for good measure. The sound was deeply erotic, with just enough warmth and breath. Real. It sounded real. It was followed by a breathy sigh Morpheus could almost feel at the back of his neck. God.

He played it again. He could feel the sound, the anticipation, the desire, the pleasure. Gadling conveyed it with such ease it felt genuinely intimate. Arousing, even. Morpheus ran his hand against the front of his own trousers, feeling the very real erection pushing against the hard fabric. This was ridiculous. Yet he could not stop. The scene kept playing, Robert Gadling's voice purring in his ears, words like caresses and gentle tugs, and he could not help but cup his cock through his jeans, seeking friction. He imagined him in the recording booth, leaning over the microphone, his features fitting the suggestive sounds, his lips wet from running his tongue over them. If he could just get a little further in the scene―

His Zoom alarm went off. Instantly, Morpheus removed his hand and his headphones, his back stiff as a board, a cold wave of panic rushing through him. Fuck! He gave himself a quick look through the camera of his phone. He was blushing slightly, to his utmost annoyance. Nothing he could not blame on bad webcam settings, he thought. The rest could be concealed easily enough. Especially when he was only visible from the waist up.

It was with a slight flush and a distracting, frustratingly hard erection that Morpheus answered his Zoom call, his mind scattered between book royalties, publishing dates, and Robert Gadling's voice still deeply embedded in his skull.

--

It was hours before Morpheus found a minute of free time. Night had fallen, the evening spent in front of a screen or on the phone, discussing the imminent release of his upcoming novel, one whose cover would feature his actual name, this time. Book releases were always exhausting affairs, between planning podcast appearances, book signings, press tours, and the likes. Morpheus disliked the fanfare of it all, the exposure, but could hardly complain. There were worse flip sides of the coin, out there.

At least writing under a pen name saved him the hassle, with the other half of his published work.

Lying on his bed, fresh out of the shower, Morpheus sighed, staring at the ceiling. He felt both exhausted and wide awake, his coffee-fueled brain refusing to quiet down. There were a few things the editor needed his input on in person, tomorrow, something to do with the cover art. He'd promised himself to write, too. Perhaps clean the flat a little. Too many fires at once, his sister's voice echoed in his mind.

His phone buzzed again. Incoming email from Lucienne.

Listened to it yet? Thoughts?

Plenty. Enough to know it was good. Enough to keep the reader listening. Enough for him to want to go back for more.

Going through his emails, Morpheus found the link to the beta recordings, and downloaded it onto his phone. He reached for old earbuds in his bedside table drawer. Where were we?

" 'Come here.' "

The latent desire in that voice was enough to get Morpheus right back where he had been, a few hours ago. Lying on his bed, he kept listening, swallowing hard at any well-placed sigh, any improvised grunt and whimpering sound. Was it even improvised? Did he plan on adding those? Did Gadling discuss it with the adaptation team beforehand? Marked the exact spots where he would do it in the printed script?

" 'You're so beautiful like this, love. Look at you.' "

God.

" 'I have thought about you like this. Hard under me. For me.' "

Hesitantly, Morpheus reached under the waistband of his pyjamas, finding himself hard already. He blushed at his own embarrassment, alone in his bedroom, his hand wrapped around his cock, his own words spilling in his ears. Vain, perhaps. Awfully self-absorbed. But deep down, he knew it was not that. Not really.

" 'Do you want me, Gabriel?' Can you feel I much I want you?' "

He hated himself for including so much narration in this passage, keeping him from the lascivious heat of Gadling's voice, waiting for the dialogue to return like a starving man begs for food. How could he do that? A wanton moan reverberated in his ears, quickly echoed by one of his own, harmonies of pleasure filling his head and his room.

" 'Fuck, you feel so good!' "

Why did his editor even let him publish that? Morpheus' mind was bridging the gaps between dialogue bits, ignoring the narration in favour of more pleasurable mental stimulation. He pictured Robert Gadling in his recording booth, focused over the microphone, his lips pressed into a sinful hum, his eyes closed. Gadling next to him, his mouth pressed against his ear, spewing new words, ones he did not write, ones of his own.

" 'Let me see those eyes.' "

Morpheus whined against his pillow, both from pleasure and frustration. He hated this. This was... mortifying, and yet he could not stop. He arched his back, chasing his pleasure.

" 'Fuck! I've waited for this for so long.' "

Morpheus came in his pyjamas in a muffled grunt, the release helping nothing with the shame spreading through him. It brought him some clarity, at least. Disgruntled, he yanked the earbuds out of his ears, Robert Gadling's voice reduced to a hushed whisper, the siren's song finally muffled. He looked down at himself, suddenly aware of the mess he'd made. Great. Fantastic.

His phone buzzed again. It was Lucienne.

Do you want the edited files once they are done? They would love your feedback before they start trimming it down.

Morpheus sighed, struggling against the brightness of the screen.

Yes, tell them I would like them.

[naranjapetrificada]

The first thing I should ever have said about Izzy and the last thing I intend to say until at least October 26th.

[Although I am not Her strongest soldier, so who knows if I will stick the landing.]

So to start with, I was a "late" arrival to the show. I knew it existed of course, but I only occasionally saw things that reminded me it existed. The first time I saw a mention of "grumpy/sunshine" it was with a picture of Ed and Stede, so I guess on some level I knew there was shipping going on, but that was literally all I knew. I didn't even know it involved Blackbeard lol.

Which is all to say that I first approached and watched season 1 removed from basically anything anyone had to say about it. I think what actually got me to watch it wasn't anything anyone had to say either, it was from youtube recommendations? Like I think I had watched a couple Taika interviews or something and ofmd stuff started showing up? So after catching a few clips and intentionally spoiling the kiss for myself (life is too short to be queerbaited) I watched it in April/May 2023, and was Changed by it the way so many other people were. It grabbed me so hard I started looking for fics, and when fic grabbed me even harder I became a regular tumblr user for the first time ever in June 2023.

What I didn't do, before the second half of 2023, was care particularly much about Izzy Hands.

I remember describing him as psychologically fascinating to the first IRL friend I talked to about the show, and joking that he just needed a good dom. As much as his decision to call in the navy was a threat to Stede's and Ed's lives, I saw his actions as part of a thing needed for the story, and while I knew he was one of the season's villains there wasn't really any heat behind that assessment.

For me he was there to set things in motion, and to serve the narrative in certain ways, to be a foil, more storytelling tool than man. That doesn't mean I didn't think Con did an excellent job adding layers to him, he absolutely made Izzy take up space and feel more present and textured than he otherwise might have. But when I began to zoom out and consider things on meta level, Izzy existed to do a certain thing or occupy a certain place in relation to the narrative and other characters more than anything else. And that was fine.

Then I started reading meta here, and found myself surrounded by passionate conversations about Izzy from many directions occurring with an intensity that I couldn't wrap my brain around. I saw people tying themselves into knots to justify and excuse the behavior of a textual antagonist, and I was baffled and because I still saw Izzy for what his role in the narrative was, it literally made no sense to see his behavior explained away. In the framework I brought to the fandom when I first arrived, trying to explain away Izzy's behavior would be like looking at a forest fire and trying to explain away processes like combustion and oxidation. Or if you'll allow me to borrow another extended, nature-based metaphor from a fic in an entirely different fandom:

Again, because from where my head was at, it didn't make sense to look at Izzy's morality as a zero sum game because in this metaphor, he was functionally just a brackish body of water. I'm not saying the morality is brackish, I'm saying the morality was literally not the point because like an estuary, an antagonist "must exist" because antagonists exist for specific reasons directly related to storytelling goals.

So there was no real heat behind my feelings about him or his actions, beyond the natural emotional reactions we have to characters and their behaviors before we zoom out. I was of course upset with his treatment of Lucius, which was targeted compared to other members of the crew. I was annoyed with the way he talked to and about Ed. I laughed when his plans had the equal and opposite results of what he intended, which you could argue happened with every single plan he made for the entirety of season 1. And yes, especially as a Black person living in the US, I felt the fear and betrayal that comes from seeing someone call the cops (which given the show and its writers, it does not feel like a stretch to describe calling the navy that). I wondered if there was any coming back from a choice like that, which is a big overriding question for the series as a whole.

I'm not here to debate any of the points in the previous paragraph. I know how I feel and you feel how you feel and there's already been so much said about the morality of it all by people who have explained themselves well, so let them convince you or not. Instead I've been trying to talk about the two sides of my experience before and after getting into the fandom with Izzy.

Before: Izzy Hands, Narratively Useful Antagonist Portrayed Compellingly And Effectively by Con O'Neill.

After: Izzy Hands, Unfortunate Avatar Of The Sadly Common Tendency For Certain Fans To Hyperfocus On A White Antagonist Or Secondary Character When There Already Exists A Protagonist They're A Foil Of (And Also It Looks Bad TO Do That When The Protagonist Is Someone With A Marginalized Identity).

I'm not here to argue the merits of those assessments either, because that's not the point. The point is the vast gulf between them and how the latter does such an incredible disservice to the Izzy we were given and that so many people claim to love. The latter comes from a place where morality is the focus, which I'm sorry y'all, feels like it originates with people who refuse to countenance Izzy's role in the story as well as his characterization.

Viewers who were willing to see Izzy as an antagonist, who don't view the word "antagonist" as a value judgement in and of itself, who don't think that finding an antagonist charismatic or compelling means anything about their own morality, those people can look at the show we were given and take it for what it was made to be. I'm not saying that it's only the Izzy stans (not enjoyers, not jar people) who start fights or that people who understand that Izzy is an antagonist don't also have deep morality related feelings about him and his actions in the first season. What I am saying is that sanding off Izzy's rough edges and trying to make him into something he isn't poisons even the possibility of having a discussion about him because people enter the conversation with two completely different understandings of reality. If you cannot accept the job that season 1 Izzy was given to do to move the story along, well you might as well have watched a completely different show for how much that fanon Izzy has anything to do with the canon one.

This show deserves better than that. The writers deserve better than that. Con O'Neill deserves better than that. Israel Basilica Hands deserves better than that. We all do.

[jennay]

You were Wearing Converse

Request: Hey bestie! So I have an idea for a request and you can write it however you see fit (I trust you). Maybe reader is a new assistant for Bryan to help takes photos for the shows and Noah starts getting feelings as the tour progresses and gives reader little smiles and goofy faces when she’s taking pictures of him? Maybe it can lead to him getting the guts to ask reader out and they go on a date on an off day.

An: ok first of all I'm nervous. Second of all I love this and I hope you all enjoy. I had pictures for imagination of the photoshoot but the links weren't working 😭 thanks for bearing with me. If you want to be added to the tag list let me know.

Heres the picture of the duck drawing that was mentioned ( I don’t know who originally did it but I love them for it)

Noah Master List

Words are about 3600ish

"You've got to be kidding me." You sigh as you browse through the photos on your laptop.

Bryan leans over to see what you're looking at. He compares his shots with yours. He settles back on the couch and crosses his legs. "Do you think he's doing it on purpose?" He wonders, his eyes studying the image of Noah making a face at you. "He never pulls that crap in my photos."

You keep scrolling, hoping for a decent one. "Every single one." You exclaim, getting frustrated. "This guy."

Bryan chuckles and shuts his laptop. "Damn it, Noah."

You shake your head and smile despite yourself. "If he does this tonight, I'm done." You joke. "I'm just walking off stage, and that's the end for me." You stand up, setting the laptop on the table of the tour bus. "I'm gonna go talk to him about it."

Bryan's eyebrow raises as he watches you head to the door. "Please be good. I don't want to fire you. We've done so good together on this tour, and if you piss Noah off, I'm gonna end up firing you!"

You swing the door open, smirking at Brian, "I'll be me…and we'll see how that goes. It's been nice working with you, just in case." You joke, "I'll wait till the show's over tonight...maybe that's a better idea." You sigh, "I guess I can stay and check the rest of these pictures and see if there's at least something good from the other three."

That night, you felt adrenaline coursing through your veins as you followed the boys on the stage with your camera, capturing their every move as they rocked to the music.

The crowd was roaring, the lights were flashing, and the sound was deafening. You loved every second of it. You crouched low, zoomed in, and angled your shots to get the best views of them.

You moved swiftly and skillfully, dodging the wires and the fans. You made your way to Noah, standing at the edge of the stage, singing passionately. His voice was raw and powerful, sending shivers down your spine.

You snapped a picture of him, and he looked up at you with a grin. He flashed you the cheesiest smile he could manage, showing his teeth. His eyes sparkled with mischief and joy. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a warm flutter in your chest.

Noah fucking Sebastian was a different person when you were behind the lens. He put on a show for Bryan's pictures, acting tough and cool. He flipped him off, smirked at him, and glared at him with dark eyes. He wanted to look badass for the photos, fans, and image. He played the role of the rebellious rock star perfectly.

But when it came to you, he let his guard down. He was more relaxed and silly. He made faces, winked at you, and stuck his tongue out. He didn't care about looking perfect for you. He just wanted to make you laugh. Half of your pictures were too goofy or blurry to be used for Bryan's Instagram posts or the Bad Omen's official account. But you didn't mind. You cherished those moments of genuine connection with him.

You shook your head, moving out of the way and to Jolly's corner. You could usually get pictures of him without any sass. He was more serious and focused than Noah, but he still had his charm. That was until tonight.

Tonight, he seemed to be in a playful mood as well. He joined Noah in making funny faces and gestures at you, trying to distract you from your work.

You looked across the stage to Bryan, who motioned for you to come closer to him. He had a smirk on his face that told you he had something planned. You wondered what he was up to.

Your eyes met Jolly's again, and you got the perfect shot of him and Noah standing beside each other. They looked like brothers in arms, ready to take on the world with their music. The only downfall? Their tongues were out of their mouth once again.

They looked like two kids having fun, not two grown men performing for thousands of people.

"Fuckers." You muttered as you jogged over to Bryan.

He pointed to Folio, and you nodded without asking questions; you knew Bryan would test your theory. He stayed closer to Noah and Jolly while you stayed near the drummer and bassist, snapping some of the best pictures you've taken the whole tour.

When you turned around, Noah was standing somewhat beside you. He winked in your direction, making your heart skip a beat. You felt entranced by him as he walked closer to you, melting with each smile he gave you. You took that as an opportunity to snap a few pictures of him up close.

For once, he cooperated and gave a fierce look that matched his voice and attitude on stage.

In the pit of your stomach, you felt a weird fear like Noah suddenly turned into a fire demon, brown eyes now black as he danced around the flames. His back faced you as he gave deathly growls into the mic, sending chills down your spine.

As the night ended, you felt better knowing you had a few shots that Bryan could use for his social media posts and promotions. You could save these for your portfolio and some personal memories of this fantastic night with Noah and the rest of the band.

You smile as you watch Noah address the crowd of people who have gathered to see the show. He thanks them for their support and tells them how much he loves them.

The house lights flip on as he and the rest of the band walk off the stage, leaving behind a trail of cheers and applause. You and Bryan are waiting for them at the back, ready to pack up and head to the next city.

Noah quickly walks over to you, his face glistening with sweat and his chest heaving with breaths. He still has that adrenaline rush in his veins, making him look more alive than ever.

"What did you think?" He asks you, smirking as if he already knows the answer.

"I think I'm happy you finally let me get some good shots and let me do my job." You say, playfully pushing his chest with your camera. "You're kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?" You tease him back.

Noah laughs, pushing his hair out of his face with his hand. His brown eyes sparkle with mischief and charm. "So I've heard." He says, leaning closer to you.

You can smell his cologne mixed with his sweat and feel a flutter in your stomach.

You want to be mad at him, but you can't. You've only known him and the band for this tour, but you feel a good connection with them. They're honest and genuine, unlike other artists you've worked with. They don't live off the drama of the industry; they just love making music and sharing it with their fans. And Noah... he's something else.

He's talented, charismatic, funny, and sweet. He always makes you laugh or blush with his jokes and compliments. He's also incredibly handsome, with messy hair, a stubbled chin, and muscular tattoed arms. You've caught yourself staring at him more than once and noticed him doing the same.

You give him one last smile before turning around to leave. You have a lot of work to do before the next show, and you don't want to keep him from his friends or fans.

"See ya later, Noah." You say over your shoulder.

As you turn around, you feel a gentle tug on your wrist, stopping you from moving forward.

"Wait," Noah calls out.

You turn around again, looking up at him with curious eyes. What could he possibly want? You wonder.

"Go out with me tomorrow." He stammers out anxiously, his eyes darting around the room. His face flushes with a deep crimson as he realizes what he just said. He looks at you with a hopeful expression, waiting for your answer.

Your eyes widen with surprise, your mouth dropping open. He was flirtatious with you, but you thought that was part of his charming personality.

You never expected him to ask you out on a date. "Me?" You gasp in disbelief, pointing at yourself. "No." You nervously laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Your eyes widen even more when you realize what you said and quickly correct yourself. "I mean, yes. Sorry." You laugh again, feeling awkward and embarrassed. "I'm tired. I'm gonna go now. I'll see you tomorrow." You say, holding your camera close to your chest and rushing away from him.

You were getting bored waiting for Noah to return. He wasn't late, but you were growing impatient, wondering what he had planned for the night. You had been on tour with him for a while now, and you were looking forward to spending some quality time together.

You looked around the room, trying to find something to do. Your eyes landed on a little yellow duck beside a Sharpie on the coffee table. You had an idea, one that might keep you entertained till Noah got back.

You sat on the couch inside the tour bus with your legs up to your chest, drawing on what you assumed was a toy duck a fan had probably thrown to one of the guys. You wanted to make it look as much like Noah as possible. You swiped on some scribbles for hair and his tattoos. You didn't consider yourself an artist, but you felt like it would get the point across.

As you drew, you thought about all the fun times you had shared with Noah. You remembered the first time you met him and how he had made you laugh with his silly jokes. You thought about all the adventures you had been on together and how much he meant to you.

You hear the bus door open and footsteps closer to you before Noah stands before you. "Whatchya got there?" He asks while pointing to the duck.

"Oh," you laugh, "I was just drawing." You set the Sharpie down and toss the small rubber duck to Noah.

He chuckles, turning the duck around to observe all the markings. "Is this supposed to be me?" he holds the duck up to his face and smiles softly. "Pretty much twins."

You both laugh as Noah sits down beside you on the couch. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I just got here a few minutes ago. Long enough to do my art project." you smile brightly. "So what's the plan, Romeo?"

"Well," he drapes his arm over your shoulder, "Matt's letting us use his rental for the night. I signed up for a cooking class, so there's the food part. Anything you want to do?"

You shrug. "I'm bringing my camera," you say, pointing to the table. "Maybe a little photo shoot is in order because with all the bullshit photos you've given me…. I deserve at least that." You giggle.

He nods knowingly, "OK, but I get to take some of you too. It's only fair."

You roll your eyes at him, "I don't know about that. Maybe if you're lucky, should we head out or?" You stand up, looking down at your casual clothing. "Am I dressed appropriately?"

Noah leans forward, a smile on his face. "If you aren't dressed appropriately, then I sure as fuck need to change."

You shake your head and let out a giggle. "You look good. You always do."

He stands up and follows you to the door, "Stop it." He blushes and tries to hide his face in his sweater. "Let's get out of here."

The drive to the cooking class wasn't awkward like you thought it would be. You spent a significant amount of time laughing and giggling like normal. Noah let you choose the music that surprised you, mainly because he made fun of everything you listened to. He listened with a smile, promising he wouldn't criticize your singing voice. He encouraged you to dance with him and act like an idiot.

As you both arrived at the cooking class, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. You were both eager to learn something new and have fun together. Noah was the perfect partner for this adventure.

He was charming, witty, and always knew how to make you laugh.

Throughout the class, you worked together, chopping vegetables, stirring sauces, and tasting each other's creations.

Debating which was better, you swore it was his, but he denied it, claiming yours was better. You were the more experienced one, after all.

You were thrilled to get your chance to shine finally. You had been waiting for this moment for so long. Photos. Photos that he promised you as compensation for all the crappy shots he forced you to take on stage.

"Oh, I see. You just want to keep a collection of my photos to stare at when I'm not around." He jokes as he follows you down the street.

"I want photos to show that I'm a damn good photographer and I didn't waste a year taking lousy photos of the lead singer," you retort, chuckling. "Come on." You gesture to the dim alleyway.

Noah stays close behind you and rests against the brick wall. His eyes drift to your side, and his jaw drops slightly. "A cat." He points under the fire escape, and instantly, you lose his focus.

You observe as he approaches the cat, making some sounds to attract its attention, and the cat seems fearless, allowing Noah to lift it without any mistrust of humans.

You grin as you witness the two, who have hit it off right away. "How did you-" You hoist the camera and capture a quick shot of Noah and the cat he names Layla. "I can't believe it just let you snuggle up. Noah, you're like a fairy tale hero." You tease, clicking another photo, this time nearer to the two.

Noah smiles from ear to ear, petting the cat. He inches closer to you, leaning in; he lets you pet his new pal. "She's adorable."

You reach out gingerly, "How do you know it's a she, could be a he, maybe it's Leo, not Layla…" You joke while peeking at him, smiling and concealing the grin that wants to show.

"He or she…is very adorable." He corrects himself, making the adorable part sound ironic. "OK, Snow White. It's getting dark can we get a few more shots?"

He looks at you with sandness, letting the cat down. He walks to the brick wall next to you and gazes at you with curious eyes, "Here?" He says, halting in front of the area of the building that has red and green vines crawling across the walls.

You nod, looking while raising your camera. "Take your sweater off." You say, squatting down.

"Trying to undress me now?" He chuckles but follows your request and flings his sweater at you.

"Noah!" You gasp as the sweater softly lands on your face. "You almost made me drop my camera." You fling the sweater over your shoulder, catching a whiff of his cologne. You back away a little, pressing the button to take the photos. "You're really loyal to the band, huh?" You point to his shirt that displays his band logo.

"Always loyal." He mockingly rolls his eyes, "It's not like I have a lot of options, y/n." He turns his head as if to spot something on the far horizon, and you seize this chance to snap a few more photos. He looks intense, and this man claims he doesn't have good angles; what a joke that was.

Suddenly, you hear a loud siren and see flashing lights bouncing off the walls.

A police car pulls up next to the alleyway, and a cop steps out. "Hey! What’re you doing here?" He shouts, walking towards you.

You freeze in panic, clutching your camera. Maybe the alleyway was a little suspicious at this time of night.

"We're just taking some photos, officer. Nothing illegal." He says, trying to sound calm.

The cop looks at you suspiciously, then at the cat under the fire escape. "Is that your cat?" He asks, pointing at it.

You and Noah exchange a glance, then shake your heads. "No, sir. We just found it here. It's very friendly." You say, hoping he won't ask any more questions.

The cop nods, then looks at your camera. “What do you got there?”

Noah steps in front of you as if he knows what will happen next and feels the desire to protect you from something happening to you. "We're not doing anything wrong here, right?" He questions.

The cop frowns, then looks at Noah's shirt. "Are you in a band?" He asks curiously.

Noah nods, smiling slightly. "Yes, sir. I'm the lead singer of Bad Omens."

The cop's eyes widen in recognition. "Bad Omens? My daughter is a huge fan of yours. She has posters of you guys all over her room." He says enthusiastically.

Noah laughs nervously, then looks at you. You smile back at him, feeling relieved.

The cop seems to have forgotten about the photos and the cat. He pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of his daughter holding an album of Bad Omen's from 2016. "Can I get an autograph for her? She would be so happy." He asks eagerly.

Noah agrees and signs his name on a piece of paper, writing a nice message, "Thanks for being a fan otherwise your dad might have arrested me."

The cop laughs at what he's written and thanks him profusely. "You two have a good night. And be careful around here." He says kindly, then gets back in his car and drives away.

You and Noah let out a sigh of relief, then burst into laughter. You can't believe what just happened.

You look at him with a mix of admiration and disbelief. "What the hell just happened?" You whisper, your voice is still shaky from the adrenaline rush. "That was…I don't even know what to say. That was insane."

Noah's eyes are wide with shock. He grabs your hand and pulls you out of the dark alley, away from the scene of your mischief. "Let's get out of here." He says, his voice urgent.

You nod wordlessly, following his lead as he walks quickly to the car. You feel his hand warm and firm in yours, and you squeeze it for comfort. "Noah?" You murmur, looking up at him.

He turns his head to you with a gentle smile, his eyes softening. "What's up?"

"You're holding my hand…" You point out, lifting your linked fingers. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you see him blush.

He clears his throat, "Oh, right, sorry. Do you mind?" He asks, looking nervous.

You shake your head, "No, it's sweet…" You say, smiling back at him. You spot a bench near the lake and point to it. "But I think we need to talk about this and what it means." You say, feeling serious.

He nods and follows you to the bench, sitting close to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. "OK," He says, crossing his legs casually. "Let's talk." He says, grinning at you.

You take a deep breath, "Well, what happens after the tour ends? We live in different states and I travel for work just like you do for different musicians. I'm never in one place." You say, feeling worried.

He sighs heavily, "I've been thinking about this before I asked you out… How about you become a full-time member of the crew? You and Bryan are amazing and you don't disrupt our show. You do your work and you don't cause any trouble." He says, sounding hopeful.

He tilts his head to gaze into your eyes, anxiety flashing in his. He waits anxiously as you press your lips together and nod. "OK, well, I love that idea but, I have anxiety and I need to know this is realistic with us living in different states." You say, feeling uncertain.

He shrugs, "I think we can make it work if we really care. We can communicate and see each other. It's not hopeless." He says, sounding confident. "I've thought about this since the first time I met you." He admits.

"You don't remember the first time you met me! Lies." You giggle.

He smirks as he stares you in the eyes. "You were wearing converse and that cute ass summer dress. You came in to the studio and I almost had a heart attack."

You look at him with a shy smile, feeling your cheeks heat up. He leans in slowly, his eyes locked on yours. He brushes his lips against yours softly and gently. You close your eyes and kiss him back, feeling a spark in your heart. He wraps his arms around you and deepens the kiss, making you melt in his embrace. You run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

"I really like you, Noah." You say, feeling happy. "But I'm terrified."

He smiles and kisses your nose. "I really like you too." He says, "I'm terrified, but at least we can feel like this together." He teases. "We'll make it work. I have a good feeling about it."

You snuggle with him on the bench allowing his arms to wrap around you and watch the stars twinkle on the lake. You decide to follow your heart and see what happens. In the long run, you knew this would be worth it. Noah was worth it.

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady @a-villain-vying-for-attention

[lonesome-witching]

Doesn't the Hero Get the Girl?

The second (and currently last) Spider-Robin prompt. Thank you for the anonymous prompt. It's been a blast writing this even if it was very far out of my comfort zone.

You can read my previous prompts here. Or if you want you can even send in your own prompt.

Nancy fell down on the couch. It had been torture to get home. The subway had gotten stuck and it had taken an hour longer than it usually would have. So, opening the front door to her humble apartment had never been accompanied with this much relief. 

Relief that evaporated into thin air when she turned on the TV. 

“Spider-Man is taking a beating.” The news reporter said, microphone clutched in his hands and Nancy recognized him from the office. The guy was a jerk. Every time they ran into each other he started flirting with her as if she hadn’t already rejected him a dozen times.  

But right now he had her undivided attention, something he apparently craved. Blurry images of Robin in her Spider-Man outfit flashed on the screen. Flashes of Robin falling to the ground, hard enough for the camera to shake. Flashes of Robin crawling back to her feet, slightly shaky and clutching at her shoulder for a brief moment. 

Nancy shuffled toward the edge of the couch. Her right hand pressed to her mouth. 

“Oh.” She gasped when Robin got knocked down again. 

She shouldn’t watch this. But she couldn’t look away. Her heart beating heavily in her chest. They had only been dating for a little while. And this was the first time since their first kiss that Robin seemed to be losing a fight. 

She’d get back up. She had to get back up. Why wasn’t she getting back up? 

Nancy hadn’t even noticed that the fingers of her left hand were tapping against her thigh. This was worse torture than the subway. 

“Come on. Come on. Come on, Robin. I can’t lose you.” She mumbled to the grainy image on the TV screen. 

A dark figure slowly approached Robin who was still on the ground. 

“Please, Robin. Get up! GET UP!!!” 

At the very last second, Robin jumped up, kicking the figure back. 

Nancy breathed out a heavy sigh. But as the camera zoomed in on Robin who was now taking the upper hand, Nancy noticed the cuts in the suit, she noticed the blood and the soft bruises that were forming. She definitely noticed the way Robin’s arm was angled, as if she was trying not to move it too much even though she kept hitting the dark figure. 

“It looks like Spider-Man did it once again. The people in this city can sleep tight tonight knowing Spider-Man is here to keep them safe.” The jerk said, the camera once again focused on his smug face. 

“Spider-Woman, you idiots.” But Nancy had a smile on her face. Robin would come waltzing through that door any second now. 

It took 5 minutes before Nancy turned off the TV. Her eyes focused on her own front door instead. But the door didn’t open. Robin didn’t come in. 

Nancy got up from the couch and started pacing the room. Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. 

“Nance?” 

Nancy jumped up. Right outside her kitchen window, on the fire escape, stood Spider-Man still fully suited up. She was holding on to her waist. Nancy quickly slid open the window, pulling her girlfriend into the apartment.

“Careful, Nance.” Robin’s voice was muffled by the mask. 

“Oh God, Robin. You scared the shit out of me. Are you okay?” 

“Sorry.” Robin slumped against the kitchen counter. “I couldn’t walk through the front door like this. You have too many neighbors.” 

“Robin, are you okay?” Nancy was pulling at the mask, she needed to see Robin’s eyes. She needed to know Robin was okay. But she didn’t look okay. She was barely standing, half of her weight being supported by the counter behind her. 

“I’m fine.” She sighed as Nancy dropped the mask to the floor. But there were red bruises on her cheeks. 

“You don’t look fine. Come here, you need to sit down. And you need to get this damned suit off.” 

“Want to undress me already? I just got home, Nance.” Robin tried to smile but her face turned into a grimace when she tried to walk towards the couch. 

“She’s still got jokes.” 

“Always.” 

“Come on, lean on me.” Their eyes locked and Robin’s expression softened, the pain vanishing for a brief second before returning full force. But she softly nodded and put one of her arms around Nancy’s shoulders. In return, Nancy carefully wrapped her arm around Robin’s waist and pulled her along one step at a time. 

Once Robin sat on the couch, they maneuvered around each other to get the suit off, revealing a plethora of cuts and bruises and open wounds.

“Just give me a second. I’m gonna get the first aid kit.” 

Robin was softly groaning when Nancy came back, falling to her knees next to the superhero. 

“You ought to be more careful next time, babe.” Nancy whispered as she cleaned the wounds. Her fingers softly caressing the skin around them, careful not to cause anymore pain. 

“But then we wouldn’t have these fun patching up moments. I really like the way your hands feel.” Robin sounded sleepy, exhaustion quickly overtaking her now that she was in the comfort of Nancy’s home.

“Well if you weren’t broken and bruised you could feel my hands in a lot more places and it would be a lot more pleasurable.” 

Robin hummed with a smile. “I’ll heal.” 

“You better.” 

“And I’m fine. I’m sure we can have some fun.” One of Robin’s hands tangled into Nancy’s hair. 

“Okay there, Casanova. You’re all patched up. Let’s get you to bed.” 

“Take me to bed, Nancy Wheeler.” 

Nancy took Robin into her arms, holding her upright and slowly walking towards the bedroom. She placed Robin on the bed, tucking her in. Just as Nancy tried to move away, Robin’s hand grabbed for her wrist, pulling her on top of her. 

“Be careful.” Nancy laughed. 

Robin didn’t reply. She simply leaned up, pressing her lips to Nancy’s. Their lips slotted together perfectly. Like they had always been meant to kiss each other. Sometimes Nancy liked to believe they had been. 

“You need to get some rest.” Nancy pulled back slightly, stroking Robin’s bruised cheek. 

“Doesn’t the hero get the girl?” Robin sighed, already trying to close the distance once again. 

“You’ve already got me, Robin.”

[nburkhardt]

You Called My Name (My Whole World Changed)

(Please listen to, Before I Loved You by Phillip Phillips to know the music)

TheHair was a mystery to the public, suddenly appearing one day with ‘Second Chance’ and never posting again. Not even an announcement of an official release of the full song, everyone wondering if the person just left it alone because they wanted people to come up with their own version or if they realized it was a mistake and went back home.

Steve smiled as he heard the music fill the room and he couldn’t believe how well it came together. How he managed to write that in only a year of being together. But it’s here and he feels giddy that others will hear it, that he’ll hear it officially. He’s read the lyrics in the notebook, has felt the words traced on his skin. It’s not that much of a surprise but he knows he’ll love it and Steve can’t wait.

The video that he uses is full of clips of them together from the last year. The first one is of them slow dancing in his living room cropped enough so both their heads aren’t shown, then it’s a mix of clips he’s taken. Of his partner sitting in the driver seat a hand on the wheel and the other shaking in the direction of the camera but the face is blocked by wild curls, another clip is the camera zooming in on someone tuning a red warlock guitar. The clip switches right before the face is shown. Before it ends it’s a quick slideshow of a bunch of their pictures, ending on a single picture of the two of them kissing. Steve’s leaning on an amp and the other is pulling him close.

TheHair: I was barely alive, always hiding the pain. I was nobody before I loved you. #happyoneyearanniversary

He took a deep breath before finally hitting post and immediately putting the phone down and pushing away from the desk. Walking into the other room listening to the laughter and what sounds like an argument coming from the kitchen, he stood against the doorway to watch his boyfriend and his best friend argue over what looks to be their last brownie.

“It’s mine! My sunshine made it, so move away!” His boyfriend moved to grab it but his friend moved again, “come on Jeff! I had like two, Stevie doesn’t bake these often they’re special!”

Jeff rolled his eyes, shifting again to block the counter, “you live with the guy, Eddie! Just ask for more!”

He smiled as Eddie pouted, tried to grab it again before giving up and crossing his arms. “Fine. Take the brownie, I’ll just have- Stevie!” His whole face lights up and he moves quickly to throw himself at him, easily catching him in a hug. “My lovely, beautiful, amazing boyfriend. Stevie, darling, don’tcha think brownies sound wonderful right now?”

Laughing, he shakes his head and presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before pulling away and finding Jeff shake his head and walking pass them, leaving them alone. “Did you and Jeff really just argue over a brownie?”

“Hm, maybe? How much did you hear? Wait, why are you back in here? I thought you had something to do in the studio? Wait, wait! You got the song back today right? How does it sound? Is it the one I read? Did it come together the way you wanted?” Eddie’s words flying out and he bounced out of his arms, looking around for his phone, “did you post it? Where’s my phone! JEFF, do you have my- no wait ah-ha!” He held up his phone with a wiggle before turning it on and facing away from him.

Before Steve knows it, he hears his own voice.

‘I was nobody, nobody, nobody. You called my name and my whole world changed. Cause I love somebody cause I love somebody. I was playing with fire didn’t care if it burned and I was barely alive, always hiding the hurt. I was nobody nobody nobody before I loved you’

“Stevie” Eddie’s voice is soft and there’s a sniffle, turning around he has tears in his eyes and a smile, “Stevie- oh my god. This is, this is beautiful, honey. I love it so much, I love you”

Eddie’s walking back towards him and Steve meets him half way, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, Eddie. I love you so much, happy anniversary my love”

~~~

So, I didn’t plan on writing more of this au. But I heard this song and immediately thought of Steve and of course, Steddie. But mostly Steve writing this for Eddie 🥰

Hopefully everyone also gets the same vibe I got when I first heard this song because I was listening to it while writing this and a little bit of doubt went into my ear and I had to double check with @i-less-than-three-you 🤣

ALSO! Just so everyone knows, Steve landed in some tough spots being by himself and not knowing what he’s doing yet. That’s why his account got ignored. He met Eddie at a bar and they don’t click immediately but became friends and it took another month before getting together officially. Eddie’s band, Corroded Coffin is an up and coming band and their manager ended up overhearing Steve singing to himself one day and fast forward to this fic, is signed and making music officially. (Steve still hasn’t met Robin yet)

[wannabepapa]

imagine being cursed with pregnancy when people have dirty thoughts about you. it’s difficult for you to be in public due to this — the constant stares and steadily growing midsection being a burden and distraction when you try to shop. now you have your groceries, clothes, and anything else you can get delivered straight to your door without any contact with people. you’re thankful that the job you have is at home so you don’t have to worry about your coworkers or the general public to cast their lustful glances upon you.

you’re in a zoom meeting with your boss and some coworkers for a presentation when you feel something stirring within you. it’s familiar and warm deep in your womb, alerting you that someone was thinking about you. eyes flicking between each person in the meeting you see one of your coworkers seeming to bore holes into you. stomach clenching in both panic and worry you only hope that you can keep a straight face as your body changes for the pregnancy. the only danger is that the meeting is an hour long, you can already feel your middle getting heavier, and know that they’ll be staring at you the whole meeting.

half an hour in your stomach is straining behind the waistband of your pants and shirt. it’s happening so fast. too fast. what the hell were they thinking about? you’re unable to keep still, having to wiggle your hips to try getting comfortable in the chair and rubbing at your expanding girth as it seems to be growing quicker now. you are desperate to know what is going on in their mind. you keep looking back to them on your screen, noticing their hooded eyes as they’re focus is clearly on you and only you. it’s a desperate juggle between keeping focused on the meeting and holding back whimpering moans as you grow wider. the end is almost in sight, you can last until the end of the meeting. everyone is saying their goodbyes as the meeting is being wrapped up. finally you can take care of your delicate predicament, allow yourself to burst out of your clothes that feel so tight it’s very uncomfortable. as you close out zoom you lean back in your chair and wince while the waistband digs further into your belly. taking short shallow breaths you hook both thumbs into your pants to push them down gingerly — you don’t want to destroy another pair of pants. at the pressure release my belly juts out suddenly, able to finally unleash it’s full size while the seams of my shirt stretch past their limits and ride up my rotund stomach. unable to move from your seat as your heart is hammering in your chest and breath hitched as you try to calm your wild thoughts. what pulls you from your thoughts is a ping from your instant messenger with a message from your horny coworker wanting to talk with you. playing with fire is dangerous in these circumstances — pushing full term in size and ready to pop any second — but you want to know about their dirty thoughts and maybe seeing how they’d react to seeing your gravid form. ALTERNATIVE: you get on a personal video call with your coworker (belly purposefully on display) and talk about the meeting. you can still feel your belly getting fuller, the skin feeling tighter and warmer as the bump grows further. nothing is held back as you grunt, groan, and squirm in your chair helplessly trying to get comfortable. they’re clearly hornier now than during the meeting by the rapid expansion of your already cumbersome form. you’re unsure how much larger you could possible get when you feel your belly drop heavily in your lap and squeeze roughly with a contraction. you’re certain that the smart idea would be ending the call immediately but you want to be on display as you push out this child with your coworker getting hornier by the second and cumming at the sight of labor progression. ALTERNATIVE 2: the longer they watch, the more babies grow within your womb. you’re getting bigger and bigger as the first child crown at your vagina. you have never done something like this before. you aren’t sure how many more fetus’ will grow in your womb but your mind is melting at the idea of being in a state of growth and birth for as long as the call lasts or the last child is being pushed out of you. whatever comes first.

[bradenthompson]

The Starfield Experience: Crimson Fleet

Never before have I been so mixed on a video game. And that's really something, bc I'm a little shit who isn't happy with anything.

I thought, rather than attempt to "review" Starfield, I'm just gonna catalogue my journey through the respective faction questlines, culminating in actually doing the main story. To star: Space Pirates. Yo ho hohohohohohohohohohhoohoohohohohooohoohhohohhhohohhhhh

Of course it's a pirates life

so two things motivated me going evil mode: for one thing, I like pirates already. Second thing is feeling out the game's morality system. Are we getting Skyrim-style slaps on the wrist or can I be, if you will, the king of the pirates? I had been talking in some Discord, doesn't matter which one, about morality choices in video games, and decided, since I was agnostic to Starfield, I would stress test the system by being the worst guy possible. And the Crimson Fleet, the game's premiere bandit faction, promised to get me there.

The way you initiate this quest is kind of funny and also immediately disappointing. I can accept having to join up in some way other than asking the first pirate who doesn't immediately open fire, but... okay so like--

The first time I was arrested in Starfield (it can be for literally anything) instead of being taken to jail I was instead taken to the UC Vigilance, a giant space cop flagship, and interred under Commander Ikande. He made me a deal: rather than serve my sentence, I can instead become a dirty filthy stinky RAT. He wanted me to join up with the Crimson Fleet and find out whatever they're up to because they were apparently real excited about something. You can refuse him, and I guess proceed to jail, but I wanted to be a pirate anyway and accepted, planning on cutting Ikande off the moment I could***************

What sort of crime did I pull? Failed a pickpocket check. Intentionally. Because by then I had already killed like three people unnoticed, one of which out in broad daylight trying to get caught but New Atlantis clearly doesn't do "see something say something." By then I just wanted to see what jail looks like, man. Now I did pick the "Gangster" trait at the character creation, a background picked up by Ikande in dialogue. So that was cool. Idk what he brings up for players who didn't pick that. "Based on your failed attempt to steal a lollipop, I think you're just who we need to infiltrate the Turbo Murder Gang."

Turbo Murder Gang

The Crimson Fleet initiation was deceptively simple. I first meet up with first mate Naeva Mora. She sends me off to kill a Crimson Fleet deserter named Austin Rake. Zooming off to his location, I discover Rake had shacked up with a civilian ship. Boarding, I ask for Rake, they say they don't have him, I say I'm going to shoot everybody (evil character), they say "oh nevermind he's right here," he shoots everyone, and then I shoot him. Yo ho.

After that, Naeva decided I was one cold sonofabitch and invited me to The Key, Crimson's Fleet main hideout. Here I met their leader, Delgado, and realized terribly quickly that things were gonna be a lot less violent than I was anticipating.

Before setting you loose, and constantly as you report back to his bitch ass, Ikande urged me to avoid killing anyone. Seeing as he was a space cop, I ignored this. I'm about to join a gang of space pirates whose canned NPC text is twenty four variations of "hmm I think I'll have murder for dinner." Odds are slim we avoid violence.

Delgado's grand plan is finding the Space One Piece. Legend has it an old banking ship crashed out in wildspace some years ago, and the credits (bc we're in space) inside would set us up for life. It's very pirate-y to be hunting for treasure, okay, I get it. But space pirates? We'd be robbing a bank with extra steps. We're really building to a bunch of credits? This is not a game where money is hard to come by; half the NPCs are walking about with 1000 bucks minimum, and baby I'm running a pickpocket build.

ugh, fine, okay, treasure hunt. But I better get to plunder a few ships along the way.

Ice Planet with a bunch of bug enemies

(I didn't take any screenshots and couldn't find any online, so here's a picture of Greenland)

Our first mission was to go to the ice planet The Key orbits in order to find some leads on the ultimate treasure. This ice planet prison does lead to some lore on the Fleet, but man I was pitching a fit the whole time. I wanna plunderrrrrrrrrruh. Suffice to say my first impression of space pirate questing was not too exciting. All the enemies here are native bugs you gotta aim at the floor to shoot. Felt very wimpy, even when the big one showed up for a boss fight later.

But that's ignoring this quest's diamond in the rough, a man named Mathis:

He's also a Crimson Fleet initiate, just like me. When we landed on ice planet the game started feeding me all these dialogue options to antagonize Mathis. Unprompted, mind you. It's always trying to underhand me some bad guy options, and this time they were all "fuck Mathis" flavored. I thought it was funny, so I picked them every time. This got Mathis quite heated with me, and to put the candle on this filler episode birthday cake, Mathis and I found ourselves on the other side of a cave in, separated from the rest of the pirates. Here's when he dropped all the antagonism and immediately dealt me into his plan: kill Delgado. Why he wanted to do this, I still don't know. Why he would invite me in on the plan, even though we hate each other, I wish I knew. But I wasn't exactly loyal to Delgado, by any means. That, and when Mathis brought this up I started to turn around on the guy. Thought "wow, Mathis doesn't fuck around. Maybe he's alright."

From then on, Mathis and I were pals. We killed bugs, found sick gamer loot, and he was over the moon when I told (lied to) Delgado he was one hell of a pirate. Not that killing bugs in a space prison would prove this, anyway. But Delgado was happy with our work, and from then on we were Crimson Fleet bona fides (the way I'm pronouncing that is a secret, oohohohohoho). Soon after this, Mathis pulled me aside and suggested we drop that "killing Delgado" business. It was never brought up again. Still dunno if I would've gone through with it or not. Probably would've.

Siren of the Snores

(not my screenshot)

I haven't been super clear on what this ultimate treasure is, and I have to be now for any part of this next mission to make sense.

Kryx' Legacy is the name. All I knew at the start was it's a bunch of credits. Come to find out, Kryx is the founder of the Crimson Fleet and Legacy is the name of a GalBank ship lost in an unknown nebula. I said this earlier but I wanna be super clear right now. A high ranking GalBank executive, with the credentials needed to get inside the bank's archives (housing the final known location of the Legacy) is currently lounging on a big space yacht. This is the Siren of the Stars and my goodness is it a snoozer of a quest. And it shouldn't be! It's perfectly in line with my character build! Even so! Even sooo!!!

It's a whole process just getting to this executive guy. Gotta talk to all the patrons until one of them decides to tell you something useful. Then you talk to his mistress, then you talk to some third guy, then you talk to... whatever his name was. It's talking in circles with one--maybe two--persuasion checks. On one save, I went postal. Killed everyone on the stupid ship and got the info I needed. Only to discover my Crimson Fleet contact inside the ship, guy by the name of Rokov, got scared(?) and locked himself inside a room I couldn't open??? Sorry, Rokov the space pirate, is this not your speed?

Ugh. Loaded a save and did the quest orthodox. After one lap of this damn boat I was sick to death of it. Seven laps later I was thinking of quitting the Fleet. They talk a big game. You're in for life or you're dead, sucker. Or else what, Naeva? You're gonna send three ships at a time every six hours? Execute this (picture me flippin her the bird. Hell yea).

Quick thing about Naeva Mora: she gave me an optional goal in this quest. Steal an expensive award set with precious space diamonds. Only one woman on board had access to the award. But I, the silver tongued devil of the stars, was able to persuade her into giving me the key to the vault. You ask, how. How did you, a space pirate dressed in rags, convince a stuffy lady on an expensive pleasure cruise to just give me her multimillion dollar trinket? I don't know. This is the most absurd persuasion check in the game, so far.

From there I jetted over to New Atlantis and snuck my way inside the GalBank archives. There was less money to steal than you would think but I suppose this isn't the vault. Killed some mercs, got the location.

How are we doing on heist missions over here?

So we've got the location of the Legacy, but no way to get close. See, it's in a hazardous nebula that'd fry any normal ship that dares approach. The cynical man would assume the game's solution was some novelty ship part that protects from the nebula and has zero function outside of this questline. And sometimes cynics are correct.

We need the ComSpike, dammit! What's a ComSpike? I forget. Protects ships from bad nebula juju. I'm not knocking the story for details that I forget, to be clear. Nor was I happy that the pirates were sending me off on another secret heist. In fairness, I didn't have to do these missions the way the game suggested. I could go postal on every facility I'm told to infiltrate (more on that later). But because I was so oddly punished for doing so on the last quest, that led me to assume some approaches were preordained. The Crimson Fleet has connections to uphold (WHY).

Whatever. I go to New Atlantis and talk to Huan Daiyu, pictured above. She's a smuggler, owns a pretty cool ship called the Jade Swan (am I a bad person for predicting her ship would be called the Jade Something?). I'm gonna bum a ride to her next dropoff, dropping off myself and sneaking aboard a research station that just so happens to be working on that ComSpike technology. In the opening steps of this quest, I encountered the first real Bethesda Moment of this game.

Picture this: I'm on the intercom with Huan. She tells me I need to find a keycard to get to the next level of this station. In her dialogue, explicitly, she suggests picking someone's pocket. Well, you read my mind, Huan. Just so happens I've been dumping skill points into pickpocketing...

Imagine my deflation when I had checked every pocket in that damn storage room, only to find the keycard was on a table and only accessible by talking to multiple guards in a specific sequence. Let's be really nice and say not all of Huan's suggestions are going to work. Dynamic world, indeed! I'm gonna throw myself out the airlock!

Throughout the infiltration I was only answering Huan's calls to be nice. Couldn't trust one bit of advice from her after that. She's not a reliable source. So I throw on a security uniform, talk my way into the engineering bay, find the ship fitted with the ComSpike, and perform a high-precision shipjacking outta there. Not an ounce of booty plundered, not a doubloon to be seen. What a life, the pirate's life.

We have Night City at home

It only occurred to me in this mission. Something that should've occurred to me about three heist missions ago.

The NPCs in this game are so fucking mean, all the time.

It's not even prompted. Mathis, I get. I was busting his chops something fierce. But everyone else is just off rip "wassup dickshit, I'm Suzy Cosmonaut, and you're dirt on my boot. Hows about you go find a USB stick but hey don't forget to kiss my ass on your way out."

What am I supposed to do? I say something rude back. What, I'm supposed to take that? My dream was to fill my ship with my best buddies in the galaxy but I think I mostly hate all of these people.

Ugh. I fly off to Neon. Great city name, guys. This must be the criminal underbelly. Where do you think they shack up? The part of Neon literally called the Underbelly? And what do you suppose this crime syndicate is called?

Neon is a city built out of placeholder names. Indistinguishable from any cyberpunk town in all of fiction. Uninspiring place. One of my character traits is being from here, which is more embarrassing than the city I'm actually from irl. But fuck it, whatever, let's ride.

Estelle Vincent is my contact in Neon. She knows where I can find the schematics for the conduction grid the Fleet will need to access nebula space. But she won't give that info for free! Nothing comes cheap in Neon, baby!

I was in full Fuck It mode by this point of the questline. My promise for this quest was to kill everybody I could get away with killing (more, on, that, later). So when Estelle wants me to go talk to Generdyne executive Ayumi Komiko about gaining access to their computers, well... sorry Ayumi. Victim of circumstance.

After Ayumi was super dead, I stomped over to Generdyne with her access card and opened fire. Terrible scene, no survivors, yo-ho-ing all the way. One must imagine justice served somewhere in this--no doubt cancelled out by the rest of the carnage. But whatever. This is the piratiest I've felt so far. I shoot my way to the top floor, where the brother of the CEO just gives up the computer. Turns out he hates his stupid CEO brother and I should probably kill him too. Noted.

When I go to meet back with Estelle, that Generdyne CEO is sitting in her place. He offers me a deal to sell out Estelle, which I refuse. Estelle was my test subject, to see if I could make someone less mean to me by sticking my neck out. I lied and said it was all me, he didn't believe me, I put a shotgun to his temple and realized he's an essential NPC and cannot be killed. Party's over.

After this, would you believe it, Estelle did like me! I only had to sell myself out in her place and pay her like 9000 credits for like no reason. But I turned someone around. Now it was time to finally get me treasure.

The One Piece Is Real

I'm gonna bring this up now before I forget. Periodically, after every heist or so, I was instructed (by the quest markers, not anyone else) to report back to the UC Vigilance and Commander Ikande. Because this is also Point Break and I'm technically a government agent. Despite me showing no loyalty, lying to his face every chance I had, insulting him and his crew, and straight up shooting his flagship twice, I was Ikande's spy on the inside and expected to give report. The whole questline I was looking for outs. Some reason to cut these dorks off and go full pirate. To my knowledge, there's scarce ways of doing this. Won't say there isn't one, just nothing immediately obvious.

Until now.

I'm called to the bridge and Ikande's super pissed about my Neon killing spree. Just steaming mad. So mad he's ready to terminate this deal and send me to jail. I give his crew the rope-a-dope and run back to my ship, just barely shootin out of there. Exciting! Felt appropriately climax-ey, and it's genuinely cool that was a moment I could orchestrate with my own choices.

No time to lose. I'm off to Kryx' Legacy while the rest of the Fleet at the Key gets ready for the UC Vigilance to come knocking. Should've guessed I'd also be getting the ultimate treasure alone. This was so far the most impressive setpiece of the game. The thundering of the space lightning outside while I navigated the dead stranded spaceship was sufficiently immersive. I was immersed, for the first time in this game, and I was savoring this moment. The flashlight was on, people.

It's sci fi, so all this treasure is loaded onto an external hard drive. Look, I didn't need a big wooden chest with gold doubloons spilling out but I shouldn't be able to fit a bajillion dollars in my backpack. As soon as I have the treasure, the ship is critically damaged and I gotta skedaddle. I'm always down for a "flee the facility" type mission and this one delivers. Hop back in my ship, make just enough distance to avoid the magnificent explosion of the Legacy, and now all that's left is to get the gold home. Easily the best quest in the Crimson Fleet, no contest.

And now, the worst quest in the Crimson Fleet

angry emoji angry emoji devil horn emoji angry emoji

Right when I get back to the Key, Delgado tells me the UC Vigilance is knocking at out doors. It's now or never, them or us. Turns out, had I not burned that bridge earlier, I would've had the choice of fighting for either the space pirates or the space cops. My decision had been made hours ago, and that aforementioned bridge was aforementionably burnt. We're fighting for the pirates, gah dammit.

Oh my god

Who playtested this. Still riding in the starter ship, I was now tasked with fighting off like a half dozen ships double my level and working off WWII flying ace AI. I died, and I counted, nine times. Half of which in the first two minutes. oooooh, gamer rage. By attempt ten, and sorry for breaking my own immersion, by I jumped outta that part of space, over to a shipwright, and got my weapons upgraded along with a new shield. I could barely squeeze out a win with this boost. No I did not lower the difficulty because I shouldn't have to, dammit, and yes this put and impenetrable stank on the final leg of this questline.

One silver lining to all this: I'm a reincorporation loving person, and was delighted to see all those pirates I had worked with across the questline suddenly swooping in for the final stand. Cinematic stuff, I loved it. Mathis was there, Rokov was there (who?), Huan was there, Estelle was there. Even Adler Kemp was there. I didn't even mention him, he seemed so inconsequential. But he showed up! Love that sort of thing.

We in tandem blow away the auxiliary space cops (not for lack of gamer rage) and board the Vigilance to kill Ikande. High energy firefight, this. I'm constantly impressed by the number of players in any one fight, in this game. Back in the Skyrim xbox 360 days, I remember doing the civil war questline and going "wow, there's like twenty NPCs in this thing." In Starfield, that number's the standard. Truly next gen, amiright guys.

Me and my friends blow our way through the Vigilance, I spend like ten minutes looking for a healing item of some sort, free some prisoners, and eventually we're at the bridge. The game even leaves in some briefs moments where I can chat with all the friends[citation needed] I made along the way. Me and Huan high five. There wasn't an animation for this or anything, but I imagine we did a jumping high five. Excuse me for roleplaying. Me and Mathis bump hips.

At the bridge, and really I should've seen this coming, there's a dialogue with Commander Ikande. The honorable man he is, Ikande calls for his crew to abandon ship and plans to self-destruct the Vigilance with all of us on it. There's precious little time to talk him out of this, and scarce options for doing so. But I'm a gangster, and have exclusive ganger dialogue options. So I have the option of telling Ikande "hey, cancel the self destruct or we're gonna torture your crew," thinking this would open up more dialogue.

But he chickens out right here. Goes "okay, fine, I'll cancel it just don't hurt my crew." And like, dude. We've been hurting your crew. They're all dead, actually. This is the most empty threat possible in this situation and this disciplined space cop chief buckles at my first threat. What a guy. We take him prisoner and the Vigilance is ours. Supreme Victory.

I deeeeed it

Here comes my favorite part of any Bethesda questline epilogue. When all the celebration dialogue is exhausted and all the NPCs just start to aimlessly wander away, throwing out a few more canned "wahoo we did it" lines. It's a joy, I'm so glad Starfield still does this.

Delgado gets me my cut of the Legacy: 200k credits. This feels like a lot of money for this point in the game. I have seen ships that cost twice this, but it's a decent reward all the same. That, and I had picked up plenty of paychecks along the way, so my ultimate takeaway is bigger.

Best of all, Naeva doesn't think I'm lower than dirt anymore. She gives me a cool Crimson Fleet jacket and a room on the Key. I promptly placed one chair down in the dead center of the room. Home. Naeva's a classic NPC who talks a herculean game and does jack shit the whole questline. I warmed up to her.

With my new credits, I bought a Crimson Fleet Phantom ship, and hired my first crew member. Finding him piss drunk in the Key's bar, I threw my arm around the shoulder of good ol' Mathis and offered him a place on my ship. He agreed, now my best buddy and no longer wishing to kill Delgado. I also tried to get Huan on my crew, but I guess she's got her own thing going on. I wished her well, Mathis and I cleared out bounties, and we took off for our next adventure.

Crimson Fleet: In Conclusion

Pretty mixed on this. While there's a pretty strong ending despite the awful awful HORRIBLE ship battle, everything leading up to this felt distinctly un-pirate. As if the game wasn't comfortable with me going morally undercarriage. Odd stance to take, with the space pirate questline, but this is the studio that watered down the Dark Brotherhood (I said it). While the gameplay loop is showing me some promise, I was always feeling like I had to fight the game to play it my way. Maybe I take this as a lesson: I gotta commit to the type of character I wanna be. The game will attempt to lure me away, but I gots to be evil.

My next questline is the Freestar Rangers, and only because that's the first major one I was introduced to apart from the main quest. See ya there, I say shooting away in my new spaceship which you're gonna have to imagine.

[rescuehumans-runtotherescue]

What My Personal Reverse AU Would Look Like:

-

Human Chase

Name: Chase

Race: Korean

Appearance: He is pale, has blue eyes and short black neatly combed hair.

Sexuality: Bi

Age: 22

He has OCD and autism. He is lactose intolerant. Due to his hyperfixation on law, he moved up classes quickly. He is not the chief of police, because of his age and inexperience, but just below that in rank. In this AU, the actual Chief of Police isn’t very helpful, mainly just doing paperwork and attending meetings.

How he reacts to people flirting with him: Painfully oblivious.

What he drinks in the morning: Coffee that is half coffee, half dairy-free coffee creamer.

-

Human Blades

Name: Blaise

Race: White

Appearance: He has fluffy ginger hair (longer than all the others but still a short hairstyle) and hazel eyes.

Sexuality: Omnisexual

Age: 22 (younger than Chase by a couple months)

He is autistic and has generalized anxiety. He willingly wanted to become a pilot. He’s fine as long as he’s familiarized with the aircraft and in complete control of it. When he flew in Dagger (Dani) the first time, she just >ZOOM< Took off! His screams could be heard from a mile away and it took A LOT of encouraging and bribery to get him to fly her the second time.

How he reacts to people flirting with him: Panics and makes an excuse to leave. It’s not that he wouldn’t want to have a romantic relationship, he just doesn’t know how to handle one right now.

What he drinks in the morning: Orange juice.

-

Human Boulder

Name: Bou

Race: Hispanic

Appearance: He has tan skin and short brown hair and beard. He has dark brown eyes.

Sexuality: Pan + Ace spectrum

Age: 24

He has ADHD. He is a hopeless romantic. He has a small greenhouse behind the fire station, which used to just be a garden until the bots (the Burns) kept accidentally falling on it/stepping in it, so he made the greenhouse for the high visibility and to protect his plants.

How he reacts to people flirting with him: While a hopeless romantic who dreams of gushy dates, when faced with someone actually taking an interest in him, it’s like he forgets how to speak english. Poor guy gets so tongue-tied!

What he drinks in the morning: Tea.

-

Human Heatwave

Name: Heath

Race: Black

Appearance: he has dark brown eyes and short crew cut dark brown hair.

Sexuality: Demiromantic + Bi

Age: 26

He is dyslexic but hides this from others if he can. He is the leader of their team.

How he reacts to people flirting with him: Depending on who it is and how they’re flirting, he’ll either ignore them or flirt right back with them. However, he is noncommittal and when they start persuading an actual romantic relationship, he stops altogether.

What he drinks in the morning: Coffee, black.

-

Chase and Bou grew up on Griffin Rock, but on opposite ends of the island. Chase was also homeschooled, which made him miss out on social opportunities, so there was no chance of them meeting in school. Bou was in lad pioneers when he was younger, Chase was not.

Heath and Blaise grew up elsewhere (not in the same place as each other) and were assigned to Griffin Rock. Blaise attended Boy Scouts when he was younger where he grew up.

They all met each other in training.

-

The Burns’ as Bots:

Charlie —> Cinder. The leader of the Rescue Bots.

Kade —> Kascade. Cascade with a K! He will not let you forget that.

Dani —> Dagger.

Graham —> Gram.

Cody —> Code.

Cinder, Kascade, Dagger, and Gram make up the bot rescue team. Code is not officially part of it, but visits Griffin Rock frequently and has tagged along to some missions. He has abilities like Servo does in the show, being a living toolbox of sorts. He also has a vehicle form- A tow truck. Not his idea, but Optimus’, and you don’t argue with Optimus. His vehicle form is mainly for his cover up, as it would be seen as odd if all the other ‘robots’ had vehicle forms and he didn’t. However, his vehicle form has came in handy. Code is set to attend the academy when it’s ready.

Servo in this AU is an actual dog that they petsit occasionally, who is legally owned by Captain Tide.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

[ID: a series of nine gifs of the Kyoto Students in the Jujutsu Kaisen Volume Zero movie. the first gif is of Kamo Noritoshi jumping off a building and shooting some arrows infused with cursed energy. the second is of Miwa Kasumi creating her domain and then cutting them with her sword.

the third one is of Miwa sheathing her sword as two curses break through the wall to her right. a blast of fire comes from behind her and kills them. the fourth gif starts with a close-up of Mechamaru, his hand in front of half of his face. then the camera zooms out and three curses fly above his head.

the fifth gif is of Zen’in Mai holding her gun out as if she just shot it, then pulling it back by her head, moving her other hand to her hip and smiling. the sixth gif is a close-up of Nishimiya Momo. she’s in the air, the wind ruffling her hair and clothes. she has a hand to her left ear and is talking.

the seventh gif is of Todo Aoi. it begins with a back shot of him landing on the ground, as if he just jumped. then, it zooms in close to his face as he smiles widely and kind of menacingly. the eight gif is of Todo running. the ninth gif begins with a shot of Kamo, Miwa, and Mechamaru. Kamo has a hand to his right ear, turns to the other two and tells them something. Miwa and Mecharmu run off. then it’s a shot of the back of Mai’s head - she’s watching as Kamo runs after them. /End ID.]

[sortyourlifeoutmate]

Terminator and buggy

My never-ending efforts at trying to write 40k

-

With a roar of engine and crunching of gears the buggy zoomed over the rubble and came crashing down heavily in the more-or-less clear street the other side of what had until recently been some buildings. Safe. For now.

Though it was hard for Guzzdag to appreciate this, as the manoeuvre had very nearly seen him vaulted from his spot on the rear deck, and not for the first time. Only by clinging to the guns had he managed to stay on the vehicle at all, and even then it had been close. Now they weren’t bouncing around he was able to relax a little and demonstrate his unhappiness.

This he had by forcefully kicking Wazzsnik, the driver, in the back of the head.

“Wotch wot your doin’! You nearly got me out da zoggin’ buggy! Again!”

“Ah, stop whinin’ ya grot. Got us away, din’t I?”

Guzzdag couldn’t argue with this. Since the marine boys had shown up staying alive had got much harder much faster. The humies before then had been good for fighting, yes, and had certainly shot up a lot of the boys good and proper, but they’d also had the decency to die when shot at or chopped. The marines had no sense of fair play though, and were just killing everything. No fun at all.

Of course, Guzzdag wanted to argue with what his driver had said, and was thinking about how best to do this when he spotted something up ahead. Something big. He squinted.

“Oi! Wazza! Look ‘dere!” He shouted, pointing, and kicking the back of the driving seat instead, which was less liable to be taken as a direct insult.

“I see it!”

Emerging from some rubble a few hundred metres away and stomping into the street was what was obviously one of those mega-armoured marines. What one of them was doing here, on his own, was a mystery, and orks are notoriously uninterested in mysteries unless they look like the kind of mysteries you can steal and use as a weapon. This was just a target, and a good one at that - walking right into the middle of the road!

Guzzdag grinned and racked the lever that worked the slides on the half-dozen or so shootas (of varying sizes) that were strapped to the back of the buggy. He didn’t need to do this, obviously, but he wanted to do this, and it did make a very satisfying sound. He then opened fire.

“Dakka dakka dakka!” He roared, at a volume that was able to comfortably compete with the din of the guns. Enormous muzzle flare stabbed out and bullets whipped and snapped down the street, almost all of them hilariously wide of the target. The target, for his part, had stopped crossing and had turned to face the oncoming vehicle, shifting position to brace for impact. Neither driver nor gunner gave this much thought.

One or two bullets did actually land on target but, given the armour involved, this did nothing other than make sparks. Wazzsnik was highly amused.

“You’s rubbish!” He shouted backwards. Guzzdag growled and squeezed the triggers harder. Inexplicably, this made him more accurate, but all that did was make more sparks. Meanwhile, Wazzsnik was fiddling with valves. The distance was closing.

“Imma ram ‘im! Full speed! Whoosh!”

He hit a button, a big red one. The engine made an extremely loud, unhappy noise. The buggy lurched and hurtled forward even faster than it had already been going, and it had already been going so fast they’d lose one of the wheel-covers halfway back down the street when it had rattled clean off the chassis. Not that either of the orks had noticed.

What they did notice - a split-second before the collision - was the lightning playing around the big fist the marine had. It was a lot of lightning, and it trailed brightly behind the fist as the marine swung it up and brought it down…

…right on the front of the buggy.

The marine’s timing was absolutely perfect. The instant before the buggy would have made contact the fist punched straight down, crumpling through riveted armour plating, crunching the engine, and driving the whole front half of the vehicle into the road. The rear, carrying momentum, flipped, clipped the marine (who barely rocked) and carried on, now spinning end-over-end.

Guzzdag had a momentary impression this before everything went momentarily black. When that passed he was a lot further along the street than he remembered. The buggy was gone, too, though there were lots of bits of it around that he could see. Some of them were on fire. Wazzsnik was still holding the steering wheel at least, Guzzdag saw, though where the rest of him had ended up the gunner had no idea.

Trying to stand, Guzzdag found he couldn’t, and he quickly discovered this was because everything below his waist was missing. Casting his eye around he saw his legs lying on some rubble nearby. If he got them they could probably get put back on, he thought, so he started dragging himself towards them.

A giant, armoured foot then stomped down into view in front of him, casting the ork into shadow. Oh yes. The marine. In all the excitement of the crashing and the dismemberment Guzzdag had quite forgotten about the marine. He looked up.

He was looking into twin gun barrels.

“Zog,” he said.

It was all he had time to say.

[skelezomperman]

Random thoughts the second: On Hostility in the Fire Emblem Community, part 2

Yesterday, I published a post reflecting on an incident of harassment that took place in the Fire Emblem: Three Houses community on Tumblr. Today is the second half of that post, the part that is more relevant to most people. I will ramble more about why it’s important that everyone learn from things like that and how we can build a better community. (And perhaps it’s even more relevant today given an incident that took place on Twitter regarding Fire Emblem Heroes!) Please, read this post with an open mind. If I have changed even one person's outlook, I will consider it a success.

Let’s take a step back and zoom out to the broader ill that is impacting us: hostility. The vast majority of hostility is not high profile, extreme incidents like what happened to that fanartist a year ago. The vast majority of hostility are small things that are unfortunately normalized as everyday behavior. By this, I mean stuff like backhanded comments over a playstyle or mildly mean jokes about a favorite character. It’s not extreme, but it is what causes the most harm altogether. The low-impact behaviors do add up because they are far more frequent. They wear down other people and cause them to become less open to participating in the community. This is what leads to people getting bad impressions from interacting with our fanbase or with specific sectors of our fanbase. 

Perhaps the bigger issue with hostility is the impact on self. If you fall into this bad habit of being aggressive towards others, you will personally experience several bad effects. Firstly, you will be training yourself to assume bad faith in others – in other words, you turn into the metaphorical hammer that sees everything as a nail. You also isolate yourself from other people. Both of these things make you more likely to get comfortable with things that shouldn’t be happening in our community. Of course, being passive-aggressive one time is not a slippery slope that leads to committing grave harms against other people, but one must remember that all hostile behaviors form part of the same continuum. Most of all, you lose a sense of why you joined fandom in the first place. I highly doubt you joined the fandom to get into petty arguments with people. No, you joined the fandom because you felt an invitation in your heart to get out and talk about what you love, to create content about what you love. Getting into petty arguments, turning hostile against other people, being mean is only a distraction.

Everyone knows that this is a problem. I don’t have to point to extreme incidents like the one I reflected on yesterday to show that it’s a problem – you could probably ask any friend if they’ve experienced someone being mean, and they would say yes. It’s not exclusive to any subsectors either, not to debates about Three Houses nor to the elitists fighting the Awakening/Fates babies nor to playstyle debates as seen recently on Reddit. It’s a problem across the community. 

What is the answer to this? How can we stop hostility? The antidote is simple: it is love. Specifically, it is charity, the pure love which is the recognition of the humanity within oneself and others. Charity is the foundation of the bond that brings us all together in this community to talk about the video games and other media that we love. Nurturing the virtue of charity not only decreases the hostility that one gives towards others but also helps one resist hostility towards other people. Someone truly motivated by charity tries their best to be welcoming to all people. I mean it when I say all people: there are no exceptions to the category of people whom you should be charitable towards. It is quite radical to say this, but it’s the truth: the only way we will get better as a community is if we are willing to extend a charitable attitude towards everyone.

What about people who are saying dumb things? (I don’t mean things that one would disagree with, I mean truly bad ideas or opinions that a reasonable person would say is wrong.) Should we be hostile to them? No! Being hostile only makes them dig in deeper. If you want to be charitable, you can try to politely explain why what they are doing is wrong. We aren’t perfect and we’re not ready for that all the time, so if you don’t feel like explaining, just ignore and block. Being rude to the person will only make the situation worse.

How about people who are hostile themselves? Surely giving them a taste of their own medicine is warranted, right? Also no! You are only feeding into their perception that they are the victim. I understand that humans want to get revenge, but a tit for tat does not solve the problem. It only makes it worse. Hate and anger are not solved by more hate and more anger. Love is what washes away the flames of anger. One who is overtaken by the flames of love will have no room for anger within their heart. So if you meet someone who is being hostile, either ignore them or reach out and invite them to share in your love, share your compassion with them, let them know that you are willing to reach out to them and understand them. Who knows – a simple act of compassion could be enough to change someone’s life!

I understand that our nature means that we humans are not perfect. We are all susceptible to having off days where we are a bit mean. If that happens, do not be afraid to apologize for what you did. It doesn’t undo what happened, yes, but when you apologize, you make yourself vulnerable and invite others to share in your vulnerability. In fact, even if you did something really bad in your past, do not be afraid to apologize! Other people may not accept it, but your willingness to apologize is a necessary first step to changing and making yourself an agent of love rather than an agent of hate.

Many of you would say that it is idealistic to expect that a community can be free of hatred or anger or hostility. I agree – it is a fact that in a community of our size, there will always be some sour grapes. But that doesn’t mean that we have to accept it. Imagine how much better we would be if all the energy spent on hostility, on gossip, on petty arguments, on bigotry, and everything else negative was spent instead on building each other up. We can work to change this one step at a time, starting with ourselves. If we each change ourselves, we can change those around us. Little acts can make big differences!

In a separate post, I will publish a self-reflection, or examination of conscience if you will. It’s a way to take a step back and consider what you have or have not been doing with the community. I try to ask myself questions like this regularly because I think it is useful for evaluating what I have been doing and whether it has been good or bad. It won’t work for everyone, but I encourage you to take a look at it. 

I will conclude by returning to the metaphor of the invitation, the invitation to partake in this community. To this day, people still say YES to the invitation to partake in our community even as so much strife continues to take place. This is through the effort of people who are willing to be welcoming, who are willing to open up their heart and share their love with others. That invitation is still on the table for us. Every day, we must respond to the invitation to bond with others in our community with a resounding yes. Yes, I want to talk about the Fire Emblem series with other people! Yes, I want to form bonds with other people! Yes, I want to make as many other people feel welcome! Yes, I want to give love and charity to other people just as others have given it to me. Let us help ourselves and others to accept that invitation, every day, from now on. It will not undo what happened in the past, nor will it make everything perfect in the future, but if we try, we will succeed.

[alicornairport]

Second character playlist!

Come get y'all's Marcy Music.

Marcy

Adam Neely × Ben Levin - ELLEN / OPRAH

We start with weirdly vibing pathos (this is recurring in most of my character playlists lol).

I feel like this song is perfect for that feeling of half-dissociated floating through life feeling and perpetual social outsider status that seems to have been all Marcy all the time pre-Amphibia.

Escaping to as many brightly-colored worlds as she can, watching everything as if through a screen:

I zoom further lost in glowing geometry Ellen in the nightmare, Oprah on the screen Watching people live takes the life out of me Waiting for the light at the edges of my dream to die like an old whale lying on a beach

Can you tell this playlist started around True Colors?

Janelle Monaé - Dance Or Die / Faster

I always feel weird about putting songs in a character playlist when they're from a musical or concept album cause. y'know. they've already got characters and a story attached.

None of that matters cause this 2-part song is more Marcy than ArchAndroid to me (sorry Janelle).

First we have this in the intro:

Oh these dreams are forever If you leave, now or never

and I just can't help but think of Marcy alone, in a library, reading about this last resort that'll let her cling to her dreams and live them out, let her leave, but not the way she was supposed to.

And then:

Telling lies and telling lies will put your face on fire Run and tell your friends to never dream, never win

and

Rising and a waking, yes sir here comes the sun March into the war and with the kick of the drum

Breathe, live, help, give Focus, trance, wake up, dance!

You see the daylight comes into the kingdom But the kingdom's full of ignorant men Just keep rebelling away, you gotta dream it away

it covers everything, from Marcy's time as a ranger to her regret to the lies she tells herself intentionally, to Darcy and IDK it just gets to me. Especially with the frantic pace. I can feel the restlessness of an entire society resting on your shoulders and your own mistakes breathing down your neck but you can't stop and if you don't stop it's all fun.

How Marcy thinks the Newtopians see her, and how she sees herself in this reality where Amphibia is fantasy wish fulfillment: the main character - the Chosen One:

A long long way to find the one We'll keep on dancing till she comes These dreams are forever Oh these dreams are forever (Forever, forever, forever, forever) And if you wanna wake the sun Just keep on marching to the drums These dreams are forever Oh these dreams are forever

And finally, even tho it's in the middle of the song, how I think she might see Andrias at the very end:

I'm praying for the man sitting without much time May he understand the clock will never rewind [...] Hate no more, said he must hate no more

half•alive - arrow

Life begins to happen when I plan something else Trying to be somebody, but all I got was someone else

a lot of someones, actually. i'm so sorry

But more seriously, I feel like this applies to Marcy even without The Core. Life keeps happening at her, both on Earth and in Amphibia, and no matter how much she plans, there's no guarantee the other people involved want the same things as her, and when she tries to escape, she does it by becoming someone else, whether it's through games or just straight up transforming herself into who she thought Andrias expected and/or Newtopia needed.

The hardest place to be Is right where you are In the space between The finish and the start It's the arrow in your heart

The arrow was meant to be meataphorical but now I can only think about the terrible imagery pun with. y'know.

anyway

IVY SOLE. - Storm

This was the first song I put on here after Olivia and Yunan, and it shows. But it's also just. All of it. It's very Marcy-on-the-chair 5 minutes after the episode ends:

I got swept up in the ocean Undercurrent held my feet Ain’t no air for me to breath down here Only salt and the fear from the deep And now I've only got two options Grow some gills or fight the waves I don’t want no one to save me from myself I know that it’s my storm to tame

also guilt. Lots of guilt.

Til the surface comes in reach Til the dark don’t feel too much like home Til the sand run through my fingers Til my heart and mind feel like my own Til the sky don’t seem so far, far away

Hozier - In A Week

It's there. I can't really explain why with canon examples. I just HC that Marcy dealt with her guilt (especially over Anne's parents worrying that they were dead) by basically thinking exactly what this song says, first drenched in sadness ("we'll never be found and it'll hurt them so much") and then with the same sweetness and longing as the actual song, turning it into something positive: "we'll never be found. We can reinvent ourselves and turn this into home, with each other."

Billie Eilish - everything i wanted

Listen when I saw this in the storyboarders' playlist for Marcy I s c r e a m e d. But. It's so perfect. Every single line. Go listen to it.

Lenty Av - Marcy's Truth

[heart-rending instrumental remix of Marcy's Theme]

Death Note The Musical - Mortals & Fools

This is here entirely because @/cutetanuki-chan made an annearcy comic set to this where Darcy tries to convince Anne that Marcy is now beyond both love and salvation and I can't hear this anymore without imagining it as an internal conversation between Marcy and The Core.

Oh Geeez - Awakening

This is one of the best Amphibia fan songs I've heard and all of the lyrics are both amazing and depressing, but this is what made me immediately download the song (and put it in this playlist) after I first heard it:

Lately my head’s on fire and my voice is not my own...

So if this is the last time that I’m in my mind I need you to know That I only wanted to keep you close These days have been so dark and quiet and cold And I’m longing for somebody to hold The walls are closing in, and I’ve been run clean through So if this is the last time, then until the next life I’ll dream of you

vylet pony - object permanence (home videos and other snapshots related and otherwise)

everything I know just keeps slipping from my object permanence when I try to imagine home

Ray Chen ft. Sting - What Could've Been

I love Arcane so much my brain splits in two in order to contain the fact that this song is both about Jinx blaming Vi for leaving her and Marcy resenting Andrias.

lollaby - seams

Go listen to lollaby now. This is a fan song so it's literally made to fit Marcy exactly but I genuinely think it's right beside scars (also by lollaby :p ) as the best Amphibia fan song ever. I'm not even exaggerating; I'm underselling how great this song is. Especially these lines:

three stars burning bright come from beyond to expel the night three stars fall apart forever scarred they were doomed from the start and it's all my fault now i stand alone you two look happy on your own i am you and you are me our fates determined by that goddamn prophecy so let us make a toast to the parasite's host to the minds pulling the strings and to the glory of the ruined king

and:

maybe it's better to be left behind maybe it's time i said goodbye to these childhood friends of mine

(yes i know i just posted like 80% of the lyrics, but the way this incorporates lines from the show as parallels is just aaaaaaaaaaa)

lost memory machine - 地下涛声

Marcy on the castle balcony, as this fantasy of a reality washes over her.

The sound of underground waves She closed her eyes tightly the Gold Coast in the distance lonely city walls cutting through the forest It all comes from what she's read Deep blue early morning sky lifts the curtain off the day

Marcy, as she floats in a tank away from all light.

It can't compare To what she had But it's all lost now Keep getting more To lose it all

*this is all (maybe badly) translated from Cantonese by me.

Phoebe Bridgers - Chinese Satellite

This is in Anne's playlist too, but it fits Marcy better. I see it as her coming to terms with moving away, after everything, even if some part of her would rather stay.

lollaby - scars

The "canon" playlist ends at Chinese Satellite, but this is just... too amazing to leave off. The alternate ending that this paints (heavily leaning on when we thought they would all get much worse scarring) is incredibly sad but terribly hopeful. It breaks my heart just to put it back together.

Please listen to lollaby :p

[heliosthegriffin]

Class of One 15

AN: Sorry it took a second, I couldn’t get the chapter right, and this the fourth version, and finally feels good enough.

Jaune stood on a large piece of the ferry's broken deck, the piece swaying wildly in the water enough to almost trigger his motion sickness.

Broken remains of the rest of the ferry floated along side his raft, while the main body swayed sunk slowly, while chunks of the boat burned and fell off into the ocean. 

Jaune frowned, staring at the burning wreckage. “I’m not getting back my deposit, am I?” He then sighed, and wondered, what had gone wrong today?

It was a free day, no training and no business, and he had noticed that Patch was holding a Pumpkin Pete festival called Pumpkin Pete in Patch. Excited, Jaune had almost gone on the normal ferry to Patch, till Ezekiel told him about this new Atlas run service, something about AI piloted boats and how they could keep him from being motion sick.

Then the boat exploded, and now he was here in the ocean, likely to miss Pumpkin Pete in Patch, which doubly sucks because it was going to include the original voice of Pumpkin Pete, Bel Lance, who was normally so busy with a thousand and one projects he rarely showed his face, and considering he was nearing eighty, this was probably going to be one of his last showings.

Maybe, he should take this as a sign from the gods that he should buy a jetski?

Staring at the wreckage, Jaune thought hard for a moment, what could have caused this? Did they hit an Anti-Grimm mine? A cache of dust? Somesort of Grimm? His eyes sorting over the wreckage, he felt a flash of danger, his eyes catching a gleam of light off what was definitely a scope!

His left arm zoomed to his hip, grabbing Crocea Mors and expanding the shield over his body, dropping himself into a crouch, hiding behind the ancient metal. Not a moment too soon, either. As trio of thumps hit the metal, a series of loud psst sounded out. 

“A silencer?” Jaune mumbled, remembering what he could from his time fighting snipers at Beacon. 

But, his thoughts were interrupted as more shots hit the shield, the vibration make his hand a little sore, but nothing his aura wouldn’t solve.

Then, silence. 

No more shots for the moment, likely realizing they weren’t going to get past his shield that easily.

He dared peek out behind his shield to see where his the sniper was, but didn’t get a chance, his senses of danger ringing like a alarm, and he pulled his head back in the best imitation of turtle he could manage.

None too soon, either, as shots wizzed past where his head was a moment ago.

They were good at this, whoever they were… Which means they are trying to kill him.

He smirked. ‘No duh, genius.’

More accurately put, they had planned to kill him, but why?

His thought was interrupted, as he managed to hear a clink of metal, followed by a heavy thump of something hitting the deck.

Followed by a wave of force and heat hitting him, Jaune grunted in pain as his aura flared, dozens, if not hundreds of pieces of metal hit his shield, the shockwaves shaking his hand behind the shield.

They had grenades.

And, they had thrown a grenade at him.

Jaune frowned in annoyance.

Grenades, sniper rifles, and bombs. Who are these guys? Hunters? Paramilitary? Terrorists? 

Whoever they were, they were well supplied, which meant they were likely well funded. So, that either meant he pissed off someone with power and money, or he got on the bad side of several people with money.

Which, to be fair, could be a lot of people, but the first people that came to mind were either the Former Vale Council, or they’re families, which was rapidly becoming a likely chance, as they’re members had tried to off him before.

Crack.

Jaune’s thought process was stopped, he dared look down, the floating deck was cracking in half.

Thump.

This apparently did not go unnoticed by his assassin either, as another grenade landed on his debri.

His world exploded into light, fire and sound again, as he found himself blasted into the water, as the piece of deck finally was destroyed.

Sinking down, Jaune calmed himself, making sure not to accidentally breathe in any water, then starting treading water while he thought up a plan.

He took quick stock of himself, he was uninjured so far, his aura relatively high and regenerating what he lost, thankfully, having yet to take any direct hits, even when the ferrie initially blew up, aside from shrapnel from the wood and metal striking him. He also, still had his sword and shield, which switched back into a sheath, he didn’t need that slowing him down at the moment.

Jaune frowned, though. As he felt something was missing though, he gave a quick pat down. He didn’t have his wallet, then facepalmed, he had paid in advance online for the ferry. Even if he had made it to Patch, he wouldn’t have been able to get in.

Then a bullet swam past him, Jaune started swimming deeper towards the boat as he quickly remembered he didn’t have time to think much. 

Deciding he needed all the advantages he could get, he switched on his Aura Sight, flowing aura into his eyes to see where and how many attackers were on the boat.

Two auras.

One a ghostly white that immediately caught Jaune’s attention, as it seemed to be missing a chunk inside, the aura flowing around the area instead of refilling it. It didn’t create a vulnerability, but it was definitely unnatural, at least as far as Jaune was aware.

The other he only got a brief glimpse of, a sinister shadowy black, that disappeared as soon as Jaune could see it. Did he know that he was looking at him? Whatever the case, he seemed to be bad news, and the stronger of the pair.

Jaune felt a disturbance in the water under him, why did it feel like the water was rising? He looked down, as he felt his aura warn him, a great black shadow rising from the bottom, two bright red eyes staring at him.

Jaune’s mouth fell agape, bubbles escaping. ‘Oh fu-’

-----

Marcus rose from his hiding spot, his heart racing, and he was unsure why. 

One second he was trying to land a bead on his target, and suddenly he felt like a demon was staring at him from the abyss itself!

He did what came natural as an assassin when found out, run and hide! That fool bastard of his, had even felt it, but something dangerous was out there.

Marcus tried to get a sense of the aura’s around him, but only felt his bastards, and… a massive Grimm, half of which was coming up from under the ship. 

The assassin hunkered down, just as a shadow appeared from under the water, growing larger and wider as it rose to the surface, before jutting out of the ocean like the body of water had decided to grow fangs!

Tearing the already broken boat into piece, sending Marcus tumbling down the broken vessel, and giving him a perfect view of the Grimm

He couldn’t see the head, as it flew out of his sight, but it’s body was too long to miss as it sent sprays of water as the beast climbed to the heavens. It’s body long and sinewy, it’s scales the pitch black expected of Grimm, but with traces of red on the edges of the scales giving the image of fire climbing out of the sea, while it’s back evoked images of a rocky island as it was full of plates of white bone capable of shrugging off artillery, with its tail finally emerging as the football field long body finally dropped back down out of the air to reveal serpentine head. An eye staring at him as it fell back into the water.

Marcus’s mouth went dry, it was a Jorumunganr?! What was one doing in Vale?! They were supposed to stay in the sea between Mantle and Mistral!

This was not something he was equipped to face, what was he going to do, maybe the boy could distract and he could get away-

Marcus had to close his eyes immediately, just as the serpents head touched the water, a light could be seen building inside of the great Grimm.

Then, an explosion of light and force knocked his world.

---

Jaune had to stop himself from screaming as he was consumed by the Grimm, he also had to stop himself from breathing, as it had probably swallowed tons of water, literally, along with him. 

Now, none of his classes had ever covered what to do after being swallowed by a Grimm like in one of Port’s stories, but he also technically didn’t really have classes more just quizzes and TA work, so he could be forgiven for being unprepared.

Though, if he survived this, he would be thinking up countermeasures.

But, strangely enough, in his oxygen rattled state, a thought came to mind, that this situation was a lot like some of Port’s stories…

Which was followed by arguably the strangest thought he had had in the last day.

What would Professor Port do?

“Use the Aura, Jaune!” The mustachioed Professor intoned.

“Proffesor Port?!” Jaune screeched, though, it came out more like ‘Bwpffer Bort?!’ in the water. “How are you here?” Which was also scrambled in the water.

The prof. Raised but a finger, “Hush, mah boy. This isn’t real.”

“It’s not?!”

“Listen closely, remember march fourteenth? The story I told that day?”

Jaune nodded. “The one where you rode a narwhal naked across the Mistral gulf and was consumed by a whale?”

“Yes, now what did I do to get out of there?”

“You cut your way out?”

“Yes, now I want you to use your aura like so, take out your blade.” The prof gestured to Crocea Mors.

Jaune brought out his blade.

“Run the aura along the length of the blade, focus your power densely until it coats the blade in pure light of the soul, and channel all of your strength into the blade, and then my boy let it go, don’t hold it back, let it fly!” Then prof, vanished.

Jaune nodded, saluting his imaginary prof?

He took a calculated risk, and breathed out, focusing only on his sword, as the world dimmed around him, until all he could see was the blackness, and the whiteness of his soul. A star shining in the dark space.

The edges grew dim as the oxygen grew lower, but he was the star, and in the star's hand was blade, he let a storm of soul surround the blade, coat it, and empower it.

But, he held it loosely, as it was only a medium to direct his storm of light.

He felt the storms will to be unleash, and in the water, Jaune held his blade as it glowed, then shone, as the metal changed from dull grey to a heated white to then a brilliant gold, the water starting to boil as the energy radiating off the weapon could no longer be limited to just the metal.

Then with both hands he swung down.

An Arc’s arc of light shooting out, leaving a trail of multi-colored light behind it, illuminating the Grimm’s red and black guts, before it was then separated in two.

---

Mercury watched in awe as he floated half on a piece of boat, as he saw the enormous Grimm’s head separate from the body, billowing smoky Grimm Darkness or whatever shooting out as the body started to disappear. 

A blinding sickle of light cutting its head from its body, shooting out from its dark guts, that then shot forward parting the sea for thousands of feet before it vanished leaving a trailing of multicolored light over water.

“Woah, awesome.” Mercury mumbled to himself, waterlogged and tired. Then he looked over there again. “Wait, wasn’t he over there too?... If so, lucky me.”

And, then the target dropped feet first on the raft and was looking at him.

“Oh, fu-” And then punched him in the face.

---

Jaune took one look at the guy in the water, before realizing he was one of the assassins, and punched him.

Grabbing him by the collar, he hoisted him out of the water. “Alright, who do you work for?”

“Ow,The gray-haired assassin shrugged weakly. “Don’t know, my bastard dad does the jobs.”

Jaune sighed. “Where’s he at?”

The teen assassin pointed over to the wreckage, and Jaune saw a man bobbing in and out of the water.

“So, you're going to kill me now?”

“Not particularly, unless you want me too?”

“Not particularly, just take me to jail or something.”

“Fine by me, I’m Jaune, Jaune Arc by the way.”

The assassin snorted out some water. “Mercury Black, that guy over there is Marcus Black.”

“Alright, then good to meet you… Well, not so good to meet you I guess, forget it.”

Jaune and Mercury then made they’re way to Marcus floated limply in the water, and Jaune prodded Marcus with his now sheathed sword.

“If I pull him up, he won’t steal my soul or something will he?”

“I dunno, he stole my semblance, somehow when I was asleep.”

Jaune frowned and looked unnerved. “Should I cut off his hands or something, then?”

Mercury smiled. “It could be the only way to be sure.”

“Wow, either your a psycho, he’s a shit dad-”

“It’s both, it's both things.”

Jaune funneled aura into his eyes, and stared at Marcus’ aura, and saw a piece of aura that looked like Mercury’s inside.

“Hmm,” Jaune thought, then put aura into his hand before jabbing into Marcus, much to Mercury’s surprise, and Marcus’ pain as the man groaned. “Well that didn’t work,”

“Did you just try to rip my da-, his aura out?!”

“No, no! Just your’s out of his!”

“Like that’s much better!”

“Look I’m just trying to be helpful here, and give you back the aura he stole from you.”

“You can see that?!”

“You told me he stole your aura, but also yes!”

Mercury looked confused. “Thanks, I guess, do whatever man.”

Jaune punched Marcus again, seeing the aura moved, and got an idea.

Then started pummeling the downed assassin’s stomach, causing the shadowy aura to ripple and shake, until a orb of white popped out and Jaune caught it.

Not that Mercury could see it.

Jaune then stared at it for a moment, then looked at mercury. “Hmm.”

Then punched it into Mercury’s stomach to refill the missing piece.

“AAAH! FUCK THAT HURTS!” A blast of wind left his body as he screamed, creating ripples in the water around them, and blowing them slightly away.

Jaune stared at Mercurys aura, “Hmm, fits like a key, another good deed done.”

“Fuck you, thank you!” Mercury screamed.

“Great!” Then Jaune stared down at Marcus. “Oh yeah, he’s still here.”

Mercury frowned. “Why are you like this?”

“I haven’t had steady air in like five minutes, dude. I’m a little off my rocker.” Jaune stared at Marcus. “Mine pulling him up? If he steals your soul again, I can just punch it back out.”

Mercury stared mouth agape at Jaune. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, alright then.” Mercury submitted in confusion and slight fear.

The young assassin grabbed his half-submerged father by shirt and hauled him onto the floating wood, noticing his father was much lighter than expected.

Then Jaune threw up, Mercury realizing what his father was lighter.

The man was missing half of his body, cleanly bisected at slightly beneath the waist and seemingly burnt, the wounds cauterized, by, if Mercury had to take an educated guess, was the light wave Jaune shot out.

“Is he dead?!” Jaune asked.

“I don’t know?!” Mercury groaned, his hand slapping down on his dad’s chest.

“Now, how will I know who hired you to kill me?!”

“I don’t know?! Wait, till the next assassin comes along?!”

“Great idea! Not!”

With great effort, Marcus spat out what seemed like gallons of water, coughing violently. “Will you two shit heels shut up.”

The two teen boys turned to the bisected assassin.

“So, who paid you to kill me, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I do mind, professional code or whatever, except they clearly overestimated my abilities, and now I weigh half as much as I did yesterday!”

“Yeah, I’d feel bad for you, but you’re a paid killer.”

“Then, why are you getting all chummy with my sperm-spawn?”

Jaune and Mercury turned to each other, the back to Marcus, then back to each other, then back to Marcus.

“I honestly didn’t notice, I mean I’m still going to turn him into Beacon. But, to be honest, I already punched him in the face, so we’re kinda even.” Jaune admitted.

“I just don't want to die, and he somehow gave me back my semblance.” Mercury shrugged.

Marcus coughed harshly, and spat up thick blackish-blood. “Fair enough, anyway, it was one of the last two councilmen, Jimmy Stream or something, that good enough for one of you two to kill me?”

“Well, if your asking-”

Jaune stopped Mercury, “Not yet, could I get you to speak into my scroll? Then he can kill you.” The blonde announced, holding his scroll out.

Marcus groaned in pain, “Fine.” And quickly confessed what he had too, to which Jaune recorded. “Now will- BLAM” Before Marcus could finish, Mercury had already fired a bullet from Talaria into now deceased father, taking his head off.

Jaune grimaced. “Wow, you were really read for that… Also, could you have not shot him in the head? I’m not sure they're able to identify him like this?”

“Whatever? So, do we just wait for someone to pick us?”

Jaune put his hand to chin, and thought back to Mercury’s semblance creating a gust of wind. “Actually,” He thought back to how Pumpkin Pete in Patch didn’t end till eight, and it was one or so right now. “Do you have any money, and have you ever been to a festival?”

“...Go on.”

-----

Goodwitch’s eye twitched, as she hauled her only first-year by the ear away, leaving the Mr. Black and what remained of the older Mr. Black to Ozpin to deal with, along with the details about the Councilmen.

“And you really thought, it would be a good idea to instead of immediately contacting Beacon, that you should instead go to Patch and dally with an assassin, instead of calling us?!”

“But, I got Bel Lance to sign my hoodie, it's a double collectors item now!” Jaune proudly held up his signed hoodie. “And Mercury’s a cool guy once you get to know him!”

“You nearly died, again! And you need to be in Mistral next month for the Vytal festival, and your immediate response is to go have fun with your would be killer, why are you like this?!”

“I nearly die every other week, I can’t let the fear of death stop me from living.”

Glynda sighed. “Fine,” She smiled at him. “I am happy you’re ok, however you will not be leaving Beacon grounds until it is time for you to board an airship to Mistral.”

“Alright.” Jaune nodded.

“Also,” She whipped her crop, and the hoodie was torn from Jaune’s hands. “I’ll be confiscating this,”

“What?!”

“Hmm, it’s quite comfortable.” Glynda ran her hand across the material, and looked sharply at Jaune. “You need some discipline, I will be holding onto this until the end of the festival. Perform well, and you can have it back sooner.”

Jaune’s face goes crestfallen. “Alright…”

-----

Over the next month, Jaune would go on to practice many things in prep for the festival, footwork, swordsmanship paired with his shield work, aura control, physical conditioning, his aura arc, sense, and projection, along with the most important of all….

“Whats the kid doing?”

“I don’t know? He just tied a stone to himself and threw himself in the pool.”

“Is that hose next to him?”

Breath control and Lung capacity.

All while a diminutive girl with silver hair and red eyes watched him…

----

Mercury stretched and popped, as he was dropped in front of the Vista.

He had no idea how it happened, but Ozpin releashed him into Jaune’s hands, but since Jaune was busy, he was to be released to his butler, Ezekiel.

The old man in a suit look at him happily. “Welcome to the Vista, young Mercury.”

“Thanks, Pops.” Mercury then felt a pull at his side, and saw a small child pulling at his shirt. “Uh, hey brat?”

Shick. 

There was a knife in his side

Mercury covered his mouth and held back a scream, there was a blade in him, but did not want to show weakness.

He turn to the Butler, then the child. “Ahhh, why?”

The little childs then disappeared like a cracking mirror.

“Oh, that was Neo, she just does that, beware the children too, they’ve been learning from her. They all were pretty man about Master Arc’s life been attempted upon again, including Neo.”

“She stabbed for revenge, then?”

Ezekiel shrugged. “Maybe, sometimes she gets in a stabby mode.” 

Ezekiel then looked at his side, a dagger in his side. “You get used to it… Even if it’s bad for business.”

[ihaveatheoryonthat]

Note: This is unfinished and I likely won’t be returning to it. It’s fragmented and littered with placeholders/notes. If that’s a dealbreaker for you, you’re better off skipping this.

---

Dawn was beginning to grow frustrated.

Their game of ‘who would win in a battle’ had started out in good fun, but things had gone downhill the instant Barry resorted to Palmer. The only opponent he’d given half a second’s thought had been Cynthia, and even then, he’d concluded that the Tower Tycoon would be the victor. While he afforded each of his father’s Pokemon consideration, Dawn couldn’t help but notice that Heatran came up an annoying amount.

Admittedly, she had resorted to dirty tactics. She’d pulled her Arc Phone out, under the guise of checking [trainer]’s registered team, and searched ‘legendary pokemon counter trainers’.

“Sure,” She said, thinking fast and skimming the article, “But your dad doesn’t have to rely on Heatran or anything, right?” She scrambled, honing in on a list of banned pokemon, “Like, Unova’s battle facility doesn’t even allow legendaries. That wouldn’t be a problem for him, would it?”

“What?” He scoffed, “The Subway Bosses? They’re s’posed to be nasty, but there’s no way. He’d smoke ‘em even without Heatran!”

“Okay, but it says here Boss Emmet uses a couple of electric types. That’d be a real problem for Milotic and Dragonite.”

“One of ‘em’s a bug. Anything it can throw at Dragonite, Dragonite could take, and then sweep it. And I mean. Rhyperior.”

“Oh-hoho,” / “Well how about a Durant? Apparently they’re steel-bug-- [...]”

[they get distracted, after they get back around to Poketalk, Barry picks up the phone]

[...]

“It’d be cool to challenge Boss Emmet someday, though.” He said, absently scrolling down the article on her behalf. “He still couldn’t beat my dad, but he and his bro were real tough.”

“Did they retire or something?”

Barry blew out a gusty sigh, “Nah. It sucks, but Boss Ingo went missing, like, years ago. Never did find him, so multi battles are off the table for good.” “Apparently Boss Emmet really upped the ante after he took single matches on, though, so it could still be worth it.”

Belatedly, he processed the look on Dawn’s face.

“What?”

“Give me that,” She said, grabbing for her phone.

He wrinkled his nose, but handed it over, “I mean, it’s your phone anyway. I think.”

Dawn wasn’t listening; she scanned the page again, and there it was. In her haste to counter Heatran, she’d blown right past it: ‘Bosses Ingo and Emmet, the facility heads of Nimbasa City’s Battle Subway.’ Flicking her fingers down, she zoomed back to the top, verifying how old the article was, and then back down, looking for something-- anything-- else. When it turned to italics and tried to lead her to half a dozen related articles, she dismissed it entirely and went back to her search tab.

The first image result hurt.

That was the pose. That was the pose. It was mirrored by a smiling man in white, and there was a pokemon. A fire type.

She set the phone down, hard, and braced one hand against the table, the other creeping up to her face.

“You, uh… you good?” Asked Barry, tone suggesting he was well aware of the answer.

“I know where the missing Subway Boss is.” She said through her fingers, voice pitching into a hysterical whine, “And I left him there.”