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#Deception Cove
professional-yearner · 11 months
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Below the surface
Yandere! Merman x Fem! Reader
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AN: Hey all! Sorry for doing so many different things at once, but I'm just so excited for Mermay and I really missed writing yandere content! I really hope you like Cove, because this is just a sneak peak at a larger story I'm going to try and commit to! (Past may dw)
TW: mentions of purposeful drowning, slight degradation, deception, yandere behavior
You admired the pin, turning it so the shell's iridescent patterns caught the sun and made it look as though it was a light patch of silk.
"Oh, Cove, it's beautiful, thank you so much!"
The merman smiled up at you, toned arms resting on the old dock.
"No problem, it couldn'tve gone to anyone else."
You looked at it for a few more minutes in quiet awe before you noticed a strange sound seeming to come from your friend.
"Are you purring?" You laughed lightly, making the sound grow louder in the back of his throat.
"It looks good on you, my flower." He tilted his head, reaching up to cup your face.
"Oh! Thank you." You flushed at his focussed attention as his larger, scarred hand dipped lower, leaving a trail of dampness until it stopped over your heart.
His purr intensified greatly at the contact; God you drove him wild.
So sweet, so patient and kind, so beautiful and so, so clueless. The maker had truly led you right into his arms, right to where you belonged.
It was all he could do to not yank you in by your little wrist and hold you under until you stopped struggling with your weak human lungs, really making you his for eternity. But no, that would come later. For now he would be content with these visits, as sparse as they were. Fine with waiting, watching patiently for the right moment.
"Cove?"
He looked back up at you, a handsome grin set back upon his features, "Yes?"
He was snapped from his thoughts by your pretty voice wringing out softly over the lap of the waves.
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ari-the-arotistic · 4 months
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You discussed this already in your character analysis of James Norrington, but I was wondering what specific sort of ego death / metaphorical death James would have to experience if he did survive? Any ideas on what specifically would have to happen to him to achieve the proper character arc completion?
Ooooh that's a good question! Thank you for taking an interest in my original post :>
Now, what specific ego death would James have to go through to complete his character arc... well, let's get into it! To begin with, the most important thing that needs to happen is for James to realize that his Commodore/Admiral persona is not as just or righteous as he thought it was, and that most of the decisions he had made trying to hold onto that persona either directly or indirectly got people hurt, or even killed. I believe that James would begin to question his decisions up to this point as Beckett starts mass murdering people in the name of ending piracy, but he would try to ignore it and convince himself everything was fine, up until his reunion with Elizabeth where she informs him of her father's death and Beckett's deception on the matter, and he fully, completely realizes that he has let himself become corrupt and complacent to corruption, and that he needs to change.
After this, there are a few ways his "death" scene could go. Maybe he fakes his death so he can escape with Elizabeth without raising suspicion. Maybe he does get injured as he escapes with Elizabeth, and the crew of the Dutchman don't think he'll survive. Either way, the crew of the Dutchman need to think that the Admiral is dead - not just that he deserted, because he had done that before as a Commodore and still came back, but properly dead. Because as far as James is concerned, the Admiral is dead. Now that he has found a way off the Dutchman, James needs to come to terms with the death of his own internal identity. He is no longer Admiral James Norrington, Scurge of Piracy, and upholder of righteousness. He's just James. And he needs to fix the mistakes he has made. So he accompanies Elizabeth to Shipwreck Cove, and gives the pirates all the information he can about Beckett's approaching fleet. The number of ships, how well supplied they are, any weaknesses that could be exploited - anything and everything of relevance that could help the pirates take Beckett down. And then we get to the final battle - the Dutchman versus the Pearl.
Now, there are only two ways I can see this going that would be a satisfactory end to this part of James's character arc. Either he would die on the Dutchman, sacrificing himself for Elizabeth, Jack, or Will, or he survives the final battle, and pledges himself to Elizabeth and her unborn son, Jack and the Pearl, or Will and the Dutchman. Choosing to pledge himself to Elizabeth would be the easiest option, as there is no real moral dilemma or personal conflict there, and he'd be doing a good thing by looking after her and her son. Choosing to pledge himself to Will and the Dutchman would be a bit more difficult because of his personal conflict with both the ship and its new captain, but it would be rather poetic for his arc to end with him helping ferry the souls of the dead when so many had died because of his actions. Choosing to pledge himself to Jack and the Pearl would be the most difficult, both because of his personal conflict with Jack, and the moral dilemma of becoming a pirate after having spent so long in the Navy, even if the Navy turned out to not be as righteous as he had originally thought. It would definitely take him some time to come to terms with the decision, and he would need to find a balance between being a pirate, and being a good man(thankfully Jack already haa some experience in that department). Ultimately though, there is no correct answer for who James would end up choosing, and it's really up to personal interpretation. As a Sparrington shipper, it's clear who I think James would end up choosing, but if you think he'd be more likely to choose Will or Elizabeth, your opinion is equally as valid as mine!
And so, that's how I think James's ego death would go, and how he would reshape himself afterward. Thank you so much for the lovely ask, and thank you all for reading! I hope you all have a wonderful day <3
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geeks-universe · 1 year
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The Ice Queen Pt. 2
Daemon Targaryen x Reader
A/N: It’s a little spicy. You have been warned.
Daemon hadn’t sought you out like you thought he would.
After the very pleasurable moment you shared, you figured he would turn up at your chambers. Instead, he seemed to be avoiding you.
At first, you’d suspected he had changed his mind. However, the looks he gave you in passing suggested it wasn’t his idea.
Corrus or Viserys were the two most likely suspects on his sudden disappearance, but you couldn’t be sure. Nevertheless, you weren’t one to fall in line with what was expected of you, so you had left a note for Daemon.
If he wanted to join you, he would. Otherwise, you would not allow yourself to think on him a second longer, even if the thought itself seemed impossible.
You were up to your chest in the water, the waves gentle and calm for the moment. It was a hot summer day, and even though the sun was down, there was still enough warmth that the water was refreshing- not that the cold ever really bothered you anyways.
You were in a natural cove, shielded by a wall of earth on all sides except the east, a perfect view of Blackwater Bay. Water had always been a comfort to you, and since you’d left home, it had been even moreso.
“Now, this is a pleasant surprise.”
You smiled, leaning your head back to expose the bare skin of your neck, and just the smallest peek of your cleavage. 
“Prince Daemon,” you greeted, not bothering to look towards him. “I’m glad you’ve decided to join me.”
Your eyes slipped shut as you heard the rustling of clothing and the clink of his sword hit the rocky shore. Anticipation was heavy on your tongue, your body warming with the thought of what was to come.
You breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself. You knew what would happen if you lost control.
“I would have turned up sooner had my brother not kept his worthless spies watching my every move.”
There was a bitterness in his voice that caused you to open your eyes. Daemon was in the water, only a few steps from you. The water hadn’t yet covered the expanse of his chest, and you found yourself transfixed on the display.
“And why has he decided to do that?” You asked.
Despite knowing that this meetup was likely only for one thing, you couldn’t help but want to talk to him. The two of you had a connection beyond the physical touch, and the emotional bond had begun kindling once more.
“To keep me from taking your virtue.”
You raised a brow challengingly, a wicked smile playing on your lips. Instead of allowing him to close the distance between you, you did so yourself, baring your chest to him.
He drank in the sight, his eyes darkening with lust.
“And why does he think you’re the one to take it?”
Words had escaped him as he traced the curves of your body, his fingers spasming with the desire to touch you, yet he held back momentarily.
“I have found my thoughts overtaken with you,” he admitted, voice gravelly. “And he has taken notice.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” Your gaze was innocent, but your expression was anything but as you grasped one of his hands in both of yours, guiding it to your chest.
Sparks shot down your spine at the feel of his fingers on your bare skin. That action was enough to force him to act. He pulled your body swiftly and tightly against his, one hand on your cheek, while the other continued its exploration downwards.
This connection- it was like a magnet, drawing the both of you ever closer to one another. It was evident he felt it too, as he stared deep into your gaze, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone.
“I would burn this world to the ground for you.”
There was no deception in his voice, just pure, raw emotion. The affection for him bubbled in your chest, and you wasted no time in pulling his head down to meet you, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair.
His lips were brutal against yours, hot and insistent. He pressed his tongue into your mouth, and you moaned, letting him have control. His hand had stopped its exploration, instead grabbing your ass and urging your legs to wrap around his waist.
You did so, pleasure shooting down your body at the evidence of his arousal. Between the feral nature of his groping, and the sinful kiss he had yet to release you from, you found your mind spinning with lust.
It was too much.
Every bit of control you’d spent years building up snapped in a matter of seconds, manifesting itself in a heavy snow above your naked bodies.
It took Daemon a moment to notice, lost in the heat of your intwined bodies and the whisper of what was to come next, but when he did, he stared up in wonder.
“What is...?”
You recoiled, worrying your swollen lips with your teeth. Daemon hadn’t released you from his hold yet, and you hadn’t unraveled your legs from his body.
“You’re doing this.”
It wasn’t accusatory. In fact, it sounded mildly impressed.
“I can explain,” you offered gently, reaching up to touch one of the snowflakes.
There, in that cove, your body wrapped around Daemon’s, you told him the truth of everything.
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tozettastone · 5 months
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for the fic title meme: the farthest shore (naruto)
Karin had never been to Water country before, but the life of an unaffiliated ninja was a tough one. She only got contracts if she undercut the major villages' pricing and went where the work was. She was the best tracker in the world—but, you see, people rarely wanted to pay for the best tracker in the world, because nine times out of ten, the world's most average tracker would still do the same job.
She was pragmatic about her mark as she followed him from Wind country all the way to Water, following steadily and relentlessly as the landscape changed. The inland most parts of Water country were all fens and mosquitoes, but the coast was temperate and the sea air was ironically dry. The lush greenery thinned out and grew tall. His move towards Wave felt deliberate, like he thought the ocean might stop her, but it was pretty much all the same to Karin. She wasn't a bloodhound. Her tracking skills could not be stymied by these little vagaries of the local landscape.
She remained just this pragmatic right up until the moment she tried to water-walk upon the ocean. At an abandoned, craggy cove, the soles of Karin's feet at last touched the ocean water—the flow of that deceptive and perilous strait between the blasted shore of Whirlpool and mainland Water country—and she felt the call. It was not an audible cry or a wind felt on the skin, but a smiling little hook that sank deep into her chakra and did not let go.
Karin turned her face towards the ruins of Whirlpool, unthinking. She could have pointed to it like a weathervane with or without the call, truly; a lot of chakra-heavy seals had been drawn there, year after year, in blood. Even the salt of the ocean couldn't wear it away in just one generation.
The hooks tugged on her, worrying at her chakra like a fussy child at her hem. She could almost hear it when she concentrated: Come home, and I miss you, and I'm alone, too.
Karin shuddered from head to toe.
She climbed back up the rocky coast and went to see about hiring a boat instead. That hungry deathtrap out there was no business of hers.
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missmungoe · 2 years
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ok first of all, i love your writing. the way you write shanks and makino together and sepertaley is amazing and i have read all of your fics like three times now and i love them. I especially love the friendship between makino and ben beckman. I was wondering if you're gonna do any more one shots with makino and ben's friendship??
(This has been in my inbox forever, but I’ve been working on a follow-up chapter to Tethered to Kinder Shores and while writing this scene, I remembered it, so here’s a little something with Makino and Ben!)
She occupied a special place in their crew.
For their youngest members, she was a presence some of them had been without growing up, meeting them with a kindness and empathy that allowed them to be boys, even if the sea had long since taken that from them. For their older veterans, she was a reminder of the good still in the world, but more importantly, the good still in themselves, which the sea had come for after it had taken the last of their boyhood.
For their captain, she was everything. And for all of them, she was an anchor, to people they’d once been and that they sometimes needed reminding they still were, and to the future they hoped was still there for them, in the new era, however long and hard the voyage would be getting there. And she loved them all, veterans and newbies alike, and didn’t have favourites, at least aside from the obvious, but other than their captain, there was one who stood out, and no matter how many things had changed over the past ten years, his hair being only the most visually apparent, Ben was glad their friendship had remained the same.
Of course, some things were different. Back then, she hadn’t known half of it; not the truth of who they were, or the place they occupied in the world balance, but her role was different now, and not just in terms of who she was to their captain.
“And these are the ones he broke out of Impel Down?”
Ben nodded, observing as she perused the list, along with the accompanying wanted posters. “Bounties are recently updated.”
Down the street from the porch where they were sitting, their ship lay docked in the harbour, a sleeping dragon in a cove of gold as the evening sun sank like an anchor through the deepening sky, the sails of the windmills casting long shadows across the rolling fields further inland.
She had her ledger in her lap, perched atop the pregnant curve of her belly, a pen tucked between her fingers as she made notes, her eyes moving between Ben’s own ledgers where they lay around her, and the wanted posters bearing the faces of Blackbeard’s commanders.
The late sunlight brought out the freckles on the tops of her shoulders, bared by the delicately flaring sleeves of her ivory sundress. It hugged her belly, and her feet were bare, her apron discarded in a tender heap, all of her a study in gentleness, and if he hadn’t known better, he might have thought she was poring over her usual work, only these weren’t her lists of inventory or shipments from her distilleries, but she’d approached them with the same meticulous care, categorising all the information he’d shared with her, names and bounties and affiliations. She had her own system, different from his, but Ben didn’t question it, observing instead as she catalogued the information, classified things even the navy brass didn’t know, some of it he wagered the World Government would have paid a pretty penny for, and not something he would have given just anyone, but it said something about her importance that he shared it with her.
And it said something about her, and the sharp, meticulous mind behind those deceptively gentle features. But then even if she’d never been off the docks, she was more cunning than people realised, and he would have been a fool if he’d believed all she’d been doing for ten years had been the newspaper crossword puzzles. The stack of clippings and notes she’d shown him hadn’t been a surprise; at least not to Ben.
Tucking the pen into her kerchief, she leafed through the wanted posters, before she paused, the slender hand hovering over the one bearing Blackbeard’s grinning face, before she slid it from between the others.
She considered it, her brow furrowed gently, unmarred but for the silver line bisecting one of her eyebrows, but he saw their captain’s scars in her eyes as they lifted from the wanted poster to his.
“Are you strong enough to defeat him?” Makino asked.
Those eyes took no prisoners. And he’d stared down death more times than he could count without breaking a sweat, and yet somehow, being at the centre of that gentle scrutiny made him feel stripped of all his guards.
He didn’t sugarcoat it, but then he’d never done that with her. “We’ll have to be.”
“And if you aren’t?” she pressed, even as the gentle lilt of her voice didn’t change. Her eyes hadn’t dropped his, and didn’t give him allowance to do the same.
He chose his next words with care, although didn’t mince them, but then she of all people deserved the truth, for all she’d given them.
“If we’re not strong enough to defeat him,” Ben said, “there won’t be a second chance.”
“So it’s defeat him or die trying,” Makino said.
Ben nodded.
The setting sun had come to rest on the horizon’s collar, the warm light filtered through the rigging of their ship. In the shade of the porch, her eyes looked bottomless, but Ben only met them calmly.
Then that soft mouth firmed, and shutting her ledger, “No,” Makino said.
His brows lifted, but then there were few on this sea who could catch him off guard. The only other person who’d ever succeeded was currently inside the bar behind them, tapping drinks for their crew. “No?”
Putting the ledger away, Makino didn’t yield, her chin lifted where she stared him down, tiny and pregnant and having none of it as she repeated, “No.”
When had she become so bold? There was no trace of the girl who’d once quailed at confrontations, and who’d been unwilling to demand even what she was owed. The woman sitting in her place now didn’t even flinch, as Makino told him, “I don’t accept that.”
His breath left him in a gust, his startled smile compelled entirely in spite of himself, lifting his toothpick as Ben said, “I don’t make the rules, Makino.”
“Maybe not,” Makino said. “But that doesn’t stop you from bending them when it pleases you.”
“This is a little different than the betting pools,” Ben reminded her, with a glance at the ledger that lay a little ways off from the rest.
“Fine,” Makino countered, prim. “Then I’ll make an official bet.”
His look softened, but then it was hard to withstand that gentle force. “On?”
The eyes that met his held nothing back, but then when it came to betting on them, she’d always gone all in. “On a safe return,” Makino said.
He heard what she didn’t say, and saw that she knew when her eyes lowered to her belly where his godchild slept, cupped beneath her hand.
Her eyes turned to the harbour, and their ship, and smoothing her fingers over the curve of her belly, Ben saw how they shook, as Makino said, “I’m thinking of staying. The next time you leave.”
He said nothing, allowing the words instead to settle between them, with the weight of a heavy truth that had been carried for a while. And he didn’t have to wonder if she’d told Shanks yet, finding it in her eyes, but even if this was her first time speaking it, he knew his captain, a shrewder man than most even without his wife’s face failing to keep her secrets, and doubted he’d missed it.
“I know you’re always telling me,” Makino continued, as her eyes lifted from her belly to his, “that I’m a pirate, and that I’m one of you. But even if I am, I’m still just a barmaid.”
Ben didn’t disagree, even if he might have told her that she’d never been just that, but knew this wasn’t about technicalities or personal feelings, which was why she was telling him.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Makino said, and before he could object, “If you remove all feelings from the equation, and if I ask you to make the most practical decision…”
She didn’t finish, but then she didn’t need to. Because while they’d all changed, so had the sea, and it wasn’t the same as when their captain had asked her to come with them ten years ago.
And he knew what the practical choice was, even if he wondered if she knew that as far as she was concerned, none of them could have given less of a shit about what was practical.
But she had asked him, and with a sigh, “Staying would be safer,” Ben conceded. Given where they were headed, and their enemies…
And yet, even if it was a fact, for once, he felt recklessly inclined to ignore it.
But they’d always given her the choice, and no matter what she chose, it didn’t change who she was, if she was with them or in Fuschia. And as theirs, she was theirs to protect, in any way they could.
She didn’t smile, her spine straight where she sat on the steps of her bar, and in that moment she had never looked more like what she was, regal in her gentle conviction, dressed in soft linen and the last of the sunlight and with the horizon behind her.
“Then it’s decided,” Makino said, cupping her belly. “When you go back to the New World, we’re staying.”
Ben only nodded, but then an order was an order, although he did wonder at her influence, that for all his loyalty, he wanted to object.
“And you’ll come back to me alive,” Makino said, this time with a look. “All of you. That’s the only alternative I accept.”
His startled grin was as helpless as his hope, for all that he was rarely inclined towards the feeling, as he chuckled, “Aye, ma’am.”
Reaching for her ledger, the front of which bore a cheerful sticker of a sunflower, she opened it, this time on a different page, well-thumbed by the look of it, and the leather-bound spine cracking open naturally, as though it had been opened here many times.
The wanted poster that appeared looked worn but carefully kept, Shanks’ serious features printed above the obscene row of numbers and the bold black letters that declared him what he was. Wanted, dead or alive.
Behind it were more posters, so many Ben wondered how she’d gotten her hands on all of them, and if Garp had had a hand in it.
“Anything new to share?” Makino asked, smiling. “I like to stay up to date.”
“Captain’s found a few more grey hairs,” Ben said. “He’s taking it as well as could be expected.”
“Meaning with unflappable grace?”
Grinning around his toothpick, Ben deadpanned, “A master of aplomb and self-control, that guy.”
Her adoring smile betrayed her teasing, before her eyes softened, and this time she asked him, gentler, “But aside from the usual melodrama, he’s doing well?”
His look told her she knew that better than they did, but he knew she wasn’t asking about his physical health, and so, “Some days are harder than others,” Ben said, and saw her eyes softening. And then, because it was her, “He misses you.”
Her flustered smile looked like it couldn’t be helped, but, “Thank you,” she said, meeting his eyes. “For taking care of him.”
His mouth jutted, as Ben said wryly, “It’s a team effort.”
“Hmm, well he’s a bit of a handful.”
His grin hurt, but then it had been a while since he’d felt freed enough of his usual burdens to indulge.
He watched as she considered the wanted poster, before Makino asked him, “Any weaknesses to report? All I’ve noted here is kimchi fried rice and single malt whiskey. As his first mate, you would know.”
Ben just looked at her, and saw she’d caught on when she huffed softly. “I’m not writing myself down,” Makino said.
“You would if you’d seen him wax about you after a few drinks,” Ben said.
He doubted she could have concealed her gratified grin if she’d tried her hardest, but lowering her eyes to Shanks’ wanted poster, it faltered a bit as Makino told him, “I don’t want to be a weakness.”
A different man might have offered her reassurance, but he wasn’t about to start coddling her now. “You don’t choose what you are to someone,” Ben said. “But weakness doesn’t mean liability. It just means he has something to lose.”
Brown eyes lifted from the wanted poster to his, but then for all her importance, her humility cheerfully defied it.
A small smile pursed her mouth then, and, “What about you?” Makino asked. “What’s your weakness?”
His pointed look answered, but then it was the same answer for all of them who’d ever known her, and he saw her flustered smile breaking her composure, but then they were always trying their hardest to remind her.
Still, because she had asked, “I like intelligent conversation and a dry sense of humour,” Ben said. “A little cleavage doesn’t hurt.”
“So wits and tits?” Makino asked demurely, as a barking laugh ripped from him, as startled as any he’d ever made, and he heard the conversation stilling inside the bar behind them.
Looking at her where she sat, the picture of angelic innocence with that smile on her face, Ben shook his head. “They’d never believe me if I relayed this conversation verbatim,” he told her. Shanks would be the only one. “But you’re not wrong.”
“And you’re still breaking hearts in every port?”
His brows furrowed, but then she was terrible at hiding when she was fishing for something. “What did Yasopp tell you?”
She shrugged daintily. “Nothing. Just something about a recent incident.” A beat passed, and he knew what was coming even before her grin broke and she blurted, “A princess, Ben?”
“I didn’t know she was a princess until after the fact,” Ben said. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“How?” Makino asked. “With my eyes?”
“Yes.”
When she just continued to look at him, he sighed. “I made it very clear to her that it was just going to be a one-time thing.”
“Shanks said the king threatened to have you executed.”
“Believe it or not, it’s not my first time,” Ben said.
Her look told him she did believe it, before she asked, “Was it at least worth it?”
Ben looked at her, and the wide brown eyes that were so easy to enthrall. And he didn’t kiss and tell, no matter how relentlessly his crew tried to get it out of him, but she was different, and so, “She made me laugh,” Ben said, and when her whole face brightened with delight, surprised himself by adding, “And she was very generously blessed.”
“And the conversation?”
“Let’s just say it was a good thing we didn’t need to do a lot of talking.”
“Oof,” she said. “But hey, two out of three?”
“I’m not complaining,” Ben said.
“Even though you’re now banned from ever setting foot in her country?”
“I’ll live.”
“As long as you never go there, at least,” Makino shot back, before her grin eased. “So no thoughts of settling down yet?”
“I thought that was a given,” Ben said, with a look. “Or did you ask me to be godfather and expect me to take off?”
Her grin had no shame, but it was too delighted to be anything but earnest. “I’m sure you’ll still be able to find someone to provide intellectual conversation,” Makino said, before quipping, demure, “and other things.”
Grinning, “The order isn’t important,” Ben deadpanned, although didn’t say that as far as his future was concerned, there were more important things than who warmed his bed at night.
As though in response to the thought, her hand flew to her belly, her features contorting a bit, before she breathed out through her mouth.
“Is it kicking?” Ben asked.
Makino nodded, her hand moving over the taut curve, seeking it. “Want to feel it?”
It was a permission she granted freely, but unlike the rest of their crew who had no qualms about infringing on her person, including cooing at her belly whenever the opportunity presented itself, Ben respected her privacy, although reaching out his hand, Makino didn’t hesitate, as gentle fingers guided it towards where the kicking was strongest, his hand big where it spanned her belly, and weathered in a way he hadn’t really noticed before now, all his years and deeds marked in the scars along the back of it.
Then he felt the movement under his palm, and every single thought in his mind proceeded to leave it.
And he’d been wrong, earlier. There was one more who could catch him off guard.
Her hands moved it lower, and catching his look, her own was wry, as Makino said, “Since you all came back, I no longer have a concept of personal space.”
She didn’t sound particularly upset about this, the smile in her eyes recalling the eager hands always touching her belly, or singing to it, as they’d taken to doing, their captain in particular.
Still, they were both private creatures, and, “Try being stuck on a ship with them,” Ben said, although immediately regretted it when her smile faltered, her earlier decision recalled with brutal swiftness.
But, “One day,” Makino said, with a hope he might have called idealistic, had it been anyone else, as she murmured, smiling, “I did promise him.”
As though on cue, a loud laugh reached them through the bat-wing doors, and Ben saw how it drew her eyes. Under his palm, the baby gave another kick.
“Getting close now,” he said, the jut of his mouth lifting his toothpick, but his usual craving was nowhere to be found. “Is he ready?”
“Are any of you?” Makino countered smoothly.
His grin was his answer, as Ben told her honestly, “Not in the least.”
She hummed. “Then it’s a good thing you have me at the helm.”
Ben silently agreed, although kept himself from saying he’d trust her at the actual helm, if it came down to it.
From atop her belly, his hand looked back. And he knew the things it had done, and would do without hesitation, and anyone else might have paused before trusting him with something as fragile as their unborn child, but there was no hesitation in the eyes that had looked at him and seen, and more than even Ben had told her, for all his painful honesty. But while he carried no shame for the things he’d done, it was still humbling, faced with the life you’d lived and the choices you’d made, in the presence of one that hadn’t yet begun.
Footsteps on the gravel drew his eyes up from her belly to an unfamiliar man, having stopped before the porch, his eyes lifted to Party’s sign, before they lowered to the two of them where they sat on the steps.
Ben saw him glance towards the harbour, his gaze lingering a moment longer on Red Force, before he asked them, “Is this Fuschia village?”
Not an islander, or he wouldn’t have asked, but he must have come from Goa. Dadan usually kept abreast of anyone passing through the forest, but Ben’s Den Den Mushi hadn’t rung, which meant he must have slipped her notice.
“It is,” Makino said, with a benign smile. “Can I help you?”
It was offered with her usual hospitality, and a gentle authority that belonged to more than just the proprietor of the local bar, but then anyone who’d ever set foot in this village knew it wasn’t the mayor who held the highest seat.
The stranger looked her up and down, a glimmer brightening his eyes that had Ben’s brows furrowing. He wore a simple shirt and breeches under a leather coat, and wasn’t armed from what Ben could see, but he knew people, and a weapon was just a weapon. There were other, more telling details for those who knew where to look.
Pirate, he thought, and there was a straightness to his shoulders that said former navy, although whatever rank or title he held, there was only one designation that mattered, marked in his mind like the notes in his ledgers.
Dangerous.
Placing his hand on his flintlock, Ben saw how it drew her gaze, and the stranger’s from where he’d been watching her. But if he was threatened by the display, he didn’t let on.
“You the one who owns this place?” he asked Ben, but before he could answer,
“I am,” Makino said, a firmness in her voice now, dragging the stranger’s eyes back to her, and Ben watched as they lowered to her belly, cupped under her hand.
Rising from his seat, Ben saw her look up, but the stranger didn’t move, only looked at him where he’d put himself in front of her, his flintlock in his hand.
“We’re full,” Ben said.
He got a snort for that, as the stranger looked him up and down. “What are you, her bouncer?”
“Yes,” Ben said, unfazed. “So bounce.”
Shifting his weight, “No,” he said. “I’d like a drink. This is a bar, right? Where’s the smalltown hospitality I keep hearing about?”
“You’re looking at it,” Ben said.
When he didn’t move, “I’ll count to three,” Ben said. “You choose what to do with those seconds. How’s that for hospitality?”
“And if I decide to use them to take you out?” the stranger asked.
“Ben,” Makino said, a gentle warning, although he wondered for whose sake. But from how warily she was watching the stranger, he didn’t need to wonder what she’d deduced, although the fact that she hadn’t offered him a drink said enough.
He considered his options. He didn’t want to bloody the threshold of her bar, but the way the guy was watching her said he wasn’t about to be talked into leaving.
He’d only need a few seconds, and usually, he wouldn’t have hesitated, although knew why he did, aware of the eyes on his back that had only ever looked at him with trust, never with fear.
He thought of the movements under his hand, wrapped around the cold metal of his flintlock.
The doors behind them sang then, and Makino started, her eyes flying up where Shanks had appeared, his fingers reaching to brush her jaw gently. “Did I hear someone asking for a drink?”
His voice was amicable, even if Ben didn’t miss the slight edge in it, and wondered if Makino heard it, as Shanks came to a stop, angled slightly in front of her. Smiling, he told the stranger, “We’re a bit short-staffed today but I’m sure we could find room.”
He wasn’t wearing his cloak or his sword, in his shirtsleeves and with his missing arm apparent, an apron slung low on his hips and a towel draped over his shoulder, but while anyone else could have been mistaken for a barkeep, the way he held himself left little room for misinterpretation, like the telling shiver in the air, but then even in its mildest form, his conqueror’s haki was enough to make the planks beneath them creak forebodingly, the foundation of her bar trembling, sending the glasses and bottles on the shelves within chiming softly.
It was a rare show of aggression for a man who laughed off most threats, but then he’d seen the same thing Ben had, a fact that was only confirmed when the stranger’s eyes widened, his face blanching as he staggered back, his wide eyes fixed on Shanks.
“Y-you’re―!”
The doors swung open again, this time with a little more force, before the rest of their crew were there, filling her porch as Makino’s eyes widened, her head lifting from where she was still sitting on the steps, until they’d surrounded her.
“A customer?” Limejuice asked. From his rolled-up shirtsleeves, he’d been in the middle of doing the dishes.
Grinning, “Our lady doesn’t turn away patrons,” Lucky said, from where he’d come to loom behind her. “Right, Ma-chan?”
“A parting glass before he’s on his way,” Yasopp agreed, his arms crossed where he leaned against one of the supports. “Or what do you say, Boss?”
Shanks said nothing, his scars furrowed with his brow, but whatever he might have told him, the stranger didn’t seem inclined to listen, as he stumbled back, his former confidence shucked as he turned and bolted in the direction he’d come, down the road where it wound between the windmills towards the forest.
Watching him run, “Do you think he’ll be a problem?” Makino asked, with a glance up at Shanks. “He recognised you.”
“One guy flapping his gums?” Hongou asked. “I doubt it.”
“And who’s gonna believe him?” Bonk Punch asked, as Monstar chittered in agreement. “That an Emperor’s docked in a little village in East Blue?”
Their laughter agreed, but Makino wasn’t smiling. She was looking in the direction of the windmills, her hand cupped over her belly.
Touching the bare curve of her shoulder, Shanks smiled when she started. “Gab wants a drink but refuses to let me mix it. Claims I don’t have your touch. I know you’re supposed to be taking it easy…”
“The reason you don’t have my touch is because you measure the components with blind luck and your eyes closed,” Makino pointed out primly, placing her hand in his where Shanks held it out, before allowing him to help her to her feet, his head bent to kiss the parting of her hair as his knuckles grazed the curve of her belly tenderly.
“No heavy lifting,” he warned. “And glasses from the bottom shelf only. Lucky?”
“On it, Boss!”
“I’m not a deck hand,” Makino said, her neck craned to look up at him, tiny but undaunted by the height he had on her. “You can’t captain me around my own bar.”
His innocent look was met with faltering resistance, and a grin she didn’t succeed in stifling, before she huffed her surrender, and his laughter followed her as she turned to walk inside, her walk a little awkward with the weight of her belly. She didn’t look in the direction the stranger had gone.
They all stepped aside to let her pass, lining the entrance to her bar, beaming where they held the bat-wing doors open for her, before following her inside, blocking the path to her, the protective display missed, like the looks they cast over their shoulders.
Shanks didn’t meet them, waiting instead until they were all inside, and it was just the two of them left on the porch.
“Affiliation?” he asked Ben, his voice pitched a little lower. From within the bar, their voices drifted out, chased by her laughter.
“Unknown,” Ben said, his gaze trained in the direction of the windmills. “He’s not in my ledgers.”
His eyes fleeted down to the one she’d left, the cheerful sticker on the front surrendering no clues of its contents, its unassuming nature a fitting reflection of its owner, and this whole place, which made it only more important that it remained that way.
Shanks nodded. “Take care of it,” he said simply, before turning to follow Makino, the doors left swinging in his wake.
“Aye, Captain.”
Lighting himself a cigarette now that Makino was out of rage, Ben shifted his grip on his flintlock, letting out a curl of smoke before he set off down the road in the direction of the turning windmills.
He’d always been painfully pragmatic―a peddler of difficult decisions, made with unflinching conviction. He didn’t always show mercy, not like her, but then he had his own role in this crew, and this family.
And to keep them safe, the choice would always be painfully simple.
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nyaskitten · 1 year
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Some silly ANS ideas; Kai's dragon is named Ember instead, Zane names his Borealis (yes I'm gonna get fucked up with it), Jay names his Bolt or Zolt Idk, and Cole still names his Rocky for the funnies.
The Spirit Coves are like. REALLY weird. They don't follow the rules of the other worlds, because the Coves aren't a "Realm" as much as "A Place In Between", kinda hard to describe but no Realm Travel can get you there, only a HEAVY spiritual bond. Even then it's risky bc no one rlly comes out of the Coves alive.
The Underworld is rlly fucked up by Garmadon, in that he has a bunch of those weird rocks from s9 Borg Tower all over the place, a bunch of old statues that were in the Underworld for some reason are super damaged, and there's just, a river of lava for no reason.
The Caves of Despair are located in the Forests of Anguish, neither of which are fun, because they have a very... deceptive nature one may say. The Hammer of Quakes (It's gonna be a Hammer for now) can greatly affect and change the layout of the Forests for literally NO reason, it can just. do that. it only stops when Cole takes it from the pedestal, but then that awakens the Earth Guardian who terraforms things wayy worse than the Hammer.
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the-kaedageist · 2 years
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For the WIP ask, I have to know: what is lol essek? 😄
I actually had to check this myself because I did NOT remember writing this at all! It's essentially ~1300 words of Essek being totally furious that he's in love with Caleb because the feeling is driving him absolutely mad. 😂
Here is an excerpt, since I likely won't finish this story! This is more like a complete snippet so I'm putting the majority of it under the cut:
After a day of laughter and wine spritzers – something Essek would not have been caught dead drinking except that a little blue tiefling had insisted – Jester retired for the evening and left Essek to his own devices. He settled in the comfortable little room that he’d been given in the Chateau and prepared for his trance…and his brain refused to be silent.
Caleb, it thought like a spell stuck on repeat. Caleb. What would Caleb think of this tome? Essek tossed the book aside in disgust. What would it be like if Caleb joined you for a walk by the sea? his brain continued, undeterred. What if Caleb was staying here with you? What if Caleb kissed you—
Essek rolled over and buried his head in the pillow, making a muffled noise that he would have sworn before a judge and jury was not something so undignified as a scream. He’d never felt such a way before in all his existence, always left untouched by others before the Mighty Nein had shoved their way into his life and left it hopelessly altered. And they had all been impactful, and he treasured them all dearly, but his feelings for Caleb were—
He rolled over onto his back and stared up at the mottled inn ceiling in despair. His feelings for Caleb were devastating.
The next day did not fare much better. Jester packed up more wine spritzers and dragged Essek to the beach at midday, which he tolerated only because the alternative was to stay inside and think about Caleb. He was so, so tired of thinking of Caleb; he never wanted to stop thinking of Caleb.
Jester spread a blanket out in a small isolated cove and put up the enormous beach umbrella that she’d lugged along with her, tilting it so that it covered Essek almost completely. He glanced up at her, a presence as bright as the sun that plagued him, and wondered if she could help him.
“Jester,” he said.
“Essek!” she chirped, handing him a small travel tumbler filled with wine.
Essek looked out at the sea, dimmed slightly by the dark glasses he wore perched across his nose. He thought about how, even in direct sunlight, the ocean was impossibly beautiful. The only time he’d spent by the sea before his recent adventures had been those horrible days in Nicodranas that led up to his unmasking, the horrible party and its ending in a ship’s hold. He suddenly yearned, more than anything, to create other memories around the ocean with all of the Mighty Nein. With Caleb.
He thought, just briefly, of sending to Caleb to ask him to join.
“What are you thinking, Essek?” Jester asked in a deceptively mild tone that told Essek that the subject of his thoughts was painted across his face.
Essek took a sip of his wine spritzer – it fizzed on his tongue, truly horrendous – and swallowed it for courage. “I was just thinking, perhaps our friends would enjoy such an outing as well,” he said with none of the deceptive coolness that he’d once possessed as the Shadowhand of the Bright Queen. It was possible that the fact that his stupid…feelings…were driving him mildly off the edge of sanity had leaked through.
Jester grinned at him. “You’re so smart, Essek, that’s a great idea!” Before he could reply, perhaps play his comment off as a wistful joke, she was already casting in true Jester fashion, fingers twirling through the air in the somatics for Sending. “’Hi Caleb!’” she chirped. Essek groaned and tried to bury himself in the sand. “Essek and I are having a beach day! I’m sure it’s cold and boring in Rexxentrum, don’t you want to join us?” She wrinkled her nose for a moment before finishing off the message with a little tune of “dododo!”
Impressive, how she always seemed to know when she was short of 25 words so she could add something superfluous (almost as impressive as how she seemed to never know when she was approaching her limit and her messages cut off mid-sentence).
“Jester,” Essek said desperately.
She held up a hand. “He’s tempted,” she whispered to Essek, even though they were the only two in the little cove. She groaned a moment later. “But he’s busy with preparing for his lessons. Boring.”
Essek hated the little drop of disappointment that curled its way around his heart at her words. It was so foolish – he was blessed to even have the company of Jester, his dear friend. There was no need for Caleb to join them for the day to be fulfilling or fruitful. He angrily took another sip of the wine spritzer and coughed on the carbonation, sputtering.
Love has no dignity, he thought sourly as the sound of Jester’s laughter rang through the air.
Ask me about my wips! | Other responses
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pirateshelby · 1 year
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The Forgotten Cove is empty, and that is partially by design: if anybody could just sail in, then people who know the truth could slip right under Shelby’s nose to kill her in the night. There are rocks placed strategically beneath the waves to stop people sailing straight in, the open inviting bays more of a deception than a welcome.
Stratos is empty in a different way: it is simply so big that no matter how many people you stuffed inside, it would never be full.
Shelby slips between glistening quartz structures and hops over holes in floating bridges, thoroughly unnerved by how quiet this place is. The quiet is good for one thing, at least, and that’s for the lack of people who will spot her mining the large pile of gold just sitting out in the open. Why does Jimmy even have this, anyway?
She’s about half way through the orb (is it the Stratoshemisphere, now?) when a voice calls out, “Um, and what do you think you’re doing?”
Shelby squeaks and drops her pickaxe. It goes tumbling over the edge of the floating island, down to the ground far below. Welp. She’s never getting that back. She turns around slowly, shoulders up by her ears, and grins at the god staring down at her with a disbelieving expression.
“What makes you think I’m doing anything?” she asks.
He gapes at her. “You’re stealing my gold! I caught you red-handed!” he accuses.
“Well—hey now—stealing is a strong word—it’s not what it looks like...?” 
“Okay, then.” He folds his arms. “What is it, then?”
Shelby opens and closes her mouth wordlessly. Like a fish. “I’m, uh, borrowing it?”
“Borrowing it,” Jimmy repeats dryly. “And what would you be borrowing it for?” 
“Enrichment?” she tries.
Jimmy’s expression turns dark. Wrong answer. “Put it back. Now,” he demands.
“I really can’t do that—look, listen!” she yelps, when Jimmy pulls out an axe. “I, uh, look, I really need this, okay? I’m, um, I’m trying to impress a princess!” she blurts. Jimmy stares at her blankly. She takes a breath and forges on. “Just let me take it for a little bit? I’ll bring it back!”
“You’ll bring it back,” he echoes flatly.
“Mhm! I’ll even do you a favour!” she offers brightly. “An IOU, just for you. Redeemable anytime. Just, y’know, let me take the gold for a couple days! I swear I’ll bring it back.” She crosses her fingers behind her back. “Pirate’s honour.”
“That does sound like a pretty good… No.” He shakes his head. “Put the gold back, Shelby.” 
“How about I just take half of it! You keep this half, and I take what I already have, and then I bring it back in a couple days?”
“Or, better idea, I kill you and then I get everything in your inventory.”
“I’d like to see you try,” she mutters, and then, louder, before he can call her out on it, says, “how about I leave you something? As, as insurance, you know? You keep something of mine, I keep something of yours, we swap.” 
“Yeah? Like what? I doubt you have anything as important as this gold.”
Shelby reaches up and fiddles with her amulet, glancing off to the side. “This is my good luck charm,” she says quietly. “It stops you from drowning at sea. It’s the only reason I’m around right now, so… It’s pretty important to me.” She bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smirking. “I don’t really want to part with it… But I will if it means I can borrow the gold.”
Jimmy’s eyebrows crease. “This is really that important to you?” he asks, sounding a little baffled by the notion.
Shelby nods, reaching up and pulling the cord that holds the necklace from around her neck. “It is,” she says, holding it out to him. “So. Do we have a deal?”
Several emotions flicker across his face too quickly for her to read them. He sighs. “Fine,” he says. He reaches out and takes the amulet from her hand. “You better bring it back, Shelby.”
Shelby nods quickly. “Oh, I will!” she says brightly. “Pleasure doing business with you, uhh… your holiness?” she tries.
“Yeah,” he loops the necklace over his own neck, pulling a face at the decimated orb of gold. “I’ll see you in a few days for the handover. Be there.”
“Right.” Shelby grins, crossing her fingers once more. “I’ll be there.”
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bldmnrises · 8 months
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. > @redempti !
gloom spread like cancerous cells, multiplied through scourged lands and sea, breeding malice - hate - unjust rage through each cycle of the moon. to a yiga clan member, this spoke of the prophecy, the rise of the calamity. . . of lord ganondorf's ascent. to simple little gaele, all this was was a small panging headache of misunderstanding. nothing made sense ; the sky ran red, the moon filled with blood, and chitinous appendages rose to raise the depths into the skies. up was down, down was up, and where she stood in the middle left her tumbling head over heels.
summoned by master kohga, she assumed her mission easy. . . a mere delivery to the pocketed cove cast away from sights and sounds, in a rich darkness unearthed from the vast abyss itself. alone, and torn from her wits, gaele stands at the precipice where dense smog rolls of cavernous opening, and the deep descent looms with brimstone. her voice calls out, hollowed by the empty walls and chambers further in, hoping to rile whomever lay dormant to present forward. " h- hello? delivery from the YIGA CLAN. "
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feathers brush back against scaped chin, as death blows an exhale from entrance's maw, chills shot down young member's spine. it's a domineering and intimidating sight, and as desperately as she wishes to back down, to cower and shrivel back. . . she clings to the insatiable urge to NOT DISAPPOINT kohga.
something moves, whispers call. . . and mindless steps venture in, without a light source beyond that of adjusting eyes. swallowed whole by the environment beyond what barely sees, demons shift and shadow her bleak movements inward to lair's heart, pitifully weak pitter-pats of feet carrying wayward soul into the mouth of the king's chambers. a lone fire sparks ahead, one of pure crimson and scarlet dances. a brief light of hope, so she thinks.
and so, gaele advances. . . persuaded by the dim flicker of a demon's flame and deception.
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Fnaf system reboot au
Returning redesigned characters: good guy character’s info/descriptions (canon)
1. Glamrock Bonnie bunnle: a animatronic bunny and a main character in the au story. Bonnie is a member of the glamrock band who plays the bass guitar, Bonnie is the head mascot of Bonnie bowl where he competed against others, Bonnie much like his other bandmates acts more human than machine. Species: animatronic bunny/reborn soul. Soul: Shawn Maven. Date of creation: July - 30th - 20xx early. Appearance: Bonnie appearance is inspired by many concept arts, except he’s blue and has violet eyes, he also wears heart sunglasses. Personality: Bonnie is smart, friendly, clumsy, shy, excitable, dorky, talkative, fun loving. Corrupted personality: when infected by the g-t virus Bonnie is intelligent, deceptive, reckless, aggressive, obsessive. Facts/info: Bonnie actually prefers golf than bowling, he actually gave Monty his old sunglasses and got a new pair. Power/features: animatronic physiology (strength/speed/durability/advance ai/inbuilt e-manual/databank archive), enhanced audio features (sound sensors/vibration detectors/sound translation/audio triggers), spiritual awareness, ghost haunting. Skills: keen intellect, adept learning, empathy/sympathy, caretaking expertise, tracking expertise. Likes: friends/family, bass guitars, bowling, reading. Dislikes: violence, scary things, making mistakes.
2. Glamrock foxy pyro: a animatronic fox and a main character in the au story. Foxy is a member of the glamrock band and while he doesn’t have a instrument like the rest of them he does help with the music and stuff, foxy is the head mascot of kids cove where he inspires children to be pirates, foxy is actually the 2nd most human than machine animatronic just behind Freddy. Species: animatronic fox/reborn soul. Soul: Jeremy Fitzgerald. Date of creation: July - 5th - 20xx early. Appearance: foxy has a red and black color scheme, he has long light orange hair and orange eyes, like Funtime foxy he has no eyepatch or hook, his pants are black and white panther spotting. Personality: foxy is smart, cunning, crafty, sarcastic, relentless, tough, friendly, caring. Corrupted personality: foxy becomes unworkable when infected with the g-t virus. Facts/info: foxy prefers to spend most of his time by himself but does like it when others are around, he and Freddy are frenemies. Powers/features: animatronic physiology (immense strength/immense speed/immense agility/durability/advance ai/ inbuilt e-manual/databank archive), spiritual awareness, 6th sense, ghost haunting. Skills: high intelligence, raw cunning, adept learning, leadership, self defense, stealth. Likes: friends/family, pirates, boats, the ocean, relaxation. Dislikes: rude/Annoying people.
3. Starlight ballora: a animatronic humanoid and a important character in the au story. Ballora was once a attraction at the mega pizzaplex but she managed to somehow escape and has been hunted down by fazbear entertainment ever since, she like the glamrocks also seems to be haunted. Species: animatronic humanoid/reborn soul. Soul: Serena afton/mrs afton. Date of creation: unknown. Appearance: ballora appearance is inspired by concept art for glamrock ballora with original works as well, she has purple hair and yellow eyes. Personality: ballora is intelligent, calm, levelheaded, caring, helpful, responsible, relentless. Facts/info: urban legends have been going around that a mysterious cloaked figures goes around helping people. Powers/features: animatronic physiology (strength/immense speed/immense agility/immense flexibility/durability/advance ai/inbuilt e-manual/databank archives), faceplate split, body part detachment/reattachment, hologram projection, light/sound frequency changer, grappling wires, purple smoke release, spiritual awareness, ghost haunting, telepathy. Skills: genius level intelligence, strategic planning, adept learning, leadership, empathy/sympathy, parkour, gymnastics/acrobatics, science expertise. Likes: family/friends, studying life/biology, art/music, singing/dancing, resting. Dislikes: evil/malicious/selfish acts.
Other minor (not so important) older redesigned animatronics/entertainment bits (just for fun lol)
1. Glamrock mangel
2. Glamrock bonnet
3. Mr chef cupcake
4. Bubble balloon boy
5. Bubble jj
6. Polly patcher (what I call rockstar foxy’s parrot)
7. Mini joe
8. Oracle gypsy. (What I call the sister location gypsy thing)
9. Partybab
10. Fairyreena
11. Glamrock el chip
12. Glamrock Mr hippo
13. Glamrock Orville elephant
14. Glamrock happy frog
15. Glamrock pigpatch
16. Glamrock neddbear
17. Giant candy cadet
18. Grand prize king
19. Glamrock yenndo
20. Glamrock lolbit
21. Service helpy
22. Sugar baby
23. Neon puppet
24. Glamrock fredbear/golden freddy
25. Glamrock springbonnie/glamtrap
26. Handunit 2.0
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silyabeeodess · 1 year
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FusionFall Headcanons: Barrel Bashers
Despite their clumsy, unassuming appearance, Barrel Bashers can be one of the most dangerous fusion monsters to face off against. According to their description, “the tanks this thug uses for feet are filled with highly-flammable gas” that can erupt on you if you aren’t careful. They have little to no care for their own safety, much less the safety of anyone or anything else around them.
One thing that fusion fighters emphasize to new recruits when dealing with these things is to not make assumptions based on how non-threatening they look when compared to other fusion monsters.  They aren’t huge or hulking like the Oil Ogres or monstrous like the Batty Bloodsuckers, but slip into the background with their standard, barrel-shaped bodies.  If they were to sit around and keep still on the battlefield, or if you were just to see them at a distance, it can be easy to overlook them.  They look like a mess of containers some kid strapped together for a botched art project. It can be easy to think that you wouldn’t have to put any effort into fighting them. Then, when the fight actually starts, you’re gunned down before you even have the chance to realize what happened. 
There are multiple factors that make them a serious threat.  Again, their tricky appearance is at the top of that list. While actually containing a highly-flammable gas as mentioned, their feet are ironically repurposed from fire extinguishers.  To the unaware soldier, this can mentally play with them since most people naturally wouldn’t guess that an extinguisher would burst into flames. Working off that false sense of safety, a fusion fighter might attack a Barrel Basher’s legs, hoping to cripple them, and end up setting themselves and the immediate area on fire as a result. This deception was common in the earlier days of the war.
Because their main body, the barrel itself, is largely made of wood, this also means that the monsters themselves will also catch fire.  When this happens, they have no problem taking others down with them, charging at their enemies or other nearby targets and spreading the flames further.  This makes fighting them especially difficult in the suburban areas they’re frequently spotted in. 
The other big danger is that the Barral Bashers have a perfect 360-degree view of their surroundings as well as the ability to attack from all sides without the need to change position. Each one has a set of four eyes and four turrets set in opposing directions like the points on a compass. This means that they don’t have any natural blind spots and can easily counter wherever attacks come from. If they do need to slightly change where they aim, they can also swivel on two gears set near the center of their bodies.
An experienced and strong melee fighter can sometimes get close enough to slice the Barrel Bashers apart at that narrower swivel point on their bodies, but it is a hard tactic to perform successfully since you’d have to dodge the turrets to get close enough.  Rather, the best thing to do is to shoot from a distance and never aim low.  Thankfully, the wooden frame of the barrels are weak, so a good round of blasts can take them down. If you take out one of their eyes in the process, all the better, since that can give you a blind spot to work with.
Despite the clumsy appearance of their five legs, they’re pretty stable and can scuttle around without issue. The tanks are heavy, but the tubes connected to them are easy for the monsters to bend/control.
From reviewing the missions they appear in, particularly “Supplies Party,” it seems their most common objective is to steal/interfere with supply deliveries between Peach Creek and Candy Cove.  As mentioned when discussing both locations in previous posts, those areas are key to transporting goods due to their access to the Slider as well as an important waterway.  Candy Cove’s base is a well-kept secret, but the heavy traffic to and from the area wouldn’t go unnoticed. The Barrel Bashers are one of a handful of fusion monsters that roam the area, hoping to attack supply units or discover where the pirates’ camp is.  
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bloodwiine · 8 months
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CHARACTER BASICS
Full Name: Kaveri Natarajan Nickname: Kava Age: twenty-eight Gender: cis woman Pronouns: she & her Ethnicity: Indian ( Tamil ) Nationality: Veritean Education: Homeschooled & School on the island / at the cove Occupation: Co-Owner of Nautical Necessities & Siren's Sips Hometown: Echo Cove Current location: She still resides in Echo Cove but has a cove she's found near the shop if she's ever too tired that she occasionally uses. Species: Mermaid. Written Aesthetics: random doodles in the sand, everyone’s friend, daydreaming in the sun, bright eyes and blushed cheeks on chilly mornings & champagne bubbles
trigger warning: n/a
CHARACTER APPEARANCE 
Face Claim: Simone Ashley Height: 5'8" / 1.74 Hair Colour: black with aquamarine streaks Eye Colour: dark brown Dominant Hand: left Distinguishing Features: lively smile, dimples, blue streaks in her curly locks
SUPERNATURAL EXTRAS 
Abilities: hydrokinesis/hydrotelekinesis, enhanced abilities, vocal mimicry, healing touch, bioluminescence, marine telepathy Have you always been aware of your abilities?: Why of course, I can't imagine what it's like to be anything but a mermaid. Favorite Magical Items: Oh, I do love starfish and the way they compliment you endlessly. There's nothing like a little confidence boost from those cute little guys. What supernatural creature is your character most scared of?: Oh mother and father always warned me to stay away from all those above water, but most horror stories revolved around humans and vampires, so both of them. And octopus, though not necessarily a supernatural creature, they definitely do seem magical. Who or what would they die for? Just about anyone really, though they'd prefer not to. Does your character fight or flee? Likely flee or freeze in terror...depends on the situation, to be honest.
PERSONALITY
Positive Traits: curious/eager to learn, daring, dreamy, genuine & passionate
Negative Traits: impatient, dismissive, deceptive, naive, selfish, materialistic, impatient & impulsive
Neutral Traits: adventurous, resourceful, inquisitive, open-minded, optimistic, sentimental, observant & empathetic
Goals/desires: travel beyond veritas isles, find true love, expand her personal collection of treasures, protect marine life.
Hobbies: exploring the island both on land and by water, collecting shells & trinkets, reading romance novels, exploring shipwrecks, gardening, stargazing and moonlight walks, learning human traditions, learning languages & jewelry crafting
Habits: morning reflections/yoga, random acts of kindness, eavesdropping on conversations, chaotic organization, overcommitting, impulsive spending, biting nails, twirling hair, easily distracted, will avoid confrontation
CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT Q’S
QUESTION ONE: were you born on the island, if so, what kind of curiosities do you have about the world beyond? if you weren’t, what do you miss about the world outside veritas isles? 
I was born here, and it's impossible not to be curious especially whenever I learn of or discover a new object I've never seen before for my shop. I would love to get the chance to travel further than Oasis Isle. Maybe one day.
QUESTION TWO: what is your favorite part about the island? 
Even when I think I've uncovered all the treasures there are to find, I always manage to find more. There's so much beauty and knowledge within everyone, and each individual has a unique story to tell.
QUESTION THREE: if your character is supernatural, do they fear humans? if human, do they fear the supernatural? 
I am quite curious about them, but I also do fear the tales I've been told as a child. But, I've become more and more accustomed to them, and they aren't all bad.
QUESTION FOUR: share a fun headcanon or fact about your character! this doesn’t have to be long, just something to introduce us to your character! 
Like most mermaids, Kava has always found herself drawn to shiny things and because of this always had a collection but the more and more time spent near Oasis Isle and Justport, the more she knew that she wanted to do more with it and not only explore the ocean. Eventually she befriended an elderly man who told her tales of the world beyond, as well as shared trinkets that he had in his pawn shop. They developed a cute, platonic friendship, almost like a grandparent - grandchild bond, though when he passed on, he left the shop for her. Initially, her family was against it, but they've learned to accept it. For the most part.
ADDITIONAL HEADCANON
Kava is a hopeless romantic and loves to read, mostly romance novels that has her dreaming of places outside Veritas Isles such as Paris. Because of this, she has a tendency to crush easily and hard, which leads often to heartbreak. But, she still hasn't given up on the idea of true love.
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
close friends
her pod friends !
family members
a co owner that runs the speakeasy side of the business
people she's crushing on or has crushed on, i imagine her to be the type to fall a little bit in love with everyone
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mrs-mquve · 2 years
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@phoebe-twiddle​
Why, I never thought you’d ask! (looks like you saw my post not-so-secretly hoping someone would tag me 😉 Tumblr was giving me issues putting pictures in an ask reply so I’m just doing it this way.
I hope sims based on existing fictional characters count, because I think it’s pretty obvious my favorite sim is Laegrinna!
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Laegrinna is the Devil’s daughter and the protagonist of Deception IV: Blood Ties, a game in which the object is to lure enemies into deadly traps. Which, thankfully, she has yet to do in my Sims ga-
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WHERE DID YOU GET THOSE TORTURE DEVICES I swear I turn my back for one second and-
*ahem* Anyway. She sets these traps using magic, so naturally, in my game she is an evil witch. She runs a magic shop called The Witching Hour with her sister Velguirie, in which various relics, reagents, and items of questionable origin are sold.
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Laegrinna is way more outspoken in the Sims world than in Deception. I originally gave her the Knowledge aspiration, but once she opened her shop and started raving to everyone about the wonders of eye of newt and viper venom, I found she gets along rather well with people, even if for all the wrong reasons. These are her stats:
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I want her to run more (evil) businesses, so I changed it to Popularity. Which had the added benefit of a third chemistry bolt with her fiance, Zeno.
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Zeno Shin is a major enemy in Deception IV that you - as Laegrinna - kill in order to retrieve the 12 Holy Verses and resurrect your father, but I am a sucker for enemies-to-lovers AUs, so in my head and in my Sims game she spared his life and he fell under her wicked spell, entranced by her ethereal beauty. He must have managed to melt that icy heart of hers a bit because they are quite passionate....
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Laegrinna knows damn well how beautiful she is because that girl is FOREVER (autonomously) checking herself out in the mirror. Also, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, she has heterochromia - one gold eye and one blue. Her favorite color is a deep sapphire shade of blue, so whenever I recolor something that suits her style I’m sure to make it in that color for her or else she might drop a giant ball of spikes on my head or something.
On the rare occasion I actually play the game I have aging off (Laegrinna is immortal anyway) and take things slow with my favorite characters - I don’t want it to end, I guess - so that’s why Laegrinna & Zeno aren’t married yet. I’m starting over Crescent Cove once I’ve overhauled all my CC, so I'll be playing the Deception characters from the beginning again.
I’m just going to be lazy and tag any simmer who sees this because I know a lot of people have done it already 😄
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tiutale · 2 years
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"Your burdens are heavier tonight."
Rôg turned to the sinda walking along the cliffside to the spot he had chosen to hang his sorrows. Feet dangling over the edge of a fall not even an elf could survive. "No heavier than each passing of our time. I simply lack the energy to hise it as I do."
Thranduil looked out over the vast waters that lapped the edge of the cliffside. "I know well that level of exhaustion, friend." Walking over he flooped down beside the Gondolin Lord in a most undignified manner.
Rôg's lips twitched at the corners. "You are no more a dignified elf than Feanaro pretends to be." He said with amusement.
Thranduil situated himself so he sat with his legs also dangling over the edge of instant death. He raised an eyebrow and looked at this fairly depressed elf. "I will ignore the insult of your comparison in favor of your mood, Lord of the Hammer."
Rôg chuckled and gave a nod of thanks turning his eyes back to the endlee horizon. "My apologies. I seem to lack the energy for properly placed words as well."
"Taking a burden upon yourself through percieved failure is something of a Noldorin fault."
Rog did not turn but his shoulders tensed.
"Living in a place of constant shadows encroaching on my home I have learned one lesson that seems to escape others so easily." He looked down as a group of dolphins played in the cove. "Though one's mind may decieve the host in its words and urges. It is never taken as a protection for those around you. It is a burden to them. To watch your endless battle."
Rôg turned slowly to the elf beside him. "I know well it harms those around me. Tis yet another failing of my own creation."
Thranduil shook his head and his silver blue eyes locked on the troubled amber ones of the noldor. "Tis not a creation of yours. Tis a weaving of many false threads tasked with hiding truths. Your mind does not decieve you in such a way to harm your nor those you love. Tis a protection. A deception with means to protect the damage of your experiences from irrepairably harming itself. The difficulty of weeding through such threads to heal that which has been harmed within is a journey no elf should tske alone."
Rôg looked down at his hands curled into tight white knuckled fists.
"Nor is this a journey that should be avoided. I do not imply it will be easy. Nor do I demand you speak, Rôg. I do encourage you, when you may be ready, to seek me should you wish to find healing. I know well of the games the mind plays. I offer guidance only. Most of the journey will be upon your shoulders."
Rôg looked back out to the horizon his feet now cold from their position. "I will consider your words. Thranduil."
Thranduil gave a long look at the elf beside him before grinning and taking. amore haighty tone to his words. "As well you should. I am aftet all the only elf of my time that kept my realm from the shadows by sheer force of will." His eyes twinkled as he put his hands one the ground and leaned back his feet kicking lightly against the cliff wall. "Noldor need magical implements to handle their kingdoms. Truly pitiful."
Rôg, despite his heavy thoughts, smiled slightly. "Not all Noldor possessed magival items and protected their realms as you did, Sinda."
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damanbeatty · 11 years
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Captain Whidbey Inn, Whidbey Island, WA
Original Post Date July 14, 2013
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Our next stop on Whidbey Island was the Captain Whidbey Inn, nestled in the heart of Ebey’s Landing National Historic Reserve in Coupeville, Washington.
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It is surrounded by forest and hugs the shore of Whidbey Island’s Penn Cove.
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Stepping through the Inn’s front door takes you back to 1907 when Judge Still and his men originally cut and placed the first timber and laid the stone for the Inn.
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Inside, you will enjoy a 100 year tradition of outstanding Whidbey Island lodging and hospitality.
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From the Captain Whidbey Inn website…
The Captain Whidbey Inn is a romantic turn of the 20th century inn for that perfect "get away" weekend in front of the fire, exploring Whidbey and the San Juan Islands or finding privacy for a corporate retreat. Stay in the delightful original log inn, our charming waterfront cabins or enjoy the tranquil view from the modern accommodations of the lagoon view rooms. Settle in to our luxurious new Euro top and feather beds complete with down comforters, relax in front of your own crackling fire in one of the cabin fireplaces or just ponder the meaning of life on the inn's sun-drenched deck while enjoying the expansive sweep of Penn Cove. Our lovely pebble beach and the boat dock are just steps away for guest's use, and of course, our gracious "living room" where you can warm yourself in front of Judge Still's original fireplace. 
If you’re interested in outdoor activities, your stay at the Captain Whidbey Inn places you in the heart of the "rain shadow” of the Olympic Mountains, Coupeville and the Captain Whidbey Inn receive just half of the annual rain of Seattle and Vancouver BC. You can spend days exploring Ebey’s Prairie National Historic Reserve or the historic Fort Casey and Admiralty Head Lighthouse by car or the inn’s bicycles. Miles of beaches and the spectacular Deception Pass State Park are all easily accessible and allow for lovely day hikes, bicycle rides and picnics while watching our abundant wildlife.
View full album of photos from Captain Whidbey Inn, Whidbey Island, WA.
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solocrow · 2 years
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@stranded-mik​
He’s been watching because - of course he has.  That’s what he does.  He’s watched the chaos ensue after the boom of thunder.  Felt the static in the air - the disruption... 
He’d initially gone to the tree, gazed into the flame ( prepared with his own attunement should the parasite reemerge ), but none seemed forthcoming.  So he had turned his attention to the - people.  Trotting about causing their very own brand of chaos in light of the latest unknown.  And from what he’d managed to overhear, or discern from their scurrying, was that physical contact was - invasive.
And invasion is something he would not allow. ( Or could not afford.  Three decades of that carefully crafted persona, the tale of his past, the truth tailored in such a way, with enough ommissions that it was plausible, believable... As much of a truth as anything on this island could be ).
No one.  NO ONE. Will be invading his memories.  Not now.  Not ever.
So the vigilant remains ever so.  And, as is their way, one of the fuck-knuckles from the group comes wandering.  Blissfully unaware of the dangers of the Island ( blissfully unaware of the danger of Gabriel ) - out for a goddamn stroll. Seriously, how some of them survived beyond a day was dumb luck or a miracle. 
Perhaps he’ll pass.  Gabriel nestled in a raised cove, mostly shrouded by branches and vines.  Perhaps not...
...Apparently not.
So before those footsteps draw ever closer, there’s a single quick movement - a six foot spear suddenly protruding from the shrubbery - at the other end of which was Gabriel, stepping forward with a deceptively calm demeanour and the air of something that might just tear your throat out should you breathe too heavily in his general direction...
...Speaking of throats, that’s exactly where the spear is pointed - a few inches away.  Nothing that the guy would imminently impale himself on.  At least... If he heeded the warning.  Words barked out as a command - not a fucking request.
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“Back. The. Fuck. Up. Cowboy.”
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