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mattelektras · 2 years

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toughts on the new horror anthology marvel announced? also toughts on elektra and horror themes in general?

i’m a horror gal thru n thru so remember that you asked for this

marvel have rly good fodder for horror comics but they just never fuckin use it. when dc was doing dceased i talked about all the different subgenres marvel could be doing in the halloween season!!!! and i will do it again!!

daredevil would be perfect for found footage kind of horror like. hell’s kitchen residents piecing together their own footage of matt vs whatever cloverfield type of shite is going on

identity horror w spiderman and his clones

historical horror w elektra in like. ancient japan w the hand. or just straight up demon shit in modern day.

tech horror in wakanda

cosmic horror w the guardians considering they spend half their time in the skull of a celestial. or they used to. idk what mcu lite guardians are doing nowadays.

high school drama turned horror w the xmen……. prom or whatever and then celebratory vacation to this fucked up island that’s kind of alive but jean also has to choose between her 15 suitors at the same time as dealing w mr sinister’s fucked up cabin in the woods experiment!!!!!

classic monster horror w elsa bloodstone

more daredevil because your girl plays favourites, zombie horror w all his dead friends and girlfriends.

revenge horror with elektra after her dad dies. or after matt dies. kill him for some extra flavour

psychological horror w moon knight if they PROMISE not to be weird about mental health. OR something a la the descent. where he goes somewhere to find something out about the bird god living in his brain and it gets a little fucked up

some more xmen w survival horror in the savage land. a sentinel type thing but more like mr predator from predator hunts them all down

slasher horror w the various wolverines. laura n akihiro have to deal w their father in one of his stab stab beserker episodes

genre savvy horror w the runaways and young avengers

purge type shit w the punisher. i’m sure he will bring up his dead family

cultist lovecraftian horror w wanda. dr strange, voodoo, dr doom etc can come too. NOT like budget horror Welcome 2 My Twizted Mind wendy in the mcu.

home invasion horror w the xmen or in avengers manor/tower wherever those bitches are living right now but when only the avengers i like are home

blade just. literally doing his normal shit

i could genuinely go on for days. the potential is right there but all marvel ever does is like. oooh everyone’s a zombie and the genre has no connection to the characters that are it it or waaaa x character kills the marvel universe waaaa. it’s BORING. this is a company run by boring bitches. elektra is RIGHT THERE and every year i say please may i have a halloween variant at the very least, company that i have never said anything mean about. and every year they say NO shut the fuck up to me PERSONALLY!!! they mail that shit to my house in a big fuck you red envelope. and at this point i would rather they didn’t bother if they’re not gonna at least TRY. horror one shots are just one of the things dc just does Better

as for elektra and horror, i’ve made my stance on the potential relationship there pretty clear. like. she could do it all. she could be the final girl, she could be the dies first and comes back slightly fucked up in the sequel, she could be the villain, she could be pre death, she could be post death etc etc. there are SO MANY THINGS abt her that fit such a wide scope of horror tropes. one of my favourite movies ever is all the boys love mandy lane and she could DO THAT!!!! the innocent in the beginning, victim of circumstance (college, pre death, young adult elektra) to actually no fuck all of you, refuses to be manipulated by the people, mostly men, around her, turns out to be the killer. the audition is another. let her torture the shit out of stick or bullseye when they think they can use her. she already has so many aspects of horror stories in her own, she’s been covered in blood so many times and for what!!!!!! we’re not doing anything with it!!! she’s a KILLERRRR and in a horror au, everyone can die!!! it’s prime territory!!

and women in horror is such a fuckin goldmine too. like especially women who have been through shit and to see what happens when they’re forced into certain situations. as well as women who HAVENT been through shit and just wanna go apeshit one time. there’s a reason why so much horror focuses on women and that’s because they’re usually made by men who want to see some women suffer but that’s changed so much since and like yeah. there are a still a good few that are like ok we get it you want to see a woman get tortured. but there’s so much more substance to it. or there could be???? it’s a women’s power fantasy like iron man is a men’s power fantasy and i will not be elaborating. brad from ohio wants to be rich and for girls to like him. i want to kill people with an axe in a life or death situation. we are not the same.

tl;dr. it’s the genre she deserves after being a character that’s revolved around the men in her life since the dawn of time, and after the man who created her is one of the slimiest motherfuckers ever to leave his primordial soup. she could ENCOMPASS the genre for marvel but no one listens to me

#anyway. i’m completely normal about it #q & a #anonymous

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deck16 · 2 years

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Adventures in Lyria Retrospective

I’ve done it! DMed a campaign from minimum to maximum level. No cheats or shortcuts; the real thing. Achievement unlocked.

It happened to be D&D Fifth Edition, though really, I’d probably feel the same if I’d done it in any similar system.

This post is me reflecting back on it. Three real-life years of gameplay. I don’t know this post will be of much interest to those outside the campaign; but such readers are welcome anyway. Apologies if it’s a bit rambly: my priority was to put thoughts to paper.

This post isn’t a re-telling of the story: you can find other posts that do that here, starting here (though at the time of writing I’m quite behind and have a lot of catch-up to do).

Music

I’m putting this section first, so you can potentially listen while you read.

I think music and/or ambient sound adds a lot to the RPG experience. While I do have some generic playlists, most are customised to fit the mood and setting.

Here’s a very non-exhaustive list. You will find the inspiration behind many of these quite obvious.

Aarakocra Theme. Mostly used in the dungeon beneath Silvercap Mountain. Exotic. With quirky, sad, and menacing tracks.

Aarakocran Ghost. The theme of the flute-playing child ghost that haunted the dungeon beneath Silvercap Mountain.

Asurath’s Theme. Bygone prestige.

Breathy Combat Music. One. Two. Three. Just some of the many, many “generic combat” tracks; these would become player favourites.

Celestial Theme. Holy, yet cold and aloof.

Charun’s Theme. Ghosts of civilisations past.

Katarina’s Theme. Pure; with a mix of sad and hopeful tracks.

Lady Xilo’s Theme. Beautiful and regal; but melancholy.

Laila Akeldama’s Theme. Yeah… the NPC’s name came from the music.

Lyria’s Might Theme. Mighty, ponderous, and oppressive. Used often for Strabo.

Illuminates Theme. One. Two. Holy, yet tinged with a sinister darkness.

Moon Theme. One. Two. Rarefied and hypnotic.

Nyctimene Theme. For Ezekial’s abandoned village. Sad and nostalgic.

Port CS College Theme. Lighthearted and wacky, suitable for a shenanigans in a wizard college.

Port CS Theme. One. Two. Three. Four. Maritime and a bit roguish.

Port CS Countryside Theme. Calm and serene. For a quiet island once at the edge of the known world.

Second Legion Chant.

Valerius Family Theme. Refined yet passionate.

Yudibug Theme. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Alien and primitive.

Playing Online

The Technology

We started with Roll20’s free tier. Then I forked out for a paid tier, with API access. Finally we moved to Foundry once it was available.

Roll20 is not bad. The free tier includes a lot of functionality; and it’s totally possible to play D&D or a similar RPG with it. The paid tiers offer very useful extra tools, but in my opinion it is a bit pricey.

Foundry is cheaper than Roll20, because you pay-to-own rather than pay-per-year. (Like Roll20, players don’t have to pay to join.) But that’s not the main reason why I moved. Foundry is software you own and run on your own machine, and so not beholden to a third-party company’s whims. No-one can shut my self-run server down, and no-one can tell me what addons I can and can’t use.

The Experience

People often say playing in-person is better. I actually think I prefer online because of the tools you get with something like Foundry. If I ever played in-person again, it would be with the aid of Foundry.

An example? A tool like Foundry can handle vision for your combats, taking into account darkness, light sources, and line-of-sight. None of that is possible with miniatures on a grid. We’ve had some fantastic battles where players had to deal with incomplete knowledge due to limited vision, and it’s a blast when the player is surprised to see something when they round a corner, rather than simply role-play-pretending its a surprise to their character.

The party battle with Master Tarquin inside the Tiger’s Nest monastery. The coloured golems are part of the morality puzzle they’d have to solve next.

The System

I am not brand-loyal to Hasbro or Wizards of the Coast. I think they’re a typical greedy corporation, willing to double-dip by making customers pay for books, then pay again for online resources, then pay again for official Roll20 content.

So keep that in mind when I say I quite like D&D 5e. As a system, it manages to both be simple to understand and learn while keeping some depth. That’s no easy thing to do.

D&D 5e is a little simple for my tastes, but not by much. I enjoyed it for this campaign and would enjoy it again.

But there were some things in the system that were trouble.

The Adventuring Day

5e is balanced around “the adventuring day”, where a party has many encounters before they can stop for a serious rest.

You can make encounters harder to compensate, but that only works up to a point before combat gets very luck-based and un-fun. And you can’t ignore The Adventuring Day guidelines or you’ll be affecting class balance.

That’s really annoying as a DM. I felt like I was stuffing in encounters that weren’t needed. They weren’t fun. They weren’t necessary to the story.

There are workarounds, and some I used and they did help, but the core idea is busted. It felt like a straight-jacket limiting me from certain kinds of adventures. For example, I couldn’t have a stand-alone short-and-sweet mini-adventure that involved a bit of exploration or social interaction cumulating in a single fight; that would break the balance.

Difficulty

I remember an early combat during Vinalia that was just an optional sparring match with gladiators. Lukil requested a fighter harder than the hardest one I had put on offer. And the party won handily. That, I think, helped me realised I had to push this party a little harder than simple CR math suggested.

That isn’t a complaint about the Challenge Rating system. It worked well enough, and when I learned to factor in this “handicap”, it worked even better and consistently so. Most fights were decent challenges.

If I had to pick, I’d say I strayed on the side of “too easy”.

There were only two-and-a-half character deaths (Flutter’s is only one-half because it was loosely planned). There were many more moments of danger – low hit points or other precarious situations. But I don’t think the party were often pushed to the edge.

I have a few thoughts on that.

Firstly, that may be a valid way to play, especially with more linear adventures. It’s a bit mean to put in an encounter that the party will likely lose if they’ve no choice in the matter. Usually extreme difficulty is for optional things, like gladiator sparring matches, or ancient dragons that are safely chained up. Or for sandbox adventures with more than one path.

Secondly, I put some blame on the Adventuring Day, which I discuss above. When done the “proper D&D way”, the first few encounters of a day are not ever going to be dangerous; just a matter of how many resources they waste.

Thirdly, pushing the party to the edge is harsh. It usually means flirting with a TPK. A TPK kills beloved characters and may even derail a campaign. Very likely I was sensible to avoid this and err on the side of easy. Who knows: if I had done the opposite would I be lamenting now about being too harsh?

So in conclusion? I think I did a pretty good job overall as combat was consistently challenging. If I was to do it again I might lean harder on the party, gradually and slowly over time, and re-evaluate. I’d probably do a better job just because of more experience.

High Level Complexity

High level play is fun to experience. But I wouldn’t want to live there.

As the characters ascended above level 15, they got a lot of powers. That was trouble for two reasons:

It gets complicated. Not as bad as this. But a little like that. Mentally draining.

The balance gets a little off. There are certain things that approach the level of being “I win” buttons unless the enemy has a very particular counter. Those kinds of features are “balanced” in the sense that can’t be used often enough for every encounter. But the encounters they are used in often get trivialised, which makes them boring, which is a shame. Doubly so they were meant to be a climactic boss fight. Some examples of “trouble abilities”:

Forcecage. No-save, no-concentration crowd-control. If the trapped baddie can’t teleport, it’s screwed. It’s basically out of the fight until it can be dog-piled when it’s alone at the end.

Paladin Auras +5 to saving throws in an aura is powerful. It makes the party extremely hard to affect with certain spells (the fun ones). With a 10-foot radius it’s not too bad, but when it blooms out to 30 feet it’s pretty much always in play. I believe one of the players said, in reference to the series of encounters leading to the final BBEG, “If it wasn’t for Garo we’d be dead.”

Thankfully 5e seems to be quite linear in level progression, so the party were high level only for a while; and level 20 only for a handful of sessions.

A play is put on honouring the heroes’ exploits in saving Cantia from the lycanthrope threat. Here, the actors playing the heroes fight against actors playing the role of Strabo et al.

Story

A DM has to be a very exceptional writer to have a really amazing story that is simultaneously shapeable by the players. That flexibility destroys the careful crafting that clever twists and revelations require.

But I think this campaign had a serviceable story, given that handicap. It’s not something laden with brilliance to be pulled apart in an English Literature degree. But I think it was coherent and engaging.

Character Arcs

Every long- or medium-term PC got a story. The depth of the story was related to the character’s longevity. A few characters came and went before getting a story; either because the player left, the player swapped them out, or the character died.

Here’s my take on the arcs:

Cyrus. Lady Xilo did well as a mysterious patron, and potential villain. Cyrus had a bit of a slow-burn story that took off when the party visited Helicalis. Cyrus’ story didn’t exactly resolve, but it was left unresolved in a tantalising way. That said, it did see some kind of resolution, as the intra-party tension on Silvercap Mountain served as a satisfying chapter-point.

Ezekial. The story of Ezekial is mostly the story of Asurath. Both in game-mechanic terms and story-terms I think I could have been a bit more consistent with Asurath. Anyone looking back would find inconsistencies aplenty, but thankfully that can just add a mysterious mythic feel to a story element like Asurath. Asurath lent itself to being an end-game plot point, and it was great for that. But Zeke’s longer-term story was all about maturing from hot-headed and naive to properly heroic.

Flutter. Apparently meant to be something of a throw-away temporary character, Flutter became a mid-to-late-game mainstay. Flutter stands out to me for his Gandalf-like transformation: starting as an exasperated, put-upon (and cute) kenku driven almost-helplessly along by fate; turning into a powerful yet compassionate aarakocran wizard who steered important events. Flutter’s illumination-magic theme strongly pervaded the character concept. His story arc involving the history of his people was more of a side-story to that, though it did include a fun “mega-dungeon”.

Garo. Garo didn’t have a major plot-point introduced by me. Rather, bringing Strabo to justice became his plot-point, which led to a fantastic chapter in the campaign. There was something of a small story involving Garo’s interactions with St Cuthbert. Garo’s evolution was almost the inverse of Zeke’s: the inflexible crusader learned to chillax and see the bigger picture. Garo and Zeke are to this campaign what Leonardo and Rapheal are to the ninja turtles.

Lukil. Lukil got to free her father; I’m glad we managed to do that before the player left. But there was more to Lukul’s story. We saw the start of her emerging from her fiercely independent and proud shell. I would’ve liked to see that carry on long-term.

Trystan. I really wanted to make Trystan’s story a multi-session arc about his election to Consul. Complete with political intrigue, involvement of his family, and probably some interference in Veronica Veneno’s marriage. Trystan’s player gave me a lot to work with, and I put in the early setup work, introducing the NPCs and such. I also would have loved to showcase Lyria as a city more. Sadly, the available space in the campaign shrunk and this was squeezed out. Also, I struggled to think of ways to mesh high-level play with “lowly” politics, especially given D&D’s “need” for combat. Politics seems too easy for a party with access to high-level spells and abilities.

Zilt. First player; first story. A lovely little story about a cautious kobold with a tender heart who dared to improve life for his kin. An ideal plot for low-level play. Zilt was the perfect party member for the early-game party: his exasperated realism brilliantly contrasted and complimented the dreamy Cyrus and stoic Lukil.

Alexandros, Adan, Algo, Clever Clover, Kytah, Surkiv, Valerius. These were all short-term PCs. Alexandros and Surkiv had backstories that did tie them into the Strabo plot, but no special arc was done for either. I had an idea for a story for Clever Clover involving visiting the tabaxi homelands. As for the rest? They were too short-lived for me to think seriously on.

Special PC Mechanics

Cyrus had a variety of special magical talents revolving around chaos and disrupting magic; mostly tied to his sorcerery points. These grew over time as he destroyed powerful magics.

Ezekial had Asurath. The sword took on the powers of the things it killed, which mostly allowed him to expand his spell list. And it became very powerful indeed for the last few sessions of the game. Some of the sword’s stronger powers were meant to drain Ezekial, and I had rules in place for that, but it didn’t really play a strong role in the game. Possibly because they weren’t debilitating enough, or they were too easily rested away, or because they just weren’t used often enough.

Zilt had a poisoner’s kit. I gave him region-specific ways to collect ingredients and make special poisons out of them. The skill was crucially important in infiltrating the yudibug lair.

I didn’t give Garo any special mechanical feature. I probably should have.

Legend lore was often spiced up with a little interactive encounter. When learning about the cudgel of St Cuthbert, the players took on the roles of historic heroes battling against the arch-devil Arcadion. “I’m not trapped in here with you. You’re trapped in here with me.”

Intra-party Conflict

I like when PCs have some disagreements. Provided it doesn’t lead to hurt feelings out-of-character, or disrupt the party’s ability to adventure (and, you know, play the game).

The first conflict between Cyrus and Lukil was all Lukil’s idea, and it was a good example of this kind of thing done well. Annoyed with his sacrilegious nature and perceived lack of honour and bravery, she chided him, until he ultimately defeated her in first-blood hand-to-hand combat (with a lucky critical hit).

The conflict between Cyrus and Flutter was good, though as a DM it did scare me as it seemed to walk very close to the out-of-character cliff edge. Cliff-edges aside, it had a perfect arc to it. It was nuanced and complex and driven by the character personalities. Flutter found Cyrus’ selfish nature disgusting, and Cyrus’ reaction to being judged was to grow more cold and distant in return, thus making selfish acts more likely (or less hidden). The feud boiled over at Silvercap Mountain, after defeating that chapter’s BBEG. The two did reconcile, somewhat, after a long time apart.

I was considering a final show-down between Ezekial and Garo, likely brought about by refusal to give up an empowered Asurath. There were hints to this in prophecy and carnival divination magics. The other PCs would have to choose sides. But this ending seemed less and less of a valid option as the story approached its end. It would’ve been wrong to force Zeke and Garo to conflict, given how they had both changed.

Place and Time

We’d often joke that, in-universe, the whole story probably lasted only a month or two. Driving the plot along is good, but I should’ve given more opportunity for down-time. At least for the wizard’s sake.

Other than that, I probably wouldn’t change much when it came to place and time.

The locales were not richly detailed lore-wise, but I don’t think that’s a problem, as no player enjoys a lore-dump. But I feel that the players appreciated and understood the necessary stuff: the important NPCs, factions, history, and current events.

I like to think that the game lingered in some locations long enough to get a good feel for them while also not over-staying to the point of boredom. Places like the early swamp, Port CS, Helicalis, and even Asurath’s pocket dimension.

The party are caught by Charun on the roof of the bridge-chateau in Cortona, and are forced to flee.

The Supernatural

This is a fantasy setting in a fantasy game, so of course there will be magic spells, supernatural monsters, and such.

But I take great care to shroud the extremis of things in mystery. The nature of gods and the fate of souls is unknown. Visiting “inner” planes like the Feywild is non-trivial. The “outer” planes may not exist at all.

My approach is for two reasons:

It’s easier to focus on the fate of mortals when the fate of the rest of the cosmos is unknown and largely unknowable.

It makes contact with these things – fey, fiends, celestials, moon-creatures – all the more special. The mystery and alien-ness enhances them.

The Villains

I suppose there were four BBEGs:

Simserion the Necromancer.

Pheland Phylund the werewolf rebel leader.

Magnus Strabo the army general.

Charun the Senectifier, the ancient black/shadow dragon.

I don’t think it would be controversial to say Strabo was the favourite. Unlike the others, the party got to interact with him a good amount. His evil nature was partly motived out of an overactive sense of duty and desire to protect his nation. And he was considered by society as a hero, and so the party couldn’t just simply find and kill him.

Strabo probably also had the most interesting combat mechanics. He was powerful (of course) but not super-powerful like a dragon. It wasn’t deadly to go up and duel him, but as Zeke found out, it wasn’t easy!

Garo takes the stand as a witness in the court case against Strabo.

Happy Ending

The campaign was pretty happy overall. Apart from releasing Charun, the party had no major failings.

They can largely congratulate themselves for this. Efforts like the Feywild play or the court case against Strabo succeeded phenomenally. I am confident enough to say that’s mostly (or entirely) down to players thinking well rather than me screwing up the difficulty.

In future games I may toy with this balance. Of course I wouldn’t force bad outcomes. But I may make the pathway to the happy ending more narrow and/or harder to find. Some failures amongst the successes could make for more a more interesting story.

The party’s ending discussion hinted at some still-present foes:

Arcadion will be back at some point.

While Charun’s destructive and genocidal days are over, Lady Xilo confessed to still being a foe to Material Plane civilisation.

Laila still schemes back in Laconia.

There’ll no doubt be some political wrangling now that the churches of the Theocratic States have lost so much, and are potentially being reformed. If laws against the Tetrarchy change, the Imperial Cult might make something of a come-back.

My Favourite Bits

Strabo’s Trial and Coup. The court victory felt thoroughly earned, and the fight across Port CS afterward was dramatic and engaging. And that end fight was epic and also a little bit hilarious. (Remember the polymorphed giant pistol shrimps?)

Ascending Silvercap. An epic push to the top of the mountain. An epic boss fight that had a variety of foes and also a bit of a puzzle element with the disenchanting. Capped off by a stand-off between Flutter and Cyrus/Xanaphia. And some genuinely risky and consequential choices/rolls made by Cyrus.

Silvercap Mega-dungeon. This was an experiment using DungeonDraft. It was a big dungeon to explore, classic D&D style, but with some puzzles and a story that was revealed by exploration.

The Moon. Such a dangerous, alien place. And I loved the party’s conflict at the end with exploring the depths of the permanent shadow.

Rapid Rivers Mine. The jaunt into the Underdark was fun. But I especially liked the horror-movie vibe of the start of that section of play.

Vinalia A chance for the party to relax and RP. Not heroic, not driving the story along, but well worth it. Vinalia was my favourite “beach episode”, but I also enjoyed the Fisherman Festival at Port CS and the festival right before the false moon was revealed.

The Play. An outstanding success. Even with Tumbleclick trying to assassinate Myra.

The final battle against Strabo was chaotic. At the pictured moment, Flutter and Trystan hold off legionnaire reinforcements. Clever Clover fights Strabo’s right-hand-man Lepidus. Garo (glowing with some paladin buff) fights the Imperial Cult arcane trickster Claudius Ensis. Ezekial duels Strabo, while his daughter Katarina watches on.

Linearity

Of Campaign Story

My philosophy was to let the players drive the story, provided they told me in-advance their plans, and never changed direction suddenly. To this end, I’d ask them at the end of each session what they planned to do next. It could be motivated in-character or out-of-character.

This worked well, I think. There were times the story took a turn that I wasn’t anticipating.

Example: Magnus Strabo, the evil general and mid-game BBEG, was waging a brutal crackdown on the people of Cantia. The players wanted him stopped. I was thinking they’d maybe gather some allies and confront him on the field in a battle. What they did instead was follow a lead about possible crimes he committed. This led to the Port CS story arc, which was at least half a legal thriller and court-room drama. It worked, though; they drew him away from his crackdown and revealed him for the villain he was.

I had vague ideas floating in my head for longer-term story arcs, but these were very fluid. Figures like Strabo and Charun weren’t dreamt up too much earlier than their first metion. I genuinely feel that I would’ve been open to have the story taken almost anywhere. (As long as it was at least semi-heroic.) With different player input, the story may have gone in a totally different direction.

Of Individual Sessions

On a granular level I feel the individual sessions were a bit linear. A series of encounters/scenes/challenges that really only had one way through.

There were a few notable exceptions that could be approached however the players wanted:

Fort Nelissa, where the party infiltrated with a combination of stealth, deception, magic, and hidden marksman kobold.

Tumbleclick’s headquarters. Finding a way in to the hidden guild base, then dealing with those inside.

The “mega-dungeon” under Silvercap Mountain.

I think partly the system is to blame for my too-linear adventures. I spoke above how The Adventuring Day can necessitate encounters be crammed in. Partly, though, it’s simply easier to make non-sandbox adventures.

Going forward I want a healthier mix of the two. This is probably the biggest “style change” I have in mind for whatever I do next. I am hoping a system like Pathfinder 2e gives me flexibility to make non-combat encounters fun, and to be able to have just one or two combat encounters without it being a balance issue.

The party battle the monks of Tiger’s Nest monastery, and their summoned elementals.

Enjoyment

Overall? It was a lot of fun.

Think of your favourite actual-play RPG series or podcast; or at least the reputation of one. I think this campaign was as good as that. The only things we lacked?

We’re hobbyists, so real life had to take priority. Disruptions were inevitable.

We’re hobbyists, so we lacked the talents of actors or voice artists.

We’re hobbyists, so we couldn’t buy expensive microphones, fancy miniatures, hand-crafted battle sets, etc.

But we had what matters:

Enthused players, creating a shared-story experience.

Enthused players, knowing rules (or willing to learn) and enjoying the game-mechanic side of things.

Friendly players, who were generally fun to hang around with.

Diligent players, who showed up every session on-time. (Or as near enough as real life allows.)

Very few campaigns last the “full run” like ours did. Most fizzle out or fall apart before any kind of satisfactory conclusion is had. In some ways we’re lucky, but mostly it’s because we all put the effort in.

#Adventures in Lyria #Dungeons and Dragons #Tabletop role-playing game

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saessenach · 3 years

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Hi! For the ask thing, top 5 missmungoe's fics and top 5 One Piece villains?

Love your art!

Hi, nonnie!!

I'm afraid it's been a minute since I've been up to date with One Piece, so both questions will be more or less based around @missmungoe and her incredible, swashbuckling Odyssey-retelling (although let's be real, Odysseus could never) honest-to-god multi-verse Shanties 😊

Top 5 OP Villains

1. Blackbeard (love him, love the parallels to Luffy and Shanks, love his ominous intro and the way he's thematically relevant to a T)

2. Akainu (love to hate him, he is terrible, I hope he gets w r e c k e d, and that whoever takes him down has a marvellous time while at it)

3. That one guy from Film Gold bc he was hella compelling and he had style, but I forget his name. He was extra gaudy and that wins points from me

4. Gold Lion Shiki (I think??? From Strong World, because the last few films have been really good - worldbuilding-wise and narratively speaking, and it's been fun to dip my toes back into the story without having to tackle several hundred chapters)

5. TBH I've only rewatched properly up until Arabasta, so the villains I have Opinions on are Arlong, Croc, Captain Kuro and mayyyybe Rob Lucci and his gang, but I have no idea what's happened with them since, if they've gotten their own arcs like Buggy, or whether we're friends with them or not, so I'll leave it at that.

(An honorary mention to the slavemonger Celestial Dragon from the latest chapter of Mnemosyne, because he was awful, incredibly well-written and made me want to hurl my phone against the wall)

(So now onto the fun part)

Top 5 missmungoe fics

1. Heed the Siren's Call and Sailor's Folly (technically cheating as they are separate stories, yes, but when I reread one, I also immediately reread the other, so imo, it's only fair. Siren was a favourite I first read years ago on ff.net while it was being written, and which I happened across again in 2017 on ao3, and it's never been the same!! When I say it's life-changing literature, I mean it, because how many stories can claim to grow up and change right alongside you? I just have a lot of love for it, and I am this 🤏 close to taking a bookbinding class and having my way with it)

2. Penelope (the amount of times I've read and reread this is truly embarrassing, and that number has more digits than I care to admit - but I am a sucker for weddings which tell tradition to f right off, tiny brides giving voice to their anger at the world and bridegrooms smitten straight out of their ugly ass sandals. This is my comfort read.)

3. Mnemosyne (is the herculean, show-stopping, incredible slow-burn of my dreams and just - wow, it literally takes Oda's worldbuilding and makes it immeasurably richer and better. If for nothing else, then read it for Hancock and her friendship to Makino, for the INTRICACY given to the Amazons, for the way it breathes life into every single place the cast visits, and ties in over-arching themes from canon with details so fucking brilliant, you just sort of stare dumbly at your screen because of course they should be there. There are so many different POVs, and so many intersecting threads that make up this huge-ass tapestry I am continuously in awe of, because it's not just the HEART-ACHE INDUCING marvel of a love story, it's the Red-Hair crew's shenanigans, and the Straw-Hats' incapacity to stay put, it's Rowan's adventure, it's Hancock and her people getting the quality writing they DESERVE, it's the ASL reunion which made me cry, and a found family which spans oceans and realms of existence and everything in-between)

4. Andromeda Unbound (the SWASHBUCKLING UNDERCOVER EXTRAVAGANZA! The one where everyone and their mother separately shows up to crash Shanks' execution, complete with narrow misses, over-the-top banquets, Leverage heist music and so many good reunions. A big, fat and incredibly Extra(tm) middle-finger to propriety and saintly lawful systems, and just, so much fun to read)

5. Time for the ties lol - I still can't believe the Unspeakable 30 year fic and the subsequent AU in which Shanks crashes Makino's wedding are a thing, but I just love that miniseries a lot. Somewhere on this spot are also Moon and Her Maiden (for being ridiculously atmospheric), Bind me to the Tide (uhh, the coolest and also most painful soulmate AU for them, with Makino being very much against her intended, Shanks dealing with period cramps from Hell and just overall being Very Good for my Heart) and, of course Peony and Silver (ROGER. Shakky sweeping Rayleigh off his feet. ROGER. More over-arching themes, as usual. Have I mentioned, perhaps, ROGER? Just to be safe.)

Oh, and an honourable mention for Charybdis as it single-handedly (😌) dragged me out of the biggest art-block I've ever had, and I've rarely cried this much when reading fic.

Hope these answers are satisfying, nonnie!! Thank you for the lovely compliment, and for giving me an opportunity to gush about one of my favourite series ♡

#asks #answered #anonymous #op

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turinn · 3 years

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A Night Out

Mammon x GN!Reader

Summary: Mammon discovers a club holding a night to celebrate human culture, and decides maybe his human could use a little of that. Fluff, alcohol consumption, cuddling, Satan being a bastard at the end. A/N: This is my first Obey Me fic!! I’ll admit, I don’t know Mammon that well as he’s not one of my best boys, and I’m not even sure where the idea for this came from. It just popped into my mind, and I’m not one to turn down inspiration. I can’t make promises for characterisation, but I tried my best! Also I know literally nothing about nightclubs I just made shit up sorry.

"Hey, MC!! Open up will ya?" You groaned, pulling yourself out of bed. Mammon better have a damn good reason for nearly knocking your door down at... okay it was only 8PM, but still! Sometimes you just wanted an early night. You probably should've learned by now that that was far too much to ask in this house. You paid no mind to the fact that you were in your pyjamas, or the fact that they weren't the most modest of clothes. It was a warm night, so it didn't even register in your mind that you would be showing Mammon far more than he bargained for when you tugged the door open and glared at him. "What is it, Mammon? I don't have any money." His cheeks tinted pink at the sight of you, but the last comment brought his composure back just fine. "Why d'ya have to assume I'm after money? I'm here to do something nice and ya throw it in my face!" You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, though your interest was piqued. "It's a fair assumption, isn't it? Anyway, what do you want, then? I was about to sleep." "At 8PM? Laaaaame. Listen, when ya hear what I have to say, ya won't be worrying about sleep!" Mammon grinned at you, taking a few seconds to realise that your silence was an indicator for him to continue. "There's this club having some kind of event- ain't the kind of place I'd usually be seen dead in but apparently theres some kind a' market for human culture here, an' they're capitalising on it. Figured ya might be interested." His grin only got wider, he looked so proud of himself for thinking this up. Truth be told, it did interest you, if only to find out what exactly demons trying to hold an event based on 'human culture' looked like. Considering the sheer size and diversity of humanity and it's culture, creating anything both inclusive and cohesive sounded borderline impossible. You nodded, shutting the door and reappearing a few minutes later fully dressed. Mammons cheeks seemed to get even pinker, though he would never acknowledge it. Your club attire was vastly different from your casual wear, and he had not been expecting you to look so good. "Coming...?" The question seemed to bring his brain back into his body, causing him to realise you'd walked past him and were waiting at the top of the stairs.

The walk there was pleasant, warm evenings in the devildom were often quite nice, and spending time with Mammon when he wasn't scheming or trying to scam someone was something you'd grown to enjoy. Hopefully, things would stay that way.

The club in question was tucked away down an alley, honestly a little skeevy-looking, and you couldn't help but think that if Lucifer saw Mammon bring you here you'd be greeting him hanging upside down the next morning. Luckily for both of you, it was just the two of you. Before long you had a drink in your hand, though you couldn't identify it just from looking. A quick sip told you it was your favourite, and you briefly wondered how Mammon knew what drink you tended to go for when you went to clubs back home.

Honestly, you had to give the club its due. They seemed dedicated to making sure your senses weren't too thoroughly abused- the lights were bright enough to see while dim enough to keep the atmosphere and the colours changed often, but they weren't harsh at all and the music was loud but not deafening- and indeed to the theme. While most nightclubs around the world had similarities, the club had seemingly gone out of its way to at least represent some different cultures. All of them would be near impossible, but you hadn't been anticipating much of an attempt at all. The songs played varied in both language and genre, while keeping the upbeat tempo generally expected in a club; the drinks menu, which was extensive, offered an almost flooringly wide range. Given you'd been expecting some trussed up version of a generic western nightclub- something no different to any place in London you'd pay out your ears to get into only to leave an hour later because the music was shit, or some drunkard had tried to steal your phone- this was rather impressive. You grinned at Mammon as a song you knew and loved came on, and dragged him out to dance with you. With the drink not yet kicking in, you weren't as bold as you could be, and stood a few feet away from him, singing along quietly while you danced. Mammon really, really wanted to dance with you properly. His hands on your hips, you smiling at him, preferably leading to your lips on his a little later on- but admitting that? That he wanted to dance with a human? That that was his entire reason for even bringing you here? Never. He had a reputation to uphold! He was in luck, though. A few drinks in and another song you absolutely adored and you were all over him. Or at least, thats how he’d tell the story in future. In truth, you'd simply stepped close enough to him that he got the hint and put his hands on your waist, hoping the lighting was low enough that you wouldn't notice his blush. From this close, the grin on your face was even more brilliant, your laughter and occasional gentle singing reaching his ears easier, and... well, he thought everything about you was beautiful. Not that you'd ever hear it from him.

As the night wound down and the alcohol started to make you more sleepy than anything else, you hooked your hand in his and dragged him home. Your cheeks were still red from the drinks and exertion when you stepped into the light of the House of Lamentation, and the notes of tiredness he could spot in your eyes somehow added to your overall cuteness. Kissing you was pretty much the only thing on his mind as you turned to him and thanked him for the evening, but before he could make his move you'd turned back and headed up the stairs, hand still in his. He noted it was his room you made a beeline for, not yours, and the two of you collapsed onto his bed in unison- which made the fact that you somehow ended up lying on top of him super odd, but he wasn't about to complain. "I had a really good time tonight. Thank you, Mammon." "'Course ya did, you were with me." Your soft giggle was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. "Hey... this was a date, right?" Sincerity and hope filled your eyes as you waited for an answer, and his heart clenched. Did you want this to be a date? "I mean... if that's what ya wanna think then sure, it was a date." That blinding grin graced your features once again and you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, doing the same to his other when he didn't pull away. His eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but you as he flushed, and it wasn't until he made eye contact with you again a few moments later that you finally planted one on his lips. Were this some corny romcom, he might've said he felt like he'd somehow ended up back in the celestial realm (he'd never admit he was thinking it), for all the joy that filled him when you did so. He stuttered for a moment when you pulled back, but you gave him no time to begin boasting to save face before you settled into his arms and let sleep overtake you. Mammown as more than happy to join you, a soft smile gracing his features. His human was so cute.

Waking up the next morning, his D.D.D had blown up with notifications from the House of Lamentation group chat. Just his luck that the reason for such activity happened to be a picture of the two of you sleeping that Satan had snapped earlier. He'd have to have words with his little brother about respecting boundaries and learning to knock. (The hypocrisy of such a lecture was lost on him.)

#♣writing #🌙. by me #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #mammom x mc #obey me mammon #mammon obey me

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winterinhimring · 3 years

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Character Meme: Horatio Hornblower

Nobody tagged me but I’m doing this anyway because one evening it just came into my head as a fully formed post.

Favourite thing about him:

The times that he lets his iron self-control slip and we get a glimpse at the sweet, dorky, excitable nerd that he is on the inside, like the scene in Commodore where he starts jumping up and down on the quarterdeck because he’s so excited that his bomb-ketch hit what it was aiming at.

Also the hilarious contrast between his demeanour on the outside (as seen in Lieutenant Hornblower) and his constant internal screaming.

Three things we have in common:

The ability to get into an intellectual tailspin when worried

The impulse to beat our emotions back with a stick

An interest in celestial navigation

Three things we don’t have in common:

I’m obviously not a ship’s captain

I’m not British

I’ve never been in prison

Favourite line:

Miniseries: “Wolfe, why must you speak when you have nothing to say?”

Movie: “Ha----hm!” (aka the lawnmower noise he makes upon seeing Lady Barbara for the first time)

OTP: Barbara Wellesley

Why: First off, Barbara is awesome. Competent, confident, and with a personality strong enough to match Horatio himself (not an easy feat). Second, they’re so darn good for each other. She and H are both proud, stoic people who are not big fans of emotions in general, much less of admitting to other people that they have them, but they’re both willing to lower their barriers and humble themselves for each other because they’re so much in love. Which they are; it’s adorable. She’s also pretty much the only person who can reliably get him out of his head when he’s brooding.

brOTP: William Bush (also Archie Kennedy if we’re including the show)

Why: They have such a good friendship, at least by Hornblower’s standards, since he is a hot mess who has no idea how to be friends. They both covertly admire each other’s character but neither will ever tell the other so, Bush because Hornblower wouldn’t listen and Hornblower because he is, as mentioned above, an awkward mess. Bush is unfailingly loyal and thinks of his captain as anything from a son to a brother, and Hornblower, for all his inability to show it, returns that loyalty with equal fidelity.

nOTP: William Bush

Why: First, because I love their friendship as a friendship. They’re brothers-in-arms, capable of great tenderness but usually reserved, and that relationship doesn’t need to be romantic to be deeply fulfilling. There aren’t enough deep platonic friendships in literature today and theirs is such a good one that I don’t like turning it into a romance because there’s already plenty of romance out there. Second, because the military power structures and H’s general rudeness, while they don’t get in the way of the friendship too much (because Bush is a saint, which is a post for another time), make a romantic relationship (in my opinion) a bit disturbing.

Random Headcanon:

Barbara shares Horatio’s habit of semi-adopting his younger officers (those who survive a tour of duty with him anyway), and she keeps in touch with several of them even after they’ve been promoted away from Horatio’s commands, and follows their careers. Occasionally she’ll surprise Horatio with a dinner party made up of his adopted sons.

Unpopular opinion: see nOTP

Songs I associate with him:

The miniseries theme, of course!

Favourite pictures of him, except these are gifs:

Miniseries version:

Movie version (who doesn’t get enough love in my opinion):

Tagging @musewrangler, @mathmusic8, @fyeahmeninroyalnavy, and @hopelessdreamer80 with the caveat that I have only the faintest idea how this is really supposed to work.

#hornblower #hhornblower #horatio hornblower #william bush #archie kennedy #barbara wellesley #winter says things #meta #character meme

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still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years

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OBEY ME! LESSON 55 DETAILED SUMMARY AND DISCUSSION/THEORIES

*I wrote this days after the lesson was first posted and never bothered to go back and edit it so meaning there will be me theorizing about the next lesson as well

*I write a small para for each chapter and I write it immediately after finishing that chapter so there’ll be theorizing about the next chapter too

*I swear more than usual here

*Some of the dialogue is heavily plagiarized and a few is lifted directly from the story, the game is to figure which is which.

*Summaries and Discussions/theories for all the other lessons can be found on this blog under #obey me spoilers or #my theories or #my headcanons

OKAY! So first off the background for this is absolutely gorgeous and shows a real demon. You know the kind you’d imagine an actual demon to look like and everything’s dark (black, grey, brown) there’s a castle on a mountain like area with a narrow suspended pathway leading to it, there are crows flying around and a person in a robe pointing what looks like a lit wand at a snarling attacking demon, there are skulls and what looks like weapons on the ground and my favourite part: a person in a long robe, kneeling on the ground, covering the top of their face with their hands and wailing to the sky. It’s all tailor made to my taste and I love it! There’s one locked lesson.

It’s breakfast time and Asmo & Beel are heading to an all you can eat global sweet sampler, MC questions it and Asmo says you can get desserts from all over the world there and Asmo’s hoping to live stream it. Asmo invites MC but Mammon interjects asking them to come see “cute horsies” with him. “’Horsies.’ He’s so pretentious. Shut up, it’s the fucking horse race. ‘Horsies.’” Says Levi. Levi invites MC to a real life TSL themed escape room (that sounds really fun tbh), Satan invites them to come watch the sci-fi movie they were talking about, in their home theatre. (he’s actually watched it 3 times already but he read online theories about it and now he wants to see if he can catch the basis for those theories in the movie). They all start arguing about it (except Beel who’s just eating) when MC gets a text from Diavolo congratulating them on their 5th star and wishing them luck for the other 2 and inviting them to an amusement park date. Everyone – MC included – is kind of baffled by the one on one date with Diavolo. They ask any of the others if they want to tag along but they all refuse but Beel asks if MC can take Belphie along since he hasn’t really left the house in a while and Beel’s worried. MC texts asking if they can bring Belphie along too and Diavolo says the more the merrier and I just know this is gonna end in disaster like did Belphie ever even resolve all the problems he had with Diavolo back in S1?

Beel drags Asmo along to wake Belphie up because a.) he doesn’t want Asmo to leave to the sweets thing without him b.) they need all the help they can get to wake him up. MC suggests using force and Asmo happily volunteers to grab Belphie, turn him over and drop him on the ground, Beel says they can’t do this to poor Belphie cause Beel’s a sweetheart, and says the most force he’ll allow them to use is by tickling Belphie, which Asmo then does. It doesn’t work so Asmo says if they’re gonna use force they should do something like this right before he screams “ASMO DIIIIIIVE!!!” and jumps on top of Belphie as Beel protests and I love that despite what you’d assume from his aesthetic and despite what Asmo would like you to believe he’s a lot more rough and tumble and violent (I just really love the sweet with hidden edges trope as much as I love the jerk with a gooey centre trope). Belphie says ow and Asmo brightly and sweetly cheers that he woke up as if just seconds ago he hadn’t used a wrestling move on his sleeping baby brother. Beel says that though Belphie’s body is awake his mind isn’t (relatable), Beel fixes Belphie’s bedhead and Asmo complains that Belphie’s a stereotypical spoilt brat youngest child and says that Diavolo obviously would’ve wanted a one on one day with MC. Beel says he knows and it’s another reason he wanted Belphie to go. Asmo agrees saying that after everything if MC chooses their boss over any one of the seven guys MC actually lives with it’d feel wrong. Asmo tells Belphie to keep an eye on them and not let it turn into a “whirlwind romance”, Belphie just asks for his pillow and Asmo’s upset cause he doesn’t feel confident about the plan now. Poor Diavolo being constantly cockblocked

On the way Belphie complains about being forced to do this when his schedule is just as busy but MC says all he does is sleep and he says because naps are important to him and he takes them seriously. He wishes he could go back home and asks why of all the demons he had to be stuck with Diavolo (so guess those issues are still around good to know). MC asks if he still dislikes Diavolo cause of his fondness for humans and Belphie says he’s fully gotten over that whole human genocide phase which is great to have confirmed. They ask why he dislikes Diavolo – lots of reasons. He always thinks he’s right and expects to get his way about anything and everything and never listens to anyone’s opinions. He hadn’t bothered to listen to Belphie back when the exchange program had been proposed and Belphie was against it (and I mean to be fair back then Belphie was 100% okay with killing the entire human race for no reason other than the fact that he blamed them for Lilith’s death when really they had nothing to do with it and it was definitely the angels’ fault. I mean I don’t think I would have listened to him either and he really does have the spoilt youngest kid personality. I think out of all the brother’s Belphie’s the one who has the fondest memories of the Celestial Realm – probably helped by the fact that Lilith was still alive then – which is why he never blamed them for what happened and instead directed all his anger at the humans) Lucifer hadn’t let Belphie plead his case (what case Belphie!? That all humans should die!?) and that Diavolo’s surrounded by demons like Barbatos and Lucifer who shield him from criticism (and yeah I agree that this is true and that it’s a bad thing but Lucifer wasn’t shielding Diavolo from criticism when he refused to let Belphie plead his case, he was protecting Belphie cause if Diavolo found out Belphie wanted to kill humans he would have thrown him in jail like he did back at the end of S1 and MC you dumb fuck can you pls tell all this to Belphie) and that Diavolo doesn’t understand that he’s been saved from criticism and Belphie hates that about him and he shudders at the thought of spending the day with Diavolo. On the way they run into Simeon and tell him where they’re going, he says Luke’s been wanting to go there since he saw a ad for it and MC says they could take Luke along with them but he says Luke’s at a cooking class today but that he’d probably love to hear about it when he gets back. Simeon then takes off saying he has a meeting. Belphie goes to call after Simeon to tell him something and catches a glimpse of the person Simeon was supposed to meet. He’s surprised and says “Is that…” and when MC asks what’s wrong he said he must have just imagined it and that the person Simeon was meeting just looked really familiar and HOLY SHITTTTTTT GUYSSS rfhiefjoSJKWDLDADJSJ was I right are we really gonna get to see angels???? That’s the only explanation, right? It would have had to be Michael or even Raphael and there’s only a few lessons left and this and the next lesson are probably gonna focus on Diavolo and Belphie’s relationship and following the patter MC should get their 6th star next lesson, then the two lessons after that will be their final exam for the 7th star and then the last two lessons will focus on saying goodbye as the brothers go back to the Devildom and all that’s gonna have a lot going on but if they’re teasing the angels being here now could they manage to slip them in or will that be too much? I mean they’ll be introducing a whole new (or two whole new) character(s) and ahhh I’m rambling but pls I need the tension and angst between them and the brothers ok I’m done.

When they get there Belphie complains about how crowded it is and MC tries to look for Diavolo to which Belphie points to a group of fangirls surrounding Diavolo. Diavolo answers them sweetly and one of them says he’s even better looking irl and another shyly asks if he wants to walk around with them. Belphie cuts that short by barging in and asking Diavolo what’s going on, Diavolo happily greets Diavolo and one of the girls realises that Belphie called Diavolo ‘lord’. Diavolo apologises to them and said he’s already made plans with friends (and ugh he’s so sweet I love him just wanna give him a big hug I bet he gives great hugs), the girls are very understanding and sweet about it and they leave. Belphie’s a lil shit and says “Aww, too bad, Lord Diavolo. I’d hate to interrupt just as they were hitting on you…” and Diavolo laughs it off saying it wasn’t like that (and can Diavolo not understand sarcasm or does he just ignore it? Both seem highly likely) Belphie disagrees and says they were clearly hitting on him and Diavolo changes the subject and says he can’t believe Belphie actually came, MC explains why and Diavolo says it’s understandable that Beel was worried after Belphie hadn’t left the house in a week (Me, who hasn’t left the house in almost a year: :’) ) Belphie says he knows Diavolo wanted a date with MC but too bad cause now Belphie’s gonna third wheel them. Diavolo tells Belphie not to be ridiculous and that he’s happy that Belphie came (and the thing is other than a small twinge of disappointment this is probably the truth). Belphie says that it probably won’t be a good idea to go around calling him “Lord” Diavolo given the way the girls reacted, Diavolo says he can just call him by his name since he wouldn’t mind but Belphie says he himself would mind and anyway if Lucifer or Barbatos found out Belphie wasn’t using his proper title they’d kill him. So Belphie suggests a nickname which Diavolo’s really happy about and MC suggests DD (they can also suggest John or Cap’n), Diavolo adores it and asks them to call him it all the time hereafter (I want to give him a hug so badly). Diavolo then happily and with lots of exclamation points goes on to say that it’s time to let their hair down and that Barbatos had made minute to minute schedule for them to follow so that they could enjoy the park to the fullest and Belphie says he wants to go home

Diavolo keeps unsuccessfully trying to get Belphie to wear a themed headband and take a group photo, saying he also wants to wear the headband on a boat ride and the ferris wheel. Diavolo gives MC sad puppy dog eyes (which I’m sure he uses successfully on Lucifer regularly, but that don’t affect Barbatos at all) and MC can’t refuse, asking Belphie if there’s anything that’ll get him to change his mind. He says no but he’s not stopping the others from doing it, Diavolo says since they’re here as a group they all should do it, Belphie snaps saying he doesn’t like how Diavolo’s using MC as a tool to bend Belphie to his will and he says he’s going home. Diavolo tries to stop him but he marches off and Diavolo drags MC off to chase after Belphie. Diavolo grabs Belphie by the arm outside the park and begs for a chance to apologize, Belphie denies it and tries to free his arm. Diavolo refuses to let him go saying he should have listened to and considered Belphie’s opinions now as well as in the past, Belphie’s shocked and MC asks Belphie to just hear Diavolo out. He agrees but tells them not to have any expectations of what this’ll accomplish.

Belphie says he doesn’t want to wear the headband or take pics and that he’s only gonna ride what he wants to, Diavolo agrees with all that. He asks if Belphie will stay with them and Belphie agrees and Diavolo is just so brightly stupidly happy and I can completely understand how he was able to make Lucifer question his entire world view. Diavolo’s so happy he starts waving Belphie’s arm around unconsciously and then asks Belphie what rides he wants to go on as they make their way back inside, Belphie doesn’t answer instead he’s blushing and annoyed and asks Diavolo to let go of his hand. Belphie wants to ride ‘The Twisting Freefall of Death II’, MC & Diavolo would like to not freefall to their death thank you very much. Belphie quotes the ride as being, “the single most terrifying experience in the world where you’ll scream for mercy and receive none” Diavolo says, “Did you say scream for mercy…” Belphie happily agrees. Diavolo turns to his last hope, MC, and asks how they feel about this. I like to imagine that even MC has a line where their lacking self-preservation will kick in. Belphie just smiles saying it won’t actually kill them (this would have been more reassuring coming from someone who didn’t once murder MC but whatever.) They can also ask Diavolo how feels about it. After the ride Belphie’s cackling loudly and gushing about how great it was. He’s especially happy about the look on Diavolo’s face during the ride, saying he’s never seen it before (probably the look of a demon praying to God for mercy). MC can say that Belphie seemed to be having a lot of fun, cheer how the ride was the best or say they thought they were going to die. For the 3rd option Belphie very cheerfully says MC’s alive and ok. Belphie asks Diavolo how it was only to realise Diavolo’s missing. He fell off the ride at its highest peak. He’s dead.

They’ve tried texting Diavolo but he doesn’t read them. Belphie wonders what kind of person actually gets lost in an amusement park unless they’re 5. Then he says “…is that what it is? Is he actually 5 yrs old?” He remembers that mammon got lost in a park once too and says the only thing the two of them have in common is that they’re both basically children, They then run into my favourite character in the entire game – the butcher (is2g this man needs to become a recurring side character) who is here with his wife and daughter. He asks them if the rest of the harem is here too and Belphie lets him know that unfortunately they’re here with a new inductee who got lost. The butcher offers to help and asks for a description. MC says he’s the owner of the corvo hotel chain and the butcher wonders who the fuck are these people in the first place to know someone like that and then because the butcher’s the sweetest person alive he too starts worrying about diavolo, scared that he might have gotten kidnapped. Belphie says “there’s no one in the human world oh shit I mean THE WORLD. THE NORMAL WORLD ALL US HUMANS - BECAUSE WE ALL ARE HUMANS - LIVE IN” the butcher now probably used to how weird this cult is (because they definitely are a satanic cult with their extremely obvious demon names, how weird and unused to normal life they are, 7 of them being obviously infatuated by the eighth one but the butcher’s not gonna bring this up cause with the amount of meat they buy from him he could keep his family afloat for years AND pay for his daughters college tuition) ignores this and says he hasn’t seen Diavolo but advices them to check the information desk and ask them to page Diavolo over the loudspeakers. They thank him and Belphie promises to stop by with Beel later, the butcher says he’ll see him then and tells them to take care (I love this man). Barbatos text MC asking how they’re doing and which itinerary of his they’re following cause yes apparently he made more than one and telling them he trusts them to take care of diavolo (and I can’t believe it took me this long to realise Barbatos is a helicopter parent). MC leaves him on read. Lucifer then texts them saying Satan told him where they’d gone and telling them that since the two of them are with Diavolo he assumes he’s okay but just to clarify make sure nothing happens to Diavolo. MC leaves him on read. Belphie says that Barbatos and Lucifer are way too overprotective. Barbatos and MC then realise how fucked they are if either of them find out that they’ve lost diavolo and so decide to skip the whole loudspeaker thing.

They can decide if they want to check by the lake, the ferris wheel or the last ride they went in. He’s not at the lake and they choose to take a boat across the lake to get to the ferris wheel cause it’s faster than going around it. Belphie actually enjoys the boat ride and asks if the two of them can just enjoy themselves together for a bit instead of looking for Diavolo, MC says “I’m worried about Diavolo also can you not remember how fucked we are if we don’t find him”. Belphie gets jealous that MC seems to care more about Diavolo than him (they’re just been practical! If the roles were reversed they’d have shut Diavolo down to look for you!) and says that even they have a real soft spot for Diavolo (He’s like a giant golden retriever!!). There’s an announcement over the loudspeaker for MC and ‘Snoozy’ saying that DD’s waiting for them at the info desk. Belphie’s not happy about ‘snoozy’ (understandable)

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pendragyn · 3 years

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Darkness and Light

This is an excerpt of my WIP Ineffable Bastards (the entirety of chapter 3 lol) that I felt really fits with the 'Dark' and 'Light' themes of this year's Good Omens Celebration.

(sorry for the formatting errors, tumblr being tumblr. adding a readmore since it's 4k words, also the real angst is below the cut. Hopefully it works! if not you can read it all at AO3)

Chapter 3: Tuesday ∞ Unbinding

A brief stab of pain jolted Crowley awake, and they froze for a moment to get their bearings. The shop was wreathed in deep shadows, lit only by the lamp by Aziraphale’s desk, and the only sounds were of Aziraphale working on the manuscript and a clock ticking faintly in the dimness. The back of their neck tingled with uneasiness.

Ignoring the sensation, Crowley eased upright and bit back a curse, too distracted by the ache in their back to notice the pale tartan blanket they’d been tucked under. Ugh, is this couch made of rocks? They prodded at the cushion, but it was as lofty as the day they had miracled it into being some thirty years earlier. At least, they assumed it was still only thirty year ago. Just how long did I sleep for?

As they could both go days without shifting a muscle, only knowing it was night wasn’t a particularly useful metric. Crowley had slept for the better part of a century after all, though that had been on purpose, while this... They checked their watch, but couldn’t seem to focus on the face so checked their phone’s time instead, and still had to squint and rub at their eyes before the time and date finally swam into focus. Midnight. Just hours, not days.

They stood and stretched to try to relieve the ache in their back, but if anything that only made it feel worse. While demons might not be able to instantly heal themselves the way angels could, they did heal at a far faster rate than humans did, and weren’t exactly prone to chronic back pain, or any pain at all, if injury wasn’t involved. It was becoming obvious that something was very wrong, but Crowley still hesitated to bring it up.

Haven’t I dragged them through enough? They turned to watch Aziraphale, highlighted in the darkness by the glow from the lamp. They were wearing their favourite old cardigan instead of their coat, which was as informally dressed as Crowley ever saw them in recent memory, and looked like nothing more than the contented bookshop keeper they played at being. They looked serene, happy even, and utterly enthralled by their project.

Just tell them about the spells and go,Crowley decided. “Aziraphale?”

“Hmm?”

“How long ‘til you’re done?”

“Just… there, finished. Perhaps we could go get dinner at the café while things dry?” Aziraphale suggested hopefully, looking up from the manuscript and blinking a few times when they saw how dark it was. “Oh, I was at that a while, wasn’t I? Dreadfully sorry.”

Crowley shook their head at the apology. “It’s after midnight.”

“Oh, they’re long closed then. Well. Perhaps another time.” There was something in Crowley’s expression that made a lump of dread form in the bottom of Aziraphale’s stomach. They dragged their eyes away to focus on putting things away, not wanting to waste any of the precious materials through carelessness, while a million things clamoured in their mind to be said. It felt like everything was going wrong again and they hurried to fill the silence. “I do hope I did right in not waking you earlier? You seemed quite exhausted and…” I didn’t want you to go. Aziraphale swallowed the words down and gave Crowley a smile. “I do have to concede that you were right about today, well yesterday now, I suppose. It did turn out to be a rather good day after all.”

Crowley blinked, taken a little off guard by the admission, and tried to figure out how to broach the subject of the alarms. “Oh, er, yeah? I mean, yeah, it was good. But I, er-”

Aziraphale ploughed on, almost afraid to know what Crowley was going to say. “Having my hands occupied helps ground me, I’ve found, helps me sort through things that otherwise seem too big a mess. Not that we’re out of this mess, I know, but taking the time to let things settle really helps me put things into perspective. I just need a little breathing room sometimes and-”

“And alarms.”

Aziraphale looked up in confusion. “Alarms?”

“I mean, I, uh, I set up some alarms around the shop while you were working, to warn you, us, of intruders. Passive alarms,” Crowley hastened to assure the angel when they frowned, “nothing dangerous. Just… You know, in case.”

Aziraphale was momentarily at a loss for words. They felt it would be inexcusably rude to ask what had motivated Crowley to do such a thing, though that was the second thought that came to mind. First was just how nice kind an act it was. “I… that is, well, that, that was very kind of you. I hadn’t even considered, but I suppose it is best to be prepared for retaliation of some sort. But you… you’ll have to at least let me treat you to dinner to repay-”

“No.” Aziraphale’s face fell at the blunt denial but Crowley explained, “I mean it’s too late. Now. Tonight. But…” Crowley hesitated. Although things hadn’t gone the way they hadn’t even let themself admit to hoping for, they knew Aziraphale would want to help them if they needed it. Another sharp stab of pain decided them. Whatever they were dealing with, they had to deal with it soon, and the shop was not secure enough in it’s current state. “How would you feel about going to the flat? I’ve got plenty to tide us over and, I, uh, I’ve got something I need your opinion on.”

“Certainly.” Aziraphale quickly stood up and grabbed their coat, but made a token protest, wanting to give Crowley an out of their clearly impulsive offer. “But I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“’Snever an imposition, Aziraphale, to share a meal with you,” Crowley murmured, moving towards the door when Aziraphale looked up in surprise at their serious tone. “’Sides, you’ve been slouched at that desk too long.”

Aziraphale trailed along behind them and tried to puzzle out what was really going on. “As long as you’re quite sure, Crowley.”

“Always.” Crowley could see Aziraphale’s confusion but ignored it, slipping into the driver’s seat and clasping very tightly to the wheel while the angel got in the passenger’s side. The ache was getting worse and a headache was beginning to pound behind their eyes. Unsure what else to do, Crowley sped off towards the safety of the flat.

Aziraphale watched Crowley with a small frown of concern, but could tell from their expression that they weren’t in the mood to answer questions. As it was, the strange foreboding itchy ache in their back was distraction enough, and when a surreptitious healing failed to alleviate the sensation, a worrying thought popped up. If this isn’t a physical injury, then it must be metaphysical in nature. Could this be from what we did? From what happened? Did I… could I have absorbed some of Crowley’s… demon-ness while borrowing their corporeal form? Or been poisoned by some remnant of the hellfire? Or from just being in Hell at all? But that means-

Aziraphale risked a glance at Crowley. The demon pressed back against the cushion and shifted uncomfortably in their seat, like there was an itch along their spine that couldn’t be reached. -Heaven or the holy water or my angel-ness contaminated,poisoned, Crowley in the same way. Oh, oh no. I didn’t even think to do more than a cursory cleansing before we switched back! What to do, what to do? They whirled through a dozen ideas but just as quickly discarded them all as unless, a knot of grief forming over their heart.

There must be something! But nothing came to mind. They wiped at their stinging eyes, refusing to let the tears fall and returned to twisting the golden ring on their pinky, before they were struck by an idea. Maybe I can fix this.

“Hey.”

Aziraphale jumped when Crowley spoke, quickly shoving their balled up fists into their coat pockets, and tried to smile reassuringly when Crowley frowned. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Just wondering where you were. We’ve been parked for like five minutes.” Crowley tried to tease, to keep up appearances should anyone be observing, but the aching itch was making it almost impossible to think. Another stab of pain had Crowley pressing a hand to their throbbing tattoo with a hiss. When they pulled their hand away, there was a smear of blood on their fingers. Shit. Outta time.

Aziraphale’s heart dropped at the sight and they instantly reached out, but Crowley shook their head and shoved out of the car before they could attempt a healing. Aziraphale hurried after them, up to the flat, jumping a little when Crowley slammed the door shut behind them and set all the locks with a snap. “Crowley-”

Another jolt of pain sent Crowley reeling back against the door but they shook their head again when Aziraphale reached out to heal them, their bleak expression showing they also knew it wouldn’t be enough. They were out of options and the little voice said, Last chance to fix it. Now or never. Crowley pulled off their glasses and spoke the words they never thought they’d say again, to the only being they’d ever trusted enough to say them to. “I desire a boon, Aziraphale.” The Celestial words crackled with power in spite of the pain in Crowley’s voice.

Aziraphale couldn’t help the shocked gasp that escaped but didn’t hesitate to reply in kind. “Ask and be heard, Crowley, I attend you.”

There was so much that needed to be said, that Crowley desperately wanted to say but the ceremony didn’t allow for deviation and the pain was worsening. They stared into their best friend’s wide golden-green eyes and hoped they would understand. “I seek to mend all rifts and reforge our bond.”

After everything, they still… Aziraphale nodded, eyes stinging with tears, and it took a second to swallow down everything they couldn’t say to be able to say the proper response, “Such forged has lain quiescent but was never sundered. By our efforts combined shall these rifts be mended.”

It was never unspoken. They never broke it, even after... Crowley’s eyes burned with tears they’d been cursed to never let fall and they offered their hand in agreement. “Shoulder to shoulder?”

Mind brimming with words there was clearly no time left for, Aziraphale clasped Crowley’s hand and spoke the final phrase. “My wings to yours.”

Occult power swept through them, renewing the bond and knocking the breath from both of them. Unable to wait a second longer, Crowley bolted through the flat, stumbling into the spacious marble bathroom mortared with every type of magic against scrying and magical attacks and filled to the brim with all manner of tropical plants. Their own little replica of the Garden.

With a ragged gasp Crowley activated the spells and let their wings flash into being. The ink-dark feathers repelled the warm light shining down from the false sky-lights, and they flapped, once, twice, but neither the spells nor the movement did anything to ease the sensation that was going from searing itch to freezing ache. Desperate, feeling as though they were suffocating inside an icebox, they flung off their clothes and slapped on the water, wings spread wide as droplets began to pour from the ceiling.

Aziraphale paused only long enough to set a very unpleasant surprise by the door for anyone who tried to break in before following the sound of running water through the sparse bedroom to the gleaming bathroom. “Crowley?” They were horrified to find Crowley shivering under the downpour, hair and feathers drenched, blood seeping from the mark on their temple. They dashed to catch Crowley before they could collapse to the floor, unfurling their own wings to shelter them from the downpour. “Hold on! Talk to me!” Knowing it was futile Aziraphale tried another healing anyway, swearing when all that changed was the rapidly worsening ache in their own back and wings.

The sound Crowley made was both bitter laugh and heartbroken sob. “Sorry, angel. Guesss they found a way after all. Sssshould’ve known… they wouldn’t… let us get away.”

Aziraphale cradled Crowley close, shaking their head in denial, mind full of recriminations. Do something you stupid angel! Anything! But they couldn’t think past the pain of their heart breaking. “Crowley, please-”

“Never meant… t’hurt… you.” The burning frost was pervasive and growing, seeking the soul embedded within the living vessel that trembled from the freezing cold searing pain. It seeped through muscles and around bones, piercing eyes and lungs and heart, which failed under the onslaught.

“NO!” Aziraphale’s wail turned into a roar of rage and anguish when Crowley’s lovely eyes went dull and sightless. For the first time in six thousand years, Aziraphale didn’t hold back, didn’t toe the line, didn’t do what was expected of them, and power the colour of a bronze sword sharpened with noonlight coruscated around them and their rapidly greying wings. “You can’t take Crowley from me again! I won’t allow it!” Those quick clever hands darted towards the now obvious source of Crowley’s torment, into inky feathers gone heavy and grey with icy embers of sanctified hellfire. “Fuck. You. All.”

If either side had seen Aziraphale at that moment, they might have understood why they were the Guardian of the Eastern Gate.

Crowley was wreathed in pain and loneliness and despair, on the verge of losing themself to the agonizing emptiness, when a brilliant ray of golden-bronze light slashed through the void from a glimmering horizon that hadn’t existed until that moment. They wasted no time hurling themself towards the familiar shining beacon until it overwhelmed their senses with light, and eventually the light resolved itself into the fixture in the ceiling of their bathroom. They soon became aware of the feeling of Aziraphale’s hands raking urgently through their feathers and swamped with the terrible understanding that it was already too late, slurred, “Azsheraph, no...”

But Aziraphale was implacable and continued to extinguish the freezing embers clinging to Crowley’s feathers. “I must.” They ignored the pain of handling the sanctified hellfire and the building cold fire of Heaven’s unholy judgment, only giving in when they sensed the last of the embers vanish in a pathetic puff of smoke.

Crowley marshalled enough energy to move just in time to break Aziraphale’s fall. “Wha-, Aziraphale, did they-” The angel nodded, eyes pressed shut as a shudder passed through their failing body. “No no nononono.” Thoughts still muddled Crowley had sense enough to do one thing.

snap

Water, stopped, midair, crystalline and gleaming in the odd light of out-time.

Aziraphale reached up to press a shaking hand to Crowley’s right cheek, the tips of their fingers resting over the still bleeding hellish brand on Crowley’s temple. Too much left to say, to do, to make up for. Time enough for just one last thing...They stared into Crowley’s lovely eyes, irises blown wide with shock, and as their last desperate heartbeat passed, breathed out, “I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale was gone before Crowley could respond, having used the last of their power to remove the binding mark on Crowley’s temple, and Crowley’s face crumpled and contorted with fury and despair, eyes burning like a star gone nova. “You can’t leave me, you bassstard, not now, not after all thisss!” They called up power from the core of their being, power they didn’t even know they had, and dragged lightning-edged talons through Aziraphale’s ice-rimed feathers, shredding the unholy acidic coating while leaving the feathers untouched. “I won’t let you go! Not like this! Aziraphale! Don’t go! Stay, bless you, stay!” The words devolved into snarled half-spoken curses and pleas as their assault against the Heavenly whatever-the-hell-it-was escalated into a frenzy.

“Ha!” Crowley yelled with sense of triumph when the last of the shreds fell away and dissolved with a ‘pft’, but triumph vanished when Aziraphale’s eyes remained closed, and the fragile corporeal heart remained still, persisting only because of the timelessness of the moment. No no no no no, spiralled in Crowley’s mind as they kissed those blued lips, pushing breath and life back into the dying vessel, reaching with the entirety of their being into the accursed void that Aziraphale had just pulled them from, ready to follow them back into oblivion if need be. Aziraphale!

The crushing emptiness of the void that held Aziraphale was suddenly filled by welcoming darkness, lifting the hopeless despair that they were lost within. Crowley! A shimmering auroral veil unfurled and a hundred million distant lights glimmered into view, warm and gloriously alive, and they flew towards where they sensed Crowley until the darkness resolved into just the familiar dimness held beneath closed eyelids.

Time slammed back into place, no longer held at bay by Crowley’s exhausted power, and the former demon cursed and sputtered as the suddenly far-too-hot-for-comfort water poured over them. It took a bit of flailing around to turn off the taps and afterward Crowley sat slouched against the wall, wings half unfurled and quivering as they tried to catch their breath.

Aziraphale laid utterly still as they regained their senses, drained beyond anything they could ever recall. They finally found the energy to suck in a slow shuddering breath and croak, “Crowley?” A shuddering sob of relief escaped when Crowley took their hand.

“I’m here, Aziraphale.” The reformed angel’s eyes opened, revealing they had shifted to blue-green, and Crowley realized that drowning in them wasn’t half bad really, all things considered. The itch and that building sense of doom were finally gone. ”I’m still here.”

Aziraphale blinked to clear their vision, and took in the sight of poor bedraggled Crowley wilting listlessly against the tile wall. They looked about as bad as Aziraphale felt, but they were there, wonderfully, blessedly alive. “Glad to hear it. You had me quite worried my dear.”

Crowley couldn’t help but snort out a laugh and helped Aziraphale sit up when they struggled against clothes and wings saturated with water and the glutinous but inert ashy grey residue. “Yeah, same. I’ll be very cross with you if you ever do that again, angel.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale gave them an exhausted but triumphant smile. “But you started it.”

“Me?! I-! Wot-! You-!”

The fondly exasperated sputtering of a Celestial Serpent at a loss for words warmed Aziraphale’s heart as nothing else could, and laughter, joyous in a way the former angel realized they hadn’t felt in a very long time, bubbled up, silencing the former demon’s protests. “What would I ever do without you?”

“Don’t you even think about trying to find out!” Crowley scolded, voice breaking, and caught Aziraphale in a nearly-crushing hug. Aziraphale tiredly hugged them back and Crowley rested their forehead against Aziraphale’s for a moment before pulling away to glare. “You barmy bastard, what were you thinking!?”

“Couldn’t let you go, my dear. Very selfish of me, I’m afraid,” Aziraphale murmured, stunned to see tears running down Crowley’s face. “Had to try.”

“You feather-brained do-gooder, you died! You died and I couldn’t save you!” Crowley crushed them in another hug, only easing up when Aziraphale squeaked. “Sorry, sorry-”

“But you did save me,” Aziraphale whispered, needing to tell Crowley what had happened, feeling the memory already beginning to fade. “It was so painful and dark and cold. It was beyond darkness, beyond… I was so afraid, so alone.”

Crowley held them tight, heart breaking. My fault. “Aziraphale...”

Tears welled, offset by a fond smile. “But a million stars exploded into being and I was in the Garden, and I sensed you and I wasn’t afraid any more.” Aziraphale stroked a finger over Crowley’s nearest wing-edge, considering as bits of sodden ash flaked away and disintegrated into nothingness. “I heard you call my name.” Another gentle touch, more ash dropping away from inky feathers that seemed to have gained an odd sheen. “My wings to yours. Always.”

Crowley frowned, pulling away from Aziraphale’s touch, unable to deal with the feelings those words and gentle caresses were stirring up. “C’mon, let’s get you warmed up.” Crowley banished their wings back into the astral plane with a spatter of displaced ash and water and the slight frown on Aziraphale’s face melted into a surprised gasp when Crowley lifted them up.

“I can walk.” Aziraphale held on tightly to Crowley’s shoulders and banished their own wings, though it took far more effort than usual. “...Probably.”

“You’re exhausted. And you just died to save me. Let me do this for you,” said Crowley gruffly, only moving towards the bedroom when Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley gently set Aziraphale down by the bed. “Let me tend your feathers, eh?” they urged, shrugging into a certain plush robe under Aziraphale’s heavy-lidded stare before carefully helping them from their ruined clothes. “Made rather a mess of them, I’m afraid.”

Aziraphale didn’t have much will to resist temptation. What had happened on Sunday felt like a dream, a lifetime ago, and it had been so very long since Crowley had helped care for their wings... It had only ever been Crowley. They nodded as Crowley helped them into the nightshirt they’d used just a few nights earlier, and bundled them under the covers and clicked on the electric blanket. “T’would be lovely, thank you.”

Crowley clicked off the lights, grabbed a towel and once they had unfurled their wings, started gently grooming the grimy feathers, smirking as Aziraphale went boneless with a heavy sigh. “Relax any more and you might just fall asleep for once,” Crowley teased, but there was an ache over their heart. It had been a very long time since they had allowed themself to tend Aziraphale, and after the all too brief interlude before they’d gone to play with fire, Crowley had feared they’d never have the chance to do it again.

“Mmm,” Aziraphale hummed in agreement, too tired to even bother with full sentences any more. Apparently dying took a lot out of a being, once the adrenaline wore off. “Feels lovely. Hadn’t had them out... since forty-one.”

Since the church, since they’d gotten utterly drunk on cursed cider and each other in the shop’s back room and — Crowley’s gentle grooming faltered for a moment, but Aziraphale didn’t notice. “Why not? Thought it was a big deal upstairs, grooming each other?”

“Dangerous.” Aziraphale rubbed a knuckle against Crowley’s leg, wanting to soothe away the bitterness in their voice, thinking about the communal grooming gatherings that were the most boring but also ridiculously fraught office parties in creation. Out of self preservation Aziraphale had created a ‘show up, make nice, make excuse, vanish’ routine that had kept them from ever having to reveal their wings. Being dismissed as inconsequential occasionally had its uses. “You know. Awful. Nosy buggers. Better with you, even without...”

“Aziraphale.” There was a world of meaning in that one word, and they lapsed into silence in the dimness. Crowley gently tended Aziraphale’s wings from top to bottom, confounded by the strange residue that sublimated from cold sandy grit to smoke in their hands. The wings felt normal, well, as normal as the corporeal manifestation of a Celestial being’s power could feel, but every once in a while the oblique light from the doorway would strike them just right to make them seem gold instead of white, with a faint sheen of what might be iridescence. But it was dark and Crowley didn’t want to look too closely, nor think about any more surprises.

By the time Aziraphale’s feathers were back in order Crowley felt as though they were buzzing with energy yet at the same time exhausted. “All done,” they murmured, and Aziraphale furled their wings away into the ether and curled sleepily onto their side towards Crowley with a few mumbled words of gratitude.

Crowley sat in the dark for a long while, doing their best to not think as they listened to Aziraphale’s quiet even breathing that spoke of true sleep. Eventually they slipped from the bed and dressed and retreated to the office. With a snap they miracled up a couch and turned on the TV, letting themself be lulled into a thoughtful stupor that eventually slipped into sleep.

Start at the beginning> Chapter 1 | Chapter 4 < Next Chapter

#good omens celebration #goc2021 #good omens #good omens fanfic #aziraphale/crowley #BAMF Crowley #BAMF Aziraphale #angst #angst but it turns out okay I swear #they kinda die #but they also bring each other back #trust me ;}#long post #readmore #Ineffable Bastards

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side-lizabeth · 3 years

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ONE PIECE DRESSROSA-ZOU ARCS IMPRESSIONS

This part is the spoiler-free part of my impressions.

I don’t know what I was expecting from Dressrosa but it didn’t left me wanting for more... outside the animation part, probably. But I mean when you get spoiled on how OP’s being animated rn, no sh*t. Although I really did enjoy the new characters. Cavendish is accidentally becoming one of my favourite characters and this is because of the anime of Gintama... But that’s because I’m finding more and more seiyuus in One Piece that just so happened to be voicing recurrent characters (or straight up main characters) in Gintama, so I shouldn’t be suprised.

And then there’s Zou and I’d lie if I’d say I should have had expected an island with furries, and yet I didn’t. ...and once again the “holy sh*t I wasn’t expecting these seiyuus being in One Piece too” striked back. But at this point I don’t know if it’s really because of Gintama or just because I’m starting to go back to my old teen hobbies like when I was a hardcore Seiyuu fan, and recognizing a lot of seiyuus is giving me a huge bust of serotonin. (?)

Above all, I liked Dressrosa more than Zou, even if Dressrosa has... it’s own issues.

If you want to go straight up to the spoiler section, click down here:

Let’s start with Dressrosa:

I thought to just continue this lil update, where I started the non spoiler section by saying that I won’t feel any shame or make an apology for reblogging non stop posts of Roronoa Zoro, I’m still on that Idea, fight me if you want(maybe no); but I decided to explain more about my first impressions, and then maybe elaborate extra stuff from those bullet point-lighning round from that post.

Overall, I had fun. I geniuently enjoyed Doffy as a villain, and his motivations where pretty interesting too. NGL, this arc is basically new world Alabasta” and it pretty much shows... But the thing is that this time it was a little bit more interesting because of Doffy.

Doffy being the combo of Warlord and Celestial Dragon may sound like that moment of the Simpsons of “it’s just the same doll but with a new hat” in comparison to Alabasta, but even if I also enjoyed Crocodile as a villain in there, at least Doffy had a more interesting backstory and motivations to explore... while Crocodile was just an excuse to show off Nico Robin in all her glory. That’s it. I said it. (and probably made a fwend sad). Please, Crocodile, sir, next time you come back please do show us the secret Ivankov and you only know and then we talk.

Overall, I just had the time of my life hating Doffy, that’s it. I’m not going to try to explain anything else. I’m a basic b*tch whose favourite villains are the ones who are just so evil I just have the time of my life hating on. Like Tsurumi from Golden Kamuy, another despicable motherf*cker, for instance.

And now that I’m talking about Doffy... I KNOW UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE LIKE CORA-SAN AND I ALSO JOIN THE GANG. BEST FATHER EVER AND HE BARELY WAS ONE FOR 6 MONTHS. BUT GAVE BABY TORAO ENOUGH LOVE TO PREVENT HIM FROM BECOMING LIKE HIS BROTHER. KUDOS TO HIM.

...Btw, I just need to break this impressions one moment to openly say that, as a Spaniard, I feel weird now saying Doffy’s entire name. For a reason. And Cora-san’s too. Now I understand english speakers(americans to be more precisely) when they watch Bungou Stray Dogs and some characters from there just happened to be named after famous english literature writers... (the first comparison I just thought about, don’t attack me plz)

Also, kudos to the voice actors because they did an amazing job and I had even more fun, like for instance Koyama Rikiya. I absolutely loved Kyros thanks mainly to him... Although I wish I could entirely say the same about Rebecca and Baby 5 because they barelly had any screentime or, at least personally speaking, didn’t to bring something interesting tothe table... Well, maybe I can excuse Baby 5 because of the ending of Punk Hazard, but with Rebecca definetly not. FFS her seiyuu is the Queen Hayashibara Megumi, I was expecting more from Rebecca (although maybe the blame is really in me for expecting that much) than what we got. But don’t get me wrong, I did like her but.. I wanted just a little bit more of her.

Another thing I enjoyed a lot was the introduction of Fujitora. I knew he was popular for a reason, but I wasn’t expecting it to be... because of this. I was expecting him to be popular only because he was a blind old man who could fight harder than the dudebro’s gary stu fanfic-like idea they have of Zoro, but he’s definetly not that. Fujitora is a really interesting man who geniuently thinks about people’s safety (can’t say the same about Sakazuki and Borsalino, lol), and I respect that.

*LAST MOMENT EDIT BECAUSE I FORGOT ANOTHER VERY IMPORTANT THING* THE REUNION OF LUFFY AND SABO MADE ME CRY TOO. I DON’T KNOW, I’M CRYING TOO MUCH OVER ONE PIECE

Now I’m just going through some bullet points from the update post:

First bullet point I’m actually elaborating: The Colloseum part was hella boring.

I just couldn’t stand it. I barely gave any sh*t about the characters and there’s also times where I’m just thinking that the Colloseum part could had been handled differently, with more interesting characters but well, that’s my opinion. I mean the only tournament arcs that I genuenly enjoyed were the Galaxy Wars from Saint Seiya (the OG one from the 80′s if somebody’s wondering), and maybe the Heaven’s Arena arc from HxH, so even if I was interested on seeing the OP take on it.. It kinda went sour for me at the beggining of this tournament, honestly. The fight versus Diamante was probably one of the very few interesting things happening inside the tournament.

And don’t get me wrong, interesting things do happen inside, like the encounter of Luffy and Rebecca, the fate of the losers from the colloseum, etc. But the tournament arc itself... not the best thing, pretty boring tbh.

The second bullet point I’m actually elaborating, but this time I’m literally copy-pasting the bullet point... for a reason: I STARTED TO SWEAT IN F*CKING FEAR WHEN NAMI’S GROUP ENCOUNTERED BIG MAM’S SHIP, AND EVEN MORE WHEN SANJI SAID “I’M GETTING INTO THAT SHIP”. NO. PLEASE. DON’T. I’M NOT READY FOR WHOLE CAKE ISLAND YET.

Look, by the time I’m writing this I’m already in Whole Cake and let me just tell you one thing; I’m still not ready for this arc. I know it’s very important, specially for Sanji’s development as a character and it’s like a re-introduction of him, but I’d lie if I’d said that I “do feel sensitive” around the themes explored in this arc, and it’s personally tought to go throught it but... Since it’s just too long and too personal to share the entire reason on a public post, I’m just leaving it as the following: “I’m not ready to tackle those themes, but I feel like I need to tackle them if I want to be the best version of myself”. That’s all.

The third and last bullet point I’m actually elaborating, LET ME TELL YOU HOW GINTAMA F*CKED ME UP ENTIRELY

For the sake of being short, I’m a crazy Gintama fan. I’m almost like an encyclopedia of shorts for all(?) Gintama content. I’ve been like this since I was 14-15 y/o (when I’m writing this I’m currently 25), so of course, if there’s something that remotely resembles something from Gintama (mainly gintama jokes or references when it happens), I’ll react to it instantly (but in a healthy way, not like an obnoxious annoying elitist lil sh*t of a fan), and sadly, part of this curse I ended up with included reconizing every single seiyuu that appeared in Gintama (or at least the ones who voiced important/popular characters) in other anime. And of course, seiyuus from Gintama did already appear before Dressrosa; like kid Ace’s seiyuu Sakaguchi Daisuke (voice of Shinpachi), or... Akainu’s seiyuu Tachiki Fumihiko (voice of Hasegawa “Madao” Taizou)... But then there’s Dressrosa and... It just went all over the board (pun not intended... does it even count as one tho?).

And don’t get me wrong, this did also happened to me on reverse with One Piece Seiyuus, but.... coming back to “Gintama f*cked me up”, it hitted differently, because it almost looked like they were casted to play certain characters based on the characters they played in Gintama and... NGL, it made everything even more hilarious. Like the fact that Kugimiya Rie voices a bad mouthed “child” in One Piece(Sugar)... just like she does in Gintama(Kagura). And I know technically speaking Sugar “is an adult” BUT, if we follow the logic of her Hobby Hobby fruit, she’s doomed to be an eternal child for the rest of her life, as in “no more development like a normal adult human would”. I’m just saying what the canon says, don’t mind me.

...Or Cavendish. I can confirm you that Cavendish is pretty much Gintama’s Katsura Kotarou’s madness as an OP character. And now he’s one of my favourite background characters in One Piece... Mainly because of that. And yes, they do in fact share the seiyuu Ishida Akira. (Also, is it just me or is he inspired by Lady Oscar from The Rose of Versailles???)

...So yeah, TLDR: too much gintama made me shout “oh shit, gintama’s taking over one piece”

Now with the Zou impressions

I liked the idea of Zou being an “island”, that’s not an Island but a millennia old elephant, walking around and hard to track down. Brilliant. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s inspired by something mythological but I still can’t point out which one.

...also I wasn’t expecting Pedro to be voiced by Miki Shin’Ichiro, in the same way I wasn’t expecting Orikasa Fumiko as Wanda... although she already voiced someone previously in One Piece so...

Even if it was a short arc, it gave a lot of valuable information like the origin of the poneglyphs and the link between the Mink tribe and the Kozuki clan from Wano but...

What I wasn’t expecting was how we got introduced to the Whole Cake arc. I came to this arc, thinking the Whole Cake thing won’t be that mentioned and... I ended up crying because of the sacrifice Sanji was willing to partake in... I feel bad for that guy... And since by the time of writing this I’m already in Whole Cake... Without spoilers I’ll say: yeah, no sh*t I was feeling bad for him” (also because I got almost entirely spoiled over all Whole Cake arc).

...but look, ngl, I didn’t like very much the ending of this arc. Probably what happened to Momonosuke and the Millennia old elephant may be more interesting and better explained in the near future but... I was more confused than anything, and I’m hopping it to be better explained in the future. I’ll just leave it as such.

Over all, if I had to choose, I’d say that Dressrosa was more entertaining than Zou... Although Zou did deliver bigger stuff when it comes to plot development, while Dressrosa was more focused on the next step to overthrow a Yonkou than anything, I felt like I had more ”fun” watching Dressrosa... Probably because I also want to get to Wano already.

Now I’m in Whole Cake arc, I’m more or less by the beggining of the arc and oh boy... This arc is going to be harder than expected and the only thing ready I have are the pocket tissues by my side because I already know I’m going to cry the hell out of this arc. And of course, have my soul utterly destroyed by the Reintroduction of Sanji and his past.

I hope he has a break after this because wow... He needs too many hugs to count. Probably more than Luffy in Marineford.

#personal mumbling #one piece spoilers #dressrosa arc #zou arc #the zoro joke from the spoiler sectiong was brought to you by a zoro enjoyer who hates straight zoro 'fans' *cofcof*dudebros*cofcof*#i know i said i may analize the spanish influence from dressrosa but it looks more like a cross between italy and barcelona tbf #i still can't believe i still can recognize so many seiyuus after all this time #I FORGOT TO MENTION CARROT IS HELLA CUTE AND I LOVE HER ALREADY #ALSO ALSO ALSO SPOILER BUT SABO AND KOALA ARE VERY CUTE

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cognacdelights · 4 years

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Teenage Dirtbags | 002. — A Right Hook A Day

Summary: In which, an out of control teenager is sentenced to a summer in the Outer Banks to come to come to terms with her mother’s untimely death, and reform her rebellious, troublesome ways before she does irreversible damage.

Authot’s Note: Sooo this is the second chapter of the “Teenage Dirtbags” series and it’s one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written. Marnie was my original child (before Indie - although Indie is lowkey my favourite), and there is so much of myself in her so I hope you love her as much as I do. As always, masterlists will be linked below and feel free to message me, pop an ask in my ask box or reply to this if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Warnings: This series may contain mature themes/content throughout including but not limited to swearing, sexual language and/or scenes, substance abuse and mentions of death.

Word Count: 3367.

Teenage Dirtbags Series Masterlist.

Fill The Void General Masterlist.

This gif is not mine, all credit goes to the owner.

002. — A Right Hook A Day

There were several trivial pleasures in life that Marnie Sinclaire just couldn't resist; cherry pie, boys and a party. There was just something about the unmistakable, alluring aroma of cheap beer, teenage lust and bad decisions that really got her endorphins flowing. Parties were her safe space - her haven; they were the one place on Earth that Marnie could do just about whatever she wanted, whatever numbed the hollow, vacant ache that haunted her chest, and she never had to take even so much as a slither of the blame. She was devoid of all and absolute responsibility. If she was a tease, it was all down to the entrancing, provocative music they were playing. If she so happened to kiss somebody’s boyfriend, it was the infinite number of premium, export strength vodka shots that persuaded her to do it. If she found herself embroiled within a vicious cat-fight with the spiteful, pretentious girls from across the river - it was the obligatory capsules of molly, not her. It was never her. There was always some kind of justification that excused her reckless and wild behaviour, and that made her feel invincible for those sole, precious hours of anarchy.

So, when the audacious, unruly brunette found herself graciously clambering down the drain pipe of her grandparents' house, it was of no surprise to the girl. Despite her impassive, frigid reception of the boy with the devilish glint lurking within the amber speckles of his dark, mocha eyes, he had tempted her into joining them down at the boneyard. Although, admittedly, Marnie didn't need much convincing when it came to partaking in boozy social gatherings - and there was a minimal internal debate on whether she should test the waters with her grandparents so early in her sentence. Of course, in true Marnie Sinclaire fashion, she had opted to. After spinning them an improvised, fabricated exaggeration of how the eight and a half hour journey to the Outer Banks had utterly wiped her out, and proceeding to inform them of her plans to recuperate with an early night, she disappeared up the varnished, cedar wood staircase. Several outfit changes and a nonchalant application of peach-tinted lip gloss later, and she was descending from the perilous heights of her second story window.

By the time Marnie had reached the section of beach that had affectionately been nicknamed the boneyard, the ruthless, Mid-Atlantic sun had retreated behind the distant horizon. A captivating concoction of magenta hues and coral tinges had painted themselves across the Outer Banks skyline in a vibrant, bewitching haze, and the previously unbearable humidity had dissipated into a comfortably tepid draught. It had still been relatively light when she had committed her great escape - however she was unfamiliar with the intricate island pathways and had to rely merely on the tinny echoes of the teens' portable speaker to locate the unwinding get together. Marnie may have taken the scenic route, courtesy of her underdeveloped sense of direction, but she had eventually arrived.

All of half an hour had passed since the bright-eyed, fair-skinned beauty's arrival at the ocean-front gathering, yet she had found herself engulfed in a crowd of loafer-clad, polo-shirt-adorning country club boys. However, there was one mousy-haired, stiff-jawed boy in particular that Marnie had made a particular impression on; the playful, wicked glint that occupied her luminous, cerulean eyes had lured him in - but the acid-wash, denim shorts that desperately clung to the curvaceous contours of her slim-lined figure had ultimately seduced him. His large, gentle hand rested on the exposed skin of her upper thigh, as his soft, coaxing lips brushed ever so slightly against the delicate skin of her pierced earlobe, "you look incredible." A subtle waft of his Paco Rabanne aftershave filled her nostrils as his deep, raspy tone purred amorously into her ear. It was a scent which she knew oh too well, yet one that never really impressed her. It was more of a distasteful, indiscreet display of wealth rather than for the sake of actual hygiene purposes.

"Just incredible?" Marnie challenged with a low, flirtatious hum - mimicking his ardent tone. Her sprightly, indigo eyes nonchalantly fluttered closed the second his masterful, delicate lips connected with the nape of her neck. The fair-haired boy began to litter sloppy, yet lustfully tender, kisses along her rose-tinted skin - mumbling a barrage of incoherent compliments in the process. His placid, velvet-like fingertips reached the sensitive plains of her inner thigh, leisurely encroaching on the lightly frayed hem of her sleek, denim shorts. The obviously well-off boy was very much aware that he was pushing his luck with the entrancing Brooklyn native, nevertheless he continued on with his pursuit into the uncharted territory - aiming to be the first in the race to place down his metaphorical flag and claim the terrain as his own in a bid for self validation.

"You are a fucking goddess," his fervid, lustful words vibrated against her freckled, alabaster complexion - his voice thick and gravelly - as her wandering mind fixated on the intense, rhythmic pulsing radiating from the nearby speaker. Marnie responded subconsciously by arching her back, as the heat of his whiskey-laced breath tantalised her most sensitive of nerves. "There's so many things that I want to do to you, princess" he proceeded to purr hankeringly, "so many positions that I want to take you in, so many places that I want to make you cum." She could feel the intrepid warmth of his dauntless fingertips intruding beneath the hemline of her shorts, a mere millimetres reach from the champagne, flower-patterned lace of her g-string.

"Slow down, Usain Bolt. This is a marathon, not a sprint," Marnie teased - her voice laced frivolously with her signature, provocative tenor. Her dainty lavender-painted fingertips coiled themselves around his wrist, guiding his meandering, clammy palms from beneath the frazzled hemline of her figure-hugging shorts. Casually, she turned her head to peer upwards at the upper-class boy, her beryl orbs occupying a sprightly glimmer as the corners of her glazed lips curled upwards into an innocent smile. "How about I get us some drinks?"

Removing herself from the confinements of his sordid, sun-burnt grasp, Marnie left the boy little time to object, beginning her leisurely stroll along the picturesque tidelands. The coarse silt particles beneath her off-white, worn-in Converse was uneven - and shifted unpredictably in every which direction under the light pressure of her footsteps. As someone accustomed to the static tarmac of Brooklyn's infamous streets, the doe-eyed brunette found the malleable surface difficult to navigate. It was yet another minute detail on an ever-growing list of contradictions to the world she was so fondly acquainted with, and desired to be reunited with.

Only a few, short minutes had passed before the troublesome vixen had - quite literally - stumbled upon the queue of drunken partygoers leading up to the beer keg, the ivory sand loosening beneath her cautious footsteps. The oddly alluring fragrance of cheap, low percentage beer forcefully invaded her airways, giving Marnie the unrivalled feeling of home; she relished in the one, trivial comfort she had managed to locate on the insufferable, out-of-touch island as she waited patiently for the line to diminish. There were several boys in the queue before her; all three of them drastically exceeding six foot, bare-chested and their tanned complexions adorning flattering splatters of salt water droplets that reflected celestially under the fire-lit lanterns.

As she eventually reached the front of the queue, Marnie was greeted by a much anticipated familiar face. The same golden-skinned boy who had delivered groceries to her grandparents' house stood before her - his large palm swaddling the beer tap, as his brawny, athletic figure guarded the half-empty keg. A haughty, complacent smirk etched itself into his defined features; after his earlier, sullen encounter with the pale-skinned virago, he was taken aback by her presence - but not disappointed. "Well, well, we-"

"Payment is required upfront," the brash, blonde-haired boy beside John B drowned out his mocking tone with his bold, cocksure words. A dauntless grin had proudly painted itself across his sun-kissed complexion, as his piercing, cobalt eyes glanced downwards at the petite, cinnamon-haired girl - appreciating all the fine, minute details of her being. Her skin, although pale, exhibited a naturally healthy and radiant glow, as the pinnacles of her prominent cheek bones displayed faint speckles of freckles. Her satin, blush-coloured lips were full and plump, and shaped perfectly by her pronounced cupid's bow. Marnie had an effortless kind of beauty to her - as even without her usual, heavy cosmetic aesthetic, she still attracted and secured the attention of the foreign, North Carolina boys.

"Payment?" she challenged the boy, arching her natural, dark eyebrows out of pure contest. His brazen demand for something in exchange for a mere half-filled cup of lukewarm, lingering on out of date beer was more than absurd to her. However, Marnie had to continually remind herself that these were North Carolina boys that she was dealing with; they were a whole different breed to the ones she had grown up with on the crime-ridden streets of Brooklyn. Perhaps, parties were simply not for the sake of sweet, teenage rebellion in these sandy plains, maybe they were an organised, profitable event and the boy with the wavy, mahogany locks had simply neglected to inform her of that fact. Her intense, perplexed gaze landed upon John B, who simply shrugged his broad shoulders in a casual display of confusion - neither confirming, nor denying, her theory.

"A kiss for a cup," the shaggy-haired blonde flirtatiously informed her, his sculpted, burly arms folding across his chest in his infamous, nonchalantly cavalier manner. The temptation to roll her sapphire eyes at his arrogant, pompous demeanour was more than abundant; the boy was not a budding, young entrepreneur offsetting his business enterprise early in life, he was merely an arrogant, over-confident teenage boy whose life direction revolved solely around the erratic, hormonal urges of his penis. "Sorry, babe, it's the island rules."

The over-whelming glint of mischief laced itself within the deep, sapphire flecks of Marnie's eyes, as she peered upwards through her thick, voluminous lashes, "just one kiss, hmm?" Her tone was playful, yet aloof, as she leisurely twirled the kinked ends of her cascading, chestnut wisps around the tip of her finger. An ever so slight, angelic pout graced her inviting, peach-toned lips as her head cocked innocently to the side, awaiting confirmation from the still nameless boy with the tousled, dirty blonde hair. He nodded his head assuredly - a slither of him astounded that his crass, amorous advances hadn't been met with pure, resentful outrage, as those he had previously accosted had reacted with.

Marnie took a small, confident step closer to John B. Her delicate, gentle palms placed either side of his elegantly sculpted cheeks, holding him in place, as the battered heels of her dirt-covered Converse rose up from the coarse particles beneath her. As the whimsical girl angled her makeup-less face upwards - her luscious, gloss-coated lips brushed against John B's. She was almost instantaneously met with the all too familiar taste of Keystone Light; the combined malt and bitter tang had temporarily stained his soft, welcoming lips. His large, paw-like hand held her at the nape of her neck - his touch light and placid - as he eased into the impassioned synchronisation. A low, lascivious grunt caught in the depths of his throat as her front, pearly teeth sank tauntingly into the swollen flesh of his bottom lip, lightly nibbling the delicate skin. She proceeded to drag her teasing, salacious tongue along the length of his lip, tenderly caressing the light indents. His gentle lips parted in submission, allowing her tormenting tongue to entangle itself with his own in an abruptly ardent embrace.

"Who's rolling out the welcome wagon now?" John B's low, husky voice chuckled as his lips retreated cautiously from Marnie's. Releasing the petite, bodacious brunette from his gentle hold, a smug, haughty smirk upturned the corners of his beer-laced, gloss-stained lips. His dark, untamed eyebrows raised in an arrogantly, quizzical manner as he waited patiently upon a response from the loud-mouthed, quick-witted girl before him.

"Still you, John B," Marnie quipped back instantly - complacent smirk etching itself into the doll-like features of her freckled complexion, "you've thrown me a welcome party and everything. You've really outdone yourself as well, although I would reconsider on who you hire for service - it seems as though he likes to take advantage of the guest of honour."

"You're trouble, you, aren't you?" the dark-haired boy anticipated with an amused chortle, pulling a singular red cup from the crumpled, plastic packaging laying atop the ivory sand. As if it came as second nature to him, John B applied the slightest touch of pressure to the keg tap, filling the cliché party cup with the golden, bitter beverage. The stream of beer flowed at a steady pace, hitting the side of the cup at an approximately forty five degree angle - to leave as little head as possible on the bordering stale lager.

"I resent the word trouble." Marnie took the disposable cup from the olive-skinned boy, his robust, athletic figure towering above her petite frame. Taking a generous sip of the cheap, college-grade beer, her doe-like, cerulean eyes peered atop the plastic rim. "You've got a little lip gloss on your mouth," she stated, the minor echoes of a giggle evident in the inflections of her lighthearted tone. Casually, she reached her dainty hand upwards, gently wiping away the remnants of her bubblegum-tinted gloss with a tender slide of her thumb.

"What, it didn't suit me?" John B countered banteringly - his bushy, untamed eyebrows raising upwards in an impudently brazen manner. His admirably chiselled arms crossed over his almost-bare, toned chest, shielding his loosely buttoned, pattern-printed shirt from flapping in the mild breeze. As the early-summer night had progressed, the once unbearable temperature had began to decrease significantly, and the occasional gust of wind had picked up into a steady, comfortable flurry.

"Nah, wasn't your colour," she divulged teasingly, taking another lavish gulp of her somewhat refreshing, alcoholic beverage, "it didn't complement your eyes and it definitely clashed with that hideous shirt you're wearing." Perhaps her caustically facetious words were a sliver too brazen for just their second interaction, although the thoroughly entertained grin which danced across his sun-soaked features indicated that John B hadn't taken her playful words to heart.

"Come on now, trouble, I can pull off any col-"

"What do you think you're doing macking on my girl, Routledge?" the roaring, irate voice of notorious posh boy, Rafe Cameron, crudely interrupted the boy mid sentence; it had become somewhat of a recurring theme throughout the evening. The older, less-athletically built boy proceeded to wade his way through the gathering of parched party-goers - his accompanying posse of fellow mindless, well-off minions following in close proximity behind. His work-shy hands were balled into tight, heavy fists, clenched in anticipation of the brawl that he inevitably expected to result from their heated exchange.

"Your girl?" the blonde-haired boy, adorning the discoloured muscle tee, antagonised the situation - his derisive words and coarse, mocking tone only provoking the enraged Cameron boy further, "didn't look like she was your girl when she was all up on my boy, John B just now."

"Was he talking to you, trailer trash?" one of Rafe's carbon-copy puppets hollered from the safety of several feet away. The shorter, feistier blonde stepped forward, his jaw clenched and his already-bruised fists clamped in preparation of the imminent altercation. Aware of his friend's lengthy, complicated history with the law, John B outstretched the palm of his large hand - serving as a makeshift barrier between the two cockfighting blondes, and silently urging his already probation-sentenced friend to fall back. This seemed to appease the short-statured boy for now as he retreated back a few reluctant steps, loosening his jaw.

"So what if I was macking on your girl, what are you going to do about it?" John B confronted the furious Figure Eight toff, taunting him further with his jesting, sarcasm-laced tone as he advanced forward, "are you going to throw daddy's money at me, like you do with all your other problems?" The umber-eyed boy with the dark, wayward waves had struck a nerve with Rafe Cameron; the snide, sneering words hurled towards him had rattled the trust-funded socialite - his scrawny, lacklustre body brimming with unprecedented rage. Acting on pure, neanderthal instinct, he swung his clenched fist towards John B, his garish, white knuckles grazing against the tanned highs of his cheek bone. John B stumbled backwards as the force of Rafe's tensed, curled-up fist connected with his face.

"Woah, back off, Donald Trump Jr," Marnie brazenly injected herself into the brawl; she shoved Rafe with as much strength and capability that her dainty, diminutive figure could muster, aiming to put as much distance between the two scuffling boys as possible. Her venomous tongue spat it's infamous poison in disapproval of the affluent blonde and his barbaric actions - utter disgust conspicuous within her harsh, reprimanding voice. She stared upwards at him, her unsympathetic, indigo eyes burning into his roseate features as she awaited his next move with hitched and bated breath.

"Stay out of this, bitch," Rafe hissed at the capricious brunette, lacking any fragments of hesitation as he returned the shove - only harder. The disposable, plastic cup that Marnie had remained in possession of crumpled under the sheer force of the repugnant Cameron boy's vigor, carelessly spilling it's alcoholic contents over her cropped, cream top. Although it was uncomfortable and tacky against her fair skin, her beer-doused garments were not the primary source of her superlative fury; Marnie Sinclaire absolutely despised, detested and resented the word bitch - especially when used as a derogatory slander to defame a woman. In Marnie's eyes, it was the most degrading slur of them all, and nothing boiled her blood quite like it.

In retaliation to his vulgar turn of phrase, the infuriated Brooklyn-born vixen found herself unconsciously launching her contracted fist at Rafe - knocking him backwards as her dainty knuckles connected with his crooked, concave nose, "who's the bitch now, bitch?" Her sour, sardonic words rang through his ears like the blaring chimes of the island's church bell, as his flaring temper toppled over at the brim. Raising his clenched fist once again, he directed his rage-filled, balled-up hand towards Marnie.

"I don't think so, man," the shorter, blonde-haired boy who had previously accosted the dark-haired girl, grabbed onto the ironed collar of Rafe's Ralph Lauren polo shirt before he could lay a hand on her. He negligently yanked the obnoxiously hostile Cameron boy from Marnie's vicinity, proceeding to thrust his gaunt, bony carcass towards the two witless clones that swarmed around the abhorrent boy. A bitter, hateful glare contorted his fair features as he remained on guard, willing and ready to pounce on the occasion that round two would commence with the feisty, short-statured boy adorning the beer-stained muscle tee.

"This isn't over, Routledge, Maybank," Rafe Cameron spat viciously, addressing the two South side boys directly - before wiping the meandering trail of blood leaking from his quickly bruising nose. Accepting his defeat for the moment, the embarrassed boy retreated back to the safety of the Figure Eight neighbourhood to tend to both his physical and metaphorical wounds, his agitated grumbles growing quieter as he disappeared into the unkempt foliage.

"Can someone get me some ice?" the lager-soaked brunette requested, a tinge of concern unmistakable in her distressed voice. Her luminous, cobalt orbs glanced towards the quick-tempered blonde and the anxious, dark-skinned boy who had appeared beside him now that the looming threat of violence had subdued - hoping one or the other would make an offer.

"I'll be fine," John B dismissed her with a simple, lackadaisical wave of his hand, "Rafe can't throw punches for shit."

"No, you moron, not for your face, for my hand. That fucking hurt."

Taglist: @drewsephsmiles @spilledtee @bellaguarneri @outrbanks @ilovejjmaybank @milamaybank @jjtheangel @shawnssongs @jayjaymaebank @jjouterbanks @ptersparkers @jjcultmain @summerintheobx @captainpogue @rudyypankow @rudypankow-whore @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @anonymous0writer @danandphilfan6

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