#i think we would all either get stuck or Fall Off The Boat

[dxppercxdxver]

@firstmatedville, @chiropteracupola, and i are going to see a Historical Boat together next week(!) and ransom informed me you can pay fifty whole british pounds to do a rig climb and even if the price weren't an obstacle between our three combined disabilities i think we would perhaps be the Worst people in the world to try to scale the ropes of a sailing ship

[beanibon]

i love your mermaid AU! but what if we switch roles and reader is the water creature. how would the trigun boys react? maybe some nsfw headcanons?

I love this whole mermaid AU coming back, I definitely need to more on it cause I love Mermaid/Siren AUs so much.

TW: interspecies sex, oral (m!receiving/Wolfwood), use of aphrodisiacs (in Knives), creampie, size difference (Vash), breast-fucking (Vash), breeding (Knives), drowning (Knives)

(For Vash I wanted to have the Reader a more Whale Shark build, so they'll be slightly bigger than he is but very docile and sweet)

Vash is definitely the type of guy to go whale watching with mates, pair it with beers and snacks and he'll have the perfect outing on a day off.

The first time he spotted you was when Wolfwood teasingly pushed him overboard, complaining they needed bait to lure anything interesting. Vash arguing with his best friend while still in the water, only to panic as something brushed his leg, pulling him under water. That was when he met a curious mermaid, significantly larger then him, but gentle as they circled him, protecting him with tiger shark that had previously pulled Vash under.

You disappeared the moment Knives pulled Vash out of the water, resulting in screaming match between his brother and best friend. But all Vash could think about was the friendly face that greeted him the moment that suffocating water surrounded him.

After being denied on a boat for weeks from his overprotective brother, Vash eventually managed to return to the exact coordinates he found you, alone this time as watched the waters intensely. It wasn't long until he heard your echoing calls, surfacing to take a closer look.

Vash was mesmerised instantly, watching as you circled his boat with fascination, before pulling your large form onto it. It had Vash panicking at first, but the moment you towered over him all worries disappeared as your dampened hair cascading on either side of him.

Your large form was captivating, yet Vash became increasingly aware of your bare breasts that pressed against his body as your tongue licked his lips, slipping in-between them in a startling kiss.

Needy hands tore Vash's clothes off, leaving him naked for the world to see as you sank your larger body on his.

Vash moaned, hips grinding upwards at your advances. But you pushed him back, shuffling backwards as the boat lurched with your weight, squeezing your breasts over his cock, pumping them up and down.

The entire time Vash was whining, moaning and clawing at the deck of the boat, legs kicking as you worked his cock faster. He was flabbergasted at this sudden advance, but he couldn't stop looking at those patterned breasts, and suddenly this didn't feel so bad.

Vash pulled you into another kiss, moaning against your wet lips. You felt amazing around his cock, not to mention the way you had previously slightly crushed him.

He adored the size difference, enjoying being the weaker of you two as you easily had him whimpering as you squeezed your breasts around his cock.

A final cry had him coming all over your chest, panting as you gave him a praising kiss.

Vash found himself returning more frequently, part of him ashamed that he fucked a mermaid on a regular, but the moment he saw your beautiful form nuzzling into him those worries were swept away as he indulged in you yet again. Falling in love a little harder each time.

(Wolfwood works at a shark observatory, Reader is more so based of a flying fish who accidentally got stuck in bull sharks enclosure)

Nicholas is in charge of a pod of Bull Sharks at a rescue facility, bonding with the creatures and making sure they don't eat each other during feeding time.

The first time he spotted you it was during a smoke break, watching as the sharks darted rapidly towards the outer reef of their massive enclosure. It wasn't uncommon for wild fish or the occasional seal to get stuck in the enclosure, most workers tried to help the creature as quickly as possible. So you could imagine Wolfwood's surprise at having a frantic half-human half-fish creature fly out of the water, tripping him in their attempt to escape the hungry sharks.

Frantic high-pitched chirps and damp, webbed fingers helped Nicholas up, checking him over to make sure there was no injuries.

Meanwhile Nicholas was gobsmacked at the sight of you, cowering as a shark swam a little too close. You were stunning, but he wasn't the kind to believe in silly tales of mermaids... until now that was.

It was obvious you were trapped, the only way back to the ocean was either through the Bull Shark's enclosure or on land, you were stuck either way. So Nicholas opted to help, awkwardly scooping up your body as he exited the enclosure, carrying you as you chittered in his ear.

The moment he reached the edge of the ocean, just outside the enclosure that was walled off, you happily leapt into the water, chirping as you splashed water over your drying scales and skin.

Wolfwood was about to head back, until you chirped loudly his way, ushering him over. He hesitantly obliged, moving closer.

That's when you pounced on him, nuzzling into his chest as you purred. Nicholas felt his cheeks flush, unsure of what was even happening as small waves lapped at his now soaked body.

Delicate hands tugged his work pants lower, Nicholas trying to pull them back up, only to freeze as that purring mouth enveloped his oddly hardened cock. He didn't recall the uncomfortable tightness of his wet clothes, nor the way those stunning eyes had him feeling butterflies in his gut.

Yet your mouth was warm, bobbing up and down as Nicholas stuttered out shaky moans, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as your tongue swirled around the head.

His cock was taken down to the hilt as your throat opened to take him whole, eyes fluttering to look up at the human that so graciously saved you.

You swallowed his release easily, even licking your lips as you gave Nicholas a toothy grin nuzzling into him one last time before leaving. Nicholas left with his cock still exposed, flaccid and covered in drool and cum.

Turns out you needed rescuing a few more times from the grumpy Wolfwood, giving him a new reward each time.

(Knives is a marine biologist, working alongside his mother Rem at her underwater observatory after discovering she had obtained a new asset. Here Reader is a pufferfish mermaid :3)

Knives works in an underwater observatory facility, the lead marine biologist under his mother Rem Saverem. He's often hard to approach as he prefers solitary research in the large reef they've set up the facility in.

He was shocked when Rem excitedly presented you to her eldest son, showing off the mermaid they had rescued from poachers, some of the net still tangled in the many spines across your body.

Other than his mother, Knives was incharge of studying you in your recovery. You were often panicked at the people watching you, darting to hide and camouflage with the natural decor of your temporary tank.

You'd only ever be seen out when Knives was around, taking an odd fascination with the gloomy human that observed you, taking notes on behaviourisms or certain characteristics you portrayed.

When one of the scientists startled you, causing you to panic, that's when Knives realised that the net entangled in your spines was a hindrance to your recovery. Frowning as you got caught on some coral, further injuring yourself as that only panicked you further.

You eventually freed yourself, sad chirping noises filling the tank as you pawed at the missing spines that had snapped off in your fear-stricken phase.

So Knives took it upon himself to untangle the net, taking a small knife to saw away the thick rope.

Of course you startled the moment he entered the water, hiding instantly. But Knives was patient, after all he was doing this after hours, against Rems orders of not interfering with you in hopes you'd recover without relying on humans.

Once you found the courage, recognising the man that made you follow along the glass in silent curiosity, you emerged. Quiet squeaks sounding as you observed this intruder, spines flaring the moment he pulled the knife from his pocket.

Turning to flee, Knives was quick to intercept, grabbing the rope before you could further harm yourself. You flailed desperately, screeching as Knives struggled to cut the net. But once the first cut was made, hissing as your spine pricked his flesh, you calmed.

Allowing Knives to slice the rope free of your body, you whimpered. Hands explored Knives body as he worked, slitted eyes admiring his exposed pectorals, chirping out admiring noises as he quirked a brow at you.

Another prick had Knives flinching, unaware you had flared your spines again, this time with an ulterior motive unknown to Marine Biologist.

Knives mind went foggy, panting into his oxygen mask as his skin began to warm, body feeling oddly fuzzy. You seemed unbothered, finally free of the net you circled the human, slipping off the mask that allowed him to breath.

Quickly you pulled off the remainder of his clothes, body coiling around him as you slid onto his hardened cock, Knives gasping at the foreign sensation.

You were now above him, pushing him to the sandy bottom of your tank, lower body humping his cock as pleased chirps drawled from your lips. The feeling of his cock was addictive to you, watching as Knives body reacted to your aphrodisiac, eyes clouded with lust as he reciprocated your advances.

Knives had been milked several times before his lungs began to squeeze, urging him to resurface for air. But no matter how many times his body jolted or fought against your continuous grinding, you didn't untangle yourself from him, simply cooing at how his hands covered his mouth.

He was borderline unconscious before he was discovered, embarrassingly enough. Rem, his mother, the one to save him from your ruthless fucking.

Yet despite being scolded and treated against your aphrodisiac, Knives couldn't find it in him to regret what he had done. In fact, the moment you were released back after a full recovery, Knives easily found you after you refused to leave the area.

Turns out, other than the drowning part, he enjoyed every touch and caress of your deadly body against his, and he'd be lying if he didn't indulge in some more sinful acts with his precious asset.

[fullofgutsndopamine]

put me back in (i would do it again)

or; re-visiting old ghosts

more wcbah here (not mandatory to read other parts. doesn’t necessarily follow the timeline either so)

TW: cursing, mention of past abuse, PTSD, bad coping skills, mention of alcohol/alcoholism (not charlie or r)

For a long time, the street was forbidden.

like some kind of imaginary barrier forbid you from crossing that section of the street, some physical force putting a hand against your chest and forcing you to stop, to reevaluate, to think this through

usually it comes in the form of charlie.

for awhile, a mystery problem would come up; the pain that radiates down his leg that only seems to come up when close to this block would flare up, the sky would turn darker and charlie would insist it was time to come home, promising a warm mug of tea.

charlie could tell the hesitation.

his hand tangled in yours, he’s whistling as his head is up, looking high into the trees, the reds and greens and purples that only a midwest fall can promise you.

they get to the stop sign. you wait for charlie to open his mouth, to come up with an excuse, to fake an injury.

instead, he squeezes your hand: “i think the Marshall’s put their boat up last week, finally. I was working on their pier-“

your breathing is as timed as the beating in your chest. charlie is obviously making small talk, trying to make this less frightening-as if you hadn’t tossed and turned and lost sleep over this house and the monsters that roamed the too small four walls.

charlie’s grip on your hand tightens as the old house comes into view. you aren’t sure if it’s for your benefit or his. his voice never wavers, and he’s talking nonsense, just talking to be able to talk, but it’s comforting.

“fuck.”

the for sale sign creeks as it flips in the wind.

the house is just as you left it; the peeling paint, the mailbox on the ground. it’s like you and charlie never existed, never made it out, never did anything, ghosts dancing on the lawn between the houses.

you only realize charlie let go of your hand when you feel the empty space.

“charlie.”

your voice is harsher than it needs to be, and your whispering, which is unnecessary as everyone is gone, ghosts don’t haunt this part of town anymore.

“cmon. just want to see.”

leaves crumble under his boots and he kicks some away as if for confirmation, seeing his and yours initials in the old pavement by the mailbox, as if the nightmares aren’t enough to confirm this is the place.

“charlie!”

your practically yelling but he can’t hear you as he walks towards the door, his fingers linger behind as he traces over the peeling paint of the house, how some chips and gets stuck under his nails, how he’ll carry that with him

“do you think the lock is still broken?”

his hand rests on the door.

“shouldn’t we let the dead rest?”

it’s heavy in the air, because no one’s actually dead-you both just wish, most of the time. this house has seen it all, you’ve both seen it all, and it would only make sense.

his hand rests on the door handle before a gust of wind makes something in the front fall over.

you and charlie race back home, feet flying you to your sanctuary breathless as charlie yells, “go, go, go.”

charlie waits a few days to bring it up.

dark bags are under his eyes. he’s back to not sleeping-most nights you find his place in the bed cold, grabbing an old shirt of his off the floor as you walk downstairs in search of him.

“i was thinking.” he says carefully a few days later. he’s talking to his plate, his head ducked and he’s the nervous boy you grew up with again, always saying the wrong thing, always in the way.

“hm?”

it’s a half committed response, flipping through a newspaper you borrowed from the neighbor. they’re gone for the fall, but can afford to leave the subscription going, the least of their problems, so it continues.

“your old house,” he says, making your head whip up, “we could buy it.”

your hand grips the nightgown you’re wearing.

“charlie.”

“make it a home,” he says, using his knuckle to push his glasses up his face. they’re still broken, lean towards the left, “i already called. we can set up a meeting.”

“make it a home.” you repeat, “charlie, we got scared by the wind-“

“i won’t be scared,” he shakes his head, “not with you there. go with me?”

his voice drops and it almost sounds like begging, on the verge of tears.

“please.”

the days to the visit crawl and run at the same time. you find yourself busy with projects that aren’t necessary: raking the same leaves, watering half dead flowers-charlie takes the time off from the small projects he makes himself busy with around town, doesn’t leave your side.

it feels like a death march.

guilt and dread gnaws at your stomach, rips through you-but charlie is humming, smiling, as he walks hand in hand to a place you both memorized.

“and this here is the kitchen-“

it’s weird, having a stranger show you a house you grew up in. can see the marks on the wall by the stairs where charlie would mark how tall he was in comparison to you, the creaking stairs with the railing that falls if you grip it too hard-the sink that still leaks-

how the realtor would constantly be trying to get you two back on this tour, finding something to try and make this house appetizing

the stairs creak and groan as you follow upstairs, bow you hesitate until charlie steps in front, puts one foot in front of the other and offers his hand:

“i got us.”

the twin sized bed in the bedroom right off the stairs, that charlie never truly fit into, the nights he’d practically roll off the bed. the windows that creeked with the wind, flooded in the fall-

the first night is spent in the too small room. charlie insisted he could throw the twin sized mattress in the trash, buy a new mattress in a few weeks, that the pillows and blankets on the floor would be like a sleepover when you both were kids and the shadows scared you still, chased you to his front door.

you sit on the edge of the mattress as charlie walks around the room, his fingers trialing behind everything.

kelly, the realtor, has long given up. said to meet her downstairs when you’re both done, to give you space, explore the “rich history of the house.” you and charlie both hold in the laughs.

hands are shaken and papers are signed that day.

the move doesn’t take long; you both don’t own much and charlie keeps falling this a fresh start, trying to throw away anything that feels wrong. insists this time will be different, that he’ll make this right.

during the day, the house doesn’t seem too nefarious. you’re able to wash dishes at the sink, charlie hammers at the stair case, a cracking radio in the back-it feels like the house on the hill, for most of the day.

until night falls. shadows creep and bolt as you make your way around the house, hand in hand with charlie, even for the restroom. anxiety rips at your throat. but every time you look at charlie, he’s smiling. it’s all teeth, a genuine smile you haven’t seen in awhile, and his voice is low, borders on a hum as he talks:

“we’ll get it right, this time.”

charlie wakes you up from the floor. the front room doesn’t have much; spent most of the day dreaming up where things could go-a television, eventually, a small couch-charlie had a hand full of your paintings he insisted you brought with, spent the day with an arm full of them-holding them against the walls, tilting his head, trying to get it right-a nail between his teeth until he found the perfect place-marks the spot.

you were hoping to get away with it, sleeping in the front room. it was like before, when exhaustion finally took over and you two passed out wherever you could, only until the other woke you up, marched upstairs.

instead, you crawl into the twin sized mattress, back against the wall. it’s scary for only a moment-suddenly you’re a kid holding your breath waiting for your father to come home again-

until-

until

charlie slides into the mattress. it creeks and dips wit him but your hand is tangled in his against his chest and you can feel the steady beat from his chest to talk you off the ledge.

“tell me a story.”

charlie laughs from behind you. it gets captured in the too small room, makes itself louder. you imagine it chases away the ghosts that hide and peak and linger behind the doors

“i think i’m all out of stories, honey.”

“one more,” you’re all but begging, “for old times sake.”

this time, he isn’t drowning out noises. not the refrigerator slamming shut and the sound of a bottle cap hitting aluminum floor. the yelling, the “i’ll find you. you know i will.” charlie’s lips don’t need to be pressed against your ear to be the only sound you hear now. you’re a kid and you believe in princess’ and far away lands and happy endings again-

“once upon a time,” charlie drawls, “in a place far, far away-“

when you wake up, the sun is shining through the windows and you can hear the waves being chased to the shore, crash, build themselves up again

the spot where charlie laid is cold. you can smell coffee in the air, and the radio cracks downstairs.

he’s smiling, as you walk downstairs. a handful of nails again, but the sink isn’t leaking anymore, can’t hear the drip drip drip that you swore would drive you insane.

“morning, honey.” charlie smiles in the home he made, “made you coffee. figured we could get started outside today-“

and as you curl up next to him, the cup of coffee burning your hand, you’re home.

[brightdarkness-2013]

Chapter 5: Chapter 5?! No Way!

Summary:Prowl gets a new hang out.

Blaster and I had decided that our mer friend needed a place to go during the day. Being trapped in the cove and swimming in a tight circle around the rock wasn’t the best place to swim. There was no room to stretch and the water was only up to our waists if we stepped in. His injuries were healing rather well and it was painfully obvious he needed more space to move. Thus we set off one afternoon in search of a good spot along the shore. A little trekking through some light brush, grass, and some long stretch of beach littered with so many shells our steps crunched no matter where we stepped we found a little place far enough from the town it was unlikely anyone would head out here. The little cape was void of any garbage or evidence that anyone had been around the area. Even if there were some people who came out there were plenty of rocks and patches of seagrass to hide in. So early the following day we coaxed our mer friend out with some m&ms.

“Come on.”

We were running along the coast, our mer easily keeping up. We’d give him an m&m every once in awhile to keep him from turning back. However he didn’t appear to be thrilled that we were only giving him one at a time if that glare he gave us every time we threw one was anything to go by. Blaster and I on the other hand were laughing like we were having the time of our lives. Once we got to the slope that separated from the water our mer hesitated, giving out a few quiet sounds as he watched us as he lifted his head from the water.

“We’ll meet ya on the other side.” I reassured as I made the motion of going around something though he just gave out another noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine. “We’ll call ya if you get lost. I promise.”

Off we went again. Once we made it to the cape I stuck my hand under the water and snapped my fingers like I did to call him so many times before as Blaster called for him. Thankfully it didn’t take long. All in all the discovery of a safe place with more space had put our friend in a better mood. We’d still feed him in the cove on weekdays, but on the weekends we’d head down to the cape where we’d talk and watch our mer stalk the wildlife there. Either creeping around the rocks or hiding in the seagrass. The fish in the cape were small, but it wasn’t like he needed it to survive with us feeding him. I’d whistle little tunes every once in awhile and Blaster would watch as our mer gave me questioning looks. And one day I had my inspiration. Sunday at ten am I had it.

“Prowl.”

“Huh?”

“That’s what I’m going to call our mer.” I answered as we watched him.

“Prowl…” Blaster tried out the name. “It fits. You can only hope he thinks so too.”

“Eh, he’s a fish with-”

Blaster gave me a mildly disappointed look and I just grinned. “Mammal.”

“Ok, he’s a mammal with an attitude, but I doubt he’ll care too much what we call him.”

“Fair enough… Please tell me you haven’t been referring to him as a fish this entire time.”

“In my defense I assumed so because he lives in the ocean.”

“So do dolphins.”

“Oh whatever that’s one example.”

“Whales.” My friend was grinning smugly now.

“Shut up, Blaster.”

Blaster just laughed and I shoved him over onto the beach where he just continued to laugh much to my dismay.

444444444444444444 Even more fours!4444444444444444444

“Jazz! Finally! I’ve called you like twenty times!”

“I’m kind of celebrating my sister's birthday right now.”

“Oh please you’re in the corner with your headphones eating all the sweets.”

“I’m outnumbered and last time they locked me out in the backyard and ate all of the cake in front of me because they thought it was funny.”

“It was.”

“Blaster.”

“And it was good cake. Ice cream and oreo.”

“Blaster!”

“Ok, ok so I went out with Gaven and you’re never gonna believe what happened.”

“What did you find a giant squid? Did you fall in?”

“No. Prowl helped us fish. He herded them into the net. Gaven nearly fell off the boat the way he was leaning over the side. Kept yelling at me to get the camera.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. He must’ve seen me leaving with Gaven and followed. We got a ton of fish and Gaven even shared some with Prowl afterward.”

“I bet he was happy to have some live meat for once.” I couldn’t help, but laugh.

“You have no idea. He seems to be doing much better. I didn’t realize how much those wing fins helped. He can take some pretty sharp turns now that the right one isn’t torn.”

“Maybe if he can keep helping ya and your stepdad he won’t leave.”

“Jazz, if his pod comes I doubt he’s gonna stay and settle for a fishing boat. Not exactly a good pod member to befriend and bond with.”

“And what if they don’t? What if they’re dead? Maybe herding fish for ya guys will be enough to make him stay. I mean that’s basically what he did when he hunted with his pod, right?” I fidgeted in my seat as the girls laughter in the next room erupted.

“Possibly… But he can’t just stay in the cove.”

“And why not? If they’re dead he has nowhere else to go. What is he going to do out there alone? I don’t want him to just die out there.”

“I don’t either, but if he does decide to leave what then?”

“I don’t know… I just don’t want him to go. I mean we’ve made some great progress. He stopped growling at me. He twitches an ear fin when we call his name. I think we’ve bonded.”

“I know what you mean, but… Just… Prepare yourself for the worst and hope for the best. Maybe they’ll come.”

“Is it really that wrong that I kind of don’t want them to?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t want him to go either, but he misses them.”

“... Is there a possibility that he could be accepted into another pod? You know if they are dead and he still leaves?”

“I have no clue. I doubt he’d want another. They’re his family. Pods may mingle from time to time during a breeding season, but I don’t think they join unless they absolutely have to.”

“So that’s a no.” I let my head fall back in my chair as I blindly reached for another treat.

“Certain types are different and have different ways. I only have the barest knowledge on mers. For all I know they could be completely accepting of new members.”

I sighed and silence reigned for a time. In the end Blaster was the one who broke the silence.

“Sometimes there’s just nothing you can do, Jazz, no matter how much you want to.”

“I know… See you tonight at the cove?”

“I’ll be there.”

Next

First

Masterpost

[recapcrew]

Week 21 Transcript

Video Link

Intro

Extra extra, read all about it! Welcome to the Empire’s Recap, and today we will be going over the chaos and drama of our (somewhat) respected rulers!

This week, the emperors may be headed down a road of potentially-illegal actions, including a black market, stealing, and several instances of murder. It wouldn't be empires without it, and the hermits fit right in with their new tag game!

Pix

Pixlriffs hears a zombie in his catacombs, and tracks the sound to a secret chamber behind the painting of Santa Perla. One of the tombs inside is making noise; has Pix’s ability to bring back extinct creatures made it to dead kings as well?

Not quite - it’s Rendog, who was a king that a little a bit ago back on Hermitcraft before finally making his way through the Rift. Pix dusts the dirt off him and brings Ren into the sunlight, who then confidently declares he can make his own start, heading off to the uninhabited West.

The strange things don’t slow down; Xisumavoid turns up, looking a bit shorter than normal. Pix introduces him to David, happy to be having someone who actually knows redstone take a proper look at his creation. The copper ager impresses Xisuma, and is also why he’s here; he wants to build a copper farm, and thinks Pix would be interested considering his usage.

They build up a platform in the End out of prismarine borrowed from Joey’s shop - blanket access to a shop is a dangerous thing - and plan to lead a bunch of zombies through the End portal to start the farm working. Pix’s sharp ears are used to hearing zombies by now, and he even finds a spawner with convenient placement to dropping them through from above, even if a few still need to be baited in with a game of ring-around-the-end-portal.

Unfortunately, once through the portal, the number of successful transplants proves too great, and not even a totem can save Pix from dying. He returns, slaying the zombies who stole his things since Xisuma stuck them in boats, and NOW things can proceed. Xisuma leads an army of zombies through the void, with Pix in the back acting as his eyes.

Now they can run the farm, and explain its workings with terms like Local Difficulty and Reinforcement Mechanics. Ah, technical players. Zombies go in, copper comes out, good enough for me.

On his own, Pix runs the farm as testing and improvement. His attempts to big-brain things with snowballs falls short, but the big-brain boats are a success, keeping anyone who has to refill the zombies from meeting the same fate he had.

The output of the farm is impressive, and plenty to refill David, so he and Xisuma return and have more redstoner talk, this time with Tick Ranges!

The hands-on learning from creating David has made Pixlriffs a true redstone engineer.

Scott

Today in Chromia, Scott the totally-not-the-emerald-ore-thief is showing off some houses that he built on stream. They're a work in progress, OK? Then he decides to give the server’s resident pirate a taste of his own medicine and plunders the booty from his treasure chest. Wow, sounds weird.

He temporarily hides it behind a painting – the oldest trick in the book, which works for about three seconds until Pixlriffs shows up and confronts Scott about his missing items

[PIX] I owned a deepslate emerald ore that’s gone missing from my museum very recently and the lore compass pointed me directly to you.

[SCOTT] A lore compass?

[NARRATOR] Swearing innocence and placing the blame on his deepslate emerald perfume, Scott realizes that he needs a better place for his stolen goods, and what better place than a market made just for illicit items?

Unfortunately, he gets caught while stocking the market up. Fortunately, it’s only Lizzie, and she’s easily bribed into silence with Joey’s stolen trident and a head. Really, the suspiciously low price she paid should have tipped her off that something fishy was going on. Not that she’s all innocent, either – in return, Scott receives a stack of bottles of enchanting, and a shulker box named, somewhat alarmingly, ‘Sorry you got tagged.’

The next invitee on the list for Scott’s market is a certain goblin who might not be too fond of the sheriff these days…

[FWHIP] -sell whatever…

[SCOTT] Yep!

[FWHIP] And it’s fine?

[SCOTT] Yep! You can sell whatever, you can sell things you find, things you acquire, whether its legally or not…

[NARRATOR] After paying him and his kingdom a visit, they head back to the bridge for a tour of the market. Both fWhip and Lizzie have been sworn to silence over this. Shh, they were never here…

fWhip

Speaking of, looking underground for an update on fWhip, he has decided he needs to send a strongly worded note to Oli about his debt.

The fact that Oli is at home when fWhip arrives is of no consequence as it seems Oli is up in the clouds, so fWhip leaves his notes and gets out without confrontation.

Scott visits his underground cavern to introduce him to an underground market out of range of the Law, so of course he has to sell some stolen sweet berries from Animalia! Except… he finds some odd items hidden in the chest. Wonder why they were hidden like that? Not that it’ll stop him taking them, of course.

Now, he wants to make a tram system all the way to Animalia, and seeing as he is basically under the empire, there should be lots of amethyst! Lizzie agreed and he pays her by building this system - after she tells him where she wants it to end.

Now last week fWhip forgot to pay Sausage, so he takes a quick fly to Sanctuary to leave a stack of copper before he gets back to work on the tram station.

Jimmy visits, smaller than usual, and fWhip mocks him by making squeaky toy noises with the deputy badge. However, him and Scar are apparently on an assassination mission! Well, let’s see how they do in the deep dark!

fWhip comes out on top and then sets up another stall in the underground market selling deputy badges specifically to mess with Jimmy.

Jimmy

The sheriff of Tumble Town seems… a little shorter than usual today. On stream, Sausage threw a Lore potion on him to turn him small, and he doesn’t know how to turn it back!

Now, remember last time where Joel defeated Jimmy in that duel they had? Well Jimmy’s received his consolation prank - over the wall of Tumble Town is a massive statue of Joel. The man is a MENACE!

Anyway, it’s time to meet with Scar - the plan is going to be put into action, and it’s time to get the deputy badge back.

The code phrase is Volleyball, not that it works the first few times Jimmy yells it, but Scar swoops in and they try to kill fWhip chasing him all over the Goblands. fWhip fights back with his new weapon and makes them chase him down to a not well traversed part of the Goblands - the ancient city.

Jimmy gets killed by fWhip who follows them back to Tumble Town, where fWhip manages to kill them both. He’s gone mad with power… there's only one man to turn to now.

[JIMMY] Guys, fWhip’s mad with power. I can’t stop him! There’s only one man to turn to…

Joel

[NARRATOR] Oblivious, Joel decides to continue work on his megapalace by building three of the towers, or "magical plinths," surrounding the central building. First though, he needs to get quartz. A lot of it. He wrangles some additional villagers to trade with, and 12,000 trades and a lot of smelting later, he has all the quartz he needs.

Before he starts on the towers, Joe Hills drops by with his resume, and a cover letter in the form of an all-purpose diss track for Joel to use on future rivals, thoroughly impressing him. The full thing is an experience we left for you in Joel and Joe’s videos. Have fun!

Joel then starts on the first tower, but halfway through, realizes he dropped an entire shulker of smooth quartz. Cue pain and suffering.

[JOEL] So! One second, please.

[JOEL, SCREAMING IN THE DISTANCE] Ahhhhh! No! Oh my goshhhhhh!

[NARRATOR] He trades and smelts some more quartz, and finishes the tower to go meet up with Grian at Tumble Town.

There, despite the Sheriff's best attempts at stopping them, they spawn a wither on the mountaintops right outside Tumble Town. The fight goes... chaotically, with most of it being done in total darkness. Jimmy manages to grab the star first, trading it back to them for a wither head and some other items. The three of them fly down to Tumble Town to inspect for damages, and after some more shenanigans (and an explosive death), Joel returns to Stratos.

He finishes off the other two towers and plans a new build for Hermes off the central walkway.

Lizzie

Lizzie’s mob drop bundle looks a bit empty compared to her other ones. Mission: decoration is once again the theme of this episode. On the list today, bee-hunting;

[LIZZIE] Now, lets be smart about this!

[NARRATOR] --impersonating a princess;

[LIZZIE] ‘Tis I, Princess Katherine, back from another hard day working in the spider farm!

[NARRATOR] --and reusing abandoned mob heads that she forgot until now are all in store.

Now onto the more difficult mob heads. The blaze comes rather… quickly.

[LIZZIE] –a grand total, of 208 blazes, I have the head!

[NARRATOR] The enderman head chase is at least more intense involving a lot of boats and a lot of death.

[LIZZIE] No, you have not got déjà vu, I am in fact making this journey for the seventh time.

[NARRATOR] When placing Mr.Enderman head, Lizzie is suddenly inturrupted by a voice *cough* Grian *cough* her quote-on-quote “conscience”. He leads her into a genuine tea party where Grian is waiting for her, revealing it was all a ruse for the tag game. Instead of pushing her, it is Lizzie herself that falls into the Void - lost one of her nine lives there!

It is now Lizzie’s turn to be the tag and obtain a new mission: kill a hermit, this time with lightning. But it all benefited her as she needed lightning to get her last mob heads. Being near the black mark–, I mean great bridge, Lizzie acquired from Scott a trident, a zombie head, and some mysterious trinket that she immediately hides in her berry farm.

Finally obtaining her last two mob heads, Lizzie now only has her “kill a hermit” mission left. She successfully attracts hermit False and with a genius plan--

[LIZZIE] –around, and count- count the cobbles in the cobblestone real quick for me…

[NARRATOR] --she manages to kill her, making her the new jester. She went through with the murder with an apologies box to gift the victim and left with a possible enemy.

False

Things are getting glitchy in Cogsmeade. The Grand Architect wakes from a strange vision, echoes of her own voice ringing. Anyway, she checks the sign, which seems to be covered in lichen, which informs her it was not her who built the tower, but someone else.

In response, she builds an interior for a potential resident! Joe Hills comes in for an interview—

[JOE] Oh, I might have a resume here for ya, if you’re interested!

[FALSE] Ooh!

[NARRATOR] --and is hired to keep an eye out for the tower. He gives her a report, which is basically…

[JOE, HIGH PITCHED] False Report, by Joe Hills!

[FALSE] Who?

[JOE] Someone’s dressed as False, but in different clothes!

[FALSE] How they got in?

[JOE] Threw a book at the carpet and a new book was dispensed.

[FALSE] Any other suspicious activity?

[JOE] Climbed the tower. Flew away.

[NARRATOR] To pay him, she checks out Hermepire, for loyalty books. There she meets Scar, who immediately tries to swindle her and Cub, who tries to get them to join his, uh, his cult. A chest labeled "False" catches her attention, so she comes back later and grabs some stuff out of it. A trident, a key card and a map that are definitely hers.

Sausage

Family is important, especially to the Guardian of Sanctuary. The blank slate that Bdubs left last week is changed to a gold sun, for his dear Joel, and his Tia Maria arrives. She's a leatherworker, the best in the business.

Bdubs shocks him when he visits. They joke around about the Godly tierlist, but the visions come for Sausage and they travel back in time: this time to Hermitcraft Season 8. It's the first time Sausage has ever taken anyone on the trip with him, and it's somewhere Bdubs recognizes! It's a nostalgia trip for Bdubs, who last saw his season 8 base - and his horse, Lulu - when the moon crashed! If you don't watch Hermitcraft and don't understand this reference, we recommend watching the Hermitcraft recap, especially the finale episode of season eight.

ANYWAY, the Brains of the L.O.R.E team shows up, and gives Sausage a showcase on dreams and multidimensional travel. They decide dreams must be the case, and head off to interrogate the number 1 sleeper on the server: Gem. This goes about as well as one might think.

[SAUSAGE, SOUNDING VAUGELY OFFENDED] Thanks for telling us the truth now, GeminiTay from multiple realities!

He calms down by building a couple new buildings on the new road to the Cathedral so some more villagers can move in - Sanctuary is getting livelier by the minute.

Gem

Somewhere else getting an upgrade is Dawn! it’s time for Gem to tackle the town centre of, add some more infrastructure other than a tavern and a church.

One of the builds that is missing from Dawn is a storage room! Princess Gem is outgrowing her starter storage and she wants to build some stuff anyway, so why not combine the two!

She decides to build a warehouse in her town centre, but gets interrupted by Sausage and Pix who are apparently becoming conspiracy theorists. She works out they’re confused about her world hopping stuff, but that’s easy enough to explain - she’s just LARPing with her friends!

[GEM] –a key part!

[SAUSAGE] You killed Bdubs in two seconds.

[GEM] Well, where Bdubs is from, we kill Bdubs a lot.

[NARRATOR] Well, everyone might be going insane but at least the warehouse turns out looking amazing! Deep slate in hand and inspiration in mind, she brings a path along the dock and builds a crane to help bring packages from ships onto land!

She takes a visit to her friends in Hermitopia where she meets Impulse and Jevin, and False - the current owner of the Tag hat - makes a mild effort to kill her with dripstone. Gem tries to convince them to join her religion but it… doesn’t work that well.

[GEM] --so good! Oh my…

[FALSE] Oh they do!

[JEVIN] Oh my god.

[FALSE] I’m sold!

[GEM, LAUGHING] Jevin, they’re on your nose a little bit.

[JEVIN, LAUGHING] I know right, I’m like a librarian right now.

[IMPULSE] They look natural on False though, that’s great.

[JEVIN] You know what, I’m out, never mind, take ‘em back, I don’t want ‘em.

[IMPULSE] Oh…

[GEM, OFFENDED] What?

[FALSE] Wow

[NARRATOR] After visiting Hermitopia, Gem feels she needs to step up her game a little bit - she wants to build the first ship in Dawn! It really makes a difference in the atmosphere of Dawn, and Gem is very happy with her new ship!

Joey

Joey wants to be a good captain to his new crewmates, despite them murdering him, so he heads back to the End to gather them some wings. It takes a while to find places to pillage that aren’t already raided, but he does come home with an ender chest full of treasure, as well as enough wings for everyone and a few spares.

And he can’t even put those things away before Shubble, Xisuma, and Cleo roll up on his storage room and start unloading fireworks from crossbows. The rapid spawncamping lags him out too hard to run away, and he dies four times in a row (that we see).

When he can finally get a word in edgewise, Joey lies about sending his pirates to assassinate Shelby, but since their truce is now DEFINITELY gone, a little bit of blackmail drops onto the table. The Witch leaves, and we’re sure this isn’t the end of things.

Once again, Joey pretends this was all a test for his pirates; it wouldn’t be Pirate Joe if he wasn’t deluding himself, would it? He does still grant them their pirate wings, and they formally gift him Reginald - the ship, since the ‘fat parrot’ of that name dying was what started the whole thing - before returning to their new Hermitopia. A place he’ll have to check out.

But today’s events have crossed the line. Pirate Joe needs better defenses.

First up is a shield, forged - of course - by Gator. What is seemingly just a really cool hook transforms into an even cooler barrier of light to catch his enemies off guard.

Next is storage. He’s had enough of leaves appearing in his chest room, and of risking all his fancy new gear being stolen, since people are getting bolder. Instead, he digs out a space under his chest room to make a secret hideout with a hidden entrance.

He DOES show the trick to entering this secret hideout on camera, which could be dangerous now that the fourth wall on Empires is basically a trampoline. The Captain’s Quarters are nevertheless magnificent, a perfect place to hide goodies and plan raids on his foes. As long as no one else watches his videos of course.

Outro

And with that join us next week for more chaos and shenanigans! Thank you for watching, liking, and subscribing, and thanks to everyone helping with the project, check them all out below!

[rekursor]

steins;gate hogwarts AU (because i can’t come up with anything creative)

He sat there, shocked, as the hat was taken off his head. He wasn’t quite sure if the voice was still echoing around the seemingly endless hall (what with the roof being the sky itself?) or maybe it was just how loud the shout was so it was still ringing in his ears... or maybe his head just wanted to burn it in, just to make him suffer.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

He had dreaded it. Of course, Rintarou Okabe knew nothing about hogwarts houses. He simply heard some rumours in the crowd on the way in and he figured it all out. He was a slytherin, no doubt about it. So when the house shouted the last house he’d want to be in... Well.

He tried not to meet anyones gaze, they were clapping. They didn’t know how horribly things had fallen apart for him. What kind of evil man ends up in the house for the goody kiddies? An absolute disgrace. A failure to his kind.

He took his seat in the Hufflepuff table and let out a sigh, was this the end of his saga then? He knew things would fall apart the moment he knew that he had to live away from Mayuri, knowing that even if she did have “magic blood”, she wouldn’t be coming to Hogwarts till he was in third year. So what was he supposed to do here now that his entire life was ruined because of the stupid hat?

the next day

After an uneasy night, Okabe lazily sat down at his first class. Potions. What did he care? His life was over. The students around him sure seemed enthusiastic though. The class started, he was barely listening. A bit of the disappointment of his career as an aspiring evil dark overlord being ruined but also a bit of missing Mayuri. What might she be up to now? Not that he got much time to think about it.

The class was noisy, for most of the first week actually. It’s like most of them were still at awe now that they were finally at Hogwarts. Okabe was shocked at first when he saw the castles towers from the boats and it IS a little hard to not be shocked by bits of magic here and there and realising the extent of the potential of it, but he had better things to worry about.

So far, he hadn’t made a single friend. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he was observing. Biding his time. So far, not many people had stuck out. There had been that one girl sitting besides him on the first day for a lecture, she kept answering every question, even ones that weren’t asked. He sure knew who NOT to sit next to again from that, but other than that, things were going just fine.

It wasn’t until one fine Defence against the dark arts lectures that he would make his first friend.

It was their first practical lecture, they weren’t supposed to cast any spells at each other just yet, just pick a partner for the upcoming lectures and practice basic dueling etiquette. He got paired up with seemingly the only other person who didn’t have any friends, although he did find it surprising, considering her… interesting personality.

“Hey, you’re the guy that no one talks to!” She said, walking towards him as they were assigned together. Okabe wasn’t sure how to react to that but he was already not so sure if he wanted to do this.

“It’s…” said Okabe, trying to think of how to reply to her, “I just don’t want to talk to anyone.” It wasn’t a lie, either, better than nothing.

“Ah, well, no bother! We can be friends.” She looked so confident in herself, with that smile on her face and her shining like she knew exactly how things were going to go. Where did she get that from? ”Well, I’m not entirely sure about that but whatever.” He said, taking a breath and deciding he just had to power through this like the rest of his school life.

“Don’t be a killjoy now, this’ll be fun!”

“Sure, sure, whatever.”

The lecture went by fairly quick after that. They weren’t really supposed to do anything so everyone was just kinda hanging out and “getting to know each other” wasn’t going so well for the girl because he refused to talk to her. It was only when they were supposed to leave that the girl jumped all of a sudden, which shocked okabe, “Huh?! What is it?”

“DUDE WHAT’S YOUR NAME? I FORGOT???” She said, making Okabe wince due to her tone. She didn’t have to scream it out.

“Okabe.” He said, walking away without caring about what she thought about his name. Not that she cared of course, it’s like she didn’t notice how unbothered he was, she just didn’t let up.

“Oooo that’s a cool name! I’m Suzuha,” she said, turning towards him with her braids looking like helicopter wings around her head, “Let’s get going then?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant. He just kept walking, but it did somewhat bug him that she was right behind him. He decided to take a left into a corridor that didn’t lead where they were supposed to be. Yep, still behind him.

“Is this a shortcut? Don’t tell me you’ve explored the corridors enough to know shortcuts now!” She said, completely oblivious to what he was trying to do here.

“Yeah, definitely, this one leads to a cliff which we can jump off of!” He said, wondering if she’ll pick up on the disinterest in his tone.

“HAH! Yeah, hope so!”

She didn’t.

He sighed, turning back and walking towards his next class, this was hopeless. He just had to hope she got bored and left him alone soon enough. If only he knew.

---

AN

alrighttt finally. i made myself sit down and write something again and this turned out a bit better than i expected. A bit. And my expectatinos were low.

this is the second thing im writing though! the first was a one shot of hardly 400 words i think so i’m happy with this. as i wrote it, it snowballed so i might write more in this universe of sorts.

as i said i’m really new so any constructive criticism is heavily appreciated. or maybe you just want to say that you enjoyed it or something. or maybe you have some ideas for this. or maybe you want to call okabe a little meow meow. whatever i appreciate anything you have to say just knowing someone read this is good enough LOL

ALSO THIS IS ON AO3 NOW IT’S SO COOL SEEING MYOWN WORK THERE OMG IM https://archiveofourown.org/works/43190751/chapters/108553488

[pwblogarchive]

December 2006

December 3, 2006

“status”

yesterday i fell backwards through a window- sure it was sugarglass and light wood.still felt the nerves slip.been sleeping 3 hour nights.i love watching people sing and speak and write about the people and things that they love.it makes me feel regular again.gave up on love when i started seeing about it in gossip rags.gave up on god when i realized one day my father was gonna die.gave up on myself too many times to count- you could trade mistakes for sheepand count me away forever at night.thanks for never giving up on me.even when you truly should have.and most of our incoherrent thought is wasted on whether it will mean more to stay or to go. if we can get home before the light hits our bedroom.

December 3, 2006

“a penny for your thoughts”

im sensing some antidote in the way the world has been speaking to me.but im all heart with these fingers stuck in my ears-playing scenes from my childhood so loud that i cant hear whats happened to me.you cant fly these wings, you cant sleep in this box with me.somewhere theres a backroom for us to be swapping spit in. a ditch for me to be forgotten again."there are plenty of fish in the sea" quip pretty fisherman on boats in stocked lakes and fish farms.do you think about me when you see the moon in the afternoon?"shape up or ship out"im nailed and boarded up in a box addressed to somewhere else.of all gods jokes, i am the most cruel- i will make you forget your headand your rulesand your friendsand your faithwe are bricks on gas pedals.we are the ink on forged checks.i will make you mine and then forget you.my head is too crowded for the company.can we go back to how it was?before there was a world out the front door that got off on being down.stockpiled good fortune and am ready to wait out the storm.i want you in my after 12am veins.lately it all just feels like looking up through ice in a frozen pond at red cheeked families skating, carefree.to be honest, even though im nodding off in airport lounges-id rather lay my head on a curb somewhere with you than any of the rest of it.and the universe doesnt care about luck or headlines.someone whispered "make yourself" in my ear once.steal me away from all of this.make yourself.

12/03/06 Q&A

question

I was just wondering, how much profanity can be expected on the new album?

answer

not too much more than what you hear in “arms race”- though i have a mouth like a sialor. i tend to write in more hyper sexualized metaphors- nothing that would warrant a sticker or anything tho…

question

who you like better.. old pete or new pete?

answer

people always seem to be in a constant state of flux. noone stays the same forevr but the change never seems to happen overnight. old pete got grounded alot and stuff but to tell you the truth ive never cared too much for either. in all honesty.

question

pete, you guys owe the midwest big time you tottaly skipped us on the FOE tour…you arent playing a show in iowa or chicago… =[

answer

duh like wed ever space out on our hometown, like we dont have something super special planned just for you that is NOT part of the tour—- that goes for a couple of places we are “skipping”- have a bit of faith. we try not to let you down…

question

Push-up bras: in or out in 2006?

answer

im not wearing them anymore this year, so i guess no.

December 4, 2006

i want to fall in love with someone who can speak parseltongue.

- xo

December 8, 2006

minus : bill and teds excellent adventure was almost halfway done when i got home. and i wasted my night thinking of someone who will never understand me.minus/plus:i cut off my hair and jumped through a sheet of glass for our new video. plus: when napoleon eats the huge banana split in bill and teds: ziggy piggy ziggy piggy. i got an igloo dog house and fake snow for hem to play in. way more fun than whatever else i oculd have been doing. going to see panic tommorrow.

- xo

December 12, 2006

5:31am

i cant explain the feeling that has been exactly the same since the first moment you bobbed your head, had your spit shoot out of your mouth when singing along, or been crush on the railing on the front of the stage.everything else aside. the flashes, the numbers, everything- i hope i am judged and remembered only by how you have felt and sung along.it is a testament to who i wish i was and am always striving to become. because as much as we saved you- you have saved me.the shows feel the same. i was worried. but a smile or a wink reminds me that we are still part of the same machine that noone else understands.sorry if this is corny but these were the thoughts going through my head as i iced my back today after the show. if i fall apart, if we didnt sell a single record- this was still the best adventure story ever written. and i am endlessly grateful for that. ill now go back to being a douchebag.i think youre gonna like the new video.... let us know if youre hearing arms race on the radio by you.... just putting the final touhces on the record- yeah we know its like shopping for presents on xmas eve. but oh well. we dont want to let anyone down, not ourselves or you.xo.sleep fast, dream hard.ps i miss my dog.

- xo

Dec 14 2006 

02:26:00

dear you,

sometimes we get caught up in riding the moment, good or bad. mental health or our bodies. usually its never as bad as it seems in our own heads or in those seconds when it seems like noone else can empathize. but the truth is, as reluctant as we are to admit it- there are strains inside of us that make us exactly the same. together and alone all at once. crashing thoughts like chemistry. playing these club shows has been like heaven for me- its the closest i can get to being that little band again- and i love every minute of it. its exciting and crushing- pins and needles everywhere in anticipation. seeing the same old faces on the barricades but with new smiles. i have high hopes that you will come with us on this record if only because i feel like i/we owe it to you. i listen to the songs over and over again and hope that they hit you in that same spot but in a brand new way.

post video: my back will be okay,so will my hair (haha as okay as it ever was), i am in love with my band more than anything else on the planet. i hope you like the video.

i feel like a hack giving advice to you on the q & a when the truth is, i dont really have a clue to get through life on my own.i havent been able to sleep since we left on tour this week- my question to you- what do you do to fall asleep?

thanks for always being there. even when you probably shouldnt.

it puts me at ease knowing that someone else doesnt get it as much as i dont get it.

December 14, 2006

“be my unholy, my one and lonely. (the inside of my head, unfiltered).”

computer broke. back broke. love broke.

but the ship is gonna look pretty at the bottom of this sea.

my memory is a steel trap.

your face has been filed away- to be scrutinized later.

to be despised.

to be loved.

to be sought.

to be dreamt of.

i am the inside of "i dont care".

right in the middle.

staring at you.

i have you read before you even say your name.

except when im wrong

and my whole world tips on end.

"i loved everything about you that hurts".

everything i love about you is a mess- is the reason you cant get through your days.

i keep the tv on loud in hotel rooms so i dont feel alone.

i wear scarves and hoods cause theyre the only poker face ive got left.

in my head i smash mirrors and break palm readers' hands.

i love to write of sex and bodies pressed against eachother- but i am not a closer and never will be, i cant get my mind to shut off long enough to make moves. id rather remember the smell of your hair and the way you faked like you were too drunk to drive home.

id rather break you down.

i dread human contact but cant stand to sleep alone- two parts of me that are constantly at war with each other.

every single mirror is a trick mirror. not just the funhouse ones. we see what we want.

i wish i could live a billion years just to evolve beyond love.

only the science of that doesnt really add up, and besides i am addicted to it.

if you cut me open i am the single most regular person that has ever existed.

it scares me.

it electrifies me.

i have put my belief in god in a sort of holding pattern- i close my eyes hard and want to believe. just because this cant be it. but im not ready to commit. keep flying. one of these days were gonna run out of fuel.

the famous < the infamous.

i want to become better than i am.

i want cures instead of houses.

and hope instead of hype.

only its all so big that i dont even know where to start.

birth and death are just the bookends, no one explains how to find happiness in between.

my mood changes before i finish whole sentences. hence the fragments.

if anyone ever knew the whole truth im pretty sure they would lock me up and throw away the key.

i dont like to talk or play certain songs because they are just an unhappy blur in my life when somewhere inside of me i was sure id be dead before anyone ever heard them.

i wish jimminy cricket was my best friend.

i think hed keep me on track.

its no fun hating someone who hates themself so much more.

youre just an amateur.

you cant complain about your back and then jump off of high things.

well you can but then you just look silly.

my attention span, my temper, my faith and my height are all pretty much just short.

if i ever really had three wishes i am sure id waste them on ruining three peoples lives.

disappointing people is my thing baby, find a new gig, this town aint big enough for the two of us.

i have a love/hate relationship with being forgotten.

i fall asleep on the keyboard all the time, i think it is of some comfort to me.

i cant wait to meet the person i will want to grow old with.

posted by xo @ 12:29 AM

December 16, 2006

2:57am

Have heart, willing to travel.

- xo

December 16, 2006

come on just let me make out with one of your friends and we'll call it even

caged all the free spirits.lets make them shiny so we see them glisten on the ocean bottom.well take your flaws and polish them as good as new-that is except for jealousy, theres been a recall on that one.expect version 2.0turned the corners of my eyes out as though they were my pockets, as i pass by men sleeping in boxes looking for loose change.fix me or forget me. at this point im going for whichever is easier.im guessing i look like i just got off a bender cause everyone keeps saying "you really should get some rest".like that was the problem.it feels like a surgeon who cant cut himself open to save his own life.going AWOL from ghost towns.look into mirrors-"wipe that smile off your fucking face."my dreams are all backyards in the suburbs and you.and whatever happens in between just make sure our plots are matching and next to eachother.its kind of tough being a people pleaser when you arent too fond of people in general.on steroids for the back- no, not the cool kind. though one of the side effects is dementia.living out of a suitcase changes your outlook on the world.its hard to imagine a time when any of this made sense.a flight.fizz of tonic water.clicking of hotel room keys."ive never done this before"s.you need oxygen tanks to climb the mountains i have made of these molehills.keep me away from the inside of your head.

December 16, 2006

here's to fresh starts

Today was one of the longest ever for me.I have no explanation. Except that relief can come from the last place you'd ever expect.Sometimes the people you expect to be there are no shows. Especially when you're on the tile floor heaving.I am ready to be me again.I miss my puppy. I think you dreamt me alive.

December 18, 2006

love/hate

I am sur ei have been loved. I have obsessed over love. the kind of love of getting in and out of trouible. I have hoped for love that is beyond you beiung caught by me or me trying to slip through the cracks. I hope for a love that is like astronomers who desribe distant planets. Even as experts it is a too far off to even properly calculate no matter how much you adore it. And I am no expert. When was the last time you felt proud of me? Ask myself when was the last time I did anything worth your pride? When was the last time I was moved, not like a piece in a board game but truly moved. When was the last time I didn't see the world in an "you always stick your neck out" or "can't catch a break" kind of way. You are the kind they cut off ears for and start wars over. You are a distant planet, noone would get from afar. You are the dream that I can't remember but can't forget. You are the trap door magicians never reveal. You're my last trick. You're my grand finale.

December 18, 2006

“diamonds into coal.”

i am a terrible typer on a sidekick as proven in the previous post.

i hate hotel room life.

i hate doing interviews.

i hate reading interview i have done.

i am overdramatic.

i am overly pessimistic. i only see the worst in everything.

but i smile and nod along anyway.

i dont believe a word anyone says to me.

but id really like to believe in everything.

this list is boring. i miss my dog.

December 19, 2006

being in new york brings back strange memories of fall. i am really excited for everyone to see the new video tommorrow. though i am completely bummed out to see people selling tickets for ridiculous amounts of money for the friends or enemies tour. the whole point of this tour was for us to play some small rooms with our dedicated fans. i dont really think there is anything we can do legally about people who are taking advantage of this. the only thing i can think of is that we will go around venues before the show and try to give out a few tickets for free (i doubt we will have many extra as most have sold out). dont feed into this. we will keep playing smaller shows and secret ones- as well as a bigger spring tour. i promise you will get a chance to see us. we are going to go everywhere. please dont let these vultures get you down.

- xo

December 20, 2006

to only you:there was this girl- a doll. hanging and dancing on strings. black hair and smiling. she lived just off of a town called naivety... some place i have driven through from time to time. and i never had an idea. cut the strings so we could run down the street under trees and roll in the grass. never meant for it to become what it did in so many different ways. never meant to always leave the driveway headed one direction and never knew what waited when i returned. only that her eyes were the lights in the windows that i pulled up to in the snow. slipping off the ends of icy roads at nights racing home through the night no matter what. and the miles got father and farther in between. and i couldnt ever figure myself out to save a thing. but now i cut those strings and she is forever dancing or lying or waiting in the lit windows for vans and buses that came less and less. and i wrote the harshest words and she wrote the harshest words. she turned from a doll into a girl and i from a boy into a monster and back into a boy now and again. eyes always red and puffy. pride always on the line. things were much simpler when she was on strings for her i think. things were much simpler when the van only went so far. before i had to press a picture of her and paste it on dashes and inside of bunks everywhere. i cant explain how i got here. it doesnt make any sense. she could follow the articles and videos or my pieced together stories. or a dog. or a dream. or words that make half sense sent in the middle of the night. and even when im telling the truth it doesnt matter cause the phone is always dead. and i am always 30,000 feet in the air flying somewhere. but i keep the warmest memories close to my heart even when im at payphones and want to cut my insides out,, dry them up and mail them to her. "im sorry" doesnt matter anymore. the words have no meaning. im sorry i cut the strings and ran away. now when i come to look for her i dont know where to begin. its hard to not say "its all my fault" but it goes through my head over and over so i cant sleep with out the AMBIENce of my bed and the puppy. bane songs. boomerangs. badnews. arkansas. goodbye love i didnt know you well or maybe too well.

- xo

December 24, 2006

they say this thing between us is getting old, but i think of it more like vintage love.

im like one of those movies you buy in a hotel with every button but rewind.have at it.your jokes.your ring tones.it doesnt matter.i cant ever get the right words to the right people.lying on the side, tears fall from your left eye into your right.filling it and spilling over. and so on.spilling out. but not pretty like in the movies.phones are always dead.white lights hanging on houses, breath in the air-everything about right now reminds me that i am all alone.and how terrible i am because of the thoughts that run through my head.like im pretty sure i could get some sleep if you were dead and gone.but not in a "drop dead" kind of way, more like you couldnt fuck with my head anymore.a snow day on giving a fuck about anything.sit here and stare at the television because thats what im supposed to do.forget to eat.sit in the roped off corner of a club because thats what im supposed to do.forget to care.and i just want to write a story or a song that makes everyone forget their troubles but im not too sure that i have it in me.hot spots become luke warm.i just want one person to know me completely before i die.i want maternity wards on stage for the delivery.spent the afternoon in an mri- its like preparation for lying in a coffin forever. it was a fear i havent experienced since i was young. the shaking and the sounds and the closeness of it all. everyone loves an underdog. every dog will have its day. top dogs. all dogs go to heaven and such....

December 25, 2006

he said "i brought the hoody back all them other boys dont know how to act"

when i was little i wanted to be max from where the wild things are when i grew up.kind of bonkers, cause he was just a kid too.

12/25/06 Q&A

question

is it true you and andy had a fight? and now fall out boy is breaking up?

answer

nope. not breaking up anytime soon. contrary to whatever stupid things have come out of any of our mouths near journalists. we are currently doing better than brad and angelina- no break up in sight.

12/28/06

question

dear pete i hope you liked your christmas i know i did i got the clandestine bag i wanted and tickets to the red hot chili peppers concert i just wanted to say i look up to you because you let me down every time i needed help i asked you because i didnt know who to turn to my older brother being the jerk he is never helped me in any way and you never answered any questions with any substance anyways i dont know how many times i posted my questions but i digress i learned that you cant depend on the people you look up to, to help you out with advice i learned to help myself out and just face my problems and if i make a wrong turn well ill learn from that too so i just wanted to thank you for making me that much more independent i still love fall out boy sooo much too much in fact or so ive been told im not just another fan that listens to you guys and asks you stupid questions i am a fan that loves your music and i know not to depend on you for advice cause you cant help me i can only help myself sorry if im dragging on but im trying to get my point across im not sure if you will ever read this one im pretty sure you wont and im okay with that cause that will prove my point ill give you three trys to answer cause i dont know how your answering process works three cheers for questions with no substance -sincerely me *strike two*

answer

glad you had a good christmas. as far as answering questions- i miss alot of them- either do to timing or that i didnt feel capable of answering or whatever. usually i answer whatever sticks out to me. sometimes goofy ones, sometimes serious ones. we as a band try to be role models the best that we can. im sorry that you felt let down. its great to be independent and i think its awesome that this question wasnt a “fuck you i hate your band cause you didnt answer my question”… it sucks to feel skipped over i know that. im glad that it sounds like youre doing well. hope your family situation has gotten better.

question

i was watching release the bats and was wondering if your parents had seen it and what they thought of it. i was oddly fascinated yet disgusted. nice job

answer

i think my mom thinks its funny. my brother and me have been doing stuff like that since we were little- so its not too shocking.

question

Since your famous to some people. Would you ever like Wierd Al to make a song about you and the rest of the band? If so, what do you think he would sing about you and the band?

answer

we grew up on weird al. we’d love the honor of being mocked in a song of his- i think maybe “where is your beer tonight? i hope it is a heineken”

[gleefullypolin]

It really is such a long time to decide that this is what you'd like to see but there's the thing of it when you lose all flexibility in being open to what you're actually going to see, it's going to make you miserable and feel like it's bad writing when it's just writing that isn't yours.

I didn't know they ended up together either but thought they were adorable too. I actually don't remember how I found out they end up together, tbh. Maybe a random comment about them having their season? It got me to look into the books and then start reading them. And I'm with you, thank god it's a canon ship, I would have been so irritated otherwise, hah.

He's come back more flirty each time so I have no doubts he was learning how to do all of that while gone. There's no way he got burned by Marina then set off to travel without his brother's words in his head about it. Even if he was trying to prove something to himself, he would have discovered that sex and love are easily separated when one has the motivation to do so. It looks like they're finally trying to add some of Colin's book character to the show version and I think some people maybe don't get that he is not looking for love when he falls in love with Penelope, it quite literally just comes up behind him and smacks him upside the head without his permission so the idea of him saving himself in that way isn't something I've seen him ever profess in the show anyhow.

I have no idea how I got myself on the Debling hate train, it just happened.😭 Maybe it's because I don't get the vibes passing the test when it comes to Penelope? Not because I think he's evil but I just think she's not into it? He does give her something I think she needs outside of herself and Colin and that's okay but also get away from girl I am going to need you to back up, sir.

Our little compulsive liar! I agree though, she really needs to grow up and let both sides of her come together. Even Pen being in love with Colin is sort of her just loving in his direction? She's not being true to herself a lot of the time with him because she doesn't want to rock the boat but the boat (carriage) needs rocked if it's going to go anywhere. Truly the only thing I think I want to see is him learning about LW before anything major between them happens. I get why they might not for drama but that feels too close to the Marina situation. Maybe they could make it work but I think it needs to come out first for sure.

The man is so obsessed with her, I love it. He goes from 0 to 100 so quick and I do love that in a man, haha.

Oh my god the shippers of Neal and Emma's were insanely intense. They would, from what I remember reading when it was going on, just randomly make stuff up about Hook and then treat it like it was fact from then on even when offered proof it was nonsense. As insufferable as he was for sure. Good on you for killing him off in your fics.

Phillip in the books is truly my favorite after Colin. I hope Eloise's season gives him some of his book personality, he's so complex but also so into Eloise, it's great.

Same! I think how he learns it is the thing I'm most interested in so far. I think it's entirely possible Eloise could slip, not on purpose because I don't think she wants to hurt Penelope but with Colin being so intent on finding LW, it's possible she says something accidentally. Or if he sees her and follows. I kind of want her to yell it at him while they're fighting, ha. I want that anger to turn to passion and go from there.

For real, theorizing should be fun, not a competition. It's not that serious.😄

This is why we need to live in fan fiction and just let our minds drift in and out of different ideas, so we don’t get stuck in one place for too long. It’s the only way to survive the long expanse between seasons. And people forget that the show is not written by them. So, we have to be ok with what we get and if we aren’t pick up the pen to write our own ending.

I don’t know if it makes me a simpleton that I usually just end up following the story and picking canon ships…maybe I just don’t stray too far from a tale. I get too swept up in things normally to have time to do so. I don’t blame those that don’t, they just have better imaginations than me.

Colin is a flirt; he has flirted with Pen more than once. I mean you can’t tell me “What a barb” was not a flirt. And don’t get me started on the way he was staring at her when she was talking about her purpose, you would have thought he was staring at his next biscuit. His brain may not realize it but his body has been teasing her for years. I think you are correct; he is not looking for love, it hits him upside the head suddenly and without any permission that he gave it. He assumes he is only offering assistance and the next he's trying to consume everything about her, including her time, attention, focus.

I did read that the picnic scene is Colin coming to her rescue and my God I almost died on the spot. I assumed that is what it was but holy moly, hero Colin saving Pen while Lord Tater Tot gets to hold her. He will be beside himself. All I saw was red…Get your hands off our girl! I’m stepping into the Debling hate ring with you!!

I love it when women accept who they are, the good, the bad and the ugly. It’s not easy to accept all of you. And honestly Pen has some real soul searching to do because she doesn’t write nice things about herself either, so she’s got some stuff to work out there! I would LOVE for her to show the Pen that she’s been showing in all these promos…because that Pen could go a few rounds with Colin! Tell him how it is and how she feels, and I am here for that! That Pen can match Colin in that carriage! 0 to 100 for sure!

The stuff they made up about the toxicity of Hook. When in fact there was never a better story of redemption written for one person than Killian Jones. Like they killed that thing. It was beautiful. I could kiss that man. The only complaint I had was they should have ended it a season earlier. As much as I loved Officer Jones…It was not the same show or my Hook! But ship wars are notorious for making up absolute toxic shit from nothing.

Nothing about this show should be serious. IT’S A ROMANCE NOVEL TURNED INTO A TELEVISION SHOW ON NETFLIX! Our live wont end without it! But I’ll be really unhappy if it’s not May 16th soon!

[tonyhightower]

Morning.

Okay, I was joking before about being stir crazy, but it's not really a joke anymore.

This week, my son Felix turned three.

I'm sick as a dog. I can barely speak.

I'm exhausted, I'm burned out, I'm tired, I'm tired. I'm tired.

I'm stuck in Paris. (Stuck? In Paris? How can you even?) I haven't seen Paris yet, barely at all.

Right now, Paris is just a place I've managed to hurry through a couple of times to get some stuff from IKEA or the boulangerie, and then hobble home on my still-unhealed knee, because we gotta get dinner in, or Felix is edging towards a meltdown and we just need to get him to a place where that can happen more safely and less publicly, and then get him to calm the hell down and, for lack of a better term, go the fuck to sleep.

I don't have any money. We have two credit cards, both in my wife's name. It's okay, I have nothing to buy anyway.

I have nothing to offer. I'm taking up space. I'm Jo's second child. I fucking hate this part. I need her permission to do pretty much anything. This isn't what either of us signed up for.

I'm not doing French lessons. I'm barely keeping a Youtube channel afloat. I've put out a video every Tuesday, until this week. I have a script, It's shot (poorly, but it's at least ready), but this is Winter Vacation Week for X, and it's also his birthday week, so we planned our first party (which is code for: emailing every parent in town we know and begging them to come over, drink our wine, and be our friends).

And then X's Grandos are here for a few days to see our place, which is great on its face, but they're not here to babysit while J & I get our shit together. X is home for two weeks, and there's no respite.

I love my kid truly and forever. I love him so much that I'm sacrificing the one thing that's making myself sane, because it's more important, on a minute-to-minute basis, to make sure he's okay.

I was told that would start to happen less and less as he becomes a little more independent. Like, I'm looking forward to the last day I ever have to wipe his ass. We're not there, but that day is now on the horizon, which is a thought that brings me indescribable joy.

I'm off my meds. No more ADHD meds of any kind until I get my Carte Vitale. (Our Titre de Séjour is on its way.) Could be weeks. Could be months. So, as a substitute: coffee. Lots & lots of coffee. Morning, noon, night. Worrying about cortisol & anxiety is, to paraphrase Leona Helmsley on Paying Taxes, is for the little people. I have a kid I really want to raise properly.

I've spent the last six weeks literally unable to walk, unable to buy even the most basic of things for the house, unable to put any more art up on the walls, unable to dance or pick up or even sit down with my child to read a book. He has to come to the couch, like I’m 90.

It's his birthday today. He calls me "Broken Racecar." My heart breaks a little every time he says it.

Jo is doing so much around the house, at a time when she needs to be writing. That's her job. It's literally why we're here. It's why this is all happening. It's why I'm staring out the window at a city I really want to start falling in love with, that I really want to write about & take pictures of & interact with.

I'm stuck in the exit lounge. I'm standing on the banks of the Styx, waving a ticket at a boat that isn't in dock.

Get help. Yeah, I know. I know. Except ... English is not the LIngua Franca of this place (uh, Franca is), which means I can't just walk into a place and get either (a) the drugs I need, or (b) something more shrink-adjacent. (I truly don't think I have a genuine psychological issue at the moment; it's more just the isolation and the fact that my go-to fixes for what ails me are things I don't currently have access to for one reason or another. If I was running, I'd be fine. If I had a workspace and the time to actually make videos & write screenplays, I'd be better. If I was able to actually get out into Paris and, y'know, enjoy the city that we've all worked so hard to become a part of, and get involved in the new world we've crossed an ocean to but up against, then fuck yeah go me.)

But kvetching about this stuff in the hour every morning before my sick three-year-old wakes up is not a useful way to spend my time. I need to be cramming in a French lesson or CREATING TEH CONTENT or whatever. So, Ima get on that.

Fun stuff to come. Promise.

[quillsandtypos]

The Edge in Revenge

Words: 3k

Warnings: smut, degradation, female oral receiving, sexual edging, and underage drinking mentioned (NO SEASON 2 SPOILERS, I just started watching season one but I needed to get this out of my head)

Pairings: JJ Maybanks x fem!reader

...........................................

JJ really shouldn’t have been the one to underestimate what you were capable of doing in the name of revenge. He’d been fucking with you all day. It had started that morning, you were alone in his kitchen as the other Pogue’s were still asleep. He had you pinned up against the wall lightly sucking on the side of your neck. As he trailed down to your collarbone he suddenly pulled away. You furrowed your brows at him but he just winked and smirked before he walked away; leaving you wet and confused.

Then later after lunch he managed to get you alone before you and the other pogue’s went out on the water. You were still inside grabbing the cooler, as everyone else was already on the boat. He snuck up behind you unbeknownst to you. You felt his hot breath on his ear. “You need help with that princess?” he asked cockily. You felt his warm cock press against the back of your ass, and his hand was at the small of your back.

“Oh definitely,” you responded eagerly. You turned to him as he easily pulled you in with one arm around your back, and the other at the back of your neck. Your lips interlocked, and you hungrily kissed him back, almost begging for more. But just as the time before, he quickly pulled back. Grabbing the cooler from behind you and heading out the door. With a ‘thanks!’ and a barely contained giggle. Oh he was a dead man, you decided right then that revenge was most definitely an order.

So you came up with the perfect scheme. If he wanted to play that game, then he would quickly learn who he was quite literally playing with.

“Ki,” you said. You quickly pulled her away from the boys. “I need a favor, I need you to get JB and Pope away from JJ.”

“Do I even want to know?” she laughed.

“It’s in the name of revenge,” you offered hopefully. She let out a long fake sigh.

“Hmm, let me think,” she took a long pause.

She cracked a smile. “I’m just kidding, you should’ve started with the revenge part.”

“Yes! Thank you,” you said, hugging her tightly.

“Come on JB, we’re gonna go help Pope with whatever he’s doing in the kitchen,” she said, pulling him along.

“What? Oh, okay,” John agreed confusedly as he awkwardly followed her.

And so then there were two. You casually flopped yourself down on JJ’s lap, who seemed slightly startled at first, but then just wrapped his arms around your waist. As much as it was a sweet gesture, you didn’t sit there to be sweet, so you needed to ruin the moment. Lightly, you rolled your hips back so you went right across his dick, and then rolled forward, making sure to move slowly but applying a small amount of your body weight as pressure. You weren’t certain he was giving you a look that could kill, but you didn’t bother looking. But what you did do was speed up a little bit until you felt his dick grow hard.

Smiling a smug grin you moved to get off of him. But his arms helds you there. He swiftly pulled you down onto his chest so your right ear was directly next to his mouth. “When we are alone next, I’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming,” he whispered lowly.

You adjusted your head so you could see his face. “As if you could ever have that effect on me,” you smirked.

“Care to up the stakes then? Or are you too chicken?” His eyes gleamed, and at the same time so did your’s.

“Name your price,” you said confidently.

“If I can get you to beg, then you owe me a six pack of beers.”

“That’s it?” you asked, surprised.

He raised his eyebrows, “Fine, a six pack of beers, and you have to go skinny dipping with me next Friday night.”

“But I have to work next Friday,” you suddenly remembered.

“What? Not feelin so cocky now princess? Afraid you’ll lose?” he taunted.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Of course not. So what do I get if I can make you beg?” You poked him in the chest for emphasis.

“Alright, if you win, then you get me as your personal boat driver, or person who gets you things, or whatever,” he offered.

“You sure that’s quite a high bargain JJ?” you now taunted back.

“Yeah, I’m not worried,” he replied cockily. He offered you his hand to shake and you took it.

“Prepare to be my personal maid,” you said.

“You better prepare to beg,” he countered.

You moved off of him just as your friends came out of the kitchen. “You guys wanna come with, we’re going for a night swim?” Johnny B offered.

“Nah, we might be out later though,” JJ answered before you could.

“Suit yourselves,” Pope shrugged. Kiera sent you a wink before also heading out the door with them.

JJ and you practically booked it to his room as soon as they shut the door. You quickly grabbed a condom from his drawer where you knew them to be by memory. You turned to throw him the condom to see that he was already on his bed with his shirt off. Every piece of your body was drawn to his chest and the way his back muscles looked in the low light, but you weren’t going to let him know that. So you deflected.

“Someone’s eager,” you commented.

“I-” JJ started to defend himself but the comment got stuck in his throat as he watched your movements. You began slipping your shirt off to reveal a black bra that was sheer, and lacy around the straps and underwire area. It pushed your boobs up nicely and accentuated your cleavage perfectly. JJ was a mess.

“This is so not fair,” he groaned, his jaw practically on the floor.

You knew the effect the lingerie would have on him, which is exactly why you picked it. “What? You too chicken J?” you said, using his taunt from earlier.

Your words made him recover quickly. “No, of course not,” he scoffed.

“That's what I thought you’d say,” you smirked. Now you let your jean shorts fall to the floor, so you were able to show your black thong, which was not as fancy looking, but you knew it would practically make JJ lose it.

You were right, he looked like you had placed him under a spell. When he finally snapped out of it, he pointed next to him. “Bed princess. Now.”

He was almost making this too easy. “I don’t know about that. How about please?”

JJ nearly opened his mouth, but quickly caught himself before he could say anything. “Fine, I’ll do it myself,” he smirked. He moved off the bed, to grab you. You tried to avoid his hands, but there wasn’t much room to run around, so he easily caught you. He threw you onto his bed, and you let out a small yelp of surprise. Before you could even think about running off again, he jumped on the bed, flipped you onto your back, and pinned you. His knees were on your hands, effectively keeping you from touching him.

“Are you going to be a good slut and scream for me?” he asked. His face a few inches from yours.

“Not a chance J,” you smiled.

“Have it your way then, but either way, you’ll still be moaning my name.” His arms lowered so he could dip down to kiss a couple inches above your collarbone. His knees still held your hands in place. He sucked hard against your skin, making sure to leave marks.

“Wait, no marks JJ,” you told him.

“Should’ve told me that sooner now everyone’s gonna know that you lost a bet,” he teased.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed.

JJ didn’t have a comment on that, but went back to work leaving you many bruises that you would have to cover the next morning. Oh how you wished your hands could be in his hair at the moment. He made an agonizingly slow trail down to your bra, before removing it and throwing it onto the floor of his room. He then started sucking on one of your breasts letting his lower lip just gently brush against your nipple everytime he sucked above it. He had found out about the spot driving you crazy the first time you had sex, and now you were strongly wishing you had never told him.

You had your mouth clenched rather tightly so that no moans would escape your lips. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend noticed that.

“Come on y/n, just let it out. You know that no one can make you cum like I do,” he taunted.

Luckily, his temporary break gave you a chance to get control of yourself again. “Fuck off,” you retorted.

“Yeah, that was kinda the plan.” He grinned devilishly.

He must’ve realized that he was not going to get you to break by doing that, and instead moved farther down to pull your panties off.

His head ducked down to your pussy, but he made eye contact just as he did so. “You still feeling cocky?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Alright, then let’s see how long that lasts since you’re such a slut for me,” he said with a wink before ducking his head fully down. He sucked another hickey on the inside of your thigh, and he slowly started licking towards your pussy. You could practically feel his tongue against your clit, but he was taking his sweet time.

“Stop teasing,” you finally groaned out.

“Is that begging I hear?” he questioned.

“No, I’m telling,” you said matter of factly.

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed with a chuckle.

His tongue slowly started lapping across your folds, occasionally flicking along your clit. Oh god you were in heaven, but simultaneously in hell because you couldn’t make a peep. His tongue once again licked across your spot, and you had to slap your hands over your mouth to keep a moan from escaping your lips. You could feel the smirk on his lips, but you weren’t going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much he was affecting you.

A few whimpers nearly came out of your body, and your hands were nearly shaking from trying to hold it in. But all of a sudden you realized that letting it out may be to your advantage, hearing your noises of pleasure, always had quite the effect on him.

So you did. Every moan, and whimper you let him hear. He thought that he was getting to you, which truthfully he was, but the game was far from over.

“You’re eating me out so good,” you moaned.

Your plan was already working; you noticed that he started to pick up the pace.

“Oh god JJ!” you screamed as he licked over a good spot on your pussy.

He continued licking in that exact spot which almost made you want to give up the bet right then in there. You felt shivers go through your spine as your core started to heat up but you were too stubborn to lose yet.

“No one fucks me like you do,” you moaned, knowing damn well the effect it would have on him.

Your plan seemed to have worked as he quickly took off his shorts, put on the condom, and just as his cock was about to enter you, you stopped him.

“Beg,” you insisted.

“Y/n fucking pl-” You had nearly had him, but he managed to stop himself before the words tumbled out.

You smirked, as he finally realized what you were doing. He however was now hell bent on making you lose. JJ climbed back on top of you with new vigor. “You’re smart, which is exactly why breaking you will be so much more fun,” he taunted. His head went back down again.

Your hands entangled in his hair as he went back to licking every single nook and cranny that he could find. “Fuck,” you whimpered as he once again licked your even more sensitive clit. You could feel the tension burning in your core, and a tingling sensation starting to spread all over. You started to buck your hips from the stimulation, and JJ was quick to force you back down. As his flicking became more rapid, you felt your body start to tense up.

“JJ I’m gonna-” you had started, but suddenly he had stopped.

“Beg,” he told you. And as much as you wanted to give in you were determined to knock the cocky grin off his face.

You sat up on your elbows. “Make me.”

JJ looked delighted by your answer. “That’s fine I got all night.”

“Inside me JJ,” you told him. You knew he wanted to make you beg for that as well, but you knew that he wanted to be inside you more.

He thrusted his cock into you and you did your best not to slide backwards from him pushing into you. “Oh my god you’re so wet for me, you really have been waiting.”

After he had checked on you he began slowly thrusting into you, going deep into you. “Oh shit,” he moaned. He would have to explain a lot of scratches across his back tomorrow but quite frankly you didn’t care.

“JJ!” you half moaned, half screamed as he went down again.

“You’re such a dirty slut for me aren’t you?” he taunted you.

You wanted to have some sort of retort but all that came out of your mouth was another moan, which just egged him on more.

“Come on, I know you’re tempted.”

Truthfully, you were extremely tempted, but you could surely outlast him right? But then you had an idea, he couldn’t stop it if he didn’t know what was coming. So as you felt your body starting to be strung out again you did you best to keep your breathing the same, and to not move around as much. But just as you felt the tension building he stopped.

“JJ?” you groaned in confusion.

“You seriously don’t think I don’t know when you’re going to have an orgasm?” he laughed. He pushed his hair out of his face and grinned down at you.

“Y/n you might as well just give up now, and spare yourself,” he suggested.

Collecting what small amount of strength you had left you said “Not a chance.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he smirked.

The warning was evidently very necessary, your whole body was starting to feel ten times more sensitive than it usually did. Every thrust sent a wave of pleasant goosebumps through your body. Your legs were shaking, and your voice was admittedly starting to go away. Your body felt like it was screaming that it wanted to orgasm. He started to slow down, but you were so close. You attempted to buck your hips into his to get the feeling back but he held you down. With a satisfactory grin on his face, that you needed it so bad.

“You’re not getting an orgasm unless you beg and we both know that I could fuck you for hours,” he taunted.

“Fine, fine, fine, please, please, please let me cum J, please. I am begging you,” you whined.

“That’s all you had to say princess,” he smirked. Finally his pace picked back up, to a more rapid one.

“Fuck you feel so good,” you moaned to him. There was no point keeping it in now. Your hips bucked in rhythm with his, as he moved in and out. But his rhythm slowed down as what you recognized as his climax.

“Oh god,” you heard him say as it finally hit him. His moans of pleasure only sped up your’s. “Fuck,” he moaned on top of you. But he managed to push himself back up to go down into you a couple more times for you to reach your climax.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire with tingles. The feeling spread from your stomach to your breasts to throughout your whole body. Your legs began to shake and you couldn't form words anymore. The only coherent thought you could form was how good you felt. Even after you had reached your climax, you had a sense of euphoria that you just couldn’t shake.

Eventually, you felt JJ start to move out of you, and you both whimpered slightly from how sensitive you were. You saw him take the condom off and throw it away. You lay in bed, still breathing heavily.

“Give me your hand, we’re going to the bathroom,” he said sweetly, but insistently. You groaned but you didn’t protest.

After you had used the toilet, you both flopped back down in his bed. It was quiet for a couple minutes before JJ spoke up.

“You know I’m really excited to see what beers you get me,” he teased.

“Shut up,” you laughed, lightly smacking him in the arm.

He lightly smacked you back. “Oh and don’t forget to call off for Friday tomorrow morning,” he grinned.

“I hate you,” you said as you rolled over.

“I love you,” he said sweetly, as he wrapped his arms around your midsection.

He always had a way of making you happy. “Love you too J,”

“Goodnight princess,” he said as he kissed your cheek.

“Goodnight JJ.” And you quickly fell fast asleep in his arms.

Needless to say, the other pogue’s weren’t worried that you never came outside. They knew where they would find the two of you the next morning.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: D&D Part 4

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Alien: You find yourself in a strange city full of people. Human *Playing human thief*: That sounds nice. Alien: Many of them have strong distaste for non-humans and view your party with hatred. Human 2 *Playing a dwarf* Welp, time to burn this place to the ground. Alien: Wait, what? Alien: You all agree to this? Human: I mean, if they’re assholes they’re assholes. Human 3 *Playing a Gnome* I will get the tortches. Alien: Are you not going to stop them? You are human! Human *Playing human thief*: All I see is loot waiting to be taken. ----------------

Alien: You finally board the boat across the sea of tears. Human: Excellent! Human: I wish to summon the kraken. Human 2: WTF? Alien 2: Why would you do that? Human: I learned this spell three weeks ago and we have been stuck in a desert for the last three weeks. Human: Either I summon it now or the next time you have a cup of water! --------------------------------

Alien: You find yourself in a rundown town- Human: Why is it rundown? Alien: Because…because of all the criminals robbing everyone. Alien: Now, as you look towards the town square- Human 2: Why are they robbing them? Are they rich? Alien: What? No, they are all poor. Human 3: If they are poor what is there to be stolen off them? Alien: They also do it because they are evil. Alien: As I was saying- Human: I kinda want to find these evil criminals and murder them. Alien: But that’s not your adventure… Human 2: I bet the town’s people will be thankful. Alien: But- Human 3: Murder time!!!! Alien: *Mind breaking as the campaign which had taken three days to plan falls apart before it even begun* -------------

Alien: If you are a true paladin how do you justify murdering that defenseless man. Human: He committed murder and was therefore not innocent. Alien: He didn’t murder anyone. Human: I saw him earlier step on a defenseless ant bringing food home to his colony. Alien: An you considered that an act of evil? Human: How many ants now will starve because of that evil man’s actions? Alien: By the gods you are weird. -------------------------

Alien: A changeling and a mimic walk into a bar… Human: And I walk out of it. ------------------------

Alien: You have summoned an eldritch being of immense power to bargain with. Alien: It asks you what your desire is. Human: I wish to learn Fireball. Alien: …..Are you sure? Alien: Is that not a low level spell? Human: I have not had the best of time lately. Human: I have been struck by the deadliest of curses. Alien: What? I don’t remember you getting any curses? Alien: What’s it name? Human: The curse of Bad Roll. ---------------------

Alien: By what rite do you have to challenge the king? Human: *Loudly* The Rite of bullshit!!! ----------------------

Human: I attempt to befriend the slime. Alien: It has already killed half your party. Human: I think I still got a good chance. ----------------------

Alien: Impossible! Alien: How did they see through my disguise!? Human: You impersonated a dwarf. Alien: It was perfect! Human: Your beard was groomed when it should have been untamed. Alien: That’s it?! Human: You are also a fresh undead and you have portions of your face falling off, but surprisingly they were more concerned about the beard bit. -----------------------

Alien: Can I punch the dragoborn? Human: That depends? Alien: On what? Human: On how much you want to keep that hand. -------------------------- Alien: You are suddenly attacked by a werewolf! Human *Monk*: I punch it with my fists! Alien: You lack any silver weapons to deal real damage. Human *Monk*: That is why for the last three days I have been injecting silver into my bloodstream! Alien: That’s not how it works. Human *Monk*: It’s not? Alien: You have just been dealing yourself damage over time and now are almost dead. Human *Monk*: But the thief said….wait. *turns to thief* Human *Monk*: Was this all just an elaborate plan to smuggle your stolen silver out of town? Human *Thief*: I can neither confirm nor deny this statement. -----------------------

Alien *Wizard*: It’s too dark outside, I cast fireball. Human: Are you sure you want to do that? Alien *Wizard*: I am. *Rolls and passes* Human: You cast fireball in the dark woods and while it does light your path ahead it also causes the nearby brittle trees to catch fire. Alien *Wizard*: How bad are the flames? Human: California just issued a state wide fire advisory. -------------------------

[sohin-ace]

Bucciarati - My little Seastar

Sister reader. Enjoy~

"Hey, Bucciarati! Can you help me for a sec?"

You turned towards the direction of the voice calling you and stopped in your tracks on the wooden docks.

"What do you want, Valentino?" You spat, a bit more harshly than intended.

The smug boy who was crouched on his zodiac chuckled at you. "Aw, come on, Bucciarati! Don't be like that. I just need some help to tie the rope. Your dad is a fisherman, right? You should know knots like no one else!"

Even though he had said this as a way to woo you and flatter you somehow, you couldn't help but hear it as a condescending remark. You crossed your arms over your chest and he pouted at the glare you sent him.

"Pretty please~? No funny business, I swear! Look, the guys aren't even here, I'm all alone. You can trust me!"

That's right. Valentino and his little gang took great pleasure in teasing you and bothering you at every corner and it pissed you off. No matter how much you insulted them, ignored them or avoided them, they never seemed to stop their stupid and useless bullying.

But sadly, oh so sadly, the Bucciarati that you were was kind. Too kind. You despised that you were so gentle-hearted, but in the end, this is how your father and brother had raised you.

You huffed and slumped your arms loose along your body, defeated. "Fine!" You dragged your sandals over the dock and approached him. "It better be quick."

The boy beamed as you embarked on the zodiac next to him, "Sure thing! Thanks a lot, girl. I'll make it up to you!"

He gave you the ropes as you crouched down at his place and got to work. But without you noticing, the boy had swiftly slid his leg over the vehicle and easily jumped back into the dock, leaving you behind.

Before you could even turn around and ask where he was going, the brat, now accompanied by all three of his little buddies that appeared out of their hiding spot, all kicked the zodiac off of the dock before you could even tie it.

"Waah-!"

You lost balance at the violent jerk of the boat and yelped, letting go of the ropes that could have saved you from your demise.

You couldn't even get back to your knees and try desperately to grab onto the dock's wooden planks. You heard the boys snickering and laughing at you as you drifted farther and farther away from the land into the water.

"I fucking knew it you disgusting piece of TRASH!" You yelled at them, angry with them obviously, but also angry with yourself for granting that bastard the benefit of the doubt. "You know damn well I can't swim!"

They all seemed to laugh even louder, obnoxiously. "Too bad for you Bucciarati! Maybe you shouldn't be so stupid next time! BWAHAHAHA!"

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE VALENTINO! SCREW YOU!"

Your curses and wails seem to fall into deaf ears as you drifted even farther away from the coast, with no way of even paddling back.

Looking around towards the much bigger boats parked along the docks, you could only hope 'he' would hear you.

"PAPA!! PAPAAA!!!" You called desperately. Surely he would hear you, he wasn't far after all, you did come all the way here to bring him his lunch. He must still be somewhere around the fishing boats.

After a few more vain attempts to call for your father, you settled to accept that he wouldn't hear you, nor would the other fishermen that were already far gone from their boats to bring their catches to land.

You sat on the damp zodiac and brought your knees to your chest, not even caring if your sundress slid down your thighs indecently and got stained by the salty water. Stupid Valentino couldn't even keep his tiny boat clean.

"Stupid, stupid..." Your voice cracked, threatening to break into a sob. "If he was a sailor he'd be dead before even sailing. That's how stupid this stupid boy is. Stupid."

With only your expletives to reassure you in your demise, you buried half of your face in your arms now craddling your cold knees.

Everything was so silent, the sea did a great job at muting every sound around the coast and you felt the loneliest and most scared you had ever been since you were a child.

You thought nobody would find you, and you'd be dead drowning because you could never learn to swim and since nobody even noticed your absence in minutes that felt like hours, nobody would cry for you if you died here either.

And so the stinging tears prickled at your eyes.

"Y/N?" You heard a familiar voice calling your name, but brushed it off as the wind. "Y/N is that you?"

You looked up towards the insistant voice in a sliver of hope and, like an angel fallen from heaven, you were met with the caring blue gaze of your big brother from the railings of one of the high boats right next to where you had drifted to.

"Bruno!" You gasped and got up immediately, almost falling over from the sudden sway of the boat under your weight. "A-ah! Bruno help me, I'm stuck!"

"Hold on!" The worried face of the male hesitated to leave you for even a split second. "I'm coming down. Don't move."

You nodded at his strict tone and waited for him as he disapeared. Your breath caught in your throat with stress, even though you were reassured to finally have a savior. And what a savior it was, your one and only big brother.

Barely a minute passed before you saw him come back and unravel an emergency ladder down to you. He made sure the ladder was all tight and secure and almost immediately after, Bruno jumped over the railing, to your grand fright, and started climbing down, your heart pounding with worry for him.

He finally arrived down and stepped into the zodiac, joining you, like a glorious hero, saving the day. You barely let him any time to react as you threw yourself into his chest and gripped viciously at the back of his shirt, scrunching it without care, scared to be alone at sea again.

Bruno wanted to scold you and yell at you for recklessly playing around all alone in the docks and ending yourself in such a dire situation. But when he felt you trembling and squeezing him like your life depended on it, which ironically it did, the elder couldn't help but sigh and wrap his long arms around your shoulders, a gesture of comfort.

"... What happened to you?"

"It's-" You choked a sob and Bruno tutted and shushed you softly, patting your head to calm you down, just like your mother used to do when you were a child.

"Shhh, it's okay bambina, I'm here now."

He felt you relax and you sniffled a few times before mumbling into his shirt. "It's Valentino! He tricked me! I hate him! He's such a coglione!"

"Hey! Language." He scolded and pinched your arm, earning a little 'ow' from you, "What would dad think if he heard you say such words? Bite your tongue, young lady."

"S-sorry..." You croaked a little ashamed of your outburst and lifted your head up at your brother. "They always do this to me... Valentino and the others... Why...? They know I can't swim and they throw me into the water all the time..."

Bruno let go of you to cup your face and wipe your tears off. He did not let it show to you but he was infuriated. There was only so much patience an Italian man could have when his family was being targeted. Especially his little sister and the only lasting woman of his life.

"Shh, stop crying now, mia stellina marina. I'll deal with them later, okay? Let's get you home for now."

"They'll see." You sniffled as your breath steadied, calmed by Bruno's soft tone, "When I'll marry a big, tall, goth policeman, he'll beat them up for me and then, they won't act so cocky anymore."

He huffed with amusement at your words before he let you go and laid a gentle hand on your back to usher you towards the ladder.  Bruno, still with a bit of confusion, mumbled to himself without you hearing it.

"... Why goth, though?"

Only now had you noticed the zodiac had stopped drifting since Bruno found you, held onto the much bigger boat by a phantom blue and white arm and a golden zipper that you'd recognize from a mile away.

"Can we... Can we let the zodiac in here?" You asked hesitantly towards your brother who paid no mind to it.

"Who cares? It's not ours."

With thoughts of Valentino's expensive motorboat getting lost in the sea, you slowly took ahold of the ladder's ropes and started climbing, Bruno keeping it steady for you until he was sure you embarked in safely.

He then joined you up and lent you a spare jacket that he thankfully thought of taking with him in the morning, covering you from the cold of your drenched dress against the littoral wind.

"Thank you Bruno..." You softly uttered and hugged his warm jacket closer around you, "I always cause you trouble..."

"Nonsense, piccolina. I could never live knowing my sister is crying, cold and afraid somewhere." He squeezed your shoulder against him as you approached the stall your father and his colleagues were filling with freshly caught fishes. "I'll make sure you're the one that never gets troubled again..."

Fortunately for you, the day ended much more peacefully than it had started and your father was happy and relieved to find you safe and uninjured. He had specifically instructed Bruno to not get involved or make a scene, but of course, his son was a stubborn mediterranean who could not let anything just slide.

It was not the first, not the second, nor even the third time this boy, 'Valentino' and his friends, had taken offense towards you.

So, Bruno would make sure the zodiac Valentino had worked oh-so-hard to afford, part-timing as a waiter, cleaning after people's messes, scrubing disgusting shit-stained lavatories and cutting his hands off of plastic and metal scraps scattered along the beaches for a few cents per day, got thoroughly anihilated to pieces.

"NOOOO!!!! MY ZODIAC !!!! MY 50 000€ BAAABYYYYYY!!! WHYYYYY???!!"

The very next day, as you walked along the docks to bring some fishing materials to your brother, you heard the painful wails of a very familiar boy kneeling down and crying on the woodplanks, his screams echoing against the shore.

"SHUT UP BRAT! You'll think about your money after you pay for the fines I'm about to give you. You think you can get away with polluting the water with your gross ass wreckage?" A tall and burly policeman wearing purple lipstick growled at the kneeling boy, no signs of mercy in his baritone voice. "You'll have a reason to cry when you pay for the oil you spilled in here. You're lucky I'm not throwing your ass in jail right now."

"Officer please-" Valentino pleaded miserably, but the policeman did not hold back on pushing all fives of the different citations he had owned by having pieces of his zodiac scattered all around the precious ressourceful ocean.

"You have two weeks to pay up and clean all that shit." The officer fixed his shades over his nose before turning around to leave. "And expect to receive a salty lawsuit soon. Fucking whiny bitchbaby..."

The policeman left with a determined and impatient step as you witnessed the entire scene with wide eyes, not noticing your brother approaching.

"Oh no... That's horrible..." You gasped with sympathy and worry, "I hope the fishes and corals won't get impacted by the oil spill..."

"Oh don't worry," Bruno chuckled, taking the heavy loads off your hands, "I made sure to zip that out of the water."

You blinked, confused.

"...What?"

"What...?"

That fic was inspired by the very first scene of H2O, I love that show so much, and I can't wait to post my mermaid fics in store!

[skellebonez]

Tumblr Messed Up Fill #5

Alright, I believe this is the FINAL accidentally posted fill! @winterpower98​ has such a great dynamic between Jin and Yin and the rest of the cast in the Cursed AU that I just love writing these two in any situation. I hope you enjoy this despite the wait!

When MK has been dragged out on an "emergency supply trip" with Jin and Yin he had almost expected he would need to step in to prevent them from doing anything illegal. They may technically be on their side now, but much like Macaque they weren't entirely removed from their villainous past.

What he had not expected was for the two of them announce that they not only intended to pay in cash, something most people didn't do not a days in favor of a single card or paying through their phone, but for them to attempt to give him a crash course in electronics every time he looked at a computer part with vague confusion.

On the bright side, he at least had didn't have to worry about them getting him banned from any of the local stores.

On the down side...

He looked at the massive pile of electronic bits the poor cashier was attempting to scan and bag for them in a timely manner. They had to, somehow, get all this stuff back to wherever they stored all of their equipment. MK was strong but the sheer amount of stuff would prove a problem simply by how much he would have to help carry. No wonder he'd been invited.

"Yin, toss me the wallet will ya?" Jin yelled once the cashier finally announced their total with a relieved sigh. A excessive amount that MK doubted could ever be paid for in cash alone.

Until Yin launched the wallet at Jin's head and it bounced off him and set a few bills flying in the process.

"OUCH, watch it! That's our profits you're throwing around!" Jin complained, grabbing a few bills that were still airborne with a sigh. "Just. I'll ask ya to hand it to me next time."

"Sorry..." Yin said, not really sounding all that sorry. The smirk and the fact he stuck out his tongue did not help.

Granted, Jin didn’t exactly seem genuinely upset at what happened either, judging by the smile on his face.

He probably wasn’t supposed to see it. That was probably why MK didn’t even know they had a wallet, they didn’t want anyone to see what they had in it.

But he was MK. The Monkie Kid. And his first instinct was to kneel down and pick up the wallet to give it back to Jin. The wallet that was sitting open with the inside facing up and bulging with bills and...

One of those folding picture things you would only see parents have of all their kids in comedy movies. It was folded up backwards, tucked into the wallet itself to keep it from unfolding and falling down, and only one picture was visible at the moment. One with a face he recognized very quickly. How could he not?

It was his face after all.

He recognized when it was taken too, pretty soon after the two had joined up with the group as Macaque’s... whatever they were to the reformed monkey demon. They’d been teasing him about if he had anyone he liked and Jin had just managed to make him laugh with some kind of joke.

He didn’t remember a picture being taken but one of them just have had a phone or camera to do so. He remembered their little conspiracy board from the first time they met, they were good at sneaking pictures of people... which, considering what he was holding in his hand right now, was kind of creepy when he thought about it for long enough.

He didn’t have the time to think about it for much longer though, as the wallet was yoinked out of his hand by an excited Jin, shouting a “thanks MK!” back at him when he pulled out the large bills to hand to the cashier.

He didn’t seem embarrassed or upset, in fact the only one who seemed to be out of the four of them was the cashier who had to check that they had enough chance before realizing they would only be getting a handful yuan back.

And then they were outside and making their way back to their workshop, presumably, MK with the bulk of the items but Jin and Yin taking their fair share of the electronic bits.

“Well that evened out nicer than expected,” Jin laughed, tucking their change into the wallet before snapping it closed with a victorious look on his face. “Just enough to grab us all one cheese tea each, if we all want some.”

“Could, uh... I ask you something first?” MK interrupted as they walked, the prospect of being treated to a drink for his work sounding pretty good actually.

“Yeah, go for it.”

“... why do you have a picture of me?” He asked wearily, just…still trying to take in the fact that apparently Jin and Yin shared a single wallet and they apparently just had pictures of everyone he knew in it.

Jin paused for a moment, looking at the wallet and then back to MK a few times before shrugging and shoving it back into his shirt, presumably the same kind of hidden pocket Yin had when he pulled it out. “I dunno? Guess I thought it was important or something, like if we needed to find you. Easy picture to show off if you go missing."

“Right…”

The trio didn’t even get to lapse into silence as they walked, the twins quickly finding some topic of conversation that completely flew over MK’s head regarding computing power and ram drives.

The cheese tea was good though.

~

Jin looked between his younger twin and the wallet. Though he hadn’t really thought about it all that much when MK had asked, something about his question was starting to bother the elder Gold Demon.

It was a simple thing. Small. Kinda bulky despite the size due to the sheer amount of unnecessary things inside it. Receipts for the tech they had actually bothered to pay for, they felt bad stealing from that store in the past when they learned that it was in danger of being shut down due to lost profits, coupons that would eventually be used at the last second… pictures.

So many pictures.

And yet none of them were of either twin. At least none of them alone. There's was a single picture of the two of them together, just one, after building their first successful Calabash prototype. They thought that would be picture enough whenever the off chance they were separated for a... while...

“Oh…”

"What, Jin?" Yin asked, looking up from his soldering work at the loud exclamation.

"I'm starting to think we might be a little dense," Jin replied, opening up the wallet and letting the folded pictures fall out in a line. “Remember how MK asked why we had a picture of him?”

One picture was of MK, the one the young man had seen since it was the one sitting in the only visible stop of the holder when it was folded at the moment. One of Mei working on her bike. One of Macaque they had snuck while he slept. A slightly blurry one of Sun Wukong alone they barely managed to snatch in secret.

Mei and Yin playing some sort of game together, Jin leaning on Red Son and teasing him while MK watched, a proper one of Macaque and MK and Mei together. MK and Wukong, Mei and Wukong, Mei and Macaque, a trio of training pictures. Red Son flaming up at the camera in anger.

A lone one of Tang and Pigsy in the noodle shop that Jin could not explain the reason for taking, as well as one of Sandy on his boat with his cat.

And a few more of Mei and MK and Red and Macaque with either if them in particular for good measure.

Yin looked up and down at the line of photos and then to his brother, brow raised in confusion before his eyes widened in shock and dismay as he came to the same conclusion.

“Oh bloody hell... we’ve started to CARE.”

The twins looked at each other in resignation.

Nothing they could do about it now.

[frombeyondtheblackhole]

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 9

Foolish flinched. Qackity’s shouting stopped abruptly. It was warmer (Las Nevadas was surprisingly cold). Foolish slowly opened his eyes. An open grave stood at his feet. His heart jumped into his throat and he stumbled backwards, falling on his back. He stared dumbfounded as a bee flew out from the grave and landed on his knee for a moment before flying away. Quackity was nowhere to be seen. 

His breathing slowed and he looked around. He was in a graveyard next to a church. Was he dead? Was this limbo? What had happened? He wasn’t supposed to die… but he had died before. But if he had died just now he still should have had his third life, he should have respawned… maybe he had. Maybe he was still alive… That made more sense. No, wait, he still had all of his stuff, if he had died his inventory should have been empty… Foolish held his head in his hands and stared at the ground.

“You ok there, friend?” 

Foolish’s head snapped up. A man with neon green hair stood on the other side of the stone wall surrounding the graveyard. Foolish quickly picked himself up and brushed himself off. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m fine… um- this may seem like an odd question, but, am I dead?”

The man laughed, “I don’t know, are you? I mean, I assume you're not dead, cause I’m not dead, unless you’re un-dead, if you know what I mean.” 

Foolish let out a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Alright, I’m alive, i'm not dead,” He muttered, staring at the sky.

“You sure you’re fine?” The man asked again, putting air quotes around the ‘fine’. “Cause, you don’t seem fine…” 

Foolish shook his head “No, really, don’t worry about me, I was just a bit disoriented, that’s all.”

The man pursed his lips and raised a brow “You asked me if you were dead… not if you had died. Which means you knew there was a chance you might get stuck in a respawn glitch. Have you been messing with server magic?” 

“You make that sound like a bad thing.” Foolish scowled and crossed his arms looking down at the man. He wasn’t in his twenty-three foot form but even in this form he stood almost a foot taller than the other man.  

The man shook his head “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, just dangerous. I mean, I would be a bit of a hypocrite if I condemned people for messing with server magic.”

Foolish didn’t look impressed. “It’s only dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

“I mean, I guess.” The man said rubbing the back of his neck as he contemplated Foolish’s words “But no one is stupid enough to mess around long enough to get the practice...” He trailed off as he looked up to see Foolish looking at him with an incredulous look, “Oh.” 

Foolish finally relented and his expression softened, “Maybe you're right, I mean, my name is Foolish after all,”

The man chuckled, “Maybe we're both a bit crazy. I’m Joe, Joe Hills. Nice to meet you,” He said, climbing over the low stone wall and reaching out his hand. Foolish smiled and shook it. Joe had a firm grip.

“So you said you have experience with server magic, what can you do?” Foolish asked as the two of them walked out of the graveyard and over to the church. This church was much nicer than church prime. As a builder Foolish could appreciate the detail put into the architecture.   

Joe shrugged as he sat down on the steps and leaned back on his elbows looking up at the sky, “I can see better in the dark If I want to. Honestly, I don’t really mess with it much anymore.” 

“Why not?” Foolish asked, leaning against the wall. 

Joe shrugged but Foolish noticed his grip tighten into a ball. “It wasn’t worth it. A friend of mine got hurt and almost didn’t respawn. Actually, she should be around here somewhere, I wonder where she went?” 

---

Cleo stood on a concrete road getting yelled at by an angry man with a scar through his left eye and a blue beanie.

 “Who the fuck are you? What the fuck did you do to Foolish? Where is Foolish.” 

“Aaa, Foolish is a Zombie!” another man wearing glasses and green suspenders yelled. 

Cleo staggered backwards and summoned a sword from her inventory, “Who am I, what about who are you?”   

“You better tell me, right fucking now, what the hell you did to Foolish or I’ll-”

“You’ll do what? Don’t try me, I’ll put this sword through your skull I will,” Cleo bluffed. 

The man with the scar summoned an axe.  “Charlie, go get Purpled, tell him we have an intruder in Las Nevadas.” 

The man in green, presumably Charlie, looked at him perplexed “But, Quackity from Las Nevadas, why are we attacking Zombie Foolish?” 

“Damn it Charlie, Just get Purpl-” 

Cleo didn’t let him finish. A yell ripped from her lungs as she charged him, sword swinging. Quackity startled and blocked with the shaft of his axe. He shoved her off and she staggered back. Cleo dug her heels in swinging the sword like a club. There was a burst of pain, or more like cold (Pain felt different ever since the undeath) as his axe cut into her shoulder. But he was bleeding too. His axe returned to his inventory as he clutched his arm and staggered back. Cleo gripped her sword tighter, breathing hard, her eyes locked on him. 

She felt the impact and another burst of cold as an arrow hit her in the chest. Her head snapped up, there was a kid in purple firing arrows from a crossbow as he ran towards them. He was wearing full netheriet.

Cleo turned and ran.

“Stop her, she fucking did something to Foolish!” Quackity shouted. She didn’t stop running as arrows landed about her feet. Down the road through a tunnel and past a stone fortress. Cleo scrambled off the road, over a hill. She could hear them still behind her. Dodging through the hills she was able to shake them by looping back around behind them as they continued on. 

Once they were gone she slowed down. She touched a hand to her shoulder. It was throbbing with a dull ache and it felt cold, a deep cold like ice in her veins. She looked down. The arrow was still in her chest. She needed to do something about that. 

She was back at the fortress. Cleo slid down the hill, climbing behind the wall and slumped against the stone. She gritted her teeth and pulled the arrow from her chest with a grunt, dropping it in the grass. A golden apple appeared in her hand and she took a bite, the juice tingling in her mouth as the regen and absorption began to take effect. 

The throbbing eased a little and the wounds began to close. She looked up and froze. An enderman stared back at her with mismatched eyes. No wait, not an enderman, at least not quite. Half of his face was white. 

“Hey Tubbo, I think I found out what Quackity was shouting about.” The half-enderman kid called over his shoulder. 

Cleo staggered to her feet, her sword out. “I won't hesitate to-” 

The half-enderman backed up and raised his empty hands “Oh no, we're not with Quackity,” He explained. 

Cleo scowled but lowered her sword. “Well isn’t that lovely, someone who doesn’t want to stab me.”  

He looked alarmed, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that- I mean, I definitely don’t want to do that.” Now that she got a better look at him he looked kind of young, he was tall but in the lanky teenager kind of way. He looked to be 18 or 19, maybe 17. His suit probably made him look older.  

“Oh hey, so what was Big Q so mad about?” Another kid said as he came around the building. He stopped short when he saw Cleo. “Oh…” He was much shorter than the ender-kid. Two horns curled up out of his brown hair and almost every inch of exposed skin was covered in burn scars. Cleo let her sword return to her inventory. 

“Big man, why is there a funny looking zombie in our base?” the goat kid said 

Cleo bristled, “I’m still a person, thank you.”

The goat kid looked back at Cleo  “Ooooh- oops.”

“Now look what you’ve done, you’ve gone and insulted her.”

“I didn’t meeean to, how was I supposed to know?” The goat kid wined. 

The two bickered like a married couple. Cleo coughed “Um- would either of you two be able to explain what is going on,”

“Haven’t got a fucking clue,” The goat kid chirped, a little to cheerfully. 

Cleo pursed her lips, “Well, could you at least tell me where I am?” 

“Um… The road between Las Nevadas and Spawn. Or do you mean here-here. This is our cookie shop.”  The ender-kid explained.

Cleo blinked.

“I think she means the server big man,” The goat kid said, “This is the Dream SMP.”

Cleo blinked again. So not Hermitcraft. Shit. 

---

The goat kid introduced himself as Tubbo and the ender-kid as Ranboo. Cleo explained what had happened, which made Tubbo laugh. It turned out that the cookie outpost and Las Nevadas were in conflict and Tubbo liked the idea of doing something that would, in his words “Piss off Big Q.” 

Cleo tried to return to Hermitcraft but was met with an error message. Tubbo and Ranboo offered to let her stay in Snowchester till she figured things out. They had no idea how she got there but they didn’t seem too concerned about it.

Snowchester was surprisingly far away from what the kids were calling a cookie shop. To Cleo it looked suspiciously like a military outpost but who was she to judge? 

Snowchester was a quaint little walled in town, overlooked by a massive mansion worthy of any Hermitcraft base. There was a tower, docs, and a little wheat field mixed in with little log and stone houses.  The air was crisp and cold, light snow fell around them landing on her hair and bare arms. Untouched snow coated the steps to most of the houses and closely shuttered windows looked back at her. The ocean lapped against the shore and the sound of a boat bumping against the pier carried up through the town. A single seagull landed on a stone wall. It looked at Cleo and cawed.  

Ranboo and Tubbo lead Cleo around a strangely industrial building on a hill in the middle of the town with “Danger, keep out” signs on the doors. 

“So what’s in there,” Cleo asked, nodding towards the industrial building. 

Ranboo raised his brows and looked at Tubbo. Tubbo pursed his lips “Oh nothing much, that’s just where we do equipment testing. You’re not allowed in there,” he added. There was finality to his tone. Cleo wondered what he was hiding and if it was worth snooping around to find out, but there was a dark conviction in the way that the kid with too many scars said it. The way the ender-kid hovered at his side anxiously watching everything. Maybe she should be careful not to make more enemies.  

They lead her to a little house behind the industrial building. “This used to be Foolish’s but he moved out so you can stay here for now,” Tubbo explained opening the door and letting them inside. 

“Foolish… the guy who Quackity thinks I kidnaped? You’re giving me his house?” Cleo scoffed looking around. A square table and chairs stood off to one side, a counter with a furnace and cabinets lined the back wall and a cactus in a pot sat by the front door.    

“Well, it’s not really his house anymore, he hasn’t lived here for months,” Tubbo shrugged. 

Cleo sighed, “So long as he won’t mind. Goodness this whole situation is a mess.” 

Ranboo gave her a sympathetic smile.  

“Welp,” Tubbo clapped his hands. “We’ll let you get settled in. Just don’t go snooping around in people’s homes, we are pretty private people here.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Cleo said absently, still looking around the room.

Tubbo and Ranboo left, closing the door behind them. 

There was a silence and then Cleo jumped at the sound of someone drinking milk. She spun around summoning her sword, freezing as the invisibility melted away to reveal Etho standing in the corner. 

“Finally, I thought they were never going to leave,” Etho muttered.

“Etho! What are you doing here?” Cleo bristled. 

Etho looked sheepishly off to the side as he rubbed the back of his head. “We’ll, I might have been following you. If you mean here on this server, we don’t really know. Oh yeah, TFC’s here too. We’ve been stuck on this server for about two weeks now. Least, I’ve been, TFC showed up about a week ago.”

“So wait, You're telling me you have been stuck on this server for two weeks?”

Etho nodded “Yup. Come on let's get out of here before they come back. We can talk at my secret base.” 

Cleo pulled away “Wait, wait. Why? Why were you sneaking around? Why are we avoiding those kids? I would like a good reason before I turn down their hospitality.”

“This server isn’t what it seems to be. It’s seriously glitched out. Haven’t you noticed how many scars everyone has here, how many hybrids there are.” 

Now that Cleo thought about it, even the ender-kid, Ranboo, had scars that looked like tears running down his face. Scars only happened when there was a glitch during respawn so they were pretty rare, the fact that three of the five people she had seen so far had obvious scars was concerning, especially with how bad the scars on that Tubbo kid were. On top of that, Quackity looked like he might be some kind of bird hybrid, with small golden wings, while Tubbo was a goat and Cleo had no idea what Ranboo really was. Hybrids were the result of pretty strong server glitches, and from what Etho was saying those guys weren’t the only ones. 

“So the server is glitchy, that doesn't make them bad people,”  

“There are places on this server that have been blown up all the way down to bedrock. Those kids who seemed so nice, they have nukes in that building right outside. There is a prison that everyone here is terrified of, seemingly for good reason. The Warden that guards it almost killed me while chasing me and TFC away, and said something about hunting us down and killing us till we were completely dead.”  

Cleo blanched “Completely dead… like, they have a way of reliably preventing respawning here.” She remembered what it felt like being stuck in the void unable to respawn. For Joe it had only been a couple of minutes, for her it had felt like hours.

“I don’t know,” Etho shrugged. “I just think it would be best if we all kept a low profile till we can find a way out of here.” 

“I… I trust you, Etho. But I don’t want to leave without letting those kids know that I won’t be staying here. They seem like nice kids, I’d rather not just disappear on them.” 

Etho hesitated, then nodded “Alright, Just be careful, and take this,” He said handing her two invis pots. “You can find me in the sewers under their shopping district, there is a community center in the middle of a lake, the entrance to the tunnels is underneath it.”

Cleo took the potions and smiled reassuringly, “Don’t worry, I got this. I’ll be fiiine.”

“Ok,” Etho nodded and pulled his facemask down. He drank an invis potion before leaving the building.

Cleo sighed. Perma-death hum, would that even work on her? Seeing as she already kinda died before. She didn’t want to have to find out.

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Trust Me -- Part 2

02/06/2021: Wow, uh, wow. This one got me. Almost started crying at the cheesy ending. I will cringe at it in precisely two months from now. Thank you guys SO much for all the positive feedback of PART 1, it really helped me finish this part. Without you guys, this would have been still sitting in my drafts. There's lowkey a bit of pressure in this actually being GOOD, so I'm sitting here with a bit of Imposter SyndromeTM and crossing everything I can cross that you guys like it. I can't tell whether I went overboard or not, though... I guess that's for you guys to tell me lmao.

Also, these commas can be pried from my very cold, extremely dead, fingers.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! For the first time in almost ever, I'm a bit very nervous to post this -- I hope you enjoy it!!

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie // @rahdaleigh // @sofiewithat /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @itseivwhore // @pink-polarfox // @missbenzayb // @ct-5445 // @timbreavery // @dacian-assassin // @thepalaceofmelanie // @asilverraven // @huntheimpossible // @eclectic--assassin // @thehistorynut19 // @ta-ka-shi-ma // @roki3chocoa // @fandomsfanman // @le-nottibianche // @bandit-brunsmeier // @starmoji1 // @spocktheestallion // @salty-thembo // @missingfrye // @xdeimos // If you want to be tagged, let me know!!

Warnings: Lots of swearing, a bit of graphic violence, implicit mention of sexual assault (I hope it's not a spoiler to say that this does not actually happen, but the idea is used as manipulation. It's not done well, but I'm blaming that on the character being a horrible liar, instead of me sucking at write arseholes), implied character death.

Pairing: Edward Kenway x F!Reader

Assassin's Creed Mobile Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist

The neighbouring ship was chaotic. The opponents were drunk on victory, so slipping through unnoticed was easy. The hard part was going to be staying undercover until you could free Edward and the rest of the crew without anyone falling casualty. “Strip them of their weapons and take them to the brig!” You heard the Quartermaster yell. Thinking quickly, you moved to Edward; if you knew where his weapons were, escaping could be much easier. People were already pulling out his pistols and cutlasses, fortunately dumping them in your arms. Looking around, you pulled away to hide them in an inconspicuous barrel for later.

You weren’t planning on staying long.

Quickly rejoining the group, you took hold of one of your crew members -- you recognised him as one named Jonah -- at the back of the crowd, keeping your face covered lest they accidentally reveal your identity. You kept your eye on Edward’s tense shoulders the entire time, heading below deck and to the rows of cells at the end of the ship.

As you gently pushed Jonah into the cell, someone slammed the door shut, chucking the ring of keys your way. “Lock ‘em up.” Swallowing, you nodded, feeling uncomfortable under their gaze while turning the key in the lock. Taking them out of your hands, a mop and bucket was shoved in its place. “You’re on cleaning duty, starting upstairs; let’s go.” With one last glance, your eyes scoured for Edward before they all disappeared from view.

----------

Edward

There was this crushing anxiety he just couldn’t shake. It rendered him almost motionless, crouched in the corner of the cell, picking at his sleeves. There was a commotion heading towards them; he was in for company he was not in the mood for.

Heavy footsteps gave away the visitor. “We searched your boat.” His crew parted to clear a view as Charles Marlowe relaxed against the cell bars. “We found your woman.”

Edward’s eyes snapped to Marlowe’s as he clenched his jaw, almost daring him to say more.

With a chuckle and a disgusting grin, he brought out a small knife to clean. “Don’t you want to know where she is?”

“I expect you’d would tell me regardless.”

“I would advise against winding me up, Kenway. I could always take my anger out on her instead.”

It took a second for Edward’s arms to fly through the bars, constricting around Marlowe’s throat. “What have you done with her?”

Although cold metal pressed against his jaw, he didn’t ease up.

“She’s waiting for me very nicely... in my cabin.”

Edward didn’t have to think very hard to infer his meaning.

“I’ll kill you if you touch her. I’ll kill you.” Growling, he held impossibly tighter, for if he was here, he wasn’t there.

“With your actions come consequences, Kenway. And you might not be the one paying for them.”

A dilemma came to mind: delay him to keep him away from you, or risk the consequences of his revenge?

Somewhat luckily, he didn’t need to choose.

Before Edward could comprehend that he loosened his grip, Marlowe slipped out of his grasp. The distraught Captain pressed himself against the bars, anger drenching his expression as he heaved out breaths. His captor laughed. “You’re very good at empty threats, Kenway.”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.” His cold tone streaked through the crew, setting hairs on end. They had never heard their Captain like this before; so angry, so dangerous.

It terrified them.

“That remains to be seen. In the meantime…” With a mocking whistling tune, Marlowe spun on his heels and began to walk away.

“Come back here, bilge rat!” He pulled harshly against the cell door. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Then you better stay in line.”

As he disappeared from view, Edward’s emotions overwhelmed him, frustrated tears coming to his eyes. He turned to a solid wall, slamming the side of his fist against it and yelled.

Fear, anger, guilt, and grief echoed around the brig.

Collapsing against the wood, he hid his face in his hands, aiming to either calm himself or hide his inevitable breakdown.

----------

Y/N

“Finish up downstairs.” Nodding affirmatively, you picked up the mop bucket and eagerly headed beneath deck, having to consciously slow down to avoid suspicion. You were glad you were disguised in the uniform of Marlowe’s crew instead of the rags of the common sailors aboard; it would’ve made the job much harder than it had to be.

Keeping a level head, you walked past the cell holding your family and placed the mop bucket against the wall, scanning the deck.

Empty.

Sighing in relief, you realised that you were alone with your crew at last. As you pulled the covering off of your face, you shushed frantically, the cell almost erupting into cheers. You gestured for them to part, eyeing Edward, almost balled up in the corner of the cell. “Hey, Ed,” you whispered, watching as his head snapped up to you, eyes widening.

Scrambling up, he strode to the bars in a second, reaching through the gaps to hold you. “Thank Christ…” he exhaled in relief, bringing your forehead to his lips between the bars. You pulled away after a few moments, sharing relieved glances. “Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?” he asked, eyes scanning you for any sign of injuries.

“No, no, I’m okay. Are you alright? Did we lose anyone?”

“I’m... fine; I haven’t done a head count yet.”

You didn’t reply, watching as Jonah came up to tap Edward on the shoulder. “Capt’n?”

He turned around, withdrawing his hands as Ryan came into view. “I can’t find my da’.” His voice was barely stable, cheeks stained with tear tracks. For a second, you both exchanged sorrowful glances.

Edward crouched down, ruffling his hair. “He’ll be around, lad. We just have to find him. Maybe he’s escaped and is planning his own rescue mission for us.”

Ryan nodded, wanting to believe him. Meanwhile, Edward stood and brought Jonah close, leaning to whisper in his ear. He withdrew, a willing but uncertain look on his face. Both retreated back into the small crowd.

“What did you tell him?” you asked.

“...That he has to look after Ryan now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to stave off tears. “Shit.”

His fingers gently grazed your cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright? Does Marlowe know you’re here?”

Frowning, you shook your head. “I wouldn’t have thought so; if he did, I’d be stuck in there with you.”

His expression was nearly unreadable, but you could sense his anxiety. “I saw him come from here a few moments ago. What was he saying?”

“He…” Pausing for a moment, Edward swallowed. “Just Templar bullshit.”

You scoffed at the notion. “Of course he did. Look, I know how to get out of this.”

“I’ll take anything at this point.” Although his tone was sarcastic, you could tell that for the first time, he didn’t know what to do.

“He needs to die.”

Edward froze, brows narrowing, realising your intention. “No, Y/N, no.”

“‘No’ was an option in Nassau, but we don’t have that choice--”

“No, there must be another way -- “

“There is no other way! This is our only chance--”

“Are you hearing me?! He--”

“Do you understand the situation we’re in?!”

“No, Y/N, please--”

“All it takes is--”

“Just LISTEN to me!” He hissed through gritted teeth, grasping your arm to give it a sharp shake to stop you talking over him. The shock threw you into silence. Lowering his voice, he continued. “If you make so much as one mistake, he won’t just kill you; he’ll make you wish you were dead. Please, please, don’t do this.”

You were stunned. You’ve never seen him so adamant about staying your blade. The desperation in his tone threw you off; you’ve never heard him this serious -- this frantic -- before.

Edward grabbed one of your hands in both of his, bringing your knuckles to rest against his lips. “I love you… with everything I have; I can’t lose you. Not if I can help it,” he murmured, closing his eyes. Your heart broke as you watched a tear escape, trailing down his skin.

“Okay, okay.” You rarely saw Edward cry, and when you did, it was usually due to either drinking or laughing. He took a small, shuddering breath, trying to compose himself.

“We wait for Adé. Then we’ll think about Marlowe.”

“Alright, okay. Hey...” you caressed his jaw. “I’m okay. We’ll be okay. Trust me.”

You heard ruckus above the deck. “Someone’s coming.” Both of you broke away like shrapnel, Edward sitting himself on the floor while you mopped, facing the wall.

And that was how things were.

----------

A couple of weeks had passed since the crew was abducted from the Jackdaw. Everyone had been forced to labour on the deck, doing various jobs, from scrubbing floors to adjusting sails to everything in between. Adé was nowhere to be seen; whether he was hidden on deck and still strategising, or God forbid, something worse, you didn’t know.

A few didn’t make it.

Keeping your identity hidden was becoming increasingly difficult as time went on, of both being a woman and lover of the imprisoned Captain. You had, however, been able to gather intel of Marlowe from the crew that despised him. Each day further validated your belief that this man would be much better off dead; the crew have no loyalty except out of fear, and you could work with that.

You understood Edward’s fear, but it would be selfish of you to stand back and not do anything, watching as almost everyone on the ship suffered; if you did nothing, you would regret it for the rest of your days.

One particular morning was extremely hot, extremely dry, and extremely labour intensive. You were almost halfway through your journey, and you knew you were running out of time. Something had to happen, and soon, or you would never make it to the end of the year.

----------

Edward

After the first week, the crew joined the common sailors around the ship, performing average labour over hours. There was barely time to rest, eat, or drink; he could tell that this was wearing him down more than any form of torture.

The sun’s rays beat down on the nape of his neck as midday approached. Orders were to scrub the floor. He had a brush in his hand the size of a polishing brush, sharing a bucket with four other members of his crew. Each time he made eye contact with one of them, he’d give them a reassuring look; they’d all get out of this, he just needed a plan.

Doors were haphazardly flung open, Marlowe revealing himself from his cabin, followed by an entourage of his closest crew. They clumsily made their way across the ship, bumping into those scrubbing the deck, only to send them a look as if it was their fault in the first place.

One of them knocked over a bucket of water, spilling the liquid across the wood. Edward looked up to observe the situation. It belonged to his crew, including Jonah and Ryan. Marlowe stopped, his stare set on the ones kneeling, completely ignoring the real culprit. “You.” He crooked his finger towards Ryan. “Get up.”

With a petrified look on his face, Ryan stumbled to his feet, shaking like a leaf. “It wasn’t--”

Marlowe put his hand up, a warning to shut up. “It was your bucket, was it not?”

“Y-Yes, but--”

“So it was your responsibility, correct?”

“W-Well--”

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, boy.”

“... Yes, sir.”

Marlowe turned to call to his second in command. “Get the cat.”

Edward’s heart stopped. By now, the ship had dropped to complete silence. They wouldn’t… he was only a boy. Marlowe was sadistic, but he wouldn’t be that evil, would he?

Before he could stop himself, Edward found himself standing protectively in front of Ryan. The child gripped onto his sleeve as he was pushed behind his Captain by the arm. “Why don’t you give a punishment to someone who deserves it?”

Marlowe held a neutral expression. “You’re right…” With a wave of his hand, arms snaked themselves around Edward’s, pulling him away from the others, restraining his movements.

Edward’s eyes flitted to Ryan for a split second; he was pulled to sit beside Jonah before he gained any more unwanted attention. Marlowe came to stand in front of him, unpinning his cape from around his shoulders. It fell into someone’s arms, who carried it away. Although his limbs were pulled harshly behind him, he held his head high, a hard expression in his eyes.

Undoing his cuffs, Marlowe smirked. “I believe you deserve twenty, in place of that boy…” Without warning, a fist came into contact with Edward’s sternum. If it weren’t for the arms holding him upright, the force would have sent his knees buckling. As he regained his breath, he glared at Marlowe. “Another twenty is in order for disobedience…” Another strike winded him again, this one seemingly worse than before. Keeled over, hair blocking his vision, he almost didn’t notice Marlowe leaning into his ear. “Then, about as many as I deem fit…”

Standing up straight, he shook out his hand. “Get him ready.”

Edward stumbled as he was half-dragged across the deck to the main mast. His chest and face collided with the post, the wood almost burning his skin. His arms were pulled taut above his head, rope quickly entwining itself around his wrists. He gave them an experimental tug, his heart skipping a beat when he found not even an inch of give.

Oh, fuck.

Hands gripped the back of his shirt, swiftly tearing it open. His muscles tensed as the sunlight hit his skin. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself with a breath.

The first strike licked his skin, the force shoving him against the post, ripping open stripes of flesh. Pain shot across his back. Biting a back a groan, Edward clenched his jaw. Sweat trailed down his temples, arms straining against the ropes.

Resting his forehead against the post, he prepared for the next lash.

But the strike never came.

----------

Y/N

Ooh, boy.

You were shocked at yourself for a moment, your hand firmly wrapped around Marlowe’s extended wrist, the cat of nine tails trickling Edward’s blood onto the back of your hand.

“I demand satisfaction.”

Gasps and muttering littered the crowd, and you kept to yourself the true realisation of what you’ve done.

You’ve challenged Marlowe to a duel.

“Don’t…” Edward looked over his shoulder, voice loud enough for only you to hear.

You spared him a side glance, urging him to quiet down.

Instead of the expected anger, Marlowe chuckled. “Alright; who demands it?”

You pulled off your face covering and hat, the sun hitting the skin on your face fully for the first time in two weeks. “Naturally, me.”

He hummed darkly, eyes narrowing with recognition. “Naturally.” He began to unsheathe his sword.

“I thought you were a man of tradition; are pistols not your forte?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

After a prolonged glance, metal clicked back into its leather hold. “You really don’t know what you’re getting into, my dear.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“... Let’s get this over with.”

Your heart pounded. This was such a stupid move.

But it was also your only move.

Hiding your own fear, you held eye contact with Marlowe. With trembling fingers, you drew your own pistol, gifted to you by Edward from your last birthday. It was very much your lucky charm, and you hoped it wouldn’t fail you now.

“Ten paces, on my count.” You had no idea who the voice belonged to, nor did you have the current emotional capacity to care. Pulling the hammer down on your pistol, you turned your back to Marlowe. A blank was fired, the echoing shot a signal to start moving.

1…

2…

3...

It was almost deadly quiet.

4…

5…

6…

This was stupid, this was a bad idea. You won’t make it.

7…

8--

An unexpected shot rang out. You dropped to the floor, a pain beginning to blossom in your side.

“NO!”

Marlowe had cheated. Internally, you scoffed. Of course he did.

Although it stung, you were surprised at how bearable the pain was, given you just got shot.

Or did you?

You lay still, partly in shock and partly to plan what to do next.

“What are you all looking at? Get back to work!”

“Y/N? Y/N/N!” You heard Edward’s voice crack. “You cheating bastard!”

“Now, now, Kenway. Don’t forget the position you’re in.”

Floorboards creaked as someone approached. Pistol miraculously still in hand, you waited for as long as possible. Just a little longer....

A shadow shaded your face from the sun. Without thinking, you turned, aimed, and shot.

Marlowe stared back, glassy eyed, blood trickling down his nose.

A moment later, he collapsed.

No one dared to move, choosing to stare at the body in front of them, not quite believing that he was dead.

The monster of a man was dead.

After the adrenaline ebbed away, you sighed heavily. “Glad that’s over.” A hand came into view, offering assistance to stand up. You locked eyes with someone who should have made himself known a long time ago. “Adé!” Accepting the help, you smirked. “Great timing.”

You quickly moved to Edward to begin untying the knots around his wrists. “What the fuck were you thinking?!” he exclaimed, exertion clear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for worrying you--”

“Worrying me?” One wrist freed, he deftly moved to the other. “When I saw you lying there, I felt as if I had died!”

You sighed. “I needed to do something, lest you became more bone than back.”

“That was the most stupid plan I’ve ever seen in my life.” His hands free, he paid no heed to his own wounds and immediately tried to inspect yours. “You were so irresponsible--”

Bringing his face to yours, you stopped him talking with a kiss.

He diffused immediately, finally processing that you were in front of him, alive, and Marlowe was the one dead on the floor. Melting into you, the tension in his muscles dissipated, replaced only with relief. He broke apart from you, burying his face in your neck, his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“If the plan worked, it couldn’t have been that stupid,” you remarked.

“I’m so sorry.” His words were mumbled into your shoulder.

“You were looking out for me; I would have done the same if the roles were reversed.” You hugged him back, recoiling when he suddenly flinched in pain. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

“Shall we just accept each other’s apologies and call it a day?”

You laughed. “That would be good.”

Turning to the hands on deck, you raised your pistol in the air. “It’s over, lads! We can go home!”

You held your side, the pain greatly subsided under the amount of other emotions you were feeling; joy, relief, but also grief. Not for Marlowe, but for the ones that didn’t see this day.

You made a vow there and then; a vow to live your life the way they would have lived.

With joyful, carefree fun.

With the ability to live in the moment.

With gratitude for what you still have that they lost: For some, love, and for others, life.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone’s Symphony | Prologue | Hades

Hey lovelies— this will either be a long fic or a short series, depending on how it best plays out. I decided to upload a sneak peak— let me know what y’all think and do enjoy!!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, at times semi-graphic, eventual smut

Word count: 2.5k (and counting)

Next

Master List

“Barnes, you’re on protection detail.”

He must be dreaming— he must have fallen asleep with the tv on again. That’s been happening a lot lately; he’s trying to catch up on normal life. On all the shows and movies and music he’s missed throughout the years. He’s trying to catch up. Or maybe he’s just trying to drown out the silence. It doesn’t matter why, to be honest, all that matters is that he is asleep and what he is hearing and seeing are the workings of a bad dream. There was a marathon last night. Yeah, there was. Movies— a few of them. Something about bodyguards. He’s just dreaming about the movies.

Right?

Wrong.

“You’re to make sure she is secured at all times during the next three days— do not leave Miss Y/l/n’s side under any circumstances. Understood?”

Bucky blinks twice, his brows creasing as he stares down his commander, a stubby, burly man with beady eyes. It’s a trial run— he can’t say no. He wants to, he just can’t afford to. Not if he wants a job. Still, he sees no reason for this to be on him. He’s a soldier— a good one. A dangerous one. Watching over little girls isn’t in his job description. He’s a fighter— a monster.

“I need an affirmative, Barnes.”

He bites back a scowl. He’s not trying to get demoted, he knows he’s on thin ice. But, like, isn’t there anyone else? Hell— Wilson is right next to him! Surely he’s better. He’s charming, at least. A flirt. He would be perfect! Wilson would keep her safe. So would he— maybe. Definitely from the threat. From himself, though— well, three days is a long time to avoid sleeping. Even for him.

“Barnes!”

Damnit.

“Understood, sir.”

Wilson’s amused chuckles sound from beside him, his hand landing like a ton of bricks on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky contemplates the repercussions of punching the smug bastard in the middle of a briefing. It can’t be more than a pay dock. He isn’t making that much anyway, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. It would be worth it to wipe that grin off his face. But, no, he can’t. He’ll have to do it later.

“Someone’s on babysitting duty.” Wilson snickers, pressing his fist to his mouth to hide his goading from the commander. “Remember Barnes; no candy after seven.”

“Shut up, Wilson.” He grunts back, just barely stopping his metal arm from flying out and smacking him— from squashing him like the bug he is.

“Think she has a bedtime?”

“Think you could shut up?”

Wilson flexes his fingers, holding them up slightly. Just enough as to not get caught ignoring the briefing but also enough to make sure Bucky notices. “Woah—” he says under his breath, that stupid smirk still heavy in his tone— “someone’s touchy today.”

“It’s a bad decision and you know it.” He says it simply— gruffly— it is the truth after all. He’s dangerous.

Wilson’s face softens, the glee filtering from his tone. “You’ll be fine, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, he just clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to have another conversation about this. You’re a good person. You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your fault. It might not be his fault but he still did it. He still feels it. That makes him bad— if not morally than at least physically. He’s a liability.

“Y/n Y/l/n—” Bucky focuses back on the commander; he may as well learn what he needs to do— “the twenty-five year old heir to the biggest communications technology manufacturing companies in the world. They do dealings with a range of chief institutions including our own White House—”

If Bucky’s teeth weren’t pressed together hard enough to make him wonder if they’re going to disintegrate, then his jaw would be on the floor right now. She’s the what? Did he just say twenty-five? He can’t even remember what he was doing at twenty-five— whatever he was doing it certainly wasn’t that. Granted, he probably doesn’t really want to remember what he was doing. Soldier things. Dangerous things. He shakes his head, huffing out a breath of air.

“Her immediate family have all turned up dead within the last six months—”

Bucky flinches— this time his jaw does drop.

“Holy shit.” Wilson mutters from next to him— Bucky can only nod. No more jokes about babysitting then.

Some pictures appear on the screen behind the commander, each one more gruesome than the last. It is nothing overtly sinister— nothing he hasn’t seen before— nothing worse than anything he’s seen before. Or worse than what he, himself, has done. He shivers, staring at the photos. Two men and a woman, each with a scarlet circle blown through their foreheads. What the fuck.

“Other executives have been found dead as well—” more pictures, more bullet holes— “She is the last one. We don’t know who or why— our mission is to find out, execute, and above all keep Miss Y/l/n alive—”

The pictures change, finally showing the woman who is to be in the soldier’s care, and his heart stops. Not for any normal reason, though— not because of how obscenely beautiful she is or because of the way her eyes pierce through the junky projector as though she were actually in the room with him. Not because of how soft she looks or how he can see the pink sheen of her lip gloss or the way those glossy lips are curved into an open mouth smile— like the picture had been taken mid laugh. No. His heart stops because of how god damn fragile she looks.

In the picture she seems to be at a University with some friends of hers. They’re backed against a brick facade, shoulder to shoulder like some sort of preppy mugshot. It’s probably supposed to be comical— Wilson lets out a hmph next to him, clearly seeing it as well— but Bucky can’t find it in himself to laugh. Not given the circumstances. Regardless though the picture gives him the information he needs to know; that she is a head shorter than the males in the picture. That seems normal— a head isn’t much in the scheme of things. The size difference is nothing.

Nothing unless, of course, you’re a giant super soldier whose genetically modified to be larger, stronger, and faster than the average man. Deadlier than the average man. He won’t be just a head taller than her— he’ll be at least two. Maybe more. And that’s just the height— he doesn’t even want to think about the rest. He is going to be stuck for three days, in what will most likely be a cramped safe house, with a girl who he could potentially break by bumping into her too hard. He can see it now: he takes the corner too fast and the next thing he knows she’s sprawled at his feet, her limbs bent at grotesque angles and her glossy lips flattened. All because he didn’t think to check.

This is going to be a long three days.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As it turns out, there are no safe houses— not legitimate ones at least. What there is, however, is the Wilson’s old family home in Delacroix, Louisiana— a semi falling apart, two-story build with robin's egg blue, fading paint. It is nestled deep into the bayou, hidden meticulously between towering trees. It is miles from any main roads and on the bank of a mostly dead river. Foot traffic is scarce and boats rarely pass on sunny days, let alone during the rainy season— the season it just so happens to be. Perfect.

Well, the location is perfect. The rest is a god damn shit show.

“You ready?” Sam doesn’t look at him— he knows better than that, opting instead to continue staring out at the bayou from behind the wheel.

Bucky, hunched over in the passenger seat, eyes also locked on the blue home, shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Sam sighs and Bucky tries not to tense at the sound. Please, not another lecture— not right now. He tries to ignore the man, gaze pouring over what he assumes is supposed to be a charming porch. Under a dim but sturdy awning there waits a white swing with a long bench seat and some floral pillows. Across from it are two rocking chairs swaying softly in the Louisiana breeze. One has a matching blanket draped over the back. It is supposed to look cozy— he knows it’s supposed to and he is sure to everyone but him that it is cozy. To him, though, it looks like everything he doesn’t have. Like warmth and sunny days and peace. Things he wants and things that make his skin crawl because of how foreign they are to him.

“You’re not going to hurt her.” Sam taps his hand on the wheel, sounding out a pattern that plays more like bullets ricocheting through the cab of the truck than whatever melody it actually is.

Bucky grinds his teeth together. Now he’s looking at the window beside the porch. Is it a kitchen? A mudroom? A den? He isn’t sure, there’s a white curtain pulled across the frame, blocking his vision from whatever waits for him on the inside. Blocking his vision from her. For a moment he thinks he sees the curtain move— a shadow of a hand passing along the edge. He turns away— he doesn’t want to scare her if she’s trying to size him up before they meet. It’s the least he can do. God only knows how terrified she already is.

His stare lands on Sam— an invitation for the soldier to finally look away from the bayou. “But I could, right? That’s what matters here— I could hurt her.”

“No, Buck, you couldn’t— you wouldn’t. You aren’t evil or whatever it is you think you are.” Sam raises a brow and Bucky scowls— it always feels like he’s in his head.

Of course he would never tell Sam Wilson that— like a dog left to fend for himself, he would rather fight.

“Don’t pretend like you have any idea what I think.” He can’t find it in himself to feel guilty for snapping— isn’t that what wild animals do?

Ever the patient animal rescuer, Sam rolls his eyes at the bite. “You’re a good man, Barnes.”

Bucky stares back for a minute, not sure how to even broach an answer, before breaking, snapping his gaze back to the inviting home— his kennel for the next three days. He clenches his jaw, trying not to slam his head against the dashboard for being an idiot. Even Bucky understands that it’s bad when he breaks the stare first— he’s been told before that he has a staring problem. He just doesn’t want to look Wilson in his eyes and explain to him exactly why he’s wrong. Maybe it’s just easier to let him think what he wants.

“Whatever.”

Maybe he wants just one person to truly believe that he isn’t the bad guy— even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

“I thought old people were supposed to be mature.”

Bucky flashes him a forced grin, one that tastes like the three hours of sleep he got last night and the five hours of self-loathing, shoving open his door and following it with his foot. “That’s me— the mature one.”

Sam barks out a laugh; either Bucky’s grimace— grin— worked or Sam is choosing to ignore it. “You’re old, not mature— there’s a difference, pal.”

“Hmph.” Bucky jumps out of the truck, yanking the duffle bag over his shoulder as his boots sink into the spongy grass.

His skin dampens immediately, a combination of the marshy climate and the grey clouds hanging above his head. A few droplets fall against his face and he slings a hand over his brows, turning towards his fate for the next three days. Without the barrier of the truck between him and the house, he almost feels like a normal man again. The weak, destructible kind. Theoretically, if the house were to fall on top of him right now he would survive. He would be pinned under the rubble, yes, but alive. It just doesn’t feel like it— it feels like he would be crushed. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end— his hackles rising as he tries not to bare his teeth— or fangs— at this new kind of threat. If only people could see him now; The White Wolf afraid of a charming, bayou home.

What a joke.

He shakes his head, pushing the passenger door shut with a sharp clang. Of course he isn’t afraid of a house— then he really would be an idiot. No, he is afraid of something else entirely— something much more sinister. Bucky is afraid of suburbia; of normalcy. What, with a metal arm and a brain hardwired to kill— it only makes sense he would also be programmed to steer clear of anything half-way decent. Especially pretty, fragile girls with glossy lips. Fuck. He squeezes his eyes closed, his vibranium fingers clenching around the strap of his bag. What is he even doing here?

A familiar, mechanical buzz fills the air and he cracks an eye back open in time to see Wilson leaning his head out of the passenger window. “Look, man— it’s three days. The fridge is full, the wifi is on, and it’ll rain so much she’ll probably nap the entire time. Pretend you’re at home doing whatever it is you would normally do. You’ll be fine.”

Bucky nods, sticking to his guns and letting the soldier believe what he wants. He tells himself again that it is because it is easier that way. “I gotta go, Wilson.”

With that he pushes his way to the door. His feet sink further into the grass with every step, curling around his ankles as though trying to warn him against entering the house— or trying to save the poor girl inside. He can’t decide. Warning or trap. Both. A warning for her— the princess; the little girl in the forest— and a trap for him— the rabid wolf. He steps onto the porch, his boots echoing off the concrete. To him it’s booming. He doesn’t want to think about what it must sound like to her, especially with everything the commander said she’s been through. A giant coming to kill her is his guess. Movement to the left catches his eye, the curtains shifting again, and his neck flushes.

“Hey Buck?”

He sighs— again— and turns over his shoulder for what he hopes is the last time— he just wants to get this over with. “What, Wilson?”

He knows before the man speaks that the cheshire grin on his face can mean nothing good— still he waits for the answer.

“Remember to tiptoe.”