#like they had to do a flip off the rope or bar (my mind blanks)

[tanglepelt]

dc x dp snippet? idea? not too sure....

Essentially amity park is a front. The whole town was designed to recruit member for an evil group. The end game to destroy the justice league. My brain took the idea and ran with it. I may continue this. I may not.

Amity Park had always been a strange place. For as log as anyone could remember. A gimmick, a spooky town. It played its role perfectly. No one really looked into it. No one saw the mad scientist or weapons facility as odd. Who would ever think to investigate a tourist trap. The showier they were the more believable. The Fenton’s were assets at keeping tourist gullible, their driving, and obsession sold the show. Keeping the tourist distracted and money coming in. Who would notice the laser watches, they just looked normal. Any ghost attack was just a show. Any damage done and its fixed the next day as if It was planned. The town had was obviously committed to there “haunted” town.

Ghost hunters in amity just made sense. Walking around with weapons was a normal and not suspicious. Locals didn’t care and anyone else thought it was part of the gig. The bigger the dramatics the more they could get away with. With all the chaos and attacks the tourist would be distracted.

It let them track anyone who came into town. They would check in visitors with the guise of making sure they stayed in the living world. Waivers had to be signed or there was no entry permitted.

No one to see how all the kids were more observant, no one to see the the gym coach or classes, no one to see the experiments, and no one to notice the secret town meetings while the children slumbered.

The meetings discussing the children and how they’ve advanced. Who needed to be terminated, who was improving and who would soon be integrated into the loop. Every year they discussed the first-year students. It was there last chance to become incorporated or “move” after high school. They couldn’t risk any of them leaving the town unless they were in the loop. 

After all of if the kids thought their schooling was normal, they’d never question it. The president challenge was harder then most. Why would an average school require flips off the bars or the ability to scale a rope to the roof if a building. The last two years of high school centered around obstacle courses, agility and parkour in gym.

An amity child leaving without being in the fold could be catastrophic. It would only take one to alert authorities for a slight inconvenience. Authorities could be paid to look the other way or easily put down. A hero however would be a headache to deal with. This town was the center of there recruiting. It was do or die.

Now the organization will admit the ghost were a welcomed surprise. A front row sear to watch the progress the kids had. They expected the jocks or even geeks to manage it the best. The seniors to take arms and manage the threat at the very least. The oddball trio was not what they had wanted or expected.

Those three were the problem students after-all. One so into technology it would be hard to keep him in line. The network was heavily blocked a monitored but using him was an issue. He had nearly bi-passed there security on accident. Imagine if he knew what was going on. Then the goth, the activist. She was too much an individual, free thought and radical views. They’d have to break her spirit. Then there was Danny Fenton.

He had promise in the beginning. Well rounded. Wasn’t so caught up in improving others as his sister. Held good grades through elementary and through middle school and was the golden candidate until the previous summer. No longer set to focus on study’s but off with his friends.

As Sam had grown falling away from their potential, she dragged Danny and Tucker with her. Both now had more individual thoughts and opinions straying from his parents. His grades had dropped even before the ghost. Just to A- or so. Attempts to steer them away from her only brought them closer.

If they couldn’t get sam in line they’d have to cut there loses. They’d lose a good potential hacker, the masons would need a new heir someone they could actually mold to gain more funds and business, and they’d lose a potential leader or scientist.

Cutting just Sam would have led to problems. They had tried. Sam was abruptly moved for a week to see what would happen. The guise a business trip. Danny and tucker given no notice. The two took matters in their hands and hunted for her. They nearly discovered the truth of the town. Only once the Fentons explained she was on a trip did they calm down. The trio were deemed lost causes. They were set to bet terminated.

Two weeks before the plan was set to eliminate them the ghost appeared, and it was them who took charge. Now the ghost was always planned, the Fenton’s had been close to opening the portal. So close to new weapons and infinite power supply. Nothing they had done activated the portal. But the problem trio when left alone somehow got it working. The power from the portal shorted the cameras in the lab and they were unable to see how.

 Sam and tucker were out on the field. They were learning at a rapid pace. With them constantly fighting and winning. The three were considered candidates again. They’d still have to break the girl, it was worth the effort now. Add the fact they had a viable solution now.

The newest hero of amity park. Phantom.

Phantom himself would simple a ghost to take care of. Allowing the Fenton to play around for now. What fun was a hunt to them if they couldn’t play with there prey. Once it was time to rid themselves of the pest the Fenton’s could truly hunt.

For now, phantom was getting Sam and Tucker more suited for future missions. He could keep “his” team for now. Danny was obviously the one with the plan. He was never with them but had to be the main contact with phantom. Whenever Danny was around phantom would show to clear his messes.

The surprise reunion with Vlad confirmed their suspicion. Not to mention the Youngblood incident. Danny led his schoolmates to board the ship and free their parents. Only once the ghost shield was down did he go and contact phantom to come handle the rest.

An accident would be in order. It was only a matter of time until the trio grew stagnant and needed more focused teaching. The masons were still an asset they just would not be allowed to be a caretaker again. Jeremy and Pamela mason still were the main source of income. The two were good the schmoozing. Sam would just have to manage field work with her business persona as her “grandmother” had. The Fenton’s were non-negotiable and a necessity to the group. If the need arises, they be allowed to raise another.

The foleys would work. They were good caretakers but served no other purpose to the group. Framing phantom for there deaths should be enough to ignite a need for revenge and break the group apart. Introduce a new fourth to them after the shock wore off.

Valerie had grown as well. She would be brought into the loop soon. The red huntress would be an asset. Her original purpose no longer mattered. Valerie would be easy to recruit. All it seemed to take was some money and a reason to dislike a group. All it took for her to despise ghost was her father losing his job, one of the groups smartest moves yet.

Good thing that reason was already in motion. The anti-ecto acts were set to be announced tomorrow. The justice league would publicly denounce the acts within an hour. They had no reason to condemn an entire species that had shown no sign of aggression. Most ghost weren’t even visible to the public.

With Amitys gimmick who would believe the reports of supposed ghost destruction. Viral videos of it just to be explained through special effects. Keep the rest of the world believing the gimmick and the young in amity only seeing the disbelief.

The justice league would be the key to their own demise. Events have been ruined, the children had been infected by the ghost flu, Sam had been kidnapped by a ghost, and the constant attacks on the school. This was the wedge they needed to keep them in line. To bring them into the fold. The towns caretakers would make sure any opinions of the hero’s would be bad. The only mentions of the hero’s permitted of the hero’s online would be failures and misunderstandings.

Citizens of the infinite realm and ghost were two very different species. Not that the children would ever be allowed to know.

Soon the justice league would fall.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp dc crossover #dp x dc crossover #justice league #if anyone likes this idea take it an run with it #the presidential challenge in micro management made my brain think #it went hard #but like the town is odd #I’m pretty sure the only time cops are in the show is when freak show is happening #the last episode doesn’t count. cause it didn’t happen #the high schoolers are fit #like they had to do a flip off the rope or bar (my mind blanks) #sam’s grandmother is amazing #granny who can fight #i don’t have a name for the group #i blame my sleep pills and a root canal for this actually being written #y’all take care of your teeth today #it’s mentally taxing but worth it if you can do it #the Giw are meant to make the problem look like it’s being taken seriously #there is a reason they are bad at there job #no one can tell me Maddie mrs black belt isn’t purposefully not capturing phantom #Im thinking all the kids could be kidnapped. add to the drama #idk maybe some are hero’s kids #the trio won’t stand for it #Valerie won’t stand for it #she deserves to be redeemed #she could of had such a better arc after the Danni incident

[doubletriplepowerbomb]

Mr. Lonely part 2

Sheamus x fem reader

NON-WWE AU

Word count: +4500

Warnings: none… yet ;)

Tags: @jenn0755 @zappyzoodle @disturbthepearls @lost-in-the-stories @lithesxx @racingandreigns @rocketgirl2410 @vebner37 @therianfurry46 @littlelunaticfringe @finnbalorlover21-blog @winged-time-criminal @mrsnegan25 @xfirespritex @wefunloveruniverse @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Read part 1 here

I woke up at 10 am, fully clothed with a fully clothed Sheamus sleeping soundly next to me. His back was facing me and I watched his body fall and rise slowly, entranced by the freckles that dusted the pale skin I could see.

What the hell did I do?! I kissed him and he spent the night in my bed! I scrubbed a hand over my face before realizing that there was no use trying to take all this in. Whatever, at least we didn’t have sex.

I decided to try to act as normal about this as I possibly could- I wasn’t attached, we never did anything. I got up out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom.

Sheamus awoke to a comfortable bed that was not his own. He rolled onto his back and caught a glimpse of me brushing my teeth in my bathroom.

Ah could get used to this. A satisfied smile graced his face as he laid on his back, his arms behind his head. She looked different than any other girl ah see in the morning. If ah’m being honest, ah don’t stay long enough to see much of ‘em after ah’ve seen all of them.

Here ah am, though, laying in my jeans in the bed of the girl ah used to like in high school. The girl who never picked up on my flirting, never realized that there was another reason ah wanted only her to edit my essays. The girl who always smelled like citrus. She smelled like citrus last night at the bar too. Maybe that's what fucked with my head.

Sheamus turned onto his side to catch a glimpse of the clock on his phone, 10:05 am. At this point, ah would have been long gone. A girl sometimes likes to stay so I usually never have a one night stand at my place. Ah have to stop comparing… this isn’t a one night stand. She’s different.

Sheamus turned onto his other side and watched me brush my teeth.

She’s wearin’ the clothes she wore last night, her jeans and tight black top.

Looks a lot like a one night stand.

“G’morning, y/n.” He spoke from the bed. It startled me slightly but I don’t think he noticed. I rinsed my mouth before walking back into the bedroom. I wasn’t wearing any makeup and my hair looked kinda messy. I felt comfortable, I didn’t feel the need to not show my face until I looked presentable.

For a second, it looked like she was mine.

She’s not yours, lad. Don’t get all screwed up now.

“Good morning, Sheamus.” You would think this would be super awkward, but it wasn’t. There was a comfortable silence as both of us searched for the right words to say but we both came up short. After I realized that we weren’t gonna say much, I turned to my closet and slipped off my black shirt, revealing the black bra underneath.

“Is someone ready to sleep with me now?” Sheamus teased, sitting up in the bed. I didn’t have anything witty to say so I simply unclasped my bra and let it fall down my arms. His breath hitched as his eyes raked over my figure. I’m sure he was praying for me to turn around, but I didn’t. I grabbed a crew neck sweatshirt from the closet and slipped it over my head.

Sheamus couldn’t help the disappointment that filled him as he watched me slip the large sweatshirt over my figure.

“Do you want some breakfast?” I asked before taking off my jeans and slipping on pink pajama pants. Sheamus looked shocked and I explained myself. “I’m sure you don’t usually stay for breakfast but you’re still here and I’m hungry.”

Sheamus smiled before climbing out of bed. I wanted to act smug but I couldn’t, I was too busy staring at him as he got out of the bed and stood before me. His arms were muscular and defined and I could see his abs through the thin white fabric he was wearing-- butterflies shot to my stomach and I felt heat between my legs. Oh my fucking god, I gotta get out of here. I walked out of the room before he could see my face get red.

Sheamus emerged from my room a couple minutes later, he was holding his shirt and placing things back in the pocket. A travel sized toothbrush and deodorant. “You’re kidding. You bring travel-sized toiletries to your hookups?”

Sheamus looked at me with a weird expression. “Yeah, I also always have an extra condom, some people like mornin’ sex.” He said it so simply and he stared at me like I was the crazy one. “Ah’m like a boy scout, y/n, always prepared.” I laughed at him before handing him a paper plate with an egg sandwich on it.

“I hope you like sunny side up, I forgot to ask.” I told him, while carrying my plate to the small wooden table in my apartment.

“Don’t worry, ah like everythin’.” Even that sounded seductive, he either meant it to be or I was going absolutely mad.

We didn’t talk about anything important as we ate, just random, comfortable, small talk. Somewhere during our conversation, something clicked in Sheamus’ head. “Y/n, I know ya keep brushing this off, but I really do like ya.” He paused and my mind raced. He didn’t let me speak though, the next thing he said seemed to answer my fears. “Ah’m not just sayin’ it cause I want to sleep with ya, ah’m sayin it because ah was more content just sleepin’ next to ya than ah’ve ever been sleepin’ with any girl.” I was silent. My mind went blank. “Ah haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

“Who made you feel it before?” I asked quietly, my eyes looking downward at my coffee. I don’t really know why I asked it, it kinda just came out.

“You. In high school.” My eyes shot open, but he kept talking. “Ah had the biggest crush on ya, why do ya think I asked you to edit my papers every day?”

“Well I thought you needed help writing. You always did make the same mistakes though,” I paused as the pieces fell together in my head. “Oh my god. Sheamus, did you just make stupid mistakes in your essays so I would help you?” He nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me in high school? I always liked you too.” Now it was his turn to open his eyes in shock. “Why do you think I helped you? You were so charming and you seemed so helpless.” There was hope behind his eyes. Snap out of it. “But that doesn’t mean anything now. I don’t want to sleep with you no matter how much you might like me.” The hopeful glow behind his eyes disappeared.

“Ah don’t wanna just sleep with ya. I wanna be with ya.”

That was worse. Does he say this to all the girls he deems difficult assignments? I couldn’t trust him, I wanted to but I couldn’t. My stomach was doing flips as I imagined being with him. Waking up with him every morning and spending long nights in his arms- but that would never happen. He’s lying.

I couldn’t hide the skepticism on my face. He saw it but didn’t say anything more, I don’t know how he expected me to believe him. I wanted to be serious but I couldn’t make anything serious come out, “Well, if you want me that bad you’ll have to prove it.” I was hoping to say something along the lines of ‘Sheamus I can’t trust you and you know that.’

“Ah can prove it, y/n. Ah promise ah can.” I rolled my eyes and he smirked. “Just you watch, y/n. Ah have to go to work now but ah’ll come by the bar tonight.” His voice sounded so smooth and so confident- I was melting in my chair. He grabbed his flannel and walked up to me still sitting in my chair, he bent down and I looked up at him, thinking he was going to say something. But he kissed me instead. Then he smiled and left my apartment.

What the fuck?

What have I done?

I watched the door for a few more minutes, I was stuck in shock. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. After a while, I had managed to get up and go back to my room to grab my phone. “Megan, you’ll never believe what happened.”

“Did you sleep with him? Was it amazing? Tell me everything!” She squealed.

“Well, not really, no. It’s a long story.” I heard her get settled through the phone. “We kissed last night, at the bar, he stayed until closing. We had been talking and flirting all night but I just thought it was an attraction thing. But when he kissed me I instantly knew what everyone was raving about.” I paused, expecting something from Megan. She was silent but I shook it off. “So then we went back to my apartment and ended up in my bedroom but then I told him that I didn’t want to sleep with him. So then do you know what he did?”

“Did he leave?” She shouted. “How could you let him leave?!”

“No, no,” I started, “he didn’t leave. He just kissed me again and told me he wasn’t gonna force me into it. Then we fell asleep… fully clothed. We woke up and I made him breakfast and we talked.”

“Are you sure this was Sheamus? It sounds like he likes you.” Megan teased.

“Well then he told me that he liked me!” Megan gasped. “Yeah, he told me that he’s liked me since high school and that he was gonna prove to me that I can be with him.”

“That… is bonkers. Y/n he likes you! That’s great, but why does he need to prove anything.”

“Because I can’t get over things the way you can, Megan. I’m not as optimistic as you. I can’t get attached to him. I’ll be so hurt when I see that he’s moved on to other girls. And what if I’m working? This won’t last, there's no way he won't get bored of me then I’ll see him at my bar and I’ll have to serve him while girls fall all over him begging for him to spend the night again.”

“You already sound attached, honey.” Megan said, sounding defeated.

“I know. I get it though, he’s hypnotizing.”

“I know he is. But, I wouldn’t worry. I know a lot of girls Sheamus has been with and none of them have ever said anything like that.”

“Really?” Don’t get your hopes up.

“Yeah really, he’s never forced anyone into anything but he doesn’t stay the night with girls who don’t wanna sleep with him and he never stays for breakfast. He always wakes up before you then gets dressed and is gone. Sometimes he gets roped into morning sex but never breakfast.”

I stayed silent but I felt relieved- I know I shouldn’t care. I should feel indifferent, what do I care that he’s never treated any girl like this? Plus, he’s probably lying.

“Well, I gotta run but I’ll swing by the bar tonight.”

“Please. He said he was coming.”

“Of course, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Silence. I let myself flop onto my bed and I felt myself being drawn to the side of the bed he slept on. It smelled like cologne and whiskey.

-

I got to the bar at 4:30 to open for 5. My heart pounded, I had no clue what was going to happen. At 4:50, I let Megan in through the back and at five, Sheamus filed in with my regulars.

“You’re here early,” I teased as he approached Megan and I. I knew the only thing I could do was keep it light and normal. Megan can’t leave and, eventually, a girl will come and take him away.

Megan, Sheamus, and I chatted idly as I served my regulars. We talked mainly about high school, considering we all went together, and a little about college. We talked about our jobs and that’s when Sheamus spoke up.

“Oh. That reminds me. Ah’ve got to finish fixin’ sink pipes for a friend, ah got the final piece to the sink in the mail this mornin'.” He stood up and stared right into my eyes before finishing his statement. He looked at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Ah’ll be right back, y/n. This shouldn’t take longer than 25 minutes.”

I nodded and he ran off, it was only 6:30, younger people wouldn’t start coming in until around 8.

“See, I told you I couldn’t trust him. There he goes running off to ‘fix pipes’.” I mimicked his accent. It hasn’t even been a day since he told me he’d prove that I’m more than just a body to him.

“I think you are still. He just left. We’ll figure out if he’s a liar or not in 20 minutes. If he comes back in time, I think I’d trust him. He seemed kinda worried about leaving you here.” Megan was being too rational. I needed someone to be extra crazy and not support a friend’s budding romance with Mr Lonely.

I wasn’t consciously expecting him to get back, but I was watching the door between serving customers. After 20 minutes, I craned my neck to look at the clock, 5 more minutes. I was still looking at the clock when I heard the door open, I stopped looking at the clock and there he was, walking towards me. I couldn’t help the smile on my face and Megan, upon seeing my expression change, turned too.

“Was someone waitin’ for me?” Sheamus teased once he sat back down in the stool.

I ignored his question. “How’d the sink go?” I asked, sounding more impatient than I wanted to.

“It was fine. Easy fix. I just had to attach a final piece then turn the water back on.” His voice was normal and genuine. There was no hint of guilt and I believed him.

“What about that condom you keep in your pocket? Where’s that?” Megan chimed in. My face went red, if he didn’t already know that I liked him too, he does now.

“Ah didn’t bring it…” he started, only to be cut off by Megan.

“Didn’t bring it? Or already used it?” She accused. I know I said earlier that I wanted her to be crazy. But now that she was, I’m not sure I liked it- I didn’t want her to uncover any truth I wasn’t ready for.

Sheamus looked annoyed. He didn’t focus on her when he spoke, he just kind of stared at her with a glazed over expression. “Ah didn’t bring it.” He paused. “Ah wanted to prove to y/n that I didn’t want to sleep with anyone else.” Sheamus turned to me and noticed my embarrassment and his expression changed, “plus, you know how I operate, lass, would I ever spend only 20 minutes with a woman?” His voice was almost cold, it sounded like he was almost scolding her for making me feel weird.

After the ‘scolding,’ his mannerisms instantly changed and we returned to normal conversation. Megan didn’t seem phased by his tone or gaze from seconds ago. She, like every other girl in Pittsburgh, seemed to fall for his charm and never stay mad at him.

I found it weird that Megan, nor any of my other friends, were jealous. When the rest of my group showed up around 8, they all flocked to Sheamus and Megan told them the “good news.” They were all excited for me. They were supportive and smiley, something I wasn’t expecting.

If what Sheamus wants is true, that’ll mean he’ll retire as the man you can call for a good fucking. Why are they not upset?

Sheamus turned down 3 girls at the bar that night. My friends stayed with us the majority of the night and we had a normal conversation. They no longer treated him like some god who had seen them all naked, but like a friend’s boyfriend. It was weird, but nice. I enjoyed feeling like he was mine.

I know I shouldn’t feel so comfortable right now. The only girl in the bar that he hasn’t seen naked was me. That should scare me, right? He’s seen all of my friends naked, he’s kissed them, he’s slept with them next to him, he’s had sex with them.

Why am I not scared? Y/N!!! He could have anyone in this bar. I should at least be worried!

-

Our first week “together” went by unlike any week I’ve ever had, it felt like I had been dropped into an alternate universe. Sheamus must have felt like he was going to explode- he hasn’t had sex in a week. We talked everyday, he went to work and so did I, the first night we spent together had been the only one. It should have felt normal, but it didn’t. Normally, I wouldn’t have anything to do with him, but I was beginning to understand why so many people liked having him around. Aside from the fact that I expected him to fuck another girl at any moment, he was enjoyable to be around.

It was a Wednesday, two weeks into our companionship, I had just closed the bar and Sheamus was with me. On usual weekdays, Sheamus didn’t stay too late, he worked early in the mornings and I never wanted to keep him up later than he had to be. He stayed with me tonight only because his first job of the next morning was at 11.

Sheamus was standing behind me as I was locking the door and he suddenly spoke, “Ah want ya to come back to my place tonight.” He blurted. I noticed that he had been slightly on the quieter side tonight and I knew he was mulling over something, I guess that was it.

I had never seen his apartment, rumor has it that no one has. He doesn’t bring girls back to his place… ever. I wondered why but I didn’t ask him. “Oh wow, really?” I said both excited and sarcastic.

Sheamus smirked and nodded, “C’mon, love,” he started. My heart stopped beating at the nickname. It’s not a big deal. I had to remind myself that him calling me “love” was not actually him saying he loved me. I knew the Irishman liked to tease, but something inside of me didn’t want to think of it as just a tease or a nickname. “Ya haven’t seen my flat yet.”

I followed Sheamus to his truck, he had driven me to work today, and I climbed in. The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, I caught him singing softly to the songs on the radio but I didn’t mention it. I found it cute and I knew if I called him out, he’d stop.

We arrived at his building, it was only a short drive further than mine but a lot nicer. I followed him out of the car and through the lobby. Sheamus paused to speak to the man behind the security desk. “Hey, Tony, how are ya fella?” I wasn’t surprised, Sheamus was a local personality, everyone seemed to know, and love, him.

“I’m good my man, I’m good. How are you?” His New York-Italian accent was thick. “And who is this lovely lady?” He asked, looking past Sheamus at me. “Ya know I’ve never seen this guy bring a girl here, it must be serious, huh?” I blushed and Sheamus spoke up before I could.

“This is y/n. She bartends over at Jack, ya should stop by it's a nice bar. She’s turnin’ me into an honest man.” Sheamus joked, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close. I smiled up at Sheamus knowing that, despite his joking tone, he meant it.

“Well I’m happy for you two, enjoy your night.” He said happily.

“You too, Tony.” Sheamus spoke before turning toward the elevator with me still wrapped in his arms.

I looked back and waved at the man behind the desk, “It was nice meeting you.” It was the first thing I said since climbing into his truck.

“You too, y/n.”

I don’t know what I was expecting to see in Sheamus’ apartment. I kinda was picturing something like mine, small, on the cheaper side but still nice and plainly decorated. That's not what I saw. Sheamus’ apartment was much bigger than mine. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a large kitchen and living room. Nice big windows that would let in wonderful natural lighting, a beautiful black leather couch, a large TV, and tasteful decor. He looked back and noted my visible confusion. “What,” he started. “You were expectin’ more of a bachelor pad, weren’t ya love?”

I nodded. “This is really nice, why do you never bring girls back here?” I didn't want to know the answer to that question originally. I had thought it was because he lived minimally, I could see now that he didn’t.

“Well ah didn’t want any of them in my house, fer some reason. Ah guess ah wanted to be able to leave. Ah don’t like them gettin’ too attached.” His reasoning was simple. “But ah want you here. Ah want you to get attached, ah’m already attached to ya I feel like it’s only fair.”

I smiled and let him lead me into his bedroom. More large windows and elegant black furniture that contrasted with the clean white walls. The only thing that hung on the wall was a Celtic Cross by his bed. He had photos and momentos, but they were in frames on his dresser and night tables. I didn’t stop myself from looking around. I picked up a picture of a small boy with pale skin and red hair smiling brightly in the arms of a jolly-looking woman with matching pale skin and mousy brown hair. “Is this you and your mom?” I asked, turning back to him with the photo in my hand.

Sheamus grinned and reached up to grab the back of his neck with his hand, I watched as his muscles flexed and the black fabric of his t-shirt rode up, showing shimmering white skin. “Yeah, that’s my ma’.” He moved to stand beside me and pointed to himself.

“You were adorable.” I said, my eyes locked on the small smiling boy in the photograph.

“Ah’m not adorable now?” He asked, a dramatic pained look on his face. I laughed at him and looked back at the small boy in the photo.

“Not as cute as you were here. When was this.” Sheamus had never talked about his life before moving. If he didn’t look or speak like a leprechaun, I wouldn’t even have known he was from Ireland.

He hesitated before leaning his chin on the top of my head, “Ah was four. She had just told me that she was takin’ me to a football game for my fifth birthday. My dad took the picture, he couldn’t come to the game, that or he didn’ want to.” Sheamus took the picture from my hands and placed back down on his dresser. “But enough of that, love.” Sheamus always seemed to know what I was thinking, he knew I wanted to ask more questions but he didn’t want to answer more questions about his father.

Sheamus turned back to me and leaned down to kiss me. His calloused hands held my face and I instantly forgot about what I wanted to ask him. He lifted me up and placed me gently on his bed before crawling over me. We remained clothed until my hands pulled on the hem of his shirt. My shirt came off after his but that was the only thing that came off. Sheamus waited until I made any moves and I didn’t want to tease him. He never made me feel bad about wanting to wait but I couldn’t help feeling a little conflicted about it. My fingernails raked over his pale skin, leaving red trails in their wake. Sheamus pulled away from my lips but didn’t go far. He moved to kiss my chin, his moustache tickled my lips. His soft lips moved down my neck to my collarbones and I couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped my lips. Sheamus pulled back briefly, smirking at the fact that he could unravel me with just his lips. My eyes shot from Sheamus’ face to his neck, exposed and strong, pale and begging to be bitten. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted my shoulders off the bed to attach my lips to his skin. Sheamus moaned as my lips ghosted along his ear and down towards his collarbone. Sheamus moved to his knees and wrapped one of his arms around my back to keep me pressed tightly against his firm body.

“Ah want ya, bad.” He moaned, his voice coming out uncontrollably. I pulled back from his neck and glared into his blue eyes. I didn’t have to speak, he knew what I was thinking. “Ah… uh. Ah mean ah want to… date ya bad.”

I smiled at him as he continued to hold me tightly against him. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you meant.” I moved my arms from the back of his neck to cup his cheeks. I pressed my lips against his and smiled against them. Sheamus laid me back down and pulled away from the kiss.

“Ah didn’t mean to make ya uncomfortable.” His voice was soft and he looked at me sweetly. His fingers brushed across my face gently and pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Sheamus,” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself up to his ear. “We’ll start dating after the first time you fuck me.” I whispered before letting myself drop onto the bed below him. I smirked as I stared up at his shocked face. His blue eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted. “But that won’t happen yet, now let's go to bed.”

Sheamus groaned dramatically and flopped onto the bed beside me. He rolled out of bed only to take off his jeans. He tossed me a pair of sweatpants and asked if I wanted a shirt, I took off my own jeans and agreed to the shirt. The shirt was green and soft, it had an Irish flag across the chest. I turned away from him and slipped my bra off before pulling the shirt over my head. It was long and reached above my mid-thigh. I didn’t put on the pants, the shirt was long enough. Sheamus smirked as he watched me crawl back into bed. Ah could get used to this. He pulled the white sheets and puffy black comforter over us before he wrapped his arm around my waist. His bed was soft and warm, my clothed back was pressed against his bare torso and my bare legs were tangled in his.

I could get used to this.

Part 3

#sheamus #sheamus fanfiction #sheamus imagine #sheamus smut #sheamus x reader #wwe #mr lonely

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Survival

Pairing: Ezra x Reader

Warnings: NSFW (soft, secret/quiet smut. Some thigh riding. None too graphic), death, blood

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: My first Ezra fic! I was gonna wait until tomorrow to post this but I’m really impatient and just said fuck it, it’s 2020. Hope you lot enjoy! As always, requests and prompts are open.

Masterlist

You didn’t want to be stuck on this godforsaken moon.

The Green is what most called it due to its forestry nature. It was beautiful, but deadly all the same. Being the oldest to Cee, it was your responsibility to look after her and show her the ropes.

Damon was not your biological father but took you in anyway after the death of your mother. You didn’t particularly like the man; he was just as cold and distant with you (which you didn’t mind) as he was with Cee. That was what bothered you.

Cee was a very intelligent girl, and you always encouraged her to keep writing her book despite what Damon said otherwise about it. The smile you would receive after was worth all the fights and arguments you would have with Damon over her.

This kind of life wasn’t suitable for a young girl like her. You weren’t related to her by blood, but you always felt like a sister to her. She looked up to you more than she did her father, relied on you for any piece of humanity and comfort. Every decision you ever made was always in Cee’s best interest, because she mattered more to you than anything else in the world.

But it was hard to depart from Damon. Cee still loved her father despite their differences, and so the only thing you could do – while you bided your time to eventually leave and take Cee with you – was to stay and deal with Damon.

His greed was also something you could never stand. Yes it was nice to be rich and plentiful, and you were not oblivious to the realities of the world you lived in; but Damon’s greed was starting to become dangerous, and it was putting Cee in danger as well.

So when you’re standing in the middle of a draw, the man you had learned to be Ezra and his silent partner trying to negotiate, and Damon robbing them point blank as they had tried beforehand, you couldn’t help but feel that this was all a very bad idea.

You rob anyone and it always results in a firefight. You were prepared for it, but yet when the mute and Damon both fired at each other, both you and Cee stood there with blank expressions. Shocked and scared, Cee started to panic as Ezra, the last man standing, quickly went for a weapon.

“Go!” You said to Cee, pointing your thrower at him.

Cee hesitated before making a bee line for the lander. You only hoped that she would be able to get there in one piece.

Ezra smiled and shrugged as he watched her run away, eyes still trained on yours.

“I don’t believe I got your name,” he said.

You hated the fact that despite the situation at hand, his accent – even through your helmets – sent little trembles through you.

“You don’t need it,” you said gruffly. “And tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you down where you stand?”

He huffed. “Well, I think you would’ve by now if that’s what you really wanted sweetheart.”

Your firsts tightened around the grip of your gun. “Don’t call me that,” you growled.

Ezra put his hands up in surrender. “Alright. But I’m serious. You seem like a reasonable person, and I’m willing to negotiate.”

You hesitated. Could you really trust this man? He was partly responsible for Damon’s death, although Damon was just at fault for the whole situation breaking out the way it did, and you had Cee to protect. Ezra hadn’t moved a muscle, watching you with trained eyes.

“We follow through with Damon’s plan,” Ezra continued as he saw you contemplating. “I help you with the girl, offer my protection for the both of you. Not that I think you need it,” he added with a small smile.

You chewed on your lips as you contemplated his offer once more. You eventually aimed your thrower down, glaring at the man.

You told him your name, which brought a shiny grin to his lips as he tested it out with his natural drawl. You hated the way your heart flipped at the sound of it.

“Well then,” he stepped closer to you, and you couldn’t help but take a step back as he did. His smile faltered, just a little. “Let’s go find your girl.”

It didn’t take too long to find the damaged lander. You gave a pattern of knocks before calling out to her. Cee quickly rushed to the hatch, eyes meeting yours in relief but wavering at the sight of the man partly responsible for her father’s death.

“He’s going to help us,” you told her. “We came to an agreement. We’re going to try and find a way off this fucking moon but we gotta move now.”

Cee looked back and forth between you and Ezra. You could see the internal turmoil she was having and hoped like hell she would cooperate with you.

“Okay,” she finally said. You thought for sure she was going to say more, and she most likely wanted to but bit her tongue.  

…

It had only been a week now. You knew time was precious, but the three of you had been monitoring The Green. You weren’t surprised to find other diggers and mercenaries; it was to be expected. Outnumbered, it was your suggestion at biding time and scoping them out, making sure you all had at least a good chance at making it out of there alive.  

You made Ezra promise that if anything happened to you, that he would protect Cee. Their lives didn’t matter, only hers.

“Of course,” the conviction in his voice settled you, as did the firmness in his eyes as he promised you.

Ezra was not only incredibly handsome (which you would’ve fought tooth and nail to dispute), but he was also smart. He knew when to keep his mouth shut, how to dig, fight, track. You figured he had been at this lifestyle for quite some time now, and the old, tired look in his eyes seemed to prove your theory.

Cee wouldn’t give him her name at first, and he – much to your appreciation – did not push it. Eventually, however, you heard her blabbing away about her book to him; your heart swelled at the soft smile Ezra held as he encouraged her to continue.

It was rocky at first, your little partnership. You only answered his questions when it was necessary, and always kept your thrower in your hand just in case. Ezra was nothing but patient with you and overtime you had begun to open up to him.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough,” you said to him. Cee stayed behind to rest in Ezra’s tent while you and Ezra went out to scout. “For Cee, I mean.”

Ezra, who was walking in front of you, stopped to turn around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You looked down, suddenly shy. “I- I mean that I’m not doing enough for her.”

He nodded then in understanding, turning back around to lead the way. “You’re tryin’. Putting her wants and needs above yours, it’s the best you can do for a young one.”

You nodded. You knew he didn’t see it, but you were so deep in thought you didn’t even realize he stopped dead in his tracks until you literally bumped into him. He caught you before you could fall, and you wanted nothing more than to melt in his arms in that moment.

“She obviously cares about you very much,” he assured, arms still settled around your forearms. You looked up at him, fighting hard not to trail your eyes down to his lips, which you desperately wanted to feel against yours. You wondered if they would feel soft or chapped, what he would taste like against your tongue.

“And I can see that you do too. Now I know that we had a rough start, but I gave you my word. The girl will see off this moon alive, no matter what.”

You clenched your jaw. “Yeah,” you croaked. “She will.”

You also couldn’t deny the sexual tension that coursed between you and Ezra. He didn’t miss the way you would quickly avert your eyes once he caught you staring at him, or the way you would hold your breath when he was close to you, fingers twitching as if you were desperate to feel his touch.

Being the man that he was, he teased you. Little brushes against you, blowing it off by reaching behind you to grab a bar or a tool. Throwing you little smirks when you explain something to him. It was driving you crazy, and you wanted nothing more than to jump the man. The only thing that stopped you, really, was that you had Cee.

You knew Cee had detected the flirting, and she rolled her eyes every time Ezra cracked a joke at your expense. It felt like your skin was crawling. The thick, fiery boil in your stomach coiling and coiling until it threatened to explode. The ache in your core was one of the worsts of all; it had been so long since you felt the intimate touch of another.

While Cee was dead asleep, you had decided enough was enough. The next sunrise was the day to finally make a move for the Queen’s Lair, and there was no guarantee for anyone’s safety. It was now or never, and if the feelings were mutual between you and Ezra, then you refused to die without feeling him. Pushing your small excuse for a blanket back, you tip-toed across to Ezra’s bunk. He looked so peaceful, and you could see now his age, but it only made him more beautiful in your eyes. It was enough to almost change your mind. Almost.

You gently shook his shoulder. His mouth, which was slightly open in a quiet snore, quickly shut, eyes opening wide in slight panic.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you whispered, hand still on his shoulder.

Ezra glared up at you, sleep washing away from his eyes. “Okay?”

You hesitated. He kept staring in puzzlement until it finally clicked. Your flushed state, the embarrassment, chest heaving silently in eagerness. He grinned, opening his blanket to you.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered huskily.

You inhaled sharply before practically jumping onto the bunk. Your hands sat awkwardly between the both of you, now enclosed in his warmth.  

Ezra covered you both, arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him. You gasped, one hand on his covered chest and the other just under his chin. He brought a hand up to your face, brushing your hair way before cupping your cheek. Your lips were barely touching now and it was electric, breaths mixing together as you looked into his dark eyes; they were blown wide, and it only made you clench your thighs together for the friction you desperately craved.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” he said against your lips.

Such a foolish thing to say. You never wanted him to stop. He hadn’t even kissed you yet and you were already a puddle at his feet.

You answered with a clash of lips and teeth. Ezra had to hold back the groan that threatened to claw its way out, exhaling sharply through his nose instead. It had been a while for him as well.

His lips were better than you imagined. They were rough, slightly chapped, but somehow still soft all the same. You were convinced only Ezra could pull off such a distinctive and alluring spell with only the touch of his lips.

The hand that was wrapped around your waist slowly trailed down to your ass, groping it and kneading the flesh, earning a gasp from you; he took this opportunity to explore your mouth, both of you sighing at the taste of each other.

He slipped a thigh between your legs, bringing the other leg around his hip. You couldn’t help but to start grinding against his thigh, knuckles tightening around his arm as his lips trailed down your neck. You closed your eyes in bliss, his hand ghosting over the skin left uncovered by your shirt. Your stomach clenched, pulling back to pull the shirt over your head. Ezra looked at you in awe.

“Use me,” you whispered.

He gulped. It was all a blur, and suddenly he was on top of you, tearing down your pants and working on his. You shuddered at his thick girth, slapping against his stomach. You both looked over to Cee, still sleeping comfortably with her back turned as he pulled the blanket closer over the both of you, making sure to cover up your nakedness.

He kissed you again, palming your breast in one palm and tweaking your nipple in the other. Your back arched up into him, legs opening wider for him. His hips shifted against yours, the head of his cock brushing against your clit; Ezra had to bite back the moan, body shaking from restraint as he broke the kiss to look down.

“Please,” you begged. “Ezra.”

Ezra pressed his forehead against yours as he pushed into you. A moan would’ve escaped you if it hadn’t been for his lips. His breaths were shaky as he bottomed out, hips pressed firmly against yours. Your walls clenched from the fullness, making him close his eyes tightly and bury his face in your neck. The both of you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Shit,” he whispered in your ear.

He started to move once you shifted your hips up, starting as slow and quietly as he could. He felt divine inside you. You trailed kisses down his gorgeous neck, biting down softly when he hit your sweet spot. He gripped a handful of your hair, tightening his grip as he started to move a little faster. His mouth stayed firmly planted on your collarbone as your hands trailed up and down his back, feeling the muscles ripple with every thrust before finally settling in his hair and back.

In that moment there was nothing else in the world but you and Ezra. You would die a happy woman if it meant having this moment with him. In the short time you had known him you grew attached, which you realized this to be a dangerous thing.

Where he was hard and calloused, touched by the harsh years, you were soft, sweet. The combination only fueled the desire, the need for each other. Where he was fire, you were ice, forming together in perfect harmony and creating something terrifyingly beautiful.

It felt as though Ezra felt the same, because when he pulled his head back to kiss you as your orgasms started to peak, you felt all the words he couldn’t say bleed into you like pure air – nothing like the sterile, recycled oxygen you were so used to.

You feel so fucking good around me.

I’ve wanted you since day one.

We have to fight through this together.

I can’t let you die.

I won’t let you die.

Every molecule in your body sang with euphoria as your walls tightened around his cock. His thrusts had turned harder now, not enough for it to be loud, but enough to bring that delicious ache you know you’d be feeling for days. You bit down harshly on his shoulder as you came, nails digging into his back. Ezra gritted his teeth and dug his short nails into the tender skin of your thigh, releasing himself into you.

You didn’t let go of him as you tried to catch your breath. You looked over to see that Cee had turned a little but was still otherwise very asleep. Thank god she was a heavy sleeper.

Ezra kissed your forehead, nose, then lips before pulling out with a small hiss. You grabbed your shirt to put on, watching as he pulled his pants back up. He reached over you, fumbling underneath the bunk until he found what he was looking for. He gently cleaned you off with the cloth, throwing it back under and pulling you into his chest after helping you with your clothes.  

“I apologize,” he said after a few moments of silence.

You frowned. “For what?”

“For…” His eyes trailed down, and it took you a second before your eyebrows raised in understanding.

“It’s okay. I liked it.”

You felt the rumble of his small chuckle, smiling softly.

“I’ll remember that then, sweetheart.”

…

“Go!”

Ezra was bleeding from the stab wound in his abdomen, pushing you towards Cee. The whole thing had gone to shit. Bodies laid out around you, their blood seeping into the patchy ground. And now there were mercenaries after you and only one pod to your ticket home. It was so close, but Ezra was already pale from the blood loss and you couldn’t find your fucking kit and you were crying and you can’t lose him.

“Ezra,” your voice shook. “Come on.”

“I can’t,” he panted. “You need to go. Don’t die because of me. Take Cee and leave.”

Cee. You had to protect Cee. Your chin trembled. You pressed your helmet against his before whispering an apology.

Ezra watched as you grabbed Cee’s hand and ran. He closed his eyes, struggling for air. But, oddly enough, he was okay with his death. Because it was to protect you and Cee. He wasn’t the definition of noble or good by any means, had killed plenty of people himself just for the precious gems alone. He did what was necessary to live. But if he could do this one right thing, if he could die knowing you were alive and safe, then he could accept it with open arms.

He suddenly felt an intense pressure against his wound, eyes going wide and mouth opening in painful shock.

You sat over him, patching his stab wound to the best of your ability before looping his arm around your shoulders and yours around his waist.

“C’mon!” You grunted.

Ezra stood up, grunting at the pain but letting you carry him – as much as you could anyway, even dying he was still mindful – towards the pod. Cee helped you carry him in and closed the hatch.

You and Cee sighed in relief once the pod had successfully taken off. You made sure Ezra was patched up properly and relaxed as you sat down next to him. He looked at you in amazement, offering a gently smile in thanks.

You smiled back as you grabbed his hand, reaching to your right to hold on to Cee’s. A new sense of hope coursing through the three of you. You survived.

  Tags: @scarlett-berserker​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @outlawers​, @hejahockey​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi​, @evalynanne​, @purplewaterbird​, @angel-hunter-winchester​, @pascalisthepunkest​

#prospect ezra #prospect 2018 #pedro pascal #prospect cee #prospect ezra x reader #ezra x reader #sophie thatcher #akhfsdfjksdjfl

[hunnybadgerv]

"Warm water against sore muscles" for Rhys and Dorian for the DWC?

Finally! It only took me 6 months. Almost to the day. Apologies about that.

***

-1-

“One would think an archer wouldn’t end up with so many bruises. Aren’t you better from a distance?” Dorian teased.

Rhys reached up and grabbed Dorian’s neck, bring his face close enough for their noses to touch. “Of all people, you should know I can be equally as effective up close.”

The mage’s hand found Rhys’ wrist, giving it a squeeze as he tipped his head to kiss his lover gently. As the kiss broke, Dorian pressed his lips to the pulse point of Rhys’ wrist. “I’m well aware, Inquisitor.”

Without loosing Rhys’ hand, Dorian pressed another kiss to his temple. He could see the moment of fervor fade from Rhys as that little action freed the inquisitor from the need to the mighty hope of Thedas. An exhausted man sank back into the water, his hand still strongly grasping Dorian’s.

Taking up the cloth on the stool near him, Dorian dipped it in the water, squeezing out the excess. He rubbed the cloth against the bar of soap, one handed, because he refused to loose his lover’s hand. It was a small concession. One easily accomplished. With the cloth, he tackled the dirt clinging to Rhy’s long neck and ears.

“Your hair is getting a bit long on the sides,” Dorian announced.

Rhys only hummed incoherently as the mage pressed his fingers against the other man’s scalp amidst the bubbles of a thick lather.

“I will trim the sides for you,” he teased.

The bathing man’s body shook with laughter. “Will you?” he teased, peeking over his shoulder at Dorian.

He gestured at himself. “I’m well practiced in the use of a razor, I’ll have you know.”

“That you are, dearest, but as I recall the last time you attempted to translate those skills to me, I had to shave my entire head again.”

“You were being over dramatic,” Dorian replied haughtily.

Rhys grinned and stared at him with a challenging look. The mage grabbed the wrapped handle of the copper bucket and poured it over Rhys’ head without warning. His laughter echoed in the small room, warming Dorian’s heart anew. Rhys flipped his head, sending a trail of water around the room and drenching the mage’s blouse.

Leaning back in the water, Trevelyan’s gaze moved over his lover. “Told you that shirt would be nothing but trouble.”

“You’re just a randy cur,” Dorian replied. “Sit up.”

“While that maybe true,” Rhys agreed, sitting forward, “it doesn’t change the fact that you are beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Another relaxed rumble of glee wandered through Rhys and spread into the room. “Oh, I know how untrue that statement is. Would you care for me to demonstrate it again?”

The corner of Dorian’s mouth twitched as the memory of that night flooded his mind. He certainly wouldn’t turn down the chance to be worshipped like that again. “You’ve been on the road for weeks, picking fights with Maker knows what. And we both know that the energy you’re feeling right now will fade as soon as you climb out of this water. So, let me bathe you. Then we’ll see what happens.”

With a sigh that sounded like it was relieved, Rhys leaned more heavily against his knees. Dorian knew that the inquisitor was well-versed in pleasure—in and beyond the bedroom—he’d seen many of the masks that Rhys donned for different purposes and perrsonages. He knew very well, that the randy cad was just one of the many roles that Rhys was capabale of adopting, often without even realizing it. Dorian also knew that he was one of the few that got to see the masks fall away utterly, but those times were incredibly rare and most often occurred when Rhys’ exhaustion or frustration piqued to inhuman proportions.

Discarding the cloth, Dorian pressed his soapy hands over Rhys’ bare back, kneading at tight and tired muscles. As an archer, his back, shoulders, and chest were the most taxed in combat, which was way Dorian concentrated his attention there until he felt some of the tension ease. He could never work all of it out; the younger man’s stress level was unnaturally high. Carrying the hopes of tens of thousands of people could have that effect on a person, especially when that person never asked for any of it.

Taking up another pitcher, Dorian poured the hot water in a slow stream that chased away the suds and grime in rivulets that ran over and between thick rope-like muscles. He pressed his free hand over the tawny flesh helping spread the ease and effect of the water. Rhys’ head dropped against the arms propped on his knees and a loan moan carried through the room.

“Lean back,” Dorian all but whispered.  The inquisitor complied. Pressing his hand over Rhys’ shoulder, Dorian set down the pitcher, grabbed the bar of soap, and moved closer again. His embrace allowed Rhys to rest his head back against the mage’s shoulder, which he did. Lathering his hands again, Dorian pressed them over the inquisitor’s chest in delicate caresses interspersed with kneading gropes. Rhys’ hand guided Dorian’s mouth to his own, teasing his lips with tender kisses.

The mage didn’t pull away from either duty—kissing the man in his arms delicately as he pressed his hands over his muscular torso. The softness of Rhys’ kisses were honest. There was no guile in them.

-2-

Rhys felt guilty for just lying there as they kissed, savoring the feel of Dorian’s hands on his body, chasing away the sand, grime, and tension. But his lover was right, he was exhausted to his very marrow. It was the kind of exhaustion that only faded, never completely leaving him. He was all but certain that feeling would not leave him until they were able to completely close the tear in the sky, which none of them were sure was even possible.

Licking at Dorian’s lips, Rhys tried to blank those thoughts and uncertainties from his mind. This was not the place for that; not the time, he told himself.

He groaned, low and deep, as Dorian’s hands pressed down over his abs. A part of him wished they might sink lower, but the didn’t. If he were honest with himself, he probably couldn’t please Dorian in his current state no matter how he might wish to do so. The kisses ended far too soon for Rhys’ tastes. But the sensation of the hot water enveloping him lilke a second skin soothed, not only the sore muscles in his body, but also served as a balm to his tired mind and soul. The slow stream of it rinsed away so much more than soap and dust.

Dorian slipped out of his physical grasp, tending to his legs, even massaging his feet. It was the kind of pampering that ignited his guilt. Dorian might have been physically safer here, but that just left him to the torment of worry and imagination. Rhys’ lips tightened with the realization, but he couldn’t reconcile it still—his desire to keep Dorian safe and wanting him at his side at all times.

“I love you,” he said in a rush of thought.

A smile curved Dorian’s mouth. “And I you.” Lowering Rhys’ foot back into the water, Dorian moved closer, looming over him before he pressed a kiss to the inquisitor’s forehead, then to his lips. The kiss remained gentle even as it deepened, as if either of them could communicate the depth of their feelings for one another in that simple exchange.

Rhys’ gasp of surprise broke the kiss and brought his gaze back to Dorian’s. The mischeivous grin on the mage’s face told all. His hand stroked the length of Rhys’ shaft, and while desired stirred beneath the touch it did not rage. Exhaustion placed a limit on the ranger’s desire for performance.

“Come,” Dorian whispered against Rhys’ mouth. “The water is starting to chill.” His kiss, equal parts inticing and gentle, pulled Rhys to his feet.

Again, his lover’s hands were all over him, guiding the drying cloth over his tired frame in a languid way that went far beyond utility. Once Dorian was satisfied that not a single stray drop of water remained, he took his lover’s hand and led him to the massive bed with the fluffy mattress that cradled the body. Pulling back the sheets, he looked over at Rhys. “In.”

The simple order earned a laugh from the inquisitor, who complied. “You know I can’t sleep worth a damn alone,” Trvelyan argued. The embrace of the mattress and the pillow proved more than his tired body could fight at the moment. But he needed Dorian in his arms.

“I do.”

Rhys watched as Dorian stripped out of his clothing and rounded the bed. Crawling in from the other side, he closed the distance between them. Lazy kisses traded between them, until Dorian rested his head against Rhys’ chest, giving him leave to fall asleep. Even so, he fought it off for a bit. His fingers traced lines along Dorian’s back and neck. At the edge of sleep, hallucination took over. This moment right here, this could be their life … together.

A smile pulled at Rhys’ lips as consciuosness finally slipped from his grasp entirely, guiding him into a most tempting and tame dream.

#DADWC #Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle #Rhys Trevelyan #Dorian Pavus #Fluff #Badger Scribbles #midnightprelude

[stranded-warriors]

 The druddigon's unconscious body laid before the Fighter, who without a moment to spare wrapped their large hands under the fellow’s shoulders and unceremoniously dragged him behind one of the thousand stacks, where he was dropped to the ground then laid against the wall like some plaything. Immediately Feraligatr padded down the fellow’s clothes, checked pockets, and searched everything shy of somehow turning the poor fellow inside out. A minute or two passed without much, but when Kaz stopped to see if they weren’t pummeling the poor fellow, Feraligatr stood up and handed him something small but heavy.

 This something was a flat stone object, as thing and as broad as it could possibly be without it becoming brittle. On one side was an emblem of two ornate spears crossed over a spherical object, and on the other side were rows of scratchy writing with a series of hieroglyphs in the bottom right. Although a clear amount of work had to be put into carving into such a frail object, the text was borderline illegible. Nobody, not even the best scholars in Kaz's homeland were mad enough to comprehend the text, but the more he stared at how each line had been arranged Kaz was able to make some sense of it.

 “If I'm expected to read this, I can't.” he admitted, “However, what I can do is make a fair guess: believe this here is a piece of identification, it may not have the dragon’s name on it, but I am going to assume it was his. He won’t be needing it anymore.”

 Kaz looked towards his friend, which judging by the long look strewn over their face they hadn't found what they were looking for. It would've been a fair idea to ask what, but provided they went around beating up more innocent dock workers they’ll be sure to stumble onto whatever it is they needed. Then Kaz looked back at himself, then back at Feraligatr, and after a minute of awkwardly shifting in place waiting for Feraligatr to signal they should better get a move on, tossed the stone back to them. He had thought of a plan.

 “One of us is covered in scales, and I am as pale as the moon. Since this direct approach had only painted our – mostly your hands in blood, I have a suggestion if you're so inclined.”

 They nodded.

 “We know there’s a checkpoint just down the way, and if all they are looking for is a piece of identification we might be able to slip past the guards provided we keep our cool.” he looked behind the corner where the Druddigon laid on the floor like a sack of dirt, “I can’t imagine they would let us pass if they saw what you did to that fellow, so we’d better act fast.”

 Feraligatr tapped the stone then pointed at themselves

 “Yes, you’ll be going first. You needn't tell me your much of a talker, I think you've established that fairly well, but whereas I know you’re not a dragon, compared to me you sure look the part. I don’t want them to be asking too many questions, and seeing a psychic type where he has no right to be raises too many on its own.”

 “Unless you have any objections my friend, then lead the way.”

>This plan is stupid

>You could come up with a better plan if you had time and the confidence, but without a weapon in your you lack the latter and can't buy the former.

>It must be the best Kaz can do.

 The fact Feraligatr was just stood there for a while had been a bit worrying, but Kaz breathed a sigh of  relief once they got the move on. The continuous roar of machinery they had come to tune out grew louder and louder as the stepped further away from the walls of cargo, and by time they stepped free from the maze they laid eyes on what was making all that ruckus. Within a clearing toward the gates stands a massive, crane-like machine operated by a dozen pulleys straining and squealing under the might of its deafened operators. Dozens of burly pokemon stood before a large tower, pulling massive ropes which all fed into an over-sized wheel, then all the way out into the docks where a harpoon big enough to catch three waillords was speared into the rock they came in on. On the other side of the dock was another machine operated by another army of mons, their collective strength coming together to slightly nudge the colossal boulder in the right direction. A feat of ingenuity; a testament to Palkia's brute strength.

 A few surveyor, and the flyers who they previously saw offloading the valuables from the rock onto shore and into these crates the former presided over, were the only people paying mind to the two strangers strolling by; however, none of them cared enough to go out of their busy day to bother them. Which was odd, considering the first person they met from here wanting nothing less than to ruin their lives. Perhaps the ones pulling the machines were slave laborers, but they too couldn't care any less  about the adventurers. If these workers weren't a problem, then it was bound to be something else.

-

 Two small structures spaced evenly apart lied at the end of the road. The distance between these two cabins were barely enough to fill two single-file lines, anyone who tried circumventing the check-point would come face first with heavy crystal bars stretching all the way down from the archway above.

 “It seems we’ve come at the worst and best of times, friend.” he tapped his friend’s back and murmured, “If they ask why you’re leaving between shifts, just say you’ve gotten ill. It usually works for me.”

 Feraligatr’s blank stare didn’t inspire much confidence in Kaz’s plan, but they were going to with it – they came this far anyways. Taking a wild guess they began walking towards the right booth, gripping the stone tightly in their claws. Inside it they saw stacks of stone plates, behind which was fraxure who had to be no less than a foot shorter than the water-type. The pokemon held their stubby hand open, and Feraligatr dropped the stone in their hands. In the dim candlelight they put their eyes up against the stone, flipping it over, scanning it for a dozen times, before finally saying something about it.

 Maybe Feraligatr’s blue and red scales were similar to the worker, but nothing about what they wore fit a part of someone who spent their time lugging boxes around. A person doesn’t simply go out to their job wearing full plate mail, a face mask, and a black hood unless they had something to prove. Feraligatr did have something to prove, but it wasn’t for this little runt.

 “It seems like today's going to be a good day.” the guard smiled as he began to fumble behind his desk, “The old geezer finally got what was coming for him!”

 Feraligatr queued their friend over, and Kaz was quietly made his way in line till he stopped shy of the  windowframe. The Fraxure didn’t notice the shuffling until he poked his head up, saw Kaz, sighed and put his head back under his desk. A minute later the dragon rose again, slapping down blank slabs exactly like the one they plucked off the Druddigon.

 “Oh, no.” Kaz interjected, “I'm simply the doctor they had check the body. Should it satisfy you, I'll have you know the old man had become truly unsightly.”

 The Fraxure quietly stowed a slab away.

 “Where's he now?”

 “Back where I had found them. I was told to leave the body the way it was so the just authority can handle it from there. My friend here was the first to find him, and needless to say they’re not feeling too well.” he leaned in like Feraligatr couldn't somehow hear him, “My friend quite hasn't the stomach for this as you and I.”

 Not a second afterwards the voice of Kaz rang inside Feraligatr’s head, “Look as though you hate everything about everything right now.” and Feraligatr’s blank stare warped into the most glower look of disgust imaginable. Their face melted into this horrible, glowering frown, and their teeth sagged out from their gums like furs on a wet, stray dog. Fraxure took a single look at the fighter only to pull away immediately, then slowly put the other slab with the rest of them.

 “I'll process you some other time,” he groaned, “get out of my face before your friend pukes all over my desk.”

 “My thanks. I'm sure the old man left doing what loved best.”

 Out of the all the lies Kaz just said, that last had stung the worst. The horrible feeling he suddenly had gotten in his gut was only made better by the knowledge that he, and his friend had gotten away with his hobbled-together plan.

#/ plottag #/ Wizard #/ Fighter #/- Yeah it's been a bit. School got in the way.

[ultinath]

Octavia 1: how do you make hypnosis look so easy?

The soft lighting up against the vaulted ceiling made the dungeon look cosy. Quiet music could be heard whenever the whips and floggers paused or were put down. Someone in the room moaned and gasped. 

Dan adjusted his elegant black stetson and smiled in the general direction of the moaning sound. He wore a black button down shirt with dark red and blue flowers on it, and he seemed content to be just standing at the bar with a drink. 

Anton was almost two feet taller than Dan and was dressed in a plain white shirt that stretched too tightly across his chest, and jaunty purple striped slacks with matching suspenders. He seemed to be looking around the room, as if he was nervous for someone to arrive. "What time is it?" He asked Dan.

Dan produced a shiny silver pocketwatch and flipped it open. "Quarter past." He patted Anton on the muscular arm. "Don't sweat it."

Anton hung his head and stared into his drink. "I know, I know…"

Khalid came swaggering over from the other side of the dungeon in his tan suit. His dark green bow tie hung undone around his neck and he was smiling as he carelessly carried a bag with a number of coils of rope visible inside it. "My dudes!" He greeted them. "What's happening?"

Dan tipped his hat. "We're just waiting."

Khalid laid the bag on a chair and reached over the bar to pour himself a glass of water. "For?"

"Octavia…" Anton inhaled deeply and looked around the room again.

Khalid gently shook his head. "A lady worth waiting for. Mind if I join you?"

"She's amazing, isn't she?" Dan gave Khalid a smile.

Khalid twirled the tip of his moustache. "Tell me something, Dan."

Dan perked up and blinked at him with his big, brown eyes. 

"When she took your hat and dropped you in front of everyone, was that rehearsed in any way? Was it a hypnotic trigger?" 

Dan bowed his head and sighed. "No. That's just how well she knows how to handle me."

"Impressive…" Khalid sipped his water. "Do you know if she's going to give more classes?"

His question hung unanswered in the air, because Anton jumped for a second, and then tried to compose himself quickly. "There is she is!"

All three men turned to look towards the entrance, where a lady in a floorlength deep turquoise gown had appeared. She paused there for a second to take in the room, and then strode in a straight line towards them. Frozen like a deer in headlights, Anton wiped some sweat off his brow, while Khalid and Dan followed her with their eyes in a more calm manner.

Dan closed his eyes for a moment and bowed his head. "Good evening, My Lady."

Octavia held out her hand to him, and he gratefully leaned in to kiss it. She looked at Anton and Khalid in turn as she folded her hands together. "Gentlemen. How is the party?"

Anton smiled as he stared into her eyes. "Better now…"

She grinned at him. "Patience, big man. Patience."

"Can I pick your brain about something, Octavia?" Khalid asked as he put down his glass. "If you're not busy?"

"I have time." She smiled at Anton.

He swallowed and folded his massive hands behind his back, as if standing to attention.

She turned to Dan. "I'd like a glass of water."

Dan trotted off behind the bar to pour her a glass of water and bring it to her.

"What's on your mind, Khalid?" Octavia asked as she sipped her water.

"Hypnosis seems like such a complicated process when you first learn it." His eyes examined Dan and Octavia in turn. "I feel like I've only just scratched the surface, but all the ways to hypnotise a person seem to take a lot of time and effort. Yet you make it look so quick and easy. So how does that work?"

Octavia shook her head. "When I started out as a hypnotist, I started with the Elman induction, just like you. And the progressive relaxation induction. They are as good a place to start as any." She drained the glass of water and held it out in front of her.

Dan took the glass from her and brought it back to the sink behind the bar. As he returned to his place by her side, Anton and Khalid were both staring at him.

"That was not hypnosis, was it?" Octavia smiled mysteriously. "Nor did I tell him what to do, did I?"

Khalid frowned. "No. But what does that have to do with it?"

Octavia held up one finger, as if she was asking him to wait. She turned to Dan and took the hat off his head. Dan's eyes sparkled with anticipation, as Octavia handed the hat to Anton. "Can you hold onto this for a second?"

Anton nodded silently and carefully took the hat into his hands. His eyes were wide and there was a sheen of sweat on his shaved head.

Khalid and Anton both gasped when Octavia grasped Dan by the hair on the back of his head. Dan's arms hung limp at his sides as his eyes and mouth opened. She pulled his head back and up slightly until his legs were trembling. "Pay attention, love. Focus on me. Focus. And freeze now." She let go of him, gently laying her hands on his shoulders. The trembling stopped. The eyes remained open but the mouth closed. Dan stood there, motionless and frozen in place.

Octavia turned to Khalid with a smile. "Just like with the glass, I never told him what to do, nor did I prepare this. He just knows me. He knows what I like to do with him. He infers from the context what is expected of him, and he obeys to the best of his abilities, because I have never given him a reason not to obey me, and I have always rewarded him for his obedience."

Khalid nodded slowly, awestruck.

Anton stepped closer and waved the hat in front of Dan's glassy blank eyes. No reaction. "Fffuck…" He shot Octavia a look full of amazement.

She held his gaze for a moment. "I'm not saying I can do this to you immediately. Dan is a very experienced sub. But many things are possible."

Anton swallowed and slunk backward against the bar.

As Khalid opened his mouth to speak, Octavia held up one finger again. "Give me just one moment, will you?"

She turned back to Dan and took his face into both her hands. "Look at me, love. Focus on me. Come back. You did so well."

A shiver ran through Dan and he closed his eyes, resting his chin in Octavia's hands. "Thank you, My Lady."

She ran her fingers through his beard for a second and then stepped back to give him more space. "Maybe you should have a glass of water."

Dan nodded and went around the bar to pour himself some water. 

Octavia turned back to Khalid. "As I said, Dan is very experienced. If he feels like I am asking him to go into a hypnotic trance, he will. He has done it many times, so he knows how it works. No fancy words necessary. Clear intention is enough."

Khalid seemed to be thinking. "But if that's true, then why learn hypnotic techniques at all? Why not focus on communicating that intention more directly instead of by asking them to open and close their eyes and say convoluted Ericksonian shit to them?"

Octavia smiled and turned her head to Dan. "Give me your watch for a moment."

Dan gulped down the glass of water and hurried over to hand her his shiny, silver pocketwatch. She thanked him and he quietly stood at her side, waiting.

Octavia took the chain in her hand and let the watch dangle down as she lifted her arm up into the air. "Indulge me for a moment, Anton."

The big man's shouders tensed visibly under his shirt and suspenders. "Me?"

"Yes. If you will. Just look at the watch." She swung it back and forth in front of his face and he apprehensively followed it with his eyes. In silence. Octavia didn't say another word, and after a few moments, pearly drops of sweat rolled down Anton's face. He awkwardly loomed towards the watch, being much taller than Octavia, and desperately tried to follow it with his eyes, but it swung too fast for him, it seemed.

"I'm sorry... " He cringed and hung his head. "I don't think it's working."

She patted him on the arm. "Of course it isn't. You don't know what to do. And I didn't tell you. I didn't use any of the hypnotic techniques or gave you any instructions to follow. I only communicated my intent to hypnotise." With a grin, she pointed with her thumb at Dan, who was swaying on his feet, his eyes focused on the watch, just as blankly as when he was frozen.

Khalid started to slowly clap his hands. "Bravo. Bravo, my lady."

She shook her head at him as she lowered the watch. "You don't get to call me that." And then she took the hat from Anton and tenderly placed it back on Dan's head. "Thank you, love. You did so well."

Dan snapped back to reality and after a moment of confusion, he nodded at her with a smile. She gave him back his watch, which he put into his pocket.

Anton let out a long sigh of relief and wiped his forehead.

"My apologies…" Khalid mumbled.

"It's quite alright. I can see how it can be tempting to use the same words as someone else is using. But these are not just words." Octavia crossed her arms.

Khalid nodded and lowered his eyes. "No, I get it. I didn't mean to overstep."

"The same goes for you, big man." Octavia said to Anton. "I am not your lady. I'm just a friendly hypnoDom showing you a good time."

Anton nodded and stood to attention again. "I understand."

Khalid seemed to think for a moment. "So, if I understand you correctly, Octavia, the hypnotic techniques exist for both the hypnotist and the subject, to help them both complete the process. And once both are sufficiently experienced, they can be dispensed with?"

"Not dispensed with," Octavia explained. "They exist because they work. These are proven methods you can use to induce hypnotic trance and create hypnotic effects, even if you are inexperienced at hypnosis. When Dan and I are together, sometimes I will use something technical, because it is the most appropriate method for that situation. It's just that the showy stuff doesn't actually require much skill."

She walked up to Khalid, who was still looking thoughtful, and laid her hand on his shoulder. "There are no shortcuts. But once you find someone you love to practice with, it becomes less of a chore. With regular practice, it takes only a few months to become good. Just like with rope. Mind you, that goes for both partners."

He nodded. "That makes sense."

"Perhaps Dan would like to practice with you and give you some pointers?" Octavia turned to look at Dan.

He blinked for a moment. "I mean, if Khalid would like that, then yes."

Khalid walked up to Dan. "Do you think you could pay attention to the moments when I trip up and help me correct it?"

Dan nodded. "Yes. No problem."

The two men started to chat about hypnosis things they could try together, and Octavia stepped up to Anton and touched his chest.

"It's time, big man." She smiled at him and beckoned him with a small movement of her head.

Anton swallowed again and touched her hand. "Octavia… What if I can't do this?" He hung his head. "What if I'm not smart enough? What if I'm just too ADHD to go into trance? What if I'm just too nervous?"

Her hand reached up to touch his chin and make him look her in the eye. "Do you trust me? Do you want me to hypnotise you?"

A sigh. "Yes, please, Octavia."

"Then I will make sure that we will succeed. I will find ways to help you go into trance for me. I will give you all the instructions. All you need to do is follow me." With a smile, she took his hand and led him away from the bar. 

Anton looked back at the other two as she led him away, and they both gave him looks of approbation. It seemed to settle his nerves and he followed Octavia out of the room, grinning with anticipation.

--

Dear reader, did you like this story? This is the first of a series. Feel free to leave questions here that you would like to ask Octavia if you ran into her in the dungeon, or if you went to one of her classes. And perhaps in the next installment of the Octavia series, she will answer your question.

[cliban]

Gaming

So uh. These are 3 (or 4) of my online gaming personas. (https://www.deviantart.com/bellae99/art/The-girls-and-Pyre-805308350) I've been writing this for a while, may have a part 2 soon!

So little bit of backstory here, I used to, I guess, it could be classified as RPing by myself, giving these characters personality, instead of being a blank slate for what I do. It’s also with my favourite games to play there too!

Clea slowed as the gates clanged shut and cursed, the world censoring her by itself. The path was gravelly and provided no clues as to what lay in the darkness beside it. This was not a good thing. Clea jumped off of Xena and stood with her. Hands on her hips, she whistled into the darkness. Nobody else was there. She swallowed and then she felt a hand on her shoulder and was too late to stop the bejewelled hammer from swinging into her face. She sprawled onto the ground and Xena stood over her protectively. Then Xena was thrown aside and Clea cried out as she hit the wall, both of them. The beast looked down at them with a leering grin, tied a rope to them, and started to drag them away.

Elliott slapped the zombie in the face so hard it lost too much HP, turned red, and keeled over. It split into two hunks of rotten flesh and three orbs of XP. Elliott picked up the rotten flesh and absorbed the XP, then turned and walked into the castle. “M’lord. Gotcha your items.” She reached into her inventory and pulled out the items of value. “Hey! You gonna open the door?” She grew impatient and kicked the door open. “Right, here you go, and I’ll take my reward and go.” The King chuckled. “No, I don’t think you will.” Elliott reached behind her and shifted her sword onto her belt. This goddamn dress was getting annoying. She pulled up her mask and vines started to creep around her arms. “I’m sorry?” Her voice was hardly muffled. “You see, you have quite a large bounty on your head. Much more that some blaze rods.” Elliott nodded. “I see. So this is the part where you spring your trap?” The King smirked. “Go. Kill her.” Elliott rolled her eyes and whipped her bow around, pointing it into the face of one of her attackers. She released an arrow and then there were hands on her shoulders and everything went black.

Pyre shifted uncomfortably in her suit. She adjusted her hat and flicked her ears once to make sure they still worked. Stalker wasn’t at this playtime. So she took the role. “Hey, Pyro. You ok?” Pyre yelped and spun round. It was Engie. “Oh. Just you,” she said. Although, of course, it didn’t come out like that. It was muffled to almost the point of just being noise. Engie could understand. Scout couldn’t. But Scout was annoying. Engie flipped his chocolate bar in his hands. “Why, did I scare ya?” Pyre snorted. “Of course not. You ready for today?” Engie nodded. “D’ya think we can’t sc- I mean, be nice to a couple o’ BLUs?” Pyre shrugged. “Well. I’m going. Come on, Engie.” Pyre was distracted by a couple of birds flying past, and then there was a choking sound from behind her. She turned back to see someone hugging Engie. But Engie didn’t seem to be too happy about that. She frowned and yanked the other person back. Engie fell to his knees, rubbing his throat. “Engie! Are you ok?” Pyre asked worriedly. He looked up and his eyes flickered behind her and he croaked “Look out,” but it was too late and something cracked across her head.

Clea blinked her eyes open. Everything was… Fuzzy. Then she realised she was in a room that was not one she recognised. It was small, with a table, and a computer. Pure white walls. A vent at the very bottom. A wooden door. She lifted her head and sat up against the wall. Xena was nowhere to be seen. Clea brushed her straw-blond hair out of her eyes and pulled her hood up. It was a forest green with yellow piping, and had a purple helm that went over her eyes, yet she could see through it. The wings on it fluttered weakly. Then she stood up, unfolding her jean-clad legs and pulling her aqua shirt up. 

Instructions flashed in front of Clea, and she read quickly. Hack all five computers, and don’t let the beast catch you. Easy enough. She tiptoed to the first computer and began to hack it. 

Three minutes later, the computer’s screen turned green and Clea crawled out through the vent onto carpeted floor. It felt like an office, this maze of white walls and blue floor. The door beside her burst open and Clea flattened herself behind it. Xena stepped into the hallway. She was in human form. “Xena,” Clea whispered. “Xena!” The rhino-girl whipped her head around and saw Clea. “I’ve hacked one computer,” she said quietly. “And I think the beast is coming.” She pushed Clea to the other end of the hall and started running as a glow came up from behind them. “Go!” She yelped and darted off in the opposite direction. Clea hid in a locker and watched the beast look around. A chill ran down her spine and the beast moved on. 

Clea darted into the next computer room and started to hack it. It was relatively simple. Just open up the code database, and disable security systems from there. Easy! Just took a little breaking into. Clea grinned as the computer’s screen started glowing a bright green, and jumped through a smashed window into the beast. “Oh.” 

She started running, hearing pounding footsteps behind her. The beast swung, clipping Clea’s leg. She fell, started dragging her leg behind her, fingers sinking into the carpet while her leg recovered. Her leg twisted the right way and she sprang to her feet, started sprinting. She could hear the beast behind her, and sweat trailed it’s way down her forehead. She was pretty doomed.

And then she got lucky. The beast reached for her, put on a burst of speed, and Clea jumped up, up, and to the side. The beast overshot and Clea swung into a room. She pushed her visor up and flicked her blonde hair to the side, then slid her visor back on. The beast went to the window and she rolled under it until the glow that signified the beast’s gem went away and she crawled out through a vent. 

Xena had hacked one computer since she’d split with Clea, and they met up in the bathrooms. “Let’s look for one together, OK?” Clea whispered, and Xena nodded. They peeked out of the door, and saw no beast. Quietly, the two walked towards the centre of the facility. There were several cubicles in the rectangular room, each with a wall of glass and a desk in it. The room’s flooring was metallic, and in the long gap that stretched from door to door, a spiralling staircase led to the second floor. Xena and Clea ran up this staircase now, and spied a computer in the corner. 

Xena kept watch while Clea frantically tapped at the buttons, bringing up pages and tabs of coding. She stuck her tongue out in concentration, and while Xena couldn’t see her eyes because of her visor, Xena knew Clea must have them narrowed in concentration. Xena held up a hand to shield her purple eyes, and jumped in alarm as she saw the glow of the beast. “Clea, beast is here.” Clea grunted and pressed enter. The screen turned green and Xena morphed back into her natural form. “Let’s go Xena.”

Xena scrambled down the stairs, and Clea jumped off the balcony, and landed on Xena’s back. They galloped out of the room, beast trailing after them, and headed for the door out. “Hold on!” Xena rammed the door, once, twice, three times, and it burst open. They ran out into the cool night, and Clea jumped off, hands on her knees once she landed. “We’re out! Let’s get back home.”

Clea leaned on Xena, who affectionately nuzzled her. “Not so fast.” Clea jumped, and reached for her gun, which wasn’t there, of course. “Hands in the air.” Glowering, Clea raised her hands slowly as three police emerged out of the darkness. “You’re under arrest for multiple counts of murder.” Clea’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s the beast you’re talking about.” The policeman who was talking to her scoffed. “No-one makes it out of there alive. You’re coming with us.” 

Someone grabbed her hands and shoved them behind her back, and she snarled. “Xena, don’t you dare gore him,” she warned, and then she felt cold metal across her wrists. Her hackles raised but she forced herself not to attack. “No shoving, Ok? Not comfortable with that.” She was led across to their van, and had just enough time to smile at Xena before the van slammed shut.

Elliott stumbled. “Thanks, Sen.” Sen took his hands off Elliott’s shoulders and stepped back. Elliott slung her bow across her back again and looked around. They were at her base, a three block high cave with seventeen rooms. It was built into the side of a mountain, with her and Sen labouring over a few weeks to carve the place out. They were in the entrance, with a five block wide waterfall covering the open end. Sen looked at the water and growled something. “Yeah yeah Sen. You don’t like water. I don’t think any enderman does.”

Tall and lanky, Sen towered over Elliott, who came up to his shoulder at most. They had met when Sen had been caught out in a rainstorm, and Elliott had taken him to her temporary residence in a village, giving him time to recover and be able to teleport. He looked essentially the same as any other enderman, save the odd purple spirals on his shoulders. Now they were inseparable, and went on many adventures together. 

“Right, I’m heading in. I still have the blaze rods, and plus, the mobs need feeding.” Sen nodded, and teleported to the farm, which floated above their mountain. He was off to get whatever crops had grown. Elliott yawned and headed down into the wide corridor, which gradually got higher and higher until it opened into the minecart terminal.

Elliott grabbed a minecart and zoomed down to the mob area, and surveyed the scene. The farm animals were sectioned off, and into their separate species when inside. Currently, however, they were outside, grazing. Elliott had other game on her mind. She hitched up her dress and stepped out of the minecart, and grabbed her fire-resistant diamond armour, complete with shield and her beloved diamond sword, Cleaver. She changed from her dress into that, and rolled her shoulders.

Elliott pulled her mask up and walked purposefully to the over world monsters. This was in a glass dome inside a massive cave. She took a deep breath, and opened the iron door. They currently housed eleven zombies, seven skeletons, four creepers, three phantoms, fourteen silverfish, and nine spiders, plus cave spiders of the same number. 

“Everyone! Any sick or injured?” The dome went silent, and two of the phantoms dived down, carrying the third. Most of the mobs were actually able to communicate. Elliott had that gift. “Do you know what happened?” The phantoms growled a negative. “Ok. I’m letting everyone roam the caves, you know the rules.” Elliott picked up the injured phantom and carried it on her back while she exited the dome.

She retracted the glass and the over world monsters started walking, flying, stumbling, or crawling, out of their normal habitat. Elliott whistled and started walking to the minecarts. She felt the phantom flop a little, and sped up. She gently laid the phantom down and jumped into the minecart behind it. 

They sped off to the small clinic Elliott had set up, and rolled gently to a stop just outside. Elliott stepped out and lifted the phantom. She transferred it inside, and all of a sudden Sen teleported in, growling rapidly. “Humans. Outside.” Elliott’s eyes widened and she gently set the phantom down, then ran outside, jumped, and Sen teleported her to the control room. “Attention! All mobs, return to your designated areas. I repeat, return to your designated areas!” She yelled through her microphone. There was a sudden flood of animals and monsters stampeding into their areas. 

Elliott activated everything, and slammed the doors of the mountains closed. She turned to Sen, and squeezed his hand. “We’ll be alright Sen, don’t you worry. Armour up.” Sen looked at her solemnly, and teleported, returning a moment later in full diamond armour. They left Joey, a blaze, in charge, and teleported to the entrance of the cave. 

Elliott took a deep breath, and jumped through the waterfall, letting her elytra carry her safely to the ground. She landed elegantly, and let the vines crawl around her arms to her wrists. There was a party of fifteen, and she raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?” Sen teleported in by her side. 

The leader of the group raised a shaking sword. “Look, if you’re here to capture me, don’t bother.” She stuck a dagger into the person trying to creep up behind her without turning around. The group gasped. “Ah now lads, she’s not that dangerous.”

The group parted to reveal a figure in shining diamond armour. “Will. Will Will Will. What do we have here? William.” Elliott deliberately made her voice as mocking as possible. Will strode forward. “We’ve found you. There’s no running from us now.”

Elliott snorted, and as the group ran forward, they attacked. Sen teleported two into the the air and dropped them, then down again to smack some in the face. Elliott slashed with her sword, kicking anyone who came too close to her. Hearts were lost, and finally it was Will and Elliott standing off. Sen was finishing off two of them. 

“It’s over, Will. Rory may have given you my location, but Sen and I are always together.” Will gave her a dashing wink. “Fear not, for I have a solution.” He pulled a squirming endermite out of his pocket and threw it at Sen. Elliott frowned, and then the endermite bit down on Sen’s skin and his teleportation particles turned red, along with the spirals on his shoulders and his eyes. “He’ll be a fine addition to the army.”

Will poured a bucket of water on the ground, and whistled. Sen began shambling over to it. Elliott’s eyes widened and she tackled Will. “Kill me, and Sen stands in the water.” Elliott backed off and started to head over to Sen, when Will made his offer. “Come with me and I’ll call off the Endercution.” 

Elliott swallowed, looked at Sen, and raised her hands slowly. Will whistled again and bound her hands behind her back, using a splash potion of slowness, just for good measure. He wrapped an arm around Elliott’s waist despite her protests. Then he grabbed an ender pearl, and ignoring Sen’s horrified warbling, threw it, and they teleported to the city.

Pyre collapsed to its knees and glared at whoever had hit it, confused. “Hey! You ok? Do you need something?” Pyre got up, flicking its tail, and approached the person, cautiously. It had an idea, reached behind it.

And brought out its axe. Engie winced as it approached the terrified assassin menacingly. It held out the axe and tapped the poor man’s shoulder with the flat of the blade, then nodded, satisfied. It lifted the axe and swung.

Pyre handed the lollipop to the guy and he smiled and waved. Pleased, Pyre waved back, and the guy laughed and flew away. Pyre turned back to Engie and helped him up.

Engie winced at the blood splatter and gore in the doorway, and let Pyro help him up. “Who was that?” Mmph. “I don’t know either.” Pyro waved at him and went to go get someone. 

Pyre bounced happily through the halls, swinging its arms. Scout stepped out in front of it and it skidded to a stop to avoid collision. “Oh! Hey dere Pyro, uh, watcha doin’ this earlyyy…..” Scout looked Pyre up and down. “Pyro, who did ya help?” Pyre shrugged.

Scout looked Pyro up and down in horror. Its suit was splattered with blood and fragments of bone, and its goggles had bloodstains on them. “Pyro, who did ya kill?” Pyro stood still, then shrugged slightly. “Well, go clean yaself up then!” Scout turned and marched briskly away, muttering under his breath.

Confused by the interaction, Pyre looked down at its suit. Silly Scout, getting all antsy about rainbows. It walked on.

Medic had just finished dissecting a heart, courtesy of Stalker, when Pyro walked into his lab. He clicked his tongue in displeasure and put the heart down. “Yes, Pyro, what iz it?” 

Medic had been busy with his odd flower-growing project when Pyre opened the door. He had rainbows all over his hands. “Sorry Medic! I was just coming to tell you that Engie doesn’t look at all well.” Pyre clasped its hands behind its back. 

Medic frowned, silently deciphering the mumbles of that creature. “Oh. Vell, I shall be back just now.” He grabbed his medigun and started to follow Pyro through the maze of twisting hallways.

Pleased, Pyre led Medic back to its room. Engie was still there, coughing a little. He smiled a little and Pyre exited the room to go find Sniper. He was on watch today, and Pyre wanted to know why the person had been let in.

Sniper was cosied up in his nest, wrapped up in a blanket to help fight off the chill of the cold morning. A trail of mumbling signified that Pyro had appeared behind him, and he waved it over. It sat down beside him, curling its tail around itself, and passed him a note in Medic’s elegant writing. 

Sniper, there was an attacker in the base today. Do your job properly or I will come over there and personally dissect you for organs. -Medic.

“Blunt, ain’t ‘e.” Sniper muttered, and folded the note up. Instead of giving it back to Pyre, he slipped it into his vest pocket. “Well, oi’ll be off then. Thanks for the note, Pyro.” Pyre nodded, and slipped back to the main room.

Suddenly, Pyre’s contract communicator sprang to life. “Heyyyyy Pyro! It’s Miss Pauling here! Can you do something for me? Would you like to do something for Miss Pauling?” Pyre nodded, delighted, and mumbled an affirmitive. “Oh thank God. Can you keep inside for a while? And tell the team to be on defensive mode for a while? The rest of the team’s mics aren't working and I think there’s-” Her voice cut out, accompanied with a lot of crackling. 

Alarmed, Pyre dashed to the intercom. It switched on the mic and started announcing Miss Pauling’s message. It could hear Demo audibly frowning, and pinched the bridge of its gas mask. “Need help?” There was a decloaking sound and Spy appeared behind it. “Yes. I do. Miss Pauling said I needed to tell everyone to be on defensive mode.” 

Spy relayed the message and Pyre thanked him, then dashed to the armoury. Before it could get there, however, something thunked into its leg. Frowning, it plucked a dart from its leg, and then darkness rushed to cover its vision.

Clea decided she didn’t like cells. “Yo!” She called. “Any chance I get to go now?” The guard shook his head and Clea sighed, leaned back on the small bed. The cell was quite large, with a toilet and a sink and a bed, but no windows except the door. Which was barred. And the barred wall beside the door. 

The prison was tall, and Clea was on the third level. She flopped back and yawned, putting her arms behind her head. Xena was somewhere in…. She didn’t know where Xena was. 

That’s when the complaints were heard. It started, a female voice grumbling about something, and it steadily grew louder. Clea got up and curiously grasped the bars. “...Listen, I’m not going in prison, what about Sen? He’s gonna waste away Will, mark my words, and then you’ll have killed one of an already endangered species-” A girl was shoved into view. 

She wore a green dress with a darker gradient, and a belt was tied above her stomach. It hung down to her knee on one side, then sloped down to just above her ankle on the other. Her hair was long, and looked like it hadn't been washed in a million years. It was of a curious colour, purplish undertones overshadowed by a lightish brown. A flower crown rested nestled in that hair, matching the vines that marched around her arms, coiled like snakes peering out from her wrists. Her eyes were a light blue, and there was a mask pulled up to just below her nose. She wore no shoes, and her eyes were steely. This girl was being shoved along by a flamboyant man in shining diamond armour. From the Minecraft universe, then.

Elliott furiously allowed herself to be pushed next to the door to the cell that had the girl in it. She wore a green hood, rimmed with yellow, and ended into a hooked purple visor that didn’t shine like a see-through material. She wore a teal shirt that rose up at the belly. She had a purple undershirt to cover this. Her legs were long, clad in skinny jeans and sneakers. Two bits of straw-blond hair poked out from under her hood. 

Elliott was turned, and the shackles binding her wrists were unclipped. Then she was pushed into the cell. With the girl. 

It had been half an hour. Clea sat in one corner of her cell, and the girl in the dress in the opposite. “Do you talk?” Clea broke the silence. “Yes.” 

“What’s your name? I’m Clea.”

“Elliott.”

“Isn’t that a traditional guys name?”

“I’m trans.”

“Oh.”

…….

“For the record, you make a wonderful female.”

“Sure.”

“What are you in for?”

“Murder. Stealing.”

“Woah.”

“You?”

“Murder, apparently. I didn’t do it though.”

Elliott raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”

“No seriously. I escaped from the murderer.”

“Tell me about it, then.”

So Clea told Elliott about her escape from the beast.

“You’re from Dead by Daylight?”

“Nah. Roblox. There’s a variation. You’re from Minecraft?”

“Yeah.”

“Who’s Sen?”

Elliott had her knees to her chest already, her arms wrapped around her legs, but she hugged them tighter. “My best friend. An Enderman.”

“Don’t they attack you if you look at them?”

“Sen’s different. He doesn’t mind. Except if you look into his eyes.”

“Ah. Just checking, you aren’t gonna kill me or anything, right?”

“No. I kill people who cheat me, or that I’m hired to kill.”

“Reassuring, aren’t you?”

“I’m not used to talking with people.”

There was another silence as the minutes stretched into hours. Then the cell’s door was opened again and a dark mass was dragged in. Elliott made a dash for the open door, but was shoved back again. “Who is that?” The two made their way cautiously over. Well, Elliott made her way cautiously. Clea darted over and started shaking the person’s arm. Elliott slapped Clea’s hand away and gently rolled the person onto their back.

Both drew back and gasped. The person was wearing a baggy red suit, with ashy, singed edges, that tucked into their black boots. There was a belt, and two straps like suspenders hooking over it. They wore grey gloves, with bands, and finally, had a gas mask. Their hat was old-fashioned, like an old detective movie, but what had gotten both of the girls attention, was the strangers singed green ears and tail.

“What the… Humanoid fox?” Clea whispered, and Elliott shook her head. “Don’t think so.” Then the figure sat up and rubbed its head. 

After some restrained screams, difficulty communicating, and finally resorting to sign language, Clea and Elliott became acquainted with ‘Pyro’. The masked nightmare had been darted and had woken up here. It seemed to pine for nine other people, with the exception of possibly one. But even Scout, as it said, would have been a welcome blessing. 

“There’s two bunks; who’s sleeping on the floor tonight?” Clea broke the silence again. “Or! Wait, two of us could share a bunk.” Elliott shook her head vehemently. “No way in Nether.” Pyro gave a muffled mmph, and Elliott shrugged. “Sure. You share with Clea.” 

“Right, no other awkward silences, let’s talk about our past. Edgy teenager Elliott, you first.” Elliott shot Clea a death glare. “I’m not an edgy teen.” “Edgy adult?” “No.” Pyro mmphed warningly. “Fine.” Elliott took a deep breath. “I was spawned in a village inhabited by ‘players’ like me. I grew up without event, apart from being one of the hardest workers and strongest. And I could talk to mobs. I had the appreciation and friendship of everyone in the village. But my best friends were Rory and Will.”

Elliott sighed. “I always played with them, helped them whenever I could, snapped at them a few times, apologised, and never thought that Will had ambitions. When we were sixteen, Will joined the army. He was always a flamboyant guy, with dreams and a funny accent. Then it was Rory and me. A year later, it was the update that ruined my life. It brought witches. It was decreed that players could turn into witches, and witches could disguise themselves as players with powers.”

“I knew then that I could never reveal my ability. Rory and I made a pact not to tell anyone. An uneasy two years passed, and everything seemed like it was going to be fine. Until Will turned up at my doorstep - he was commander of the army. He had slain the Enderdragon, Withers, and countless mobs. And he’d remembered my ability.”

“I was hidden away by Rory, who told everyone I had died. Will stayed for a while.” Elliott laughed bitterly. “And Rory and Will fell in love. The two married within two years. Rory, obviously thinking Will, her true love, was more important than me, gave me up. Fair enough, I thought, and ran. I hid out in an abandoned village, cast away my normal brown apron, and used iron armour for a while.”

“I lived there for a few weeks before finding Sen. I saved him from a rain storm, and he stuck by my side. And he helped me when I realised I wasn’t happy living as a guy any more. So I changed my gender. I found the material I used for my normal dress, hooded up, and went to some people who didn’t know me. Now, I’m perfectly female.”

“I hollowed out a cave with Sen’s help, and we opened a sanctuary for mobs. We have a blaze in third command taking care of them right now. I started doing Assassin and mercenary jobs, and…. Yeah. Rory figured out my location, and Will nearly killed Sen unless I allowed myself to be captured. And now I’m here.”

Clea’s mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out. “What about you, Pyro?”

Pyro shrugged. “Not much to say, to be honest. I very vaguely remember dancing in these wonderful rainbows, calling for my family to come join me. Then someone came in and told me to come with him. Didn’t know who he was at the time, but he sounded terrified. Not at me though. For me. He took me to the RED base, and gave me this suit to wear.”

“Turns out that was Engie. He signed me up for my job now, where I get to help people! He’s my very best friend. Sometimes, on days that I feel headachy, he turns into a flying dolphin. Just like Miss Pauling turning into a butterfly, or Solly turning into a unicorn. But I don’t know why I’m here. They took my lollipop and my rainbowthrower! It’s no fair.” 

Elliott leaned back, deep in thought. “Maybe they thought you were dangerous. Not to other people, but they thought you were working yourself too hard whilst helping people. Which makes them not bad, just misguided.” Pyro scratched its mask. “Makes sense.” The two looked at Clea. “What about you?”

“Well. I don’t really have an interesting backstory, really. You wouldn’t want to know it.” Elliott raised an eyebrow. “Bore me to sleep then.” Clea shook her head. “No, really.” Elliott gave her a look. “Just go on. Lie to me, and I will consider killing you.” Clea gulped and sat back.

“I…. I used to be a spirit. Not a ghost, just a spirit. And an evil one, at that. I used to roam the horror games, the dark games. Kill people. Destroy. Have fun with the other spirits. By killing people. Until I possessed this body to scare a group of children.  But somehow, our minds merged. We became one entity. The body I took, her name was Claire. The spirit’s name was Althea.”

“Claire refused to let Althea leave her body. She was perfectly fine with sharing a body. She believed Althea could change, become a good spirit. And eventually, Althea began to change. She would make better choices. She stopped scaring people, she stopped killing.”

“Finally, the day came when Claire deemed it a good thing for Althea to leave. Althea thanked her, and left. Claire continued on her way, and then, someone killed her. Althea felt her pain and rushed to her dying friend. Desperate to save her, she merged with Claire’s body once more.”

“In her haste, she poured too much power into her fusion, and fused her soul with Claire's. She heard only one thing - thank you - before they fused into Clea. That’s me.”

“Technically, I’m they/them, but I like the pronouns she/her. But anyway, our personalities fused, and so I get Althea’s enthusiasm, but also Claire’s shyness. I get Althea’s killing urges, toned by Claire’s logic and reasoning. I get Althea’s interest in reading, boosted by Claire’s love for learning and smarts.”

“In all, I’m technically two different people.”

Elliott nodded her head, impressed. “And where does Xena come into all of this?” Clea’s mouth tightened. “Xena is our soul remnant. She was formed of the split pieces of both our souls.” Elliott was still. “Alright. The lights should go out at any moment, so let’s get to the bunk.”

The other two nodded and Elliott jumped up, grabbing the fifth-to-last-rung of the ladder and hauling herself up. Clea, the smallest, curled up in the bottom bunk, and Pyro lay beside her on its back. Before Clea nodded off, she realised she had neglected to learn about the vines that wrapped around Elliott’s arms.

The lights went out, and Clea and Pyro started to sleep. Elliott lay awake for a while, contemplating how Sen was doing, how she had been captured, and, of course, how to escape. 

The lights turned on and Elliott grumbled, turning her head to the side. She had her hands tucked behind her head, and her legs crossed. She stared up at the ceiling for a while, before jumping down. She looked at Pyro and Clea and snickered. The two were curled up, Pyro with an arm wrapped around Clea’s shoulder, and Clea pressed into Pyro’s chest. 

Pyro blearily opened its eyes. It was tired. It swivelled its ears to hear Elliott pacing just behind the bars. It nearly rolled, but remembered Clea quickly, and realised its arm was wrapped around Clea’s shoulders. It's tail rested in Clea’s arms and as it tried to take it back, Clea mumbled and tightened her grip. Pyro smiled internally, and gently shook Clea awake.

Clea jumped out of her bed and yawned, then immediately went to the door. Still locked. Pyro slowly got up, and the trio looked across the prison. Soon, their door was unlocked, and they grouped to the courtyard. 

“Right, so now that we appear to be a group, how are we escaping?” Elliott wasn’t one to indulge in small talk. “Well, all our weapons should be stocked over there, along with our clothes.” “And how do we get in there?” 

Elliott thought for a moment. “Well, we could make our own weapons. We could use-” She was cut off by someone yelling. “Over there! Hands up!” Scowling, Clea raised her hands. “We’re already in prison, how can we get in any deeper trouble?” 

Two guards rushed over. “How come you don't have your uniforms on?” Elliott shrugged. “We were just chucked in a cell.” The guards frowned. “All three of you? In one cell?” Pyro nodded. “This is extremely against protocol,” the taller guard muttered. “Sorry. I don’t really know how prison works.” Clea offered.

The guards talked into their walkie-talkies and the shorter one nodded. “Alright, if you would come with us?” Elliott glanced at her comrades, and nodded. “Ok. Where are we going?” The guards started walking, with the trio following. “To get you registered and everything else.”

They had just closed the door when Pyro mmphed something. “Sorry, but could the other guard turn around?” The two translated, and the taller guard turned slowly to see the shorter, choked out in Pyro’s grip.

The guards were tied up, and everyone had retrieved their weapons. Then they darted off to find Sen and Xena.

Sen had finished talking with Xena, and languished in the corner. He had a magic-binding bracelet on, preventing him from teleporting. Xena was stuck as a rhino due to the collar that also bound her magic. 

The cell was cold, and damp, and the bars were just close enough for Sen not to be able to fit through. “Xena, give up. Already.” Sen had had just enough of Xena trying to ram the door. Xena did give up, and lay down with a huff.

Sen got up and wandered the cell, which didn’t take very long. He stuck an arm through the bars, retracted it, and then heard running footsteps. He frowned and looked through the bars. To see Elliott and two others running towards the cell.

Elliott saw Sen and put on a burst of speed. “Right. Keys!” Pyro chucked her the keys and she unlocked the door as quickly as possible. “Let’s get out of here!” She opened the door and Xena and Sen tumbled out. “Sen, can you teleport us?” Sen pointed to the band on his wrist.

“Magic binder.” Elliott snarled in fustration and took out her dagger. “Right. Arm.” Sen held out his arm and Elliott cut through the binder. Sen nodded appreciatively and teleported around a little. Elliott did the same for Xena, and counted quickly. “Right, how many can you teleport at once?” Sen frowned. “Three.” Elliott pulled her mask up. 

“Sen, we’re gonna need you to cry. Ender pearls.” Sen nodded and looked directly into the sun, which made his eyes water, and allowed himself to cry three ender pearls. “Right! Let’s go!” Sen teleported outside, and waited for the others to catch up. They did, and Sen placed his hands on the two stranger’s shoulders, and Elliott climbed onto Xena. Then they teleported-

-back to base. Except this wasn’t base. Clea looked around and started to shake. “Oh no. Ohhhhhh no.” Pyre shielded its visors. “Where are we?” Clea swallowed. “We’re in a horror speedrun.” At that moment, Pyre became aware of breathing sounds behind it, and turned to see a dragon. Quite cute, if it was being honest. The tall rainbow person shifted, and Clea giggled. “Run!” Pyre clapped its hands. Tag! It loved tag.

Pyro turned and Elliott looked to see a terrifying thing of nightmares. A maniacal grin twisted the creatures torn lips, and needles pierced its eyes. It had no other features, other than being a tall, slender humanoid with no right proportions. Sen shifted uneasily, and Clea whimpered. “Run!” 

Somewhere, back at the prison….

The shadow moved slightly at the window. “You lost them, you say. You stupid, stupid, idiot.”

Tired of the arguing, Elliott beckoned to Sen and whispered to him. He shook his head repeatedly, but Elliott kept whispering and soon his face changed. "O….k." He reached for Elliott's shoulder and Clea glanced at him, then snarled. "Oh no you don't."  He backhanded his subordinate, who went flying. He grabbed the next one. “Find them, now.” 

Meanwhile.

Clea cartwheeled to a stop. “What the hell.” Elliott sat up and held her head. “Sen, do you have some food?” Sen nodded and handed her a piece of steak. She ate ravenously and sighed in relief as energy flooded her. 3 hearts changed to full health. Pyro snuggled its new friend, the monster that had been chasing them. 

Sen folded his arms and sat back. “Us have to get to Minecraft. Now.” Elliott stood. “Sen’s right. If we can just, get to my base, we’ll be fine.” Clea shook her head. “No way. We’d be safer at my home.” Pyro mumbled something. 

Elliott scowled and folded her arms. "Well! I'm going. I don't know why I even helped you guys. Soft-hearted weaklings," she muttered. 

Clea frowned and a weak red glow filtered faintly from under her visor. "Oh no you don't. I saved your life, you ungrateful little-" Pyro frantically mumbled and was ignored. 

Elliott put her hands on her hips. "Oh, so now I owe you something? Is that how it goes? You save my life, I save yours? Well listen up, sunshine, cause you would never have gotten out of that prison without me!" Xena snorted threateningly and Sen stood by Elliott's side. "I cannot believe you! You're all 'independent' and angsty, so you can't even accept help? And you've done hardly anything for us!" Elliott's eyes hardened. Well, they went more steely than they already were. "I didn't ask to get locked up with you! I was only there because Sen was threatened! I'm out of here! Fend for yourself, demon-girl." Clea became very still. "What did you just call me?" Elliott sneered. "You heard me! Or is deafness part of being evil?" Pyro whimpered and clutched its pet tighter.

Pyre didn't understand! Why were they being harsh? This was the first time something like that had happened….. it wasn't fair, it WASN'T! Why, why, why? Why were they arguing? It wanted to go home…. It wanted to see Engie and Medic and Sniper and Miss Pauling. Heavy, Solly, Spy, Demo…. Even Scout. What it would give to hear the Announcer’s voice yelling at them again. 

Clea could feel her wings beginning to unfurl. “I. Am. Not. Evil. You’re disrespecting Claire by saying that! And all her work with Althea! I - We! We are not evil!” Elliott laughed, irritatingly. “Oh, right, right. Sorry - I just thought, with your history of being a demon, and everything~” Clea’s lip curled. “Alright, you shut up now.” Elliott raised an eyebrow. “Also a side effect? You think you’re above everyone else?” Pyro whimpered again and Clea’s anger surged. “Now look what you’ve done! Pyro’s upset!” Elliott snarled. “You started this!” Clea remained silent for a while. 

Elliott sniggered at seeing such a simple rebound silence Clea. The idiotic girl would not leave her alone. It was quite funny, if she was being honest. “Come on Sen, we’re going.” Sen took her hand and they began to vaporize into purple particles. Clea growled and reached for them, Xena rushing forward as well - Pyro joining in and touching Elliott’s shoulder, with its buddy on its back, arms wrapped around its neck. Then they all teleported. 

#pyro #tf2 #roblox #but it's actually.... pyre! #dun dun dunnnnn #anyway #minecraft #sen #enderman #elliott #fanfic #crappy fanfic #clea #althea #claire

[zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen]

‘The Hot Situation’

Blake and Yang stepped off the ship, finally setting foot on the island of Menagerie. The two of them kept an eye out for Sun, who was supposedly here already. This visit to Blake's parents' place should be interesting and fun, to say the least. Ghira had been constructing a Ninja Warrior type obstacle course in his spare time and wanted Blake to try it out.

He had also invited Sun along since school was not in session, and Sun had taken him up on the offer. Blake's Scroll beeped and lit up. She checked it to find a message from Sun.

"He's chatting up some parrot guy at the Beastly Beans. He said Ilia was there, too. I wonder if Dad would be cool with her coming to work out on his shiny new Ninja Playground."

"Pops would probably be fine with it, Blakey! I mean, he invited Sun, right?" Yang replied as she tied her hair back. She was a smidge overdressed for this heat, but she could change at the Belladonnas' house.

"I think that was more because of Mom... you know, she seems to like Sun a bit more than she probably should." The words stung in Blake's throat. "I think my dad is okay with that... into it, even." She thought she might be sick, but she held herself back.

"Wait, so both your parents have a soft spot for Sun? Or should I say a hard spot?" Yang asked, throwing the joke in for good measure. Blake's eyes went blank at that.

"YANG!" Was all Blake could manage at the moment.

"Sorry, Kitty Cat. You know the jokes never stop!"

"It's okay! I mean, what my folks do is their business, as is with whom they do it. I would hope Dad doesn't want any monkey business, but who knows?" Blake rolled her eyes at Yang, the blonde laughing her head off.

"And you say my jokes are terrible!" Yang retorted.

"Hey, is that a human girl?" Blake heard a random faunus ask.

"Yes, and she's with me! So scram, Fishy Face!" Blake retorted, the amphibian faunus rolling her green eyes.

"My, I didn't know humans could be so cute! We don't see a lot of them around these parts!" The fish girl's friend, a dog faunus with floppy ears, mentioned.

"That's why she's with me! Not for you, Dog Ears!" Blake snapped. The two faunus noticed who they'd been speaking to, gasping at the sight of her.

"You're the Chieftain's daughter! We apologize, ma'am!" The fish girl surrendered, taking a knee.

"Stand up, Fishy Face! No need to bow to a lordling!" The fish girl stood and gave a hand signal of respect. "Gods, you're pretty!"

"Hey, your human is right here, you know!" Yang complained. Fishy Face was certainly a knockout, but did Blake have to say so right in front of her?

"Also, that's my partner, ma'am!" The dog boy with the floppy ears spoke up, sliding his hand into the fish girl's hand.

"You make a lovely couple. Maybe we could go on a double date while Yang and I are in town?" Blake told them, the fish girl grinning from ear to ear. She produced a Scroll and tapped it against Blake's Scroll, and Blake and Yang made their way to the coffeehouse.

Sun and Ilia were seated at a booth talking. Apparently, Sun's bird boy was no longer there. Ilia waved at the two of them. Blake could see stars in the reptile's eyes, probably at the sight of Yang. Yang's muscles usually had that effect on people. Blake sincerely hoped Ilia wouldn't get a nosebleed.

"So, what's this about your Pops building a gym?" Ilia asked as Blake and Yang made it to the table.

"You could probably call it a jungle gym... Huh? Huh?" Yang joked. Blake face-palmed at that remark, though Sun laughed and Ilia chortled.

"It's one of those Ninja Warrior obstacle courses that are all the rage lately," Blake answered. Ilia grinned. "You'd probably outdo all of us, Ilia."

"Not a chance! I'm a monkey, for crying out loud! Swinging through trees is my usual gig!" Sun mentioned. That gave Blake and Yang.

"Perhaps we could make a friendly wager? I'll put 100 Lien on Ilia!" Blake smirked.

"You're on! My money's on Sun!" Yang cheered, fist-bumping her fellow blond.

"If I win, can I also touch your abs, Yang?" Ilia asked, blushing at her own words. Yang smiled and lifted her shirt slightly, her taut abs catching the sunlight that filtered into the coffeehouse.

"You can touch them now if you like, Lizard Lady!"

"Just don't get too handsy, you scaly-faced shrimp..." Blake reminded Ilia. The chameleon girl reached one hand out and dragged it across Yang's incredible abs. Blake thought the girl's soul might leave her body. Hearts formed in Ilia's eyes at the feel of Yang's muscular physique.

"I think that's enough, Ilia. Wouldn't want Blake to hurt you too badly." Yang suggested, and Ilia drew her hand back.

"I wouldn't mind that at all..." Ilia muttered as she sucked in a breath. She covered her mouth and blushed bright red as she realized she'd said that aloud.

"Perhaps we should get going. Pops will be expecting us." Sun mentioned, and the four of them departed the Beastly Beans.

\/\/\/\/\/

"You all made it! And you brought Ilia, too!" Kali exclaimed as she answered the door to see the four of them. She hugged Blake and Yang tightly. "Thank you for bringing the boy along, especially!" Kali whispered into Blake's ear, Blake turning green at the idea. Kali hugged the remaining guests separately, saving a particularly long hug for Sun.

"PSST! BLAKE! I think your mom just grabbed Sun's butt!" Ilia whispered. Blake chuckled.

"Yeah, she seems to have a thing for blonds, too! Must be where I get it!"

"What's your dad gonna say?"

"He gives my mom whatever makes her happy, so if she wants to play Hide the Monkey with Sun, Dad will probably join the game." Blake rolled her eyes.

Ghira appeared and presented his gym to the young Hunters in training. "So, I hear we've got a bit of a bet going! My money's on Yang!" He said as he hugged the girl he claimed as his daughter-in-law.

"I appreciate it, Big Papa, but the bet is between Ilia and Sun," Yang replied, hugging the enormous panther man tightly.

"Oh? Then I'll put my Lien on the Lady Lizard!" He announced, Ilia high-fiving him.

"My money's on the Monkey King!" Kali told them, winking at Sun. He uneasily smiled at her. Blake could see her father laughing.

"I bet it is, Kali..." Ghira nicked, Kali shushing him quickly.

They tossed a coin to see who would begin. It landed on Tails, meaning Sun would start things off! He hopped between the diagonal pads of the first obstacle with ease. Next came a swing that led to a rope net. He launched off the platform and grabbed the swing, swinging on to the rope net flawlessly and climbing down to the next platform.

Next came monkey bars shaped like a staircase. This led to a climbing exercise with a semicircle of pegs and holes. He easily conquered the staircase, and the climbing was a breeze. Finally, he came to a warped wall. He fell short on his first to attempts, but the third time he reached it and climbed up, victorious.

"Time is 3 minutes 59.70 seconds!" Ghira announced. Ilia stood at the starting line, poised and ready. She cleared the entire first obstacle with one precise jump. She hopped onto the swing and over to the net.

"Under a minute! Keep going Ilia!" Blake cheered. Yang scoffed.

Ilia took her time with the stairs, though she raced through the first half of the 'monkey pegs'. The second half, she moved the pegs carefully until she was in the proper range to swing onto the platform. With under two minutes passed, she faced the warped wall. She scaled it on her first try, making her the winner.

"Pay up!" Blake told Yang, the blonde sticking her tongue out as she flipped Blake 100 Lien. Ghira and Kali settled their bet.

"Poor Sun," Kali consoled the golden boy. "Hey, Ghira and I have a consolation prize for you! It's in the house. You three work out to your hearts' content!" She told the girls as she and Ghira led Sun back toward the house. Blake rolled her eyes while Yang and Ilia laughed.

Blake's Scroll beeped. "Mom says don't come into the house until the signal is given. So, ladies, shall we work out?"

"I think I'd rather make out, hon," Yang suggested, forgetting that they had a guest. Blake motioned toward Ilia. "Oh yeah, how rude of me! I forgot we had company!"

"I'm not opposed to Yang's idea..." Ilia smirked, Yang's eyes falling open. Blake scoffed.

"You're actually thinking about it, aren't you?!" Blake snapped. Yang's face fell. Ilia blushed again. "Well, I didn't really say 'No', did I?" She added. Yang grinned, while Ilia's eyes turned to stars. They found a shade tree to crowd under and began their fun time.

"Geez, I should lose bets more often..." Yang mentioned between kisses.

"This is a special case, Glucose. We won't be adding every cutie we see to our mix." Blake rebuked.

"Sure, Honeypot. Still, best hundred Lien I've ever spent!"

Ilia still had stars in her eyes, but she made a sound that said she agreed. Oh, she hoped Blake and Yang visited more often.

\/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/ \/\/\/\/\/

Day Seven: A Parent

Naturally it would be the Belladonnas.

At some point I imagined the RWBY characters being on the show Ninja Warrior doing the different courses and junk, so that’s where this began. Then I remembered a fanfic that I read against my better judgment (a smutfest shipping Black Sun and featuring Kali) and the sequel I had in mind that I wouldn’t write because I don’t write smut. Basically Ghira finds out about Sun and Kali and decides to find out what’s so special about the golden monkey. I think it could be funny, at the very least. 

Also the Sun/Kali and Sun/Ghira shipping that Volumes 4 and 5 have inspired find a nice middle ground in this pile of garbage I’ve created. Also, I can’t really have Sun get it and leave Ilia out in the cold, so that’s why I included her with the Bees’ business.

I’m sure neither Blake nor Yang would mind... 

This is the most shameless fic I’ve written, and I’m not sorry about it. XD

#RWBY #RWBYAC #RWBY Writing Challenge 2018 #The Belladonnas #Ghira Belladonna #Panther Dad #Kali Belladonna #Panther Mom #Sun Wukong RWBY #Ghira x Kali x Sun #because I'm trash #Blake Belladonna #stealth kitty #Yang Xiao Long #The Golden Dragon #Monkey King #Ilia Amitola #Rainbow Lizard #RAINBOW LIZARD LESBIAN #Blake x Yang #Yang x Blake #Bumblebee #Bumbleby #with Ilia tossed in #Rainbow Bees maybe #I'mma call it that #Rainbow Bees #Yellow Jacket #Meant to Bee #this is shameless af but I'm still not sorry

[raggywaltz1954]

This is the big one.  The unicorn.  The white whale.  The record that woke the vinyl collector within me.  The search for this record took years, but this year the vinyl gods smiled on me, and I am now the owner of this rare bootleg album.  One of the reasons why I’ve been on the hunt for this album is because it’s only available on vinyl.  It was because of this and other rare Brubeck and Desmond music that’s only on vinyl that started me on the journey of record collecting.  Naturally, this record has a rather unconventional background.  But first…

The Music

Tune:  Two-part Contention

Recorded live 25 August, 1956 at Basin Street, New York City

Personnel:

Dave Brubeck-  Piano

Paul Desmond-  Alto Sax

Norman Bates-  Bass

Joe Dodge-  Drums

This album is a super bootleg album made up of at least two different radio broadcasts of Dave Brubeck performances, one from 1959 and the other from 1956.  Side one is a broadcast from a December 1959 Carnegie Hall performance featuring the Dave Brubeck Quartet with the New York Philharmonic, conducted by Leonard Bernstein.  They play “Dialogues for Jazz Combo and Orchestra” by Dave’s brother Howard.  The music was eventually recorded in the studio the next month and came out on the Columbia album ‘Bernstein Plays Brubeck Plays Bernstein’.  The liner notes to that album mention that there three Carnegie Hall performances of the work on December 10, 11, and 13, 1959, so this broadcast is from one of those dates.  By the sound of the music (stiff, tentative, with a few ‘mistakes’ compared to the studio album), I’d peg it closer to the December 10th date.  The preservation of this performance on record is a great historical document and it’s interesting to compare this with the official Columbia release, but I’m more excited and interested in the other side of the album.

The main reason why I wanted to find this album was for the music on the second side of the album.  The two tracks allegedly stem from a Basin Street club date on 25 August, 1956.  I say allegedly because the two tracks differ in sound quality, which makes me wonder if they’re from two separate dates.  Putting on my Sherlock hat (i.e. serious Googling), I discovered a very detailed schedule of the NBC radio show Monitor from the weekend of August 24-26, 1956.  Scheduled for late Saturday night, August 25 at 11pm Eastern Standard Time was live music from Dave Brubeck at Basin Street, in New York City.  I don’t know where the 25 August, 1956 date came from originally, but it looks like it’s accurate.

Dave Brubeck was frequently on Monitor during the mid-1950’s as well as other jazz shows on the radio, and a few of these live airchecks have turned up on bootleg CDs and records over the years, but nowhere near as many have surfaced as similar radio broadcasts from Miles Davis.  The few Brubeck radio broadcasts that have showed up typically have Paul Desmond and Brubeck in great form.  Live Brubeck is the best Brubeck, especially when it’s a club date.  This particular lineup provided Desmond and Brubeck with a solid foundation to really stretch out and play some tasty stuff, as Desmond does on the cut above.

‘Two-part Contention’ is a Brubeck original, being a play on words based off of Bach’s ‘Two-part Invention’.  The contention comes from the changing rhythms and soloists.  After some improvised counterpoint, Paul Desmond launches into his solo, followed by the slower section featuring Brubeck’s piano.  It’s the fast section after this that Desmond really shines.  He throws a lot of different quotes in his solo, including the melody of Gerry Mulligan’s ‘Limelight’, and Brubeck follows with a solo that references the old standard ‘I Get A Kick Out of You’, before concluding the performance at the twelve and a half-minute mark.  Joe Dodge’s drumming is simple, basic, but solid.  His successor, Joe Morello, had a much more powerful and noticeable presence on the drums, but I like Dodge’s drumming.  His occasional accents and spare playing (he only used a bass drum, snare, hi-hat, and two cymbals) are a welcome contrast to the many busy jazz drummers popular then and now.

Being a club date, there’s applause, rattling dishes, and the buzz of conversation, but it’s hardly intrusive.  Taken with the info above, it’s a great example of late-night jazz from a jazz club, as heard on somebody’s radio in 1956.  I wonder if people back in the 1950’s truly appreciated those days of radio when you could flip a switch and catch a club date from Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, Thelonious Monk, and the other jazz greats, with barely any commercials?  Those days surely aren’t coming back.

The Cover

College Jazz Collector Rating:  D+

It’s extremely basic, the cover is.  Of course it’s a bootleg, so the bar is already low.  We get treated to three stencil-like reproductions of a Brubeck photograph and an actual photograph of Leonard Bernstein himself, surrounded by a frame of… rope?  Flowery banner?  I’m not sure.  What’s up with the ‘stereo-mono’ up there, too?  The lack of any color all makes for bland cover, typical of a bootleg album.  It looks like it was made in someone’s basement.  More on that later.  The album came sealed in shrink-wrap (!), but still has signs of a rough life, including a tattered upper spine and bent edges.

The Back

This album takes minimalism to another level.  There’s absolutely nothing on the back of it.  Not a thing.  This is the only album I have that has a completely blank back.  It’s actually kind of neat.  The bootlegger provided all of the info on the front and felt that none was needed on the back, I suppose.

The Vinyl

The vinyl is extremely thin and flimsy, non-deep groove, but in mint condition.  The labels continue the trend of little information.  The info that is there is partially incorrect.  ‘Musical Montage’ as labeled on the cover and the label is completely false, and is in fact the musical work by Howard Brubeck entitled ‘Dialogues for Jazz Combo and Orchestra’, and the four different ‘musical montages’ are ‘Allegro’, ‘Andante-Ballad’, ‘Adagio-Ballad’, and ‘Allegro-Blues’.  The four movements aren’t separated on the record, instead lumped together as one big block of music as it’s performed on the record.  There were slight pauses between each movement, but the record presser didn’t bother to separate them.

The sound quality is amazingly clean for being taped off of the radio.  Despite the ‘stereo-mono’ label on the cover, the music on both sides of the record are in mono.

I did some research on the Ozone label, as I was unfamiliar with it, and was surprised to discover that this album was recorded by the legendary jazz bootlegger- I mean archivist- Boris Rose.  Boris Rose was a man from New York City that tirelessly captured live jazz performances of some of the greatest jazz musicians on his portable tape recorders, either by taking them illicitly into clubs (particularly Birdland) or taping radio broadcasts from his home.  During jazz’s golden era of the 1950’s and 60’s, Rose documented the jazz that came through New York and meticulously kept written records of the tapes he made.  He amassed quite an archive of valuable live music, and the whole operation was conducted in his basement.

Rose traded tapes between like-minded friends, and in the 1970’s began pressing some of his tapes to records and sold them in small quantities on a variety of made-up labels, such as Alto, Ozone and Session Disc.   Apparently he didn’t like serious record collectors and discographers (ironic given his meticulous record keeping) and consequently provided little or purposefully wrong information on his albums.

I found about Boris Rose before I bought this album though, through late-night internet searches for rare live jazz performances.  I always wondered if Rose had captured the Dave Brubeck Quartet on tape, and it looks like he did and that there’s possibly more.  An article from the Wall Street Journal about Rose has made the rounds on different websites, and it is in the spirit of Boris Rose that I bootleg a bootlegged article.  Bon appetit!

Wall Street Journal December 4, 2010

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704354704575651483072044218.html

Elaine Rose, daughter of famed jazz archivist Boris Rose, holds a portrait of her father in front of a small portion of his many master tape recordings from Birdland and a number of other New York jazz venues.

In a dark basement in a quiet residential neighborhood in the Bronx, a well-known archive of privately recorded live tapes and acetates is gathering dust and waiting for some institution to acquire it. The Boris Rose archive, named for the New Yorker who amassed it, is so capacious, in fact, that no one has even cataloged all of it and Elaine Rose, who has owned it since her father died 10 years ago, can’t even begin to guess how much it’s worth.

“This collection certainly deserves to be in a major institution, such as the Smithsonian, Library of Congress, or Institute of Jazz Studies—intact,” said John Hasse, the curator of American music at the Smithsonian Institution.

The collection contains everything from rare performances by modern jazz legends like Charlie Parker and John Coltrane to swing stars like Benny Goodman, Count Basie and Mr. Rose’s own favorites, like Sidney Bechet and Eddie Condon. Ms. Rose is well aware of the need for finding a permanent repository; the acetates and the tapes are, she said, in delicate condition.

“It needs a home. I just can’t keep it in storage. I’m giving myself a time frame of six months to a year to do something with it,” she said.

Boris Rose (1918-2000) was one of those legendary characters who seem to proliferate in the world of jazz. He was tall, articulate, always very well groomed—and by all accounts an outrageous character. An inveterate prankster, he dreamed up a dizzying array of fake label names (including “Titania,” “Ambrosia,” “Caliban,” “Session Disc,” “Ozone” and “Chazzer Records”), many of which he tried to pass off as European imports. Most of his albums bore an address on the front, such as “A Product of Stockholm, Sweden.” But if you looked closely on the back, it would say something like “Manufactured in Madison, Wisconsin” in much smaller type.

The truth was that Mr. Rose produced them all from his brownstone on East 10th Street. He told me once that he took great delight in confounding collectors and discographers, whom he regarded as the bean counters of jazz.

“I always felt something about jazz,” Mr. Rose said in an undated interview with historian Dan Morgenstern that was taped for German television. “As far back as 1930, I listened to broadcasts from the Cotton Club. I heard Duke, I heard Don Redman, I heard Cab Callaway.”

During his years at City College, Mr. Rose practiced the c-melody saxophone but began to find his calling when he got a job at the MRM Music Shop on Nassau Street.

“As far back as 1940, I purchased a home [disc-cutter] recorder and I began to dub records,” he told Mr. Morgenstern. “For the next few years while I was in the Army, I was able to dub records for collectors who couldn’t find the originals.”

From there, he branched out to recording radio broadcasts and then live bands in clubs. “Getting out of the Army in 1946, I had professional equipment, and began to take down all of these jazz broadcasts,” he explained. “First on 16-inch acetate discs. Later on, when tape came into the picture, I was able to record on tape.”

Mr. Morgenstern remembers Mr. Rose as “a man who never sat down—he was always monitoring three or four tape recorders or disc-cutters at any given time.” For decades, Mr. Rose ran a thriving business, recording jazz wherever he could, then making and selling copies or trading them for rarer material.

He operated from 10th Street, but stored most of his original tapes and acetates in the basement of his house in the Bronx, where he raised his three daughters.

One of Rose’s tape recorders

It’s still fairly well-organized: Discs are mostly in one area; soundtracks are in one set of cabinets; 10-inch reels are in one spot and 7-inch reels in another. 78 RPM discs and LPs are all over the place. A thick layer of dust rests on top of everything, but considering the vastness of the collection, the few tapes I recently took out and examined seemed to be in good shape—though neither tape nor shellac will last forever.

Mr. Rose kept detailed notebooks of almost every recording he made. The trick, though, is to find the tape to match the written entry.

“We won’t know what’s in there—or what shape it’s in—until somebody wants it,” Ms. Rose said.

The centerpiece of the Rose archive is the Birdland Collection: Mr. Rose recorded virtually every band that played this most legendary of jazz joints, either directly off the airwaves or by smuggling a concealed tape recorder into the club.

Over time he amassed a spectacular library of modern jazz from the glory years—the 1950s. His friends found this amazing since he rarely listened to the stuff himself; his own tastes ran to Louis Armstrong and Kid Ory. Still, he documented an entire era of music, the great majority of which hasn’t been heard in 60 years.

Around 1970, Mr. Rose’s business entered a new phase when he began using some of his material for mass-produced LPs that were distributed internationally, generally bearing amateur-looking artwork and misleading information. According to friend and researcher Arthur Zimmerman, Mr. Rose rarely if ever bothered to negotiate with the actual musicians or pay mechanical royalties for the compositions (with the exception of several country albums by Gene Autry, after the singing cowboy’s lawyers got in touch). He sold Charlie Parker and Billie Holiday material to ESP Records, and a famous double-LP set of Parker at Birdland to Columbia Records.

In the end, Mr. Rose released hundreds of albums, under dozens of label names, up through the mid-’80s. When compact discs took over, he gradually lost interest. In the ’90s, he made it known that the archive was for sale, but kept raising the price whenever anybody expressed interest.

“He left it to me so I could have an income,” said Elaine Rose. “His words to me were, ‘Make money with it.’ But it’s a whole different era now.”

That was in 2010.  I’ve tried to find out what happened in the seven years since, but haven’t found a thing.  I sure hope somebody with more money than me takes interest in it.

The Place of Acquisition

Good old eBay.  After an almost six-year search, I found this album for sale online as ‘Buy Now’ for $20, sealed and in mint condition.  It’s only shown up once on Discogs since 2011, and I barely missed a sale on eBay last year.  Good things come to those that wait.  Like the other rare Brubeck bootleg album, I clicked ‘Buy Now’ quick, and in a week I was the proud owner of this album, probably one of the rarest if not the rarest album in my collection.  A search on Popsike only turned up one result, and that was my own purchase on eBay.  Despite its rarity, it doesn’t seem to go for much.  A sale on Discogs ended at $10.00 and some change.  Either the people selling it don’t realize it’s worth or it’s really just not that valuable.  Any thoughts and comments would be appreciated!

Dave Brubeck, Leonard Bernstein, Dialogue For Jazz Combo & Orchestra // Ozone (Ozone 14) This is the big one.  The unicorn.  The white whale.  The record that woke the vinyl collector within me.  

#Bootleg #Dave Brubeck #Joe Dodge #Live Jazz #Ozone #Paul Desmond #Rare