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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

Note

Ok, basics of Soul Eater. This is a world where people can be born with the ability to transform into magical weapons, known as Demon weapons. They can come to this school called the DWMA (Death Weapon Meister Academy) and find a partner who’s able to wield them, called a meister. If their soul wavelengths are compatible, they’ll become a pair. These weapon-meister pairs are then tasked with going out into the world and fighting off kishin eggs, which are people who have strayed onto the path of evil by eating human souls. If they aren’t hunted down and eliminated, they will eventually form into a kishin – a creature of pure madness that would destroy the world.

There are also Witches, beings of magic who are kind of like a third party – some want the kishin to be revived because it causes chaos, but others are chill and actually on the side of the DWMA. Witches are important because their souls are the key to a Demon weapon awakening their true form, and gaining extra powers. Defeating a witch and consuming their soul makes the weapon into a Death Scythe, a weapon powerful enough to be wielded by Death himself, the god of the world.

For my AU, I’m just taking the premise of the world and replacing the characters with DSMP/MCYT characters, so I won’t explain much there. Great show, would recommend highly, it’s on Netflix, read the manga as well if you’re disappointed by the ending of the anime.

Anyways, I’d like to use more MCYT characters than just DSMP peeps, like some Hermitcraft folks, but I know nothing about them really, so I just have DSMP stuff for now.

Phil is Death, because I can’t help but make him immortal in every AU I make. He’s the one who determines who has started to go down the path of the kishin and makes the order for them to be taken out. (Sounds kinda intense, but in this universe souls of people like this actually look different to healthy human souls).

Dream and George are a meister-weapon pair. George is a Demon Axe, and they are classified as a Three-Star pair (the highest ranking a meister can achieve, and second only to being a Death Scythe for a weapon.)

Techno is also a three-star meister, although his situation is a little different. He doesn’t wield a Demon weapon, but instead he wields a legendary sword called Harpe, which is a shapeshifting weapon that can take different forms. (So, in the series, they have Excalibur, who is this really powerful sword that anyone is compatible with, wavelength wise, but he himself is really freaking annoying so nobody can stand using him as a partner. I wanted to give Techno something different, but I wanted to tie in his connection with Greek mythology, so I created my own legendary weapon. Harpe is Perseus’s sword in the mythology, what he used to decapitate Medusa. Harpe is the same as Excalibur in that it can match anyone’s wavelength, but instead of just being annoying like Excalibur, Harpe allows Techno to hear the voices of the dead. Wherever he goes, there are people who speak to him, and usually it’s just idle chatter and he pretends he can’t hear them, but they seem to know that he can because he always seems to attract them wherever he goes.) Harpe usually takes the form of a sword, but it can also become a trident, a spear, and a pickaxe.

Then there are the two-star pairs, who are a level above the regular students and able to take on more dangerous missions. There’s Sapnap and his two weapons Karl and Quackity, who wield fire and water/ice (not sure yet) respectively. Sapnap and Karl were partners first, before Quackity came to the school, and he was a menace. Sapnap is a very powerful meister, but also very destructive due to his partner being fire and him not knowing how to hold back sometimes. When Quackity became a student and the teachers learned that he was a water weapon, he was begged to partner with them to try and reduce the amount of damage Sap does on lessons, and generally chill them out. Of course, the teachers didn’t account for Quackity being just as chaotic, if not more, than his partners, and thus begun the most chaotic trio at the school.

Bad and Skeppy are partners, and originally I was gonna have Skeppy as the meister with a reluctant Bad who gets pulled into Skeppy’s pranks, but then I remembered that IRL!Bad is a badass who throws knives and shoots guns and stuff, so I changed it so Bad’s the meister and Skeppy’s his knife weapon. Bad still gets dragged around with Skeppy’s shenanigans though.

Punz and Ant are partners, mostly because I needed them to be in the AU somehow and they both needed a partner. Honestly don’t know much about either of them, and I don’t know what kind of weapon Ant is, but they’re strong enough to be two-star.

Then there are the one-star meisters, which is the ranking all students start as. You have Tubbo and Tommy, Wilbur and Fundy, Niki and Jack, Puffy and HBomb, and Purpled and Hannah(hannahxxrose).

To the surprise of most people who meet them, Tubbo is actually the meister in their pair. Which makes it very funny when Tommy’s being his usual bombastic, irritating self and picks a fight with another pair who they may not know, and when they get ready to fight Tommy calls over this innocent looking kid and starts glowing in his transformation, becoming a crossbow that can shoot explosive shots (like a firework crossbow).

Fundy is an interesting case, because he is actually a Witch (using the fact that Fundy’s character on the SMP is ftm trans, and because witches in this world are animal-themed and it just made too much sense with his fox connection. He has ears that he hides with a hat and a tail that he hides.) He’s partnered with Wilbur, who is a set of oversized gauntlets that have claws at the end. Yes, he gets furry jokes, no, he’s not amused, but he deals.

Niki and Jack are the weapon I’m probably most excited about. Jack can transform into a big shield, Steven Universe style, but it also has another ability. Niki can strike it with a mallet in different ways, and the sound that emanates from it has a different affect on her enemies/their attacks. She can ring it so that it resonates at a frequency that can break glass, can stun her enemies, etc. A lot of people think she’s weak or not as good as others because her weapon is defensive, but she just smiles and knows that if they ever see her fight, they’ll think differently.

Puffy and HBomb is half a joke, but also serious. HBomb is some sort of spiked whip/lasso, but many people joke that he’s a glorified fishing rod because Puffy once used him for that and he never lived it down. (Because Puffy’s a captain, but also because HBomb has his podcast and it just seemed to fit). Puffy is also a sheep witch, and bonds with Fundy over it since nobody else at school knows about their heritage (given that Witches are usually an enemy of the DWMA)

Purpled and Hannah, I will admit, are only a pair because they’re both bedwars players and it seemed appropriate? No idea what kind of weapon Hannah would be though.

Real quick, here are some other character roles. Ponk is the school nurse, Sam is a technician who is supposedly working to make sure the school is functioning, maintaining the old pipes and stuff, but he has a lot of secret work that Death has him do on the side of that. Alyssa and Callahan are a Death Scythe pair (Alyssa as a meister) who work on another continent and aren’t ever around, cause I thought it would be funny.

Ranboo is a special case of being his own meister? If anyone reading knows the series, he’s basically like Crona. But instead of madness from the black blood, it’s his enderwalk state that he eventually gets snapped out of in an epic battle with Tommy/Tubbo. He has two non-demon weapon pickaxes that he fights with, as well as the enderman powers from the SMP, and some mild telepathy.

In terms of other MCYT, I don’t know much about the hermits but most seem like they would be good teachers? The only one I was told had to be a meister was Falsesymmetry, because she’s a pvp god. And her weapon is Rendog, because I was told he’s supportive of her and also goes feral if needed? So there’s that. Ren is a transforming weapon, it’s a bow that can disconnect at the middle and become two swords connected by a magic chain that can extend as far as needed.

I have no idea what to do with Eret or Schlatt, they feel like they should have important roles but the “corrupt politician” or “the traitor who became king” bits don’t work super well in this universe. Well, traitor does, but I also love Eret and want to give them a good ending. And I could easily use Schlatt’s normal video persona rather than his SMP character, because that would be kinda funny and not something I see as often. - 🐉

Oooooooh. This is super interesting. This is super interesting. I really love this concept already!

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kirisaki-daichi-scenarios · 3 years

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Can we get more beach trip headcannons except this time with female! manager, Thank you I love your work❤️❤️❤️

original beach training camp hcs here - worth reading for context

look at my ass saying ‘context’ as if this is some literary analysis

on the one hand, with the manager around, hanamiya’s no longer the only adult there to look after everything

on the other hand, manager-chan has to be a little mad to be even be working with the boys, and thus she’s only going to be adding to the chaos

for example, half the time, she’s telling hara that no he can’t just claim he has to protect her from the ‘’renowned okinawan beach ghost’ in order to get out of practice, and the other half of the time, she’s plotting with him at 2am about how they terrorise the others and make them think that the beach ghost does exist

side note: seto doesn’t believe in ghosts or anything that’s not explained by science; hanamiya’s the same but he pretends he worships satan every once in a while just for the sake of freaking people out; who knows if furuhashi believes in them in not, but, even if he saw a ghost, he wouldn’t be impressed

and yamazaki’s the type of say they’re stupid, and then start fucking screaming as he goes through a haunted house and then, once he’s out of there, claim that he was never phased in the slightest, and that it was furuhashi grabbing onto everyone’s arms (furuhashi’s a good target cause he’s not a large enough dick to dispute it and embarrass yamazaki; he just kinda raises an eyebrow and moves on)

road trip fic where everyone visits a haunted house and does all kinds of stupid shit when?

anyway that’s why yamazaki’s sitting in on the “reviving beach ghost” conversation (you can’t get scared if you are the ghost, am i right?)

the plan with the ghost is simple and is supposed to involve a) manager dressing up as the ghost (long black dress, hair over her face, etc), b) yamazaki making ghostly sounds (he’s good at sound effects, it’s not as stupid an idea as it sounds), c) hara’s gonna film it all (and also buy the necessary supplies, like fake blood etc)

the problem is that discussing satanically plans at 2am, after you’ve had a full day of practice (or a full day of dealing with these idiots), is that you’re not going to be awake at 7am

which is when hanamiya storms in wondering why half the team are missing

although the sight of people covered in dark cloaks (they’re just blankets; it got cold in the night) and pages filled with drawings of pentagrams (it took zaki that many tries before he could draw it without it it being wonky) may be a little unnerving

nothing is more terrifying than a fuming hanamiya dragging you out of bed when you’re still half asleep

and he also finds the written plans so, all in all, mission failed

Moving On

this is already fucking long and i’ve only just started shit

given that seto never plays in full matches, his fitness plan is a little more lenient - aka, sometimes when everyone else is off running and dribbling and whatnot, it’s just manager-chan and seto on the beach, enjoying their holiday

this is helpful as a) it prevents seto from being forgotten (see previous training camp post), and b) it gives their manager the time to very helpfully apply suncream for him, probably in a pattern, so he gets the image of a flower sunburnt to his stomach

the best part of it is that seto doesn’t even give a shit

catch him floating off on his back to the middle of the philippine sea with the flower shining against the sun like a message from god

actually that raises a very important point about the boy’s swimming abilities so,

yamazaki + hara: good swimmers, neither ever took lessons so their strokes aren’t too polished, but they can goof around in the sea and try to drown one another without anyone actually drowning (or, at least, that’s what the manager’s there for)

furuhashi: very good swimmer, even better diver. disappears without making a single ripple in the water, no bubbles either. he just appears all of a sudden from underneath your feet like “this is a pretty shell, isn’t it?” as if his dark presence at the sea bed hadn’t just made several people think there’s a shark about

seto’s real good at floating, and at a mediocre backstroke, and that’s all he ever does - or is bothered to do

matsumoto takes pride in the fact he’s a faster swimmer than anyone else on the team (except for furu that is), and he likes to do the butterfly stroke angrily up and down the shore to get rid of all his pent up stress (hanamiya never comments on it, cause hey it’s just extra fitness training)

and finally hanamiya was unable to swim for a very long time (and there is many a photo of him with swimming armbands, hidden in his bedroom, from when everyone was coming over, and he couldn’t let them know that he has a weakness

however, one time, hara had a pool party when hanamiya still couldn’t swim, and hara threw him into the pool, and he just somehow learned how to in those few seconds? talk about survival instinct

alright back to our scheduled program

furuhashi is damn good at fishing. like damn good, like doesn’t even need a rod, he just shoves his arm in, somehow grabs one, and guts it and prepares the meal there on the beach

having to eat dinner with a furuhashi whose hands and some of his chest are stained with blood (normally he’d wash it off, but he’s a little emo at heart. went through a phase as a child where he was really into blood vials, and satanic witchcraft and all that) may be a little disconcerting, but it’s also a lovely time :)

picture the scene, dear reader

all the lads, surrounded by the sunset, the evening tide and the lush green in the background, sat by a little stove fire over which furuhashi is frying the fish

matsumoto and the manager chatting about the competitions scheduled for after the team gets back (you’d think hanamiya would be involved in this discussion, but Coach Time TM is over, and now he and hara are challenging one another to watch over hot coals, as furuhashi patiently warms up more stones for them)

seto probably helping furuhashi out; either that, or telling yamazaki all the many illnesses he might catch from the ocean, as zaki takes a massive bite of seaweed and then spits it all out

everyone eventually getting dragged into the hot coals battle

someone almost definitely gets burnt (spoiler alert it’s zaki) and manager-chan has to bandage him up as he yells at a laughing hara that he was sabotaged and that he can handle heat better than anyone else here

he dives on the hot coals as if to make his point

and thus matsumoto and furuhashi have to carry him back to the hotel, cause now he’s got even more burns (and he’s also a little baby who doesn’t like pain, but don’t let him here you say that)

oh the woes of training camps when two of your group have very high IQs, and yet there is still only 1 brain cell being shared between 7 people

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krabmeat · 3 years

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heyyyy, just wanteddd too seee ifff youu cooulddd writteee sommmeee karlll x time!travel readerrrrr, itt coouuullddd beee flufff orr anggssttt. whateeeveerrr youuu wantttt :] (morreeeee iiinnnffooo: reeaddderrr allsooo hasss the abillitttyyy to time travelll and karlll and themmm manageeedd tooo bump intoo each otherrr innn the innbetweeeennnn. bothhh offff themm telll storries aboutttt theiir adventuresss tooo one anotherrr and arreee having a gennuinely goooddd timme! tttheeeyyyy meeet agggainn in theeee lllooosssttt cittttyyyy offff mizzzuuuuu annnnddd youuu caannn dooo whatteeeveerrrr affftteerrr thhhatttt)

sorrryyy fooor myyyy tyyyypingggg ssstyyyleeeee (cccaaaannnn i beeeeeee "beeeee annnooonnnnn" bbbutttt wiithouttt theeee draggged outtt letttterrrssss? I ussseeeeeee beeeee/aviannnn/hiveeeee/boottttleeeesssss prrroooonnnnnouuunnsssss)

𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚕 𝚡 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌)

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Karl(Isaac), Ranboo(Charles), Dream(Ranbob), BadBoyHalo(Benjamin), Quackity(Cletus)

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: brief mention of suggestive content, death, murder, explosions, glass breaking, cursing, weapons, water

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎:

I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS HOLY CRAP!!! firstly, welcome "bee anon" (bee/avian/hive/bottles) to my account! its lovely to have you here and thank you so much for the request! i hope this adds up to what you imagined and i hope you stick around! :]]

--------------------------

The In-Between. Any entity that normally roamed around there knew the place well. If you visited there, you visited often. Karl regularly roamed around the in between. The only face he saw there was his. Karl’s from different timelines traveled to the In-Between as well, but ever since he had found those ominous books that told him to steer clear of the “alternate Karl’s”, that’s exactly what he did. So seeing a new face there while roaming the brick-white palace startled him.

The stranger didn’t even get the chance to introduce themselves when Karl briskly grabs them by the arm and starts running to the room under the tree.

“Woah-! Wait are you-“

But before the mystery person can finish their sentence, Karl cuts them off as quickly as possible.

“SSHHHH! Please hold on a second, I’ll let you know when you can talk.”

The mystery person nods and stays silent as they make their way under the big tree.

Once they arrive, Karl flops to the ground exhausted from the running.

“It’s the safest down here, no one can see what we’re doing. But that’s besides the point! Who the heck are you and how did you get here?!”

The mystery person slides down against the wall and onto the floor besides him. They think for a second, trying to recall how they had arrived.

“I’m Y/n, I’m a time traveler and somehow I got HERE instead of the place I was planning on going to. I was walking around and I saw a bunch of the alternate versions of you around the place but I figured that if one of them were to- yknow, drag me away and under the tree, that’d be the one I’d need to talk to that isn’t a fake.”

Karl nods in understanding before he realizes.

“Wait- how did you know about the safety room being under the tree? Or the ‘alternate’ me’s not actually being from other realities?”

Y/n looks at Karl with a deadpan expression and leans back into the wall. They swing their arms out in front of them for dramatic effect.

“Well duh, I have an in between! You aren’t the only one, yknow. Did you get a bunch of those creepy, contradicting books from all around the place? The one that told me the useful information was in all caps, and the other one was talking about how great the place is and constantly used smiles. Not the traditional one though, like, it used the brackets instead of the parenthesis.”

Karl shoots up in surprise, they had gotten those too?! He was never aware that there were other time travelers that existed, let alone were able to get into other peoples in between! He nods, eager to ask them questions.

“So, where were you planning on going? You said you didn’t mean to come here, right?”

Y/n nods, remembering where they were trying to go previously.

“Yeah! I forgot the name, but I know that it’s some place underwater. An abandoned city or something. Enough about me though, one of the main reasons we both time travel is to tell stories, right? So tell me about the places you’ve been! Also, what’s your name? You got mine but I never got yours.”

“Ah, right- I’m Karl-!”

Karl turned around and flipped up his hoodie to show his light gray initials embedded onto the white hoodie. Y/n had a long, white robe with vine-like accents on the hems. The ends of the sleeves had Y/n’s initials on them as well.

“Well… the first place I’ve ever visited was this place I like to call….’The Town That Went Mad’! Ever play the video game ‘Town Of Salem’? It was basically that and I was like the host of it, sorta.”

Karl proceeded to explain the different personas and people to Y/n, there were people like Cornelius the Wise, Helga, Miles Memeington, Mayor Jimmy- Helgas husband, Robin the Orphan, Bob (he’s a builder, yknow), Catboy (very deep voice, no one knows why but it’s a strange contrast to the ears and tail. Mutant or furry??), and Jack the Farmer. He explained from how the orphan had tricked the entire town that he was a murderer when he was instead the Jester, to explaining what the word “dunderhead” meant in Helgas context after explaining how she ruthlessly and openly got her husband executed and then soon proceeded to sleep with Bob.

Both of them were crying tears of laughter, listening and recalling their own stories. By the time Karl had finished telling his story, Y/n was on the ground wheezing from how funny they thought the story was.

“And your telling me they all just, DIED?! That’s so anticlimactic, I love it!”

It’s been maybe 3 hours or so of them discussing stories and laughing. As much as these two travel across the fabrics of the universe, they would have never imagined being able to finally tell someone about their travels and experiences!

Y/n then started talking about a Sky Dynasty that lived up in the clouds in a kingdom called The Kingdom Of Synnefa. When they had dropped in, they would have fallen straight through the clouds if a kind man by the name of Galen hadn’t found them hanging off a building ledge for their dear life! Galen let Y/n drop into his wagon and he took them to get Skywalkers, shoes specifically make for walking on clouds.

Y/n had then explained how a very old looking man who looked to be a pig hybrid approached them, asking them if they were new. Apparently the old pig man was the guardian of the Grand Library, saying how he adored the Kingdoms Greek history and fables. The funny part is that his name is Icarus, a very unfortunate demise that Icarus had in the past but apparently that was a sensitive subject for Icarus and he would get very upset if anyone brought it up.

Another 3 hours went by of this time Y/n telling their stories of their travels to The Kingdom Of Synnefa! Both Karl and Y/n were having a wonderful time chatting with one another about both the confusing rivalries between the carnivores and herbivores of the kingdom, as well as how the kingdom was slowly dying due to the mass amounts of pollution damage the “ground dwellers” have been inflicting on The Kingdom Of Synnefa.

Soon though, Y/n had to jump into their next travels- as well as Karl. They said their goodbyes to each other, both obviously upset about having to stop the fun and interesting chat.

“Look, when I leave I’ll figure out how I got in, okay? If I don’t figure it out, it’s been a real pleasure Karl Jacobs. Anyways, off to the abandoned water city I go!”

Karl nods and waves his hands frantically at them, eager and hopeful for Y/n to visit him again.

“See ya around Y/n!”

Y/n then proceeds to take out a small book and pen from inside their robe. They open it and quickly scribble something down before closing it and putting away. Y/n gives Karl a last friendly smile before disappearing in a snap. Before that, they manage to give him one last message.

“Hopefully!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isaac wakes up in his bed by the sea docks. Meeting what seems to be his friends and roommates, Benjamin, Cletus, Charles and Monroe. Distant arguing can be heard from the docks. One of the voices sound oddly more familiar than the others to Isaac. Isaac walks over to the dock and finds two people arguing.

“What’s going on here? Why are you guys arguing so early in the morning!”

The two people stand up and point at each other.

“MONROE DOESNT GIVE ME BACK THE F*CKING FISHING ROD!”

“BECAUSE THE LAST TIME YOU CAUGHT A FISH YOU KILLED IT, CLETUS!”

Monroe? Their voice sounds oddly similar to someone else’s, but Isaac can’t quite put his finger on it. He looks down ignoring the minor situation, when he sees a small leather book- then it clicks. Monroe is Y/n! But before Isaac confronts Monroe (Y/n), he picks up the small leather book. It isn’t the one that Y/n had when they left Karl’s In-Between, but it instead had what looked like the directions and coordinates for The Lost City Of Mizu!

“CHARLES! GET THE F*CK OVER HERE SO YOU CAN GUIDE US TO THESE COORDS!!”

Charles walks out of the shared dockside house alongside Benjamin, I hand him the book and start heading for the boats when Monroe stops me. They whisper loud enough so that I can only hear.

“Karl? Is that you?”

“Y/n?! You recognize me!”

We get on the same boat while the others get on theirs as well, and set off following Charles to The Lost City Of Mizu.

“Okay first, we call each other Isaac and Monroe, okay? Don’t break character.”

“I don’t even know HOW I remember! Usually I don’t until I leave!”

“Well that doesn’t matter right now, just try to act like Isaac and not Karl.”

And that’s what they did. Karl was Isaac and Y/n was Monroe.

Once they found The Lost City Of Mizu, they met a man named Ranbob. Ranbob was the last resident of the city, and offered to show the group around. Rooms and rooms of full on history! It was like a huge museum filled with information of a place Ranbob called The Dream SMP, and Karl and Y/n were eating it up. Ranbob had suddenly disappeared, but the group didn’t pay much mind of it as they were trying to get into the Tree Dome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tree Dome room was as marvelous as it was big. The tree was absolutely beautiful, and was also the supply of oxygen for the now abandoned city- though the tree still looks to be thriving tremendously. The group spots a chest on the tree and nominates Cletus to go and retrieve it. Branch after branch and he’s finally up there! But soon after fallen and blown into oblivion because in suddenly appears Ranbob with loads and loads on TNT. Placing it all around the tree and the room, all he says is

“No one survives when they come here.”

And

BOOM!

He sets off the TNT in the tree, Cletus. Before he died, Cletus luckily tossed the group the book he essentially died for so before reading it, the group ran out of the room and shut the iron doors.

The rest of the group had also found a book that had a key to a “Secret Room”, and very soon after they were making they’re way down a certain “Secret Room” only to be met with another book and a room to the side full of lava parkour. Apparently the last person to try and make it past the lava parkour failed, but they know the key or next clue HAS to be there, so Benjamin is nominated to do the lava parkour, failing and falling into the lava on the final step. Bravely after watching his friend die, Isaac (Karl) decides he’s gonna take a go at the parkour, and succeeds! He gets the key and directions to the final room before they can escape and heads to the final room with Monroe and Charles.

The final room is...strange, to say the least. Black brick walls and flooring, the walls lined with diamond armour and weapons. At the end of the small hallway rested what looked like a terrarium. One of the walls were made of glass so they could look in, and what they saw wasn’t what they were expecting. A normal flat biome with grass blocks, a mini cave in the corner that had a few gold ores in it if you looked hard enough, and the strangest of all was the statue of a looming, smiling, green figure in the very center.

“Everyone had a person they idolized.”

Ranbob suddenly appears, interrupting the 3 taking in the room.

“Ranbob? Dude what the f*ck?!”

Y/n reaches for one of the diamond axes lining the wall, when suddenly Ranbob unsheathes a netherite sword.

“Don’t touch anything.”

That’s enough to get Y/n to back up from both the weapons AND Ranbob.

“How are you even here? We thought you DIED!”

But Ranbob didn’t seem to be bothered nor wanted to be bothered by such minuscule questions, and instead walked towards the glass of the terrarium.

“This is my idol. His name is Dream.”

“Was he a good person..?”

Karl questioned hesitantly. He didn’t wanna anger or irritate Ranbob after seeing what he said to Y/n.

“Hmm, yes, he’s a good person. Depending on what you think.”

Karl walks up to the glass and shatters an opening with his elbow. He, Charles and Y/n step into the terrarium, observing the statue and its habitat more closely. But they didn’t get the chance to say much more. Ranbob unsheathes his sword for the last time, trapping everyone inside the terrarium.

“No one makes it out alive.”

GASP!

“What the- where are we?”

…

“Y/n…? Y/n! Your back!”

#tales of the smp #lost city of mizu #time travel #bee anon #fluff #x reader #mcyt x reader #reader insert #dsmp

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mi6-cafe · 3 years

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THE FINAL DRABBLES ARE IN!

COME READ THEM AND DECIDE WHOSE IS THE BEST, BETTER THAN ALL THE REST!

But first, what was the prompt again?

Our writers had to use the phrase “be careful what you fish for” in their 300-word drabbles verbatim.

See the drabbles below the line and VOTE!

(Image description: James Bond off on a fishing expedition)

But how, mods, how do we vote? you ask.

Step 1: Read the drabbles, making notes along the way.

Step 2: Pick three favourites and vote for them in the VOTING FORM while adding feedback for others if you so choose!

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Title: Compliments Author: sunaddicted Warnings: explicit flirting Summary: Q wasn't expecting to hear such a compliment

Seeing Silva bent down over his computer still sent a thrill down Q's spine; despite the fact that the man had become a more or less permanent fixture in Q-Branch, it didn't mean that the adrenaline kick he got out of facing the former rogue agent had gotten any weaker.

"That's some of my best work."

"Is it."

Q swallowed as he went to stand by the other man, peering down at the lines of code that Silva was studying with the kind of keen eye that made Q squirm, feeling naked even when Silva was looking at his work rather than directly at him.

Though, what was his work if not an extension of his being?

"Are you fishing for compliments, Quartermaster?"

Saying his title in such a caressing and satiny voice should have been made illegal. "Do I need to?" Q tried to ignore the hint of neediness in his voice, even as the flush he could feel blooming up his neck surely betrayed him. He couldn't help it: in his life, he had only met a man who was his equal - better, he had only met a man who could code circles around him, pushing him to do better; to think faster; to outgrow himself. It was exciting.

Raoul slowly turned around, a smirk already painted on his lips. "You have a great arse I would like to bend over this sturdy desk of yours."

"Wh- what?!"

The blonde bent down, lips ghosting against the shell of Q's ear in a caress that was barely there. "Be careful what you fish for, Quartermaster," Silva reached down and closed his hand on the other's hip in a steadying manner, fingers digging into the jutting bone there "You never know what kind of compliment will get thrown your way."

Title: A Fine Kettle Author: Anyawen Warnings: none Summary: LIke shooting fish in a barrel, really.

"This isn't what I had in mind when I said I needed an exit," Bond groused as his feet squelched in his ruined shoes. He'd never get the stink of fish out of this suit. He'd be lucky to scrub it off his skin.

"Well, you know what they say, 007. Be careful what you fish for," Q said, snorting at his own joke as Bond groaned.

"Don't even start, Q," Bond growled. Well. Tried to growl. If it came out as an amused whine Q was polite enough not to call attention to it.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Q said primly. "I found you an exit and left your adversaries floundering. You didn't even pull a mussel."

"I've endured torture more pleasant than—"

"Stop your carping; you’re giving me a haddock."

Bond inhaled slowly. Exhaled.

"What will it take to make you stop?"

"You'll have to shell out more than a few clams."

"Q," Bond begged. Yes. Begged. And yet, he knew that if he were standing in front of a mirror right now his reflection would be grinning. Q's jokes were terrible, and his puns were worse, but hearing him so lost in his amusement was a glorious thing.

"Bring all of your gear back for a start. No losing or breaking anything just for the halibut."

"I'll do my best," Bond promised.

"And dinner."

"I beg your pardon?" Bond asked, shocked. He'd been asking the Quartermaster to dinner for weeks.

"You need time to mullet over. That's fine. Just let minnow."

"Yes, Q. Obviously, yes."

"Excellent. I'm thinking sushi."

Bond couldn't help the laugh that slipped out. He could hear Q's smug grin.

"Just squidding," Q said, then hurried to add, "About the sushi. Not about dinner. And dessert. And afters."

"Afters?"

"Cuttles."

Title: Retrieval Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: none Summary: Q knew it had never been about her

Q came upon Dr Madeleine Swann serenely fishing from the riverbank. “Got one,” she announced, before handing the rod to him and walking away. Bemused, Q tugged, and the fish leapt from the murky river into his hand, scales flowing like water to engulf his entire arm. Face to face, it gave him a toothy grin.

“Be careful what you fish for,” it snickered as the trees around him exploded with gobbets of blue flame. Q dove into the river to escape and was dragged deeper, drowning, webbed hands holding him tight.

He flailed awake to a bed stained green with murky water, strands of river weed draped about. The windows were wide open, moonlight making the wet marks on the floor glisten.

“James?” he whispered. There was no answer. Not since James had taken the damn car and driven off. But there had been enough clues.

----

He took the river road, heading north. Every bridge was washed-out, every access to his destination blocked. He finally came upon an old-style ferry, its raft drawn along a heavy cable strung across the river.

The old raftman eyed him, then shrugged. Halfway across, the raft slowed as if hung up on something. The ferryman cursed and stamped his boot on the boards. As the raft drifted free again, he gave Q a wry look. “Hope you know what you’re about, lad.”

----

The waterhorse waited for him at the loch edge, burning eyes watching him warily as he approached.

“I never believed you left for her,” he said, tangling his hands in the wet mane. “And all the warnings of all the fair folk in the world couldn't keep me away.” He swung astride and held on. “You can either drown me or come home with me, James. It’s up to you, now.”

Title: Gone Fishing Author: Hexiva Warnings: None Summary: Alec is just trying to have a nice vacation. James has other plans.

Alec is fishing. He’s taken some much-needed vacation time after a knife to the leg on his last mission, and he’s chosen to go to Jamaica, in part because of how James’ face falls when he learns Alec is going without him. James loves Jamaica. Alec, for his part, loves having anything that James can’t have. The sky is blue. The ocean is a beautiful shade of blue-green. Alec lets his line dangle down into the warm water, and leans back in his boat with a sigh of contentment. And then the peace of the summer day is shattered as the water erupts, and a black-clad figure in scuba gear surges up out of the sea, gasping, and clambers into Alec’s boat, almost upsetting it. Alec’s hand flies to his gun, but before he can draw it, the diver pulls off his mask and reveals James’ familiar face. James is bruised and bleeding, and he gasps out, “Near miss. Good thing you were here.” “What the hell are you doing here?!” Alec demands. “I’m on vacation, James!” “Underwater base,” James explains, pointing down into the depths of the ocean. “Spying on our submarines. Blew it up and escaped.” “How do you do it, James?” Alec says, acidly. “How is it that no matter where you go - no matter where I go - there always seems to be some madman with an increasingly improbable scheme gunning for you? Can’t I have one vacation to myself?” It’s not James’ company he minds. It’s that this was supposed to be something he could take away from James. A chance to one-up the always charming James Bond. “Well, Alec,” James said, leaning in with his charming smile. “You know what they say. Be careful what you fish for.” “I hate you,” Alec said, with feeling.

Title: Dare to Wish Author: sorion Warnings: none Summary: A very nice welcome-home.

"Are you going to put away that blasted machine?" Bond asked, not even looking away from his skilled cooking.

"Hm?" Q hummed distractedly, not ceasing his typing.

"Your laptop, darling," Bond complained, making 'darling' sound more like a demand than an endearment. "Hm." The typing never faltered.

Bond reduced the heat on one of the other pans that he was juggling on the stove. "I was gone for over a month," he grumbled. "I even dared to hope that you were looking forward to seeing me again."

Q smiled, and the typing slowed. "One minute, and I'll be all yours, and yet you'll still be giving your attention to our dinner."

Bond couldn't help but grin. "What's so terribly important anyway?"

"Oh, just some matter of national security that I'd like off the table before we eat."

Bond laughed. "Bare feet, unbuttoned shirt, and saving the world. A marvel, you are."

"One step up from working in my pyjamas," Q quipped.

Bond sighed. "I'm never going to live that down, am I? What about the incident where you basically plugged Silva into our network?"

Q pulled a face. "That was... my first week as Q, and I desperately wanted to prove myself, and I may have-"

"Q," Bond interrupted. "I won't let you live it down, but I'm not holding it against you."

Q smiled. "Thanks. I do, on very rare occasions, get insecure."

"There's no need. Everyone knows how brilliant you are. And there's no need to be fishing for compliments."

"Not tonight. I'm just... fishing for affection."

His typing instantly stopped when a small box of unmistakable shape was put in front of him.

Bond caught his eyes and smiled. "Be careful what you fish for."

Q's breath stuck in his throat, and his eyes lit up. "Never."

Title: A Fishy Companion Author: Nana-chan Warnings: Summary: Bond makes friends with a merman

“Bond,” said the creature, his tone quite serious.

Bond merely grunted as he continued to mend his nets. He would not even look at the creature as he swam around him in the shallow water, his movements graceful. A bloody merman, for god’s sake. He’d found him tangled in his nets after a fishing expedition some way from the island and the merman, having been rescued, refused to leave Bond’s side ever since.

Now he queried: “Why is the fisherman so stingy?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not,” said Bond brusquely.

The merman replied, “Because his work made him sell-fish.”

Bond closed his eyes briefly. He’d been a double-O agent— a bloody good one— once upon a time. So long ago, it seemed. Retirement on this remote Caribbean island, in a wooden house with its own small pier, had been something he’d dreamed of, until retirement became more like exile and solitude gave way to loneliness.

Until this.

Bond found himself smiling despite himself as the merman persisted, “Why did the fisherman start doing drugs?”

“I don’t know. Why did he?”

“Pier pressure.”

The merman was beautiful, with dark hair and large green eyes that gazed into his rather owlishly. For reasons of his own, he’d named him Q.

Bond looked away. “I think I need a massage,” he said, wincing as he flexed his biceps.

“Have you heard about the Sauna that serves food?” Q piped up. “Their specialty is steamed mussels.”

“Why you—” Bond laughed before he could stop himself. “I ought to have left you in the nets. That might have made you less talkative.”

The merman swam up to him and settled his head boldly on his lap.

“Be careful what you fish for,” said Q, smiling.

Title: Go Fish Author: soufflegirl91 Warnings: adult humour Summary: Q Branch tech must be recovered no matter where the double-ohs lose it.

“Another bloody spoon,” Bond complained, releasing it from the magnet and tossing it on the pile building up at his feet. “How do people even lose spoons in a lake?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the same way you lose proprietary weaponry?”

“Q, for the last time, I didn’t-”

“Can we get any closer to the middle?” Q cut him off, tapping a few times on his tablet screen. “Maybe if we start at the deepest point and move outwards?”

Bond sighed, dropping the line back into the boat with a clatter. He pulled the engine cord, and with a roar, they were moving.

“THIS SHOULD DO,” Q yelled over the din.

Bond brought them to a stop, but Q didn’t wait for the engine to die down before continuing:

“I’VE ACTIVATED THE HOMING BEACON. THE LAKE’S DEEPER THAN I’D LIKE, BUT I SHOULD GET A SIGNAL ONCE WE’RE-” the engine died down with a final splutter, leaving Q yelling, “DIRECTLY OVER IT - oh.”

“You don’t get out on the water much, do you?” Bond quirked a grin at his flustered Quartermaster, flinging out the line on the starboard side.

“I wouldn’t have to get out on the water at all, if you didn’t go throwing away rocket launchers like they were crisp packets. Bond, what are you doing? I haven’t got a signal, yet.”

“Signal or not, I’ve caught something.”

Bond pulled on the Q-branch reinforced line, trying to reel it in. Whatever the line had caught, it was heavy. Finally, his catch cleared the water line.

He stared.

“Is that a tentacle dil-?”

“Well, you know what they say,” Q cut in.

He giggled. Giggled. Bond had a terrible feeling he knew what was coming next.

“No. Don’t you dare say it.”

“Be careful what you fish for!”

Title: Do I Really Want To Know? Author: IrishWitch58 Warnings: none Summary: Mallory contemplates a recent mission and the behavior of agent and Quartermaster.

Mallory hadn't gotten to his present position without understanding the value of differing approaches to acquiring information. There were circumstances when a simple question was all that was required. There were others when a figurative bludgeon was necessary. That was more often the case when he had someone dead to rights and just wanted an admission. But when something was more delicate, a search for something he suspected but hadn't been able to prove, he needed the skills of a wily fisherman tricking a trout out from under a rock to rise to the bait.

It was unacceptable that his Quartermaster and 007 had gone off coms for eighteen hours. True, the mission was completed, but Bond's bad habits seemed to have rubbed off on Q. Interviewing both had been useless. 'Yes', 'no' and 'equipment failure' were the sum of the responses. Utterly respectful but complete obstruction from both.

They were hiding something and he was worried. Certainly, disloyalty was possible but he had thought better of both of them. There was a chime from his computer and he glanced at the incoming message from accounting. “Can we have some clarification on these charges, please? Uncertain whether these are mission related.”

Mallory scanned the receipts. A moderately expensive hotel suite, room service, and a concierge fee for a trip to a chemist. All charged to one of Bond's aliases. On impulse he called the hotel. Five minutes later he ended the call and stared at the phone. Well, better than treachery certainly but still, Bond and Q? The concierge had found the couple charming and was sure they were a couple. Be careful what you fish for. Now what was he supposed to do? Better that they hadn't admitted anything. He didn't have to act if he didn't officially know.

Title: Shark Bait Author: Venstar / 1amvengeance Warnings: violence? People dedding Summary: what would you do for those you love?

Bond swam to the ladder access of the dock. A creak of the boards and he froze in place. He swung himself up, his movement was swift and deadly. The guard dropped as suddenly as he had appeared. Bond rolled him into the water. Through the mist, he could just barely make out the tip of a fin. He smiled. It was cold, calculating, and lacking in teeth.

“Almost there.” Bond smiled as a soft breath was let out over comms. “Were you worried?”

“About you or my mortgage and two cats? Because if you live, then maybe M won’t find out about this.”

This time Bond’s smile was wide and bright. “I’m glad we agree then.”

Bond cut a slit through his wetsuit until he could see his skin underneath. Slightly tan with a smattering of darker freckles. Was that a new mole? Maybe he should have it checked out. Too late. Blood welled up from where the mole had been. He grimaced.

“Bond? What are you doing?”

“Chumming the water.” He heard Q’s sharp intake of breath at the sound of him re-entering the water.

“Bond. This is the worst idea on the list of bad ideas.”

“I know what I’m doing, Q. Moving in, now.”

Silence from the other end as Q listened to him work. He slid through the water, coming up just under the opening of the warehouse. He pulled himself out, his eyes on his targets. He spared one glance for his lover, hoping that Felix could keep the two men distracted enough for him to...yes...to do that. The two men were tossed cut and bleeding into the dark water behind him. Their shouts of surprise turned into screams of pain and terror.

"Be careful what you fish for." Bond murmured, smiling at Felix.

#10

Title: Witnessed Author: oldestcharm Warnings: n/a Summary: James observes Q's methods. It pays off. Q is flexible. He can play an agent like a fiddle. Any time, any place. He knows exactly how to approach his agents — something James is rather impressed by. He'll let them stew for half an hour when necessary; he'll cosy up to them, all charm and innocence; or play up the socially inept IT intern. Sometimes, he gets mean. James particularly likes that part of Q. Whichever it is, though, Q's got them all wrapped around his long capable fingers. James can't look away. He hears from 002 about the 'banger of a DnD game' she apparently raked in the loot for. He also learns about the Deck of Many Things. It's surprisingly accurate for whatever happens next.

009 loses a chess match and gets equipped with a tractor instead of the Jeep he'd requested, although it goes 300 mph and has multiple cannons attached.

005 fails a coin toss and gains a squirt gun full of holy water for her mission at the Vatican. With a quirk of a smile, Q suggests Russian Roulette to Alec. He wins, but just barely.

Q equips his agents with the bare necessities, but unlike his predecessor, they all have to earn the goods. Q's gambling and James is determined to get his own. Q, ever the gentleman, asks what he's willing to play.

"Let's Go Fishin'," James tells him and just for a second Q looks startled. James' lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

"Be careful what you fish for," Q tells him, voice low and enticing. James leans forward, distracted.

"I win," Q says, eyes alight with excitement.

"It's a draw," James corrects, hoping his exhaustion won't show. Q's gaze grows sharp.

On his next mission, James finds an exploding pen in the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

#11

Title: To Fish or Not to Fish Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: Someone is sending weird presents to Q. He needs to figure out who that someone is.

The mug was ugly. Big, brown, and with a ceramic trout holding a plate “I fish you very much!” engraved in bold letters. It wasn’t the only thing that had been anonymously sent to Q for his birthday this week (other items included cheap chocolate and a teddy bear).

“This is getting ridiculous. Who would give me something so hideous?”

“You know what they say – be careful what you fish for!”

“That’s… not what they say.”

James smirked, obviously happy with himself.

Q continued: “Can you at least pretend that you’re jealous? It used to be you, sending me obnoxious gifts!”

“Don’t act like you thought it was romantic now, you hated it.”

He did. But he still had all the awful trinkets that James had sent him from missions before his retirement. They were displayed in his office, he couldn't force himself to throw them away. Maybe he was sentimental, after all.

“Perhaps it’s from a criminal who wants to infiltrate the MI6,” Q wondered.

James laughed. “I can guarantee you that it’s not a villain, the gifts are indeed from the heart.”

Of course he had something to do with it!

“And you can’t just tell me?”

“Nah. Let minnow when you figure it out!.”

“James, this was a terrible pun, even for you.”

“It’s not kraken you up?”

Truly not.

The question was who could send him these kinds of gifts? It seemed that they weren’t from some admirer either, seeing as James didn’t feel threatened. On the contrary, he was amused.

“Oh my God!”

Suddenly he knew. And it was horrifying.

“It’s from my mum.”

James grinned: “I love that woman. She understands that fish puns are fin-tastic!”

With horror, Q realised that against his better judgment, he had ended up marrying his own mother.

#12

Title: One Hell of a Strange Fish Author: Misha / artsytarts Warnings: none, just lols Summary: Fishing at lake Erie can be more exciting than you think.

Felix sighed happily as he sat on his little bench in his little boat and let his mind wander. Bliss like this was hard to come by. A weekend of fishing, peace and relaxation was awaiting him and there was nothing that could spoil it.

Just as he’d finished the thought, a sudden tug at his fishing rod almost made him topple over the rim of his boat. Felix caught himself and cursed, put his feet down and with all his strength, he started reeling in the gigantic fish. It was putting up one hell of a fight. Gritting his teeth, Felix pulled and pulled, until, with an almighty splash, it broke the surface and screamed, just as the hook zinged past Felix’ ear.

Wait… Screamed?

Felix blinked.

“What do you think you’re doing, you bloody idiot!!” the man, not fish, exclaimed and ripped his diving mask off. He glared daggers at Felix, who still stood poised with his rod in hand.

Then the man frowned. “Felix?” he said incredulously.

“James?!”

“What on earth are you doing up there?”

“Me?! What are you doing down there?!”

James huffed, paddling against the water. “I asked first.”

“Well, I’m on holiday.” Felix held up the evidence. “Fishing trip. What about you?”

“Assignment,” James answered simply.

The mental image of a mushroom cloud above lake Erie filled Felix’ head. “Hell. Should I be worried?”

“Not particularly,” James said. “Anyway, should get going. Nice chatting with you.”

“Hold on, James, what –”

“Next time… Be careful what you fish for!” James called out, shoved his mouthpiece back between his teeth and submerged.

“Did you just…” Felix began, but James was already gone.

With a sigh, Felix let himself fall back into his seat and rubbed his forehead. They had to stop meeting like this.

#13

Title: Gone Fishing Author: Merc / the moon of mercury Warnings: none Summary: sometimes Bond prefers not to talk about his missions.

“Now you’re just preening,” Q says, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. “Fishing for compliments. Really, Double-O-Seven, must you always make such a show of everything?”

Bond shrugs and finishes straightening his tie, not bothering to argue. He had been admiring his own reflection on the window of the newly painted DB10.

“Quite a dashing image, if I do say so myself. That’s the point, isn’t it? It’s the Geneva Motor Show, no one’s going to take me for a collector if I don’t look the part. What do you think?”

“I’m not the one you need to convince. All I care about is that you get the job done and bring back my car in one piece.”

“Why so grumpy, Q? I’d hoped you’d at least extend the sentiment to my person besides the car. And maybe wish me good luck? I have a feeling this one won’t be easy.”

“Bollocks, you’re going to seduce her, get the intel, and spectacularly blow things up. All of which you invariably accomplish every time. So, off you go and lay your bait. But please, do me a favour and think of the poor car while you’re at it.”

* *

Q is right. The rich widow falls for his charms, spills her secrets, and buildings explode. Even the Aston survives. A success, all things considered.

Still, it takes him a week after returning to London to face his Quartermaster. The ugly love bites have faded and the overwhelming stench of perfume is nothing but an unpleasant memory. But Q has recordings of the events that went down in her boudoir, and Bond knows for sure he won't let it go.

Unfortunately, his foresight proves right.

“Be careful what you fish for,” he quips the moment Bond steps in, dissolving into laughter.

#14

Title: Look at the Bright Side Author: MrKsan / starrboned Warnings: none Summary: The Quartermaster's job is never easy.

When Bill entered the office, it was dark and quiet. Q sat slumped, painted pale blue under the light of the computer screen.

“Q?” Bill whispered, unsure what he stepped into.

Q looked up, blinking slowly.

“Bill. What are you doing here?”

Bill approached the desk, turning on the lamp. Q flinched from the light, like the sleep-deprived vampire that he was.

“It’s midnight, Q.” Tanner sighed, taking in the wide eyes and the dark shadows under them. “Bond came back hours ago. Why are you still here?"

Q blinked. Bill could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

Christ.

Q pushed a glass bowl from behind the screen. The water inside sloshed wildly from the sharp movement, stirring awake the creature inside.

“It's a... fish?"

“Bond brought it,” Q said. He glared at the fish like it's the source of all of his problems.

“He got you a fish?”

“No,” Q said, eyes narrowing. “He brought back the micro-sized, water-proofed, indestructible hard drive made especially for this mission, containing all the stolen information M asked for."

Bill glanced back at the fish. The fish, who had very sharp teeth inside its slightly gaping mouth.

“Is the hard drive -”

“It's inside the damn piranha!" Q hissed, smacking his head on the table.

Bill couldn't help it.

"Be careful what you fish for, huh?” He said, earning a sharp stare from under the dark mop of curls.

“At least he brought back the equipment this time,” Bill said, smiling apologetically. “Come on, you won’t get anything done by glaring at the fish.”

Q sighed, heavily, but took Bill’s offered hand and stumbled to a stand.

“At least it’s not a komodo dragon this time,“ Q said, as they stepped into the empty parking lot.

Bill couldn't help but laugh.

#15

Title: Cracked Author: solarmorrigan Warnings: n/a Summary: Bond and Q bring down a villain and have a few laughs.

Waves lapped at the sand, offering a gentle, rhythmic backbeat to the sounds of a madman’s island base crashing down in flames.

Bond and Q stood side by side on the beach, each sooty, disheveled, and soaked to the bone. They were sporting various bumps and bruises, some scrapes and burns, but they were pleased with themselves, nonetheless. It had been a grueling few days’ work, filled with more fire, gunplay, and close encounters with sharks and other sharp-toothed marine life than Q was usually comfortable with, but they’d done good work. Yet another villainous plot soundly foiled.

“Well,” Q sighed, “I suppose it’s true what they say.”

“What’s that, Q?” Bond asked idly.

Snickering preemptively, Q answered, “Be careful what you fish for.”

The expected eye-roll and long-suffering sigh never came. Instead, Bond’s expression went curiously blank, before a smile cracked over his face and he began to laugh. It started as a small chuckle before morphing into true, shoulder-shaking amusement, and Q’s own smile slid away in alarm. The joke wasn’t that funny – not that Bond ever laughed at his puns to begin with.

“Oh god, did you sustain head trauma while I wasn’t looking?” Q demanded, his fingers twitching towards Bond’s scalp.

Bond shook his head, still chuckling lightly. “I’m fine, Q. In fact… I’m fintastic.”

In spite of the suspicious anxiety churning in Q’s chest, he couldn’t help it; the pun was so terrible, so ill-timed, so entirely out of place, that Q had to laugh. “Oh, that’s it,” he gasped between giggles, “you’ve finally cracked.”

“I’m fine, Q,” Bond said again, then leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Q’s smiling mouth before giving him a small shove in the direction of their getaway boat. “Now let’s get out of here.”

*****

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piduai · 3 years

Text

Q&A corner from the DVD bundle of the 15th volume of Golden Kamuy

this one is also questions from the seiyuus. sharing anyone is fine, but please credit me.

Shiraishi Haruka (Asirpa)

Q1: What does Asirpa have in the bag she's always carrying on her back?

Noda: Condiments such as dried Alpine leeks and soft windflower, cooking oil, winter clothes, tableware, a small pot, deer whistle, punishment rod, etcetera, etcetera.

Q2: What happened to her precious crusty fish cake she thought was what's left of Dick-sensei?

Noda: It's in her bag as well.

Q3: I love the mix of the serious and the humorous in Golden Kamuy. Does the humor come out naturally as you draw? Do you enjoy comedy?

Noda: When there's a stranded serious atmosphere I just feel like destroying it. (crotch shines)

Kobayashi Chikahiro (Sugimoto Saichi)

Q1: If you were to voice someone in the series, whom would you choose?

Noda: Henmi Kazuo.

Q2: Is there a reason to why Sugimoto won't take off his cap even when going into the ocean or an onsen?

Noda: I just thought that keeping the cap on while naked is sexy.

Q3: What was the most impactful thing that you encountered while doing research?

Noda: I talked about deer hunting here and there before so I'll leave it out, other than that, encountering a bear and its cub at Daisetsuzan and being chased by a group of stray dogs in Sakhalin. There are stray dogs the size of German shepherds in there. I got to do a lot during my research and gained many good experiences.

Nakata Jouji (Hijikata Toshizou)

Q1: Do you already know how you're going to end the story?

Noda: I know how I want to end it, and there's not that much left. I want the landing to be akin to one of a gymnastics gold medalist, but I refuse to rush through things and make it ugly just to reach the conclusion, out of both pride as a professional mangaka and responsibility towards my readers.

Q2: Even the villains have their dedicated spotlight and are overflowing with charm. What makes a villain attractive in your eyes?

Noda: Doing their best. No matter how repulsive their deeds, as long as they're showing earnest dedication, I just want to aid them. However, when it comes to ethics, every reader has their own boundaries, so it's hard to know where to stop. I'm sure a lot of readers think that I've already crossed the line.

Itou Kentarou (Shiraishi Yoshitake)

Q: I think there's a lot of other characters who, like Shiraishi, were based off someone. There's a Nihei in both your previous work, Supinamarada!, and this one. Is he based off someone too? Is it possible that they are blood related?

Noda: There's a lot of factors to it, but Nihei's philosophy of the winner being decided in one shot was taken from a real life high school hockey team supervisor who is said to be a big deal. What he meant by that is that there is one decisive moment during a match, and if you play thinking of second chances you're going to miss it. Isn't it mesmerizing? I was told by staff from that school that Nihei looks exactly like that supervisor. It wasn't my intention at all, how curious. And yes, I think the two Niheis are blood related.

Ootsuka Houchuu (Tsurumi Tokushirou)

Q: Tsurumi is so unique and enigmatic, I became a big fan of him upon acting as him. I'm very interested what historical or movie figures served as his models.

Noda: I made the resemblance to Hannibal Lecter and Gary Oldman's character from Leon quite deliberate. There's also Hitler's mannerisms, I used it for misleading, but they're there. I've also been channeling Hans Landa from Inglourious Basterds through him. Tsurumi is supposed to be this elegant, intellectual kind of freak. Like Gomez Addams.

Nomura Kenji (Ushiyama Tatsuma)

Q1: Ushiyama seems to have been dragged into the race of gold for the gold itself, but does he have any other goals? Or does he act on instinct? Don't tell me... He's only in there for the women...

Noda: Maybe it will become clear later. I wouldn't call Ushiyama particularly calculating, though. Maybe he really is in only for the women, after all.

Q2: I'm curious about Ushiyama's personality. He doesn't seem to be doubting the people around him much. Does he judge others going by intuition?

Noda: He is very strong, so he assumes that he can just kill the ones who betray him whenever he wants. I think that the stronger someone is, the more lenient. He can get along just fine with someone and then just instantly strike them down if they cross the line, scary guy.

Tsuda Kenjirou (Ogata Hyakunosuke)

Q: Golden Kamuy is a crazy story full of crazy characters. Do you ever happen to think, "wow, that's not okay" about yourself? Or got told this by anyone?

Noda: When I was in Sakhalin, a Nivkh family took me in and let me have a few traditional dishes. There was a high school girl in that family. She seemed to be into Japanese anime, and asked us what work we're researching for. So I kindly told her that it's One Piece. She got so excited. Like, frothing at the mouth level excited. "One Piece really is something, huh", I thought to myself.

#golden kamuy #noda satoru #translation

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bearlytolerant · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Bethany x Alistair (Bethistair)

Rating: T

Ch WC: 3115

AO3

Chapter 4

He was dreaming the most wonderful dream. He was old, he could tell by the amount of wrinkles on his hand. Her also. She had the same wrinkles in her skin as his as he held her, staring out over the lake. The sun was just setting and it was warm. Summer, it must have been. It was beautiful, almost as beautiful as her. Elissa smiled at him, her face clear as day and leaned into his shoulder. He kissed her forehead. They remained that way for what seemed an eternity and then—

He had to piss. Nothing was as jarring as that feeling after a nice dream. Alistair went about his business, the dream fading even though he’d clung to it desperately.

He crawled back into his bed. Squeezed his eyes shut. If he could just go back to sleep, he could be with her again. He pulled the blanket tighter. Burrowed himself in its dark and let himself be hollow. The day could start without him right?

He never slept.

Just sort of curled up into himself and let his mind lecture him instead.

Get out of bed Alistair.

No matter how many times his mind told him to get out of bed or tried to entice him with life’s beautiful delights, including the promise of spring, there seemed to be this external invisible force pressing him further into his mattress and he couldn’t get it off. That sudden urge to cry came over him again. Maker, would it ever end?

Clattering by his bed and Alistair groaned. Why hadn’t he written a decree stating that not a single soul could be in his castle excluding his son and the healer?

“I brought you some breakfast. The servants claim you haven’t been eating.”

Great. Somebody had called in the calvary. He clung even tighter to his blanket.

“Alistair. You can’t just lie in bed all day.”

He heard Anora sigh. A bit dramatic in his opinion.

He mentally prepared for her to yell at him or give him a stern talking to. She never came to the castle otherwise.

“Trust me. If I could have just lain in bed all day after Cailan passed, I would have. I understand how you must feel. But you’re not doing anyone any good by not eating. You want to waste away? Leave Bryce without either of his parents?”

The Maker knew his brain was useless for getting him out of bed so he’d thought it’d be comical to send Anora instead. He should count himself lucky.

Light blinded him as the blanket was ripped away. He should’ve clutched it tighter. Blankets these days were as precious as pearls.

“Get up. We’re going to the lake.”

He balked, shrinking away, scrambling for a cozy shadow. “But I don’t want to,” Alistair whined.

“But you’re going to. So sit up. Eat. Get your big boy pants on and meet me at the front gate in an hour. Or so help me I will drag you out of this bed myself and spoon feed you.”

He dared to glance at Anora. She was serious, of course. She shoved a glass of orange juice at him. He eyed it suspiciously as she rolled her eyes and forced it into his hands.

“Now drink,” she commanded.

He hesitated more out of defiance than anything. “I could have you thrown from court for how you’re speaking to me. Could even put your head on a pike.” Emphasis on the last word had to have sounded threatening.

Her eyes nearly rolled out of her head that time. “For Andraste’s sake Alistair, don’t be so morbid.” She shook her head and muttered something about an insufferable little brother. She handed him a piece of buttered toast next.

“Where am I supposed to put that?”

“In your mouth.”

He glared. Drank his juice and traded the empty glass for the toast. He took the world's smallest bite out of it and chewed. And chewed. And chewed. After he swallowed, Anora patted him on the cheek.

“There, wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Why are you here?” Alistair asked.

She cleaned the dirt from her nails with a brush she seemingly pulled out of nowhere. “Fergus has been concerned so he sent for me. He knows you listen to my council.”

Alistair scoffed. “More like I let you boss me around.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

After all this time, Alistair still wanted to stick his tongue out at some point in every interaction with her. He shoved his toast in his mouth instead. He didn’t miss that coy smirk on her face either.

She rose and strutted towards the door. “I’ll be seeing you in a short while. Oh, and do wear something comfortable.”

She exited like she was leading an army. Alistair glanced down at his nightshirt. A miserable army of one. He managed to finish half his breakfast and throw on some clothes before the time allotted to him. Though, his main motivator at that point was getting to check on Bryce before he went on an excursion with Anora.

He spotted Bethany and he froze. She should be at breakfast like every other morning when he visited Bryce. And he had been avoiding her for nearly a month, successfully, ever since what he referred to as the incident. He had half a mind to turn around and walk right back out that door.

“Oh good morning,” she said. She was even smiling. Then she motioned him over. Did she not remember him losing his shit over roses? “He’s been having longer periods of wakefulness. Though, he still often calls me his mum.”

All thought of embarrassing incidents, anxieties and what have you dispersed when he heard that. “He calls you mum? Does he not realize…” Alistair didn’t want to say it.

She shook her head and adjusted Bryce’s pillow, smoothed out his blanket. “You may or may not have to remind him. I wouldn’t worry about it now. It’s still too soon to tell whether his memory is affected long term. Of the patients I’ve seen sharing his condition, many have suffered from short term memory loss. I have rarely seen otherwise.”

Rarely. The word wasn’t lost on him. Alistair didn’t think he could explain her death to Bryce again. Maker, wasn’t once enough? He shuddered at the thought and Bethany’s hand was over his.

“Really, you shouldn’t worry.” She squeezed his hand then let it go.

Shouldn’t worry.

Good advice but his heart couldn’t take it. Alistair leaned over and kissed his son’s forehead. “I love you,” he murmured. Then pulled back.

“I will return again after dinner. I’d like to read him some things.”

Bethany nodded. “I think that’s an excellent idea.” She smiled gently at him and the thought crossed him that she had a very pretty smile. Not that he should notice such a thing. Maker, what was he thinking? Hadn’t he just dreamed of his wife this morning? Now he was admiring another woman’s smile?

Forgive me.

He rushed away from Bethany before he thought something else he shouldn’t possibly think.

—

He really didn’t want to be at the lake. Too many bad memories. Too much guilt. Too few enjoyments. And it was cold. Not quite Ferelden winter cold but the wind had a bite and nipped at the tips of his ears. He ticked the reasons off one by one, keeping his worries at bay with complaints until Anora interrupted his thoughts, shoving a fishing rod into his hands. He’d rather try aiming for fish with a bow and arrow. Fishing with a rod was a slow, agonizing way to catch fish, one in which he was left to marinate in his morose musings.

“Already has a worm. Do you prefer to fish off shore or…”

Neither. He didn’t like fishing at all. It was by far one of the most boring and wretched past times he’d ever encountered.

“Shore it is,” she decided for him.

“I don’t like fishing,” he said. But plodded after her anyway.

“Oh, I know. But I do. I find it quite relaxing.”

“Then why not go by yourself? Bringing me along with you seems the opposite of relaxing.”

“I should confess then, I did not bring you along for my benefit.” She cast her line.

“I already mentioned I don’t like fishing. Did you have a lapse in hearing?”

“My hearing is excellent. The benefit is you getting out of bed, getting some sun and fresh air while putting your duties for the day off for a few more hours. Perhaps it would be a good time for you to take your mind off things.”

Her motives were good, he could admit but they were absolute bollocks. The sky was overcast and looked like it would burst into tears at any moment. How was he supposed to get any sun? And if the fresh air was going to smell like fish, especially dead fish, he didn’t want it.

Alistair sighed and attempted to cast his own line. He got it tangled up in the reeds along the shore. Then he cursed and threw the rod on the ground. “Blast! I think I’d do better wrangling fish out of the water with my bare hands.”

Anora sniggered. “What a sight that would be.”

“I’m going to take a walk.”

“No, no!” She grabbed his cloak sleeve. “Stay. If it helps you can talk and I’ll try my very best to listen.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “I—no. I’m good. No need for a talk.”

Not that he didn’t want to talk. Talking would probably do him good. But he couldn’t think of anyone to talk to. Fergus maybe. Though Alistair didn’t feel like he could be honest without diminishing his grief. Ferguson had been through far worse and he didn’t seem to struggle to get himself together. It intimidated him.

“Fine. Have it your way.” She picked up his rod then and fixed his line, casting it for him. She placed it back in his hands. “I’m really sorry for your loss Alistair. However, being so sullen doesn’t suit you or your kingdom. I’m not saying you can’t grieve, just maybe try keeping it contained, hm?”

Alistair closed his eyes. “And how do you propose I just contain my sullenness?”

“Try fishing for starters.”

He wanted to mock her in a tiny man child voice but he refrained. Thankfully he had Morrigan as a traveling companion long enough to train him in the art of biting his tongue. As well as shoving his foot straight into his mouth but that was another story for another day.

He fished silently alongside her wishing desperately to be back with Bryce. The fresh air didn’t feel any different than the drafty castle. The sun was nice at least, when it decided to make an appearance. But the sky was looking more sullen by the minute and the wind was picking up.

“Isn’t this a terrible time to fish?” he asked.

“Any time is a good time to fish,” Anora said.

“I don’t think that’s true. I remember there were certain times fish were more likely to bite.”

“We’re not here for dinner,” Anora snapped.

“So we’re just dipping worms in water for what? Fun? Sounds like torture.” He reeled his line in and studied the sad soggy worm on the hook. “Aw see? Now the poor little worm is a goner. I’ll have to make it a little worm grave.” He removed the worm and set his pole in the crook of some driftwood.

“Stop being ridiculous.”

“I won’t stop until you let me go back to my bed.”

“You know, I was quite fond of Lady Cousland. She was much better at fishing than you.”

“She was much better than me at a lot of things.”

“She was at that.” Anora got a bite on her line. She tugged her rod and reeled it in. No trouble at all.

Alistair sat on the driftwood with his chin in his hands. “I don’t mean to be so morose. I just miss her. I miss her terribly.”

Anora unhooked the fish–a cute little perch–and tossed it back into the water. She set her own pole aside and sat next to Alistair.

“I miss her terribly too,” Anora said.

“You do?”

“Yes. Is that really so surprising? I’d miss you too, even though you’re quite the lummox.”

“Aww,” Alistair placed a hand over his heart, “such warm fuzzy feelings, right here.”

“Must you always act like this?”

“Only with you. One day you’ll come to appreciate it. I–I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye and I’m glad you and Elissa became close after–well after everything. You could have found a clever way to toss us from the throne but you didn’t.”

“Not yet anyway. I could still.”

Alistair allowed himself the tiniest of smiles. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Treason!”

Anora clamped her hand over his. “You are such a child!”

A sort of chuckle snort escaped from Alistair as Anora placed her hands back in her lap. He noticed she could smile too. “I’d still like to take a walk. You could come with me, if you wanted. I promise I won’t run away or do anything stupid.”

She nodded. “I’d like to keep fishing. But do be back in time for dinner. I can’t keep you out forever.”

Alistair nodded and stood. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Anora was taken aback. “An honest thank you? With no snide remark? I–well you’re welcome then I suppose. Now shoo, enjoy the fresh air.”

Alistair went without further ado. Surprisingly, it did him some good. But when he entered the castle later that day to attend to his duties, his heart seemed heavy again.

–

Bethany wasn’t exactly sure if she should be in the room when Alistair came back. He had been dodging her since the garden. But she was tired and the fire was cozy. She also enjoyed seeing this side of the King and had missed him–no missed him interacting with Bryce. He was a kind and tentative father. Much like how her own had been. She pretended to read a book she had no interest in to provide an illusion of privacy.

“…and the young boy bravely reached out to touch the dragon’s snout. His friends gasped, waiting and watching for him to be scorched by fire. But the dragon closed its eyes and huffed, melting under the touch of the boy.” Alistair let out a big yawn. “I think that’s all I can manage tonight. We’ll have to pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

Bethany stole a glance in their direction. Alistair was returning the book to the nightstand. Bryce was fast asleep.

He stretched and she admired his form. Strong arms, wide shoulders, and a slightly rounded belly that she briefly dreamed of laying on. Then her eyes flicked lower and saw he also had quite a lovely bottom, not that she was focusing too much on it. Just appreciative. She told herself to look away and stop thinking such things. He turned and definitely caught her staring. She tore her eyes away and buried her nose in the book. Cheeks flushed.

She pretended not to hear his footsteps coming towards her. The book was really really interesting then. She nearly bore a hole through the book with her immense interest.

He sat across from her.

“I haven’t properly thanked you for all you have been doing to help my son. So, I uh—“ He ran a tired hand through his shoulder length hair, wisps of reddish brown bangs with hints of gray, flopping to each side of his face. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome. Though I must say, it’s a pretty easy thing to do.”

“I don’t think most people would share your opinion.”

She laughed a little. “It’s a good thing I’m not most people then, isn’t it?”

He gave a half hearted chuckle coupled with a nod.

Then they both stared into the fire. Bethany wanted to say something more. Have an actual conversation but she wasn’t even sure where to start. Her brain kept wanting to think about the way her fingers would feel running through his hair. Through his beard and–

“Can I ask you something?”

Praise the maker. “Yes, of course.”

“Do you ever dream of him?”

She tilted her head, searching her mind for the him he was referring to. She blinked as everything came up blank.

“Your brother, I mean. Of Garret.”

“Oh!” Her eyes lit up and then that sad sort of feeling pooled in her stomach. She sighed. “Of course I do. They are always happy. And he is always safe. When I wake up, I remember that it’s all a lie and it hurts.”

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

“Yes, in a way.”

“Hm.” He tugged at his beard.

“Have you been dreaming of your wife?”

“Yes,” he said. His hands came to rest in his lap and he fiddled with the hem of his nightshirt.

“Would you tell me about her?”

Alistair glanced up then. Eyes wide like she was asking him to jump off a cliff.

“I–I don’t really know where to start.”

“How about your dream? Do you remember it?”

“Yes.”

“Well I’d love to hear about it if you’re willing to tell me.”

And he did. He told her all about how they had grown old together. How it made him feel. How it had affected his entire day. How it tore him up inside.

“I just–when the person you share everything with, including your deepest secrets and darkest hurts–when they die, who do you turn to? Normally, they’d be your person. But she isn’t here and it’s so incredibly unfair. Which is ridiculous to think, I know. Life isn’t fair and all that.”

Bethany reached out without thinking, covering his large hand with her smaller one and squeezed. “It’s really not. It’s understandable you feel that way. I’m so sorry Alistair. You’re right. It is incredibly unfair. It’s unfair that the world took what you loved most and still moved on, leaving you to pick up pieces of yourself in the throes of responsibility. It must be difficult.”

“It–it is.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, retracting his hand. Then he bolted upright out of his chair. “I’ve taken up too much of your evening, Bethany. Have a good night,” he spit the words out in a hurry as he fled.

“You too, I guess,” she muttered, then doused the fire with a cone of frost.

#dragon age #Bethany x Alistair #bethistair #Bethany Hawke #alistair theirin #holding space #chapter 4 #bear writes #will I ever consistently update anything?#your guess is as good as mine

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whumpering-heights · 4 years

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Immortal drowning

A/N: I found a prompt of tying a weight to an immortal whumpee’s feet and drowning them, but I couldn’t find it. So, while I can’t take full credit for this idea, I do like how it turned out. CWs for drowning and some gore/light body horror near the end (after the caretakers are introduced) ___________________

“Kill it!” Screamed the crowd. “Kill the witch!” Johnathan would’ve liked to see them try. “I’m not a witch!” He yelled. “I’ve never hurt any of you!” This only riled the crowd up more. A rock flew from the mob, hitting Johnathan square in the temple. A loud crack sounded and lights danced in front of his eyes. He staggered, only the guards holding him keeping him on his feet. But after a moment, the wound healed itself and he could see clearly again. The guards who weren’t occupied with dragging him, had to keep the crowd from tearing into him right then and there. Johnathan wondered what they were going to do. Most likely they’ll try multiple things, once they realised no execution would stick. He felt sick to his stomach. This was going to hurt. But he should be able to escape. Human attention spans were imperfect, and he had all the time in the world. They were bound to slip up sometime. With some bewilderment, he suddenly realised they weren’t headed for the town square. Not the prison, either. Instead, his captors were dragging him outside of town. For a second, Johnathan was puzzled. Then, he saw the shore. It was noon, but the dark clouds made it look like dusk. A small boat lay ready for take-off, next to it an anvil and many chains and rope. When Johnathan realized what was about to happen, his legs gave out. The guards grunted in surprise, but kept him upright. All sound around Johnathan faded, as the only thing left in his awareness became the anvil. Once he regained control of his legs, he struggled like a feral animal. “No, please!” He begged. “Y-you can’t, please, I beg you!” The crowd only jeered. As they dragged him ever closer to his imminent doom, his struggling feet finding no purchase in the sand, his pleading became less comprehensible. “No, no, please, good people, I-I swear onto God, I’ll do anything, just, please-” His pleas were cut off when one of the guards shoved a rag in his mouth and tied a gag around his face. Johnathan could only whimper as two of the guards held him down in the sand, while the rest started binding the anvil to his legs. Some ropes and chains were looped though his handcuffs in front of him, ensuring a proper bond. Johnathan was crying openly now. The crowd cheered as he was dumped in the boat and two men came with to dispose of him.

The clouds opened up and rain fell down. The men rowing the boat didn’t seem to notice. Johnathan lay in between them, shaking with terror. This terror intensified when the men stopped rowing. They had arrived. Johnathan tried to plead with his eyes. I have never hurt a soul, he tried to say. Please, have mercy. But his pleading went unheard. The men raised the anvil and dropped it down the side of the boat. As it hit the water, Johnathan was scraped over the wooden planks. He tried dig his nails into the wood, leaving long scratches along the bottom and side. With a last, desperate cry, he disappeared into the sea.

The cold water shocked him, the salt stinging his eyes. He felt the water rush around him as he sank. He knew it was futile, but he instinctively held his breath. Soon enough, the anvil hit the bottom. He continued sinking a bit more due to momentum but bounced back until the line was taut. His lungs felt like they were burning. A small part of his brain thought he might as well get it over with, but he was still too scared to open his mouth and face the pain. He squirmed and struggled, as his throat spasmed for the need of air. Involuntarily, he opened his mouth to gasp. Salt water rushed in his mouth and throat, and he tried to cough it up. This only made him take on more water. His chest spasmed, trying to expel the liquid. His muscles cramped and twitched as his body tried to swim despite the chains. Finally, a darkness creeped in from the corners of his eyes. His struggling slowed down. He stopped trying to breathe, a strange kind of comfort tugging at his conscience. He slipped under.

He awoke with a sharp pain in his chest. He screamed, pushing the water out that settled in his lungs and letting new water in. It made him go unconscious faster, but that was a mercy. It didn’t make his frantic struggeling any less terrified, though.

He didn’t know how long it had been. Despite the proof to the contrary, his brain was still convinced he was dying, and didn’t allow any other thoughts. Plants had started growing on the anvil, the chains, and on him, yet his instinctive struggles stayed just as desperate. Sometimes, if he had the presence of mind to hold his breath when he woke up, he could be shortly aware of the light dancing so high above him, shining though the surface. But those moments of conscience thought never lasted long, soon replaced by the desperate panic that had become his existence.

-------------------

Lisa stared into the sea. She had never gone big game fishing before. Her safety vest made her feel a bit better, but being on the small boat in the middle of the sea still made her a bit nervous. Her uncle threw a bucket of dead fish overboard. “Bait.” He explained. Lisa went a bit pale around her nose. If the bait was the size of salmons, how big were the fish they were going to catch? Her uncle laughed. “Now, don’t you look so worried, Lisa. I’ve been doing this since I could walk, so I should know what I’m doin’. You’re in safe hands.” Lisa smiled. “Thanks, uncle Rick.” She walked away from the edge of the boat and sat down on the deck. Her uncle took his place near the fishing rod. It was attached to the boat and motorized. “Now, remember,” said her uncle. “It might take a while for something to bite, but that’s just what’s fun-” His eyebrows raised as the rod bent down. “Oh, I’ve caught somethin’ already! Lisa, a hand!” Lisa ran over and helped reel in the catch. It was a little exciting, she thought. She wondered what kind of fish they would see. Her uncle laughed. “My, that feels like a big one! 800 pounds, at least! I should bring you for trips more often, you bring luck!” Lisa chuckled and peered into the water. As the catch slowly came into view, her blood ran cold. “Uncle Rick?” Her voice trembled. He looked up in concern. “What is it, girl?” “I... I think that’s a body.” Shaking, she pointed to the silhouette in the water. Her uncle put the reel on brake and followed her finger. He turned white as a sheet. “Oh... Oh my god.” Below them, a vague outline of a person hang on the hook. It had caught on the many chains and ropes binding it. They couldn’t see the details of it, yet. Lisa’s eyes teared up. Her uncle threw an arm around her. He was shaking, too. “You can wait in the cabin, love.” He said softly. “You don’t need to see this.” Lisa looked up at him. “You’re reeling it in?” “Well, I can hardly leave it here.” “But what if it was... Y’know. What if it’s a crime scene?” Her uncle stared at the barely visible figure. “I reckon it might be. But if I leave it, I won’t be able to find it again.” Lisa nodded. “Okay. I’m staying. I want to help.” “Are you sure? Who knows how long it’s been in there. I really don’t think you should see it.” “Well, someone has to. I’m helping.” Lisa insisted. Her uncle sighed, and they solemnly reeled in the corpse.

Lisa felt bile rising up in her stomach as the body was lifted from the water. The body seemed to be of a young man with long, tangled hair. His clothes were barely recognisable as such, and barely covered his skeletal body. After soaking in the water for god knew how long, his deathly pale skin had become bloated and blotchy. It was even peeling off in places. It took Lisa and her uncle some effort to lift the anvil into the boat. Lisa caught sight of the ropes and chains around the body’s leg. They had been embedded into his swollen skin. The blood supply had been cut off, and his feet had turned black. She gagged. “Well,” her uncle said. “It’s actually not that bad.” “Not that bad?” She cried. “He looks awful!” “Yeah, but you’d think he’d be rotting and stuff. Must not be dead that long. Poor soul. I’ll contact the shore, let them know what we found.” He went into the cabin. Lisa studied the corpse’s face. He did look terrible, but he still had his eyes and nose and such. He almost looked like he was just unconsious. In fact... she rubbed her eyes. Did she just see his eyebrow twitch? Before she could mention it to her uncle, the corpse’s eyes flew open and it gasped. She screamed and fell back. The corpse turned on his side and started vomiting up water. The heaves and wet coughs sounded like no sound a human should make. “Uncle Rick! It’s alive!” Her uncle came outside. “That impossible, there’s-” He stopped as he took in the man, who was wracked with raspy coughing fits. A small fish leapt out of his mouth. Her uncle’s eyes showed white all around them. “That’s... that’s impossible.” He grabbed a mop lying around and brandished it like a weapon. “What’s wrong?” asked Lisa. “We saved him just in time! We should help-” “Dearie, that thing has been underwater so long, it has barnacles.” Snapped her uncle. “Whatever it is, it should be dead.” The former corpse had finished coughing up the contents of his lungs. It lay gasping and trembling on the deck, still wrapped in those ropes and chains. “What are you?!” Yelled her uncle. He stepped in between Lisa and the man defensively. At the question, the man flinched in on himself. With effort, he raised his shaking hands. “Nh-please, good sir.” His voice sounded wet and raspy, and he became overtook with another coughing fit. “I-I mean no harm, I swear-” He gagged and curled in on himself, shuddering and dry heaving. “Uncle,” Lisa said carefully. “I don’t think he can hurt us.” Her uncle looked uncomfortable and lowered his mop a bit. “Uhm, you’re right, but... what the hell is it?” he called over to the man “Are you a ghost or somethin’?” The man looked up at them through his tangled hair. He shook his head. “N-no, sir. I swear.” “What the devil are you, then?” The man flinched. He tried to scramble back, but he was so weakened, he didn’t get far. He took a breath to answer, but it caught in his throat and triggered another coughing fit. Though the gasps for breath, he tried to answer. “I-I don’t- I’m not sure, but-” Some more water sprayed from his lips. He looked about to faint. “I-I-I'm no devil, good sir, miss, I-” Any further attempts at speech were too wet to understand. Lisa pushed past her uncle, despite his protests, and knelt down next to the man. She wanted to slap his back to help him with coughing, but when he looked at her, his eyes were filled with abject terror. She leaned back from the intensity. “Nh-please, miss, don’t put me back. I-I couldn’t, please, no more-” Another cough cut off his pleas. “Don’t worry.” Lisa said. “We’re not putting you back. I promise.”

#whump #whumpee #immortal whumpee #drowning #drowning cw #emeto #emeto cw #i mean theres no actual vomit but still #body horror #body horror cw #begging #the ending is very meh but i didn't know how to end it #my writing #my stuff

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harrysbbby · 4 years

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Don’t Forget Where You Belong - JJ Maybank x Reader - Part Three

A/N: new part!!! feedback is always appreciated and please let me know if you’d like to be tagged

Part 1

Part 2

“Okay. So, um... we didn't see anything,” Pope said clearly stressed. “We need to have total and complete amnesia.”

“Actually, Pope's right for once,” JJ piped up. You shot him a confused look. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘and what about it, “See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny,” JJ continued to yabber on.

“Guys, we can't keep that money,” Kie said.

“Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara,” JJ shot back at her.

“We really should give it to Lana Grubbs. Technically it was her husbands.” You spoke, raising your hands defensively as JJ shot a glare at you.

“See,” Kie said gesturing towards you, “Otherwise, it's bad karma.”

“Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too,” Pope spoke directly and with conviction. He kept his head down.

“Pope…” you started but he cut you off.

“We gotta go dark.” He said, lifting his gaze to look around at all of you.

“If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree,” JJ settled. You went to open your mouth to say something, but John B’s voice cut you off.

“I don’t agree,” he said to JJ. He moved to the centre of the porch and began explaining as if he was giving a Ted Talk,

“Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White? Just sayin'.”

“It is a little odd,” you said in agreeance, leaning back on your chair and nodding up at John B. He nodded back as if to say, ‘thank you’ and then turned to the rest of the group who still didn’t look quite as convinced.

“I don’t know…” Pope trailed off. Looking around at you all. He stood and grabbed a fishing rod from the side of the doorway and made his way out to the pontoon. JJ grabbed the other and followed. The five of you made your way out to the water, perching yourselves along the wooden structure. The boys launched their baits into the water as John B started up again.

“All right, so think about it, Pope: How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?” he asked. Pope didn’t even look up from his line as he deadpanned,

“Prostitution”

John B shook his head in disbelief, “Square groupers, bro. Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane. What does that mean?” He looked around at the rest of you. You and Kie just shrugged as John B sighed, “JJ?”

“They were straight smugglin'.” He answered

“Smuggling, really?” you asked.

“Yup,” John B asserted, “And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband.”

“Hell, yeah,” JJ hooted. His line gave a sharp tug and he struggled to keep control as he reeled in it. “Fish on!”

The group decided that it would be a good idea to throw a kegger in order to “lay low”. Somehow this always seemed to happen, but regardless you helped Kie carry the red solo cups onto the beach and placed them next to the keg. You felt an arm rest again your shoulder and when you turned your head your eyes met JJ’s

“Hey hey,” you said to him, moving your arm to wrap it around his waist, “who will be your claim tonight? Pogue or touron?”

JJ was notorious for accumulating at least one hook-up from each of the Boneyard parties. You were able to hold your own every now and then managing to find a cute boy to occupy you for the night, but it wasn’t quite your thing as it was JJ’s.

“I don’t know, think I’m getting kinda over it,” he said shrugging avoiding your gaze. You head did a double take as you whacked his chest.

“JJ Maybank, over hook-ups at keggers? I think the world is ending!” You spoke melodramatically, placing the back of your hand against your forehead and pretending to faint onto him. He let out a small laugh as he grabbed your body that had fallen across his. You stood up again smiling back at him.

“Yeah, think I just want something… I don’t know, different?” in said in a questioning tone. You furrowed your brows at him. You could see the look on his face was stone-cold serious and it confused you. In all the years you had known JJ he had never spoken about relationships like this. You ruffled his hair as you joked with him to lighten the mood again,

“My little boy’s growing up!” you giggled as he picked you up off your feet and tossed you over his shoulder, a joking ‘piss off’ escaping his lips.

He placed you on your feet again before running off to give John B and Pope the drinks he’d originally come to the keg for. As watched him swagger away juggling the three drinks, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the thought of JJ wanting that relationship with you. Although you met John B first, he was more like a brother, you had always seen JJ differently. Like when he’d run a hand through his hair to put his cap on backwards your breath would catch in your throat. Or when you could feel your skin spark when he would grab your waist as he picked you up to toss you in the water. Or when you could feel your stomach drop and heart sink every time, he would get close to another girl.

You had always had a thing for JJ, but you knew the rule: no Pogue-on-Pogue macking. But it was killing you. You huffed as you took post next to Kie on the log, taking a huge gulp of your beer.

“You good?” she asked at the sight of your clearly distressed demeanour. “Let me guess, JJ?”

“Shh,” you shushed her placing your hand vigorously over her mouth. “Be quiet, I told you that in confidence.”

You and Kie, being the only two girls, would go to each other for anything that even entered the realm of emotional. The other boys just didn’t understand the need to articulate one’s feelings. You had told Kie about your crush on JJ a few months prior, and she had listened like a best friend should. But she agreed with you when you expressed your concerns about ruining your friendship. As much as you liked him, your friendship with him and the other Pogues was something you had to consider if you decided to risk it on a potential relationship.

“But yes, it is JJ. He said something super weird about not wanting to hook-up with anyone cause he wants something “different”.” You said, emphasising the different and looking at her with a bewildered expression. She hummed as she sipped her drink, clearly mulling over the information.

“That’s good though, right?” she asked, “he might like you too then?”

You shook your head at her,

“No, he said “different”, Kie. I’m normal, someone he sees every day. We’re routine.”

“I guess,” she shrugged. As you remembered what had been playing on the back of your mind, you perked up.

“Although,” you dragged out looking at her with pure excitement. She raised her eyebrows at your tone, “what we really need to talk about is you and John B,” you said nudging her with your elbow.

She looked down shyly, “what’s there to know?” she said playing dumb.

“Oh, come on Kie! You kissed him!”

“I did not,” she said sternly, “I only kissed him on the cheek,” she said flipping her over her shoulder.

You kept your eyes trained her as you narrowed them. She looked at you expectantly before she rolled her eyes.

“No! Y/N, god no! I don’t like him, okay? Not like that.” She said giving you a shove which made your coy smile slip slowly from your face. “I’m just worried about him.”

She looked over to where John B was chatting to a girl with long blonde hair. You nodded, accepting her answer as you felt a body sit beside you. You turned to see the usual mop of blonde hair that was usually in your face. Kie smiled as she slid her sunglasses off her face and onto your nose. You laughed as she did, saying she was going to go chat to John B.

You slyly turned around to JJ, the red, love heart sunnies on your eyes. As you did you slid them down your nose and popped your elbow on your hip, giving him a pout.

“What do you think?” you asked him cheekily.

“I mean you’ve looked worse,” he joked.

“Oh, shut up JJ!”

***

You heard the sound of fist hitting skin, followed the commotion of yelling. You looked up from your conversation with Pope to see Topper tackling JJ. You and Pope ran to the front of group that was forming. By the time you were there JJ was out of the equation and John B was shoving Topper.

“We’re supposed to be incognito remember?” Pope yelled. Sarah was trying to break up the fight, but Topper landed a punch on John B face. JJ went to go forward, but you put your hands against his chest.

“Nuh, uh.” You said holding him back. You looked down at your face with an aggressive expression but relaxed once he met your eyes. He lightly shoved your hands off his chest, huffing as the two of you turned to watch the scene unfold.

“Hey, John B, don't make me drown you like your old man, all right?” you heard Topper growl. JJ held your shoulders as he saw your body go to move forwards, as rage heated your insides.

“Fight, fight, fight!” the crowd kept chanting as John stayed crouched in the water. John B grunted as he tackled Topper into the water.

“Stop you guys!” you heard Kie yell as the boys continued to wrestle. John B nabbed a punch straight into Topper’s face.

“That's what I'm talking' about” JJ jeered.

“Come on!” “You wanna go?” “Come onnnn!”

The boys were yelling viscously at one another as they sized each other up. Topper landed a sharp blow to John B’s nose making him stumble back into the water.

“Stop!” the scream ripped from your throat. It hurt you to see someone doing this to John B.

“Come on, Topper! Let’s go!” John B yelled at him, fire in his eyes as he pounded his chest.

Topper flipped John B into the water and pinned his face down. John B’s arms flailed as he struggled.

“He’s drowning him!” Pope said, distressed.

“I know,” Kie replied with an equally amount of anxiety laced in her voice.

“We need to do something!” you looked around helplessly.

You saw JJ move from beside you and lift his hand up to Topper’s hand brandishing something black and sleek and metal. You heard it click. Oh no.

“Yeah, you know what that is,” JJ spoke menacingly, pushing the barrel further to Topper’s head, “Your move, broski.”

“Chill dude!” Pope called.

“JJ,” you said warningly, stepping towards him both arms outstretched.

“Put the gun down,” Sarah said calmly. JJ didn’t even move to face her as he fired back,

“Did you say somethin', princess?”

“We're good. We're good.” Topper said, his arms raised in surrender. “All right? Come on, man!”

“Y/N can you check your psycho friend, please?” Sarah yelled gesturing to JJ. You moved towards him as he pushed Topper to the ground. You placed your arms on his shoulders “JJ, please” but he pushed you aside as he charged forward.

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” his voice billowed across the boneyard, “Get the hell off our side of the island!”

He fired the gun into the air twice.

“Are you crazy?” “You idiot!” “It’s not worth it!”

Pope and Kiara were screaming at JJ. “I was saving his life okay?”

Topper and Sarah had bolted once the gun had fired. You turned to see John B struggle to rise up from the water, only to slump and fall back in, water gushing over him again.

“Guy!” you called to them, but they were still yelling – “You're gonna jeopardize everything” – and you knew you couldn’t move John B alone. You grasped his head to keep his head above water so he could breath as you shouted again, “HEY!” there was gravel in your voice as you used all your might to get their attention. The three of them instantly pivoted towards you, taken aback from your uncharacteristic show of aggression towards your friends, “help me.”

You all managed to get John B back to the Chateau. Between the four of you, you managed to carry him inside and lay him on his bed. You had been silent the whole time, all of you, not daring to be the first to speak.

Pope, the often peace maker piped up first, “I think I’m gonna head home.”

Usually after a kegger you would all pass out, still mildly drunk on any surface at John B’s, but after tonight’s events, none of you wanted to stick around much.

“Me too. I’ll drop you,” Kie said. She gave you a small smile and wave as she and Pope exited the room. You were standing in the doorway of John B’s bedroom, observing at his passed-out body. He was breathing fine, just exhausted. So, you came to the conclusion that he would be fine, just needed a decent sleep. You could see the bruise forming on his face, so you made a mental note to check on it and make sure he iced it when you inevitably saw him the next morning.

JJ was sitting on the end of the pull-out couch. He watched the back of your body as you leant against the door frame. He did not dare to say a word to you before you spoke to him. By the glare you had given him as you gathered everyone’s things as he and Pope lugged John B’s body home, he knew you were furious.

He looked like a wounded puppy when turned around to face him.

“Want a ride?” you asked. All he could do to answer was nod.

You drove in silence all the way to JJ’s house. Usually you would just have him stay at your house. Your stepdad was usually oblivious to your actions and your mum didn’t really care what you did as long as you were safe, so JJ was always welcomed. But not by you tonight, not after what he did. No matter how much you wanted him to stay and not have to be in a house with his dad. You needed time to cool off.

You switched the engine of your car off as you pulled into the grassed drive of his house. You sighed as you ran a hand through your hair.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said keeping your eyes trained forward.

“Y/N…” JJ started but you cut him off.

“No,” you said holding your hand up in front of him. His brows were furrowed together, and his eyes were glassy, and it made you feel terrible. But he needed to hear what you had to say, “what you did tonight was so fucking stupid, JJ. I hate Topper as much as you do but you could have killed him.”

JJ went to open his mouth, but you raised your hand before he could speak.

“I know he was drowning John B, but you didn’t have to pull a gun on him. Word of this is gonna spread, and there’s gonna be consequences to that. I don’t want to see you get hurt,” you looked him directly in the eyes. You could see an emotion flash over them, was it guilt? It was something you definitely hadn’t seen before. You felt some tears well up in your eyes. “You’re just so reckless sometimes JJ. You’re gonna get yourself killed! So please, just think a little more next time okay?” you begged him as a single tear slipped from your eye. You hastily wiped it as he nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms as far around his torso as you could from across the center console.

“S’okay, I just worry about you.”

“I know,” he said pulling back. He kept one hand outstretched on your arm, rubbing small circles with his fingers. “Please don’t cry.”

You laughed as you sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand.

“You know I get emotional, especially when I’m drunk,” you laughed. He joined with you, but it wasn’t quite genuine as it usually was. He sheepishly looked forward, avoiding your gaze, “but thanks for the most awkward hug of my life.”

This grabbled a candid cackle from the back of throat as you smiled.

“Yeah remind me to not try and have a moment over the gear stick of a car again,” he said locking his eyes with yours.

“Ahaha, yeah…” you said, holding his stare.

“Yeah,” he responded still looking deeply into your eyes.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that. Time moved differently with JJ. Eventually, he cleared his throat and opened his door, triggering the inside light. You cringe at the brightness after having stared at JJ eyes in the dim for so long.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked standing in the door, crouching down to make eye contact.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you affirmed. JJ shut the door with a solid thunk and wandered inside his shack.

You took a deep breath as you pressed the start engine button. You rested your head against the steering wheel as you groaned: what was this boy doing to you?

Tag list:

@downbytheouterbanks @thesailbells @sexualparkour @bestfriendmagic @mileven-reddie @nikki082489 @treestarrrrrrrr @mynamessusan @kristinaxilliano @love-bean @lauraxwndrlnd

#jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj outer banks #rudy pankow #John B #john b x reader #john b x sarah #outer banks #outerbanks

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nanoland · 3 years

Text

new chapter (lucifer fic)

(earlier parts are here; whole thing is here)

Ponder on the Narrow House, part 3

Mazikeen + Eve + Michael, gen fic (for now), warning for gun violence

Along the California coastline, the cruise ship Illustrious Voyager bore four thousand three hundred and ten passengers, one thousand two hundred and ninety-six crewmembers, and two guide dogs.

Five thousand six hundred and eight souls, in total.

At around 4pm, without anyone noticing, that number became five thousand six hundred and nine.

Hands clasped behind her back, Eve strolled down the promenade, admiring the vessel’s size and beauty. This fresh new millennium’s wealth astonished her. Sickened, sometimes. Entranced, sometimes. But always astonished.

Back in the garden, they’d slept on and under rocks. When it rained, they got wet. When large animals came by, they hid. No weapons. No shelter. No blankets. The only resource they’d had in abundance was food. Good grief – so much food. God had been so proud of all the different fruits and nuts and mushrooms he’d made available to them, and Adam had been so grateful. Eve supposed she had been, too.

It hadn’t stopped her from one day approaching her husband and the plump rabbits resting in his lap – two of several dozen pets – and asking if he didn’t think the cold nights would be much more endurable if they each had a warm pair of fur slippers.

Then she’d met Lucifer. Fallen in love. Bitten the apple. Learned how powerful he and his Father truly were. That was when the real questions, the sticky, prickly questions, had come bubbling up.

If Lucifer has such a vast family, with so many siblings, why can’t I have even one? she’d asked the sky. Why is Adam all I get?

And later: If You can simply bring people into existence, why must I scream and bleed and shit myself in order to have children? Am I doing it wrong? Is there another way? If there isn’t, why not?

And later: Why is nothing fair?

And, most recently, after meeting Mazikeen: Why isn’t everything at least equally unfair? Why do humans get a world of options while Maze and her family are expected to serve angels from birth to death? Why isn’t Maze allowed into Heaven, even after an eternity of loyalty and hard work?

“Sorry,” she said, flashing white teeth at a passing crewmember. “I’m trying to find a friend of mine. Can you tell me how to get to Room 835?”

Half an hour later, there was a splash and the ship’s population dropped to five thousand six hundred and seven.

Before binding his arms and legs, Eve had secured Andrew Bismarck’s lifejacket and gagged him. Furious and helpless, he bobbed alongside her as the ship moved on and Mazikeen rowed up in her inflatable raft, wearing a sunset-orange swimsuit.

“Should I be worried about those, babe?” she asked as she gripped Bismarck’s lifejacket and hauled him out of the water.

Eve smiled at the dolphin pod swimming in playful loops around her, and patted the nearest one’s nose. “No. They’re my friends.”

The inflatable wasn’t big enough for three people, so Eve held on to a friend’s dorsal fin and let him drag her back to The Choronzon.

Michael stood on the deck, looking bored. As they climbed aboard, their prisoner slung over Mazikeen’s shoulder, he drawled, “Seriously? This sad specimen’s worth two million dollars?”

“Actually, his net worth is eight hundred million,” said Mazikeen, dumping him down. “Two million is just what his ex-wife is willing and able to pay.”

Wringing out her hair, Eve added, “She took half his money in the divorce but she gave almost all of it to a chimpanzee shelter. I really like her!”

His lip curled. “How delightfully sordid. Isn’t this all a little beneath you, Ms Mazikeen? I mean, you’re a big deal in Hell. High Commander of Lucifer’s legions, head advisor to the king himself. Aren’t you worried taking jobs like this diminishes you?”

Busy handcuffing Bismarck to the railing, Mazikeen said, “Eve, honey? Do me a favour?”

“Boop!” Eve chirped, having already snuck up behind Michael, and pushed him overboard.

“I know it’s your whole gimmick,” Mazikeen called down as he splashed and spluttered, his face red with princely indignation. “And I know you don’t have a lot else going for you. But the next time you try that on me, I will stop being nice. Kapish?”

“Kapish,” he muttered.

The Choronzon had barely travelled a mile before Eve spotted Bismarck’s henchmen coming after them.

“Someone gimme details!” shouted Mazikeen, busy putting a bulletproof vest on over her bikini and opening up the box she’d told Dan contained a fishing rod, not a halberd.

Eve peered through her binoculars. “Two speedboats. Twelve guys on jet skis. Guns everywhere.”

“Heh. Awesome. Mickey – move that tight ass to the front and make like a nice juicy target.”

“Wait, what about-…” Michael began, trailing off as Mazikeen dove gracefully into the sea.

Bouncing from foot to foot, Eve shot him a grin. “Don’t look so glum, sourpuss. This is the fun part.”

She’d never spoken to Michael in Heaven, despite the millennia they’d both resided only two miles apart, her in a lakeside cottage on the outskirts of the Silver City, him in the crystal palace in its centre.

Granted, she’d not exactly had a warm and fuzzy relationship with any of Lucifer’s siblings. They all knew what had happened in the garden. Some had been nice – Amenadiel had visited often, even though he’d never had much to say and they’d spent their time together skipping stones across the lake’s surface. But the others had kept her at a distance. She was a bad influence.

Michael, however, was the only angel she’d not ever said one word to.

She’d seen him, now and then, in the early days, when she was the only human in Heaven and, as such, grudgingly invited to divine family get-togethers. On those occasions, she’d spent too much time feeling awkward and out-of-place to pay attention to the sullen figure lurking in whatever shadows were available. The one time she’d glanced his way, it had been to marvel at the stories of people getting the twins mixed up; beyond the raw basics of bone structure, Michael couldn’t have looked less like her old lover.

Bullets sprayed across the hull. Humming, Eve stepped daintily into Michael’s shadow, seconds before they started bouncing off his shoulders and chest.

“It is beneath her,” he muttered.

She made an ambiguous noise. “How d’you figure?”

There came a shout and a splash from the nearest jet ski. The bullets stopped.

“C’mon. She’s Mazikeen. Everyone in the Silver City knows about Mazikeen. Ordinarily, we couldn’t give two dry shits about Lucifer’s minions, but her? She’s a minor celebrity. The power behind Hell’s throne. Christ, it’s no secret my beloved twin couldn’t govern his way out of a paper bag.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling fondly. “He’s kind of bad at everything. Except music. He’s a great musician.”

More shouting. More shooting. More bullets bouncing off Michael’s torso. Mazikeen rode by, one hand gripping her newly-acquired jet ski’s throttle lever, the other clutching her bloodstained halberd. Watching her circle the enemy, Eve was reminded of a sheep dog.

Michael went on: “And then there’s the fact that for a while, everyone thought Lucifer was going to marry her. It was all anyone could talk about. Jophiel was taking bets on when the proposal would happen. She’d have been High Commander and the Queen of Hell. Instead? All of a sudden, Lucifer takes an indefinite vacay to the mortal realm, drags her with him, and next thing anyone knows, she’s working behind a bar.”

The remaining jet skis and their terrified, wounded riders had been neatly rounded up, which meant it was time for Eve to open her purse.

“Um – how long have those been in there?” asked Michael, watching her take out three grenades.

“You want one?” she offered. “Don’t forget to take the pin out before you throw it. I did that my first time.”

One thing to be said for millions of dull, dull years spent sitting next to God’s Greatest Warrior, skipping stones across a lake; your aim got good.

The first blast was a warning, not close enough to actually kill any of Bismarck’s men, though the resultant waves did knock several into the water. They tried to retreat, turning their vehicles around, only to remember Mazikeen, corralling them single-handed and now armed with machine guns she’d confiscated from those already bested.

When they saw the second and third grenade incoming, they gave up and abandoned the jet skis, jumping into the sea and swimming for their lives.

“Fuck!” Michael yelped, blocking his ears at the concomitant explosions.

Gazing past the debris and smoke, Eve saw Mazikeen head for the nearest of the two speedboats. Its occupants, preoccupied with aiming a rocket launcher at The Choronzon, saw her coming far too late.

“I get your point,” said Eve, as her girlfriend and her halberd made short work of the crew. “But that’s a really… how can I put this? It’s a really angelic way of looking at things. Maze doesn’t consider anything ‘beneath her’.”

“Wow. Sick burn. You’re basically admitting she has no pride.”

“Oh, she’s got pride. Tons of pride. Her pride’s just dependant on how well she does a job, not on the type of job she has. She wasn’t happy working at Lux, but that wasn’t because she thought bartending was ‘beneath her’; it was because she prefers doing things she’s good at. Customer service isn’t really one of her strengths.”

The second speedboat was abandoned by its crew mere seconds before Mazikeen rammed the first speedboat into it, cackling victoriously.

“Actually,” Eve said, moving from Michael’s shadow to where Mazikeen had earlier set a crate of peach soda – her favourite – out on the deck, “now that you mention it, I guess I’m the one with no pride. Haven’t really ever had anything to be proud of. Your Dad never gave me the chance. I was never meant to do things. I was just meant to be.”

Michael snorted. “Lucky you. Trust me; he may have softened in his later years, but back in the day he never, ever stopped riding our asses. You think Lucy really rebelled because he had better plans for how the universe should be run? Because he was an innovator? Nope. Lazy dick just hated being told to do his chores.”

By the time Mazikeen swam back to them, saltwater had washed off the blood and her ponytail had come loose.

“Oh, hey,” said Eve, gripping her hand and pulling her up. “A mermaid.”

After pressing a rough kiss to her cheek and taking a swig of peach soda, Mazikeen asked, “You okay? He did his job?”

Eve patted the angel’s shoulder – the one that wouldn’t hurt. “He was terrific! Awesome addition to the team.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Michael mumbled.

Ignoring him, Mazikeen snatched up a towel to dry her hair. “Glad to hear it. Alright! Let’s get Bismarck back to shore, get paid, and find a place to have dinner so we can toast Team Hellrazor’s first successful mission.”

“R-A-Z-O-R,” Eve informed Michael. “To make it cooler.”

#lucifer #mazikeen #eve #michael demiurgos #demons #lucifer morningstar #amenadiel #michael #fanfic #my fic

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