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#ransom is a menace
georgiapeach30513 · 9 months
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If you’re still doing moodboards, what about a little dads best friend action with ransom🫣👀 4th of July weekend at the thrombeys and it wasn’t just fireworks going off that night 👀🎆🎇
The absolute FILTH that this had going off in mine and @tis-thedamn-season brains 😵‍💫 🥴 if there’s two things you should know about me is that Andy is my husband, and Ransom is my baby….
This…this spiraled. It spiraled SO much. I — I have no words for how much this spiraled. And it didn’t just stop with Ransom 🫣
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Seeing as how your username is a nod to Ransom, how do you think our murder daddy would feel with your soft spot for Curtis?
Lol, Ahhh, it does sound like Ransom doesn't it?! He is an absolute sweater wearing unit.
But my username is actually from the mean tweet segment. Every time I see it, I laugh so damn hard.
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But oh Ransom... let's imagine that for a second, please.
Ransom huffed next to you at the little squirm you did in your seat, your eyes glued to the devastating story playing on tv. "Will you sit still Kitten?"
Another bit of popcorn was popped in your mouth as you sucked butter off your fingertips. You wiggled in closer to Ransom, your eyes never once leaving the screen. "Sorry, I can't, this movie is to good."
"You can't or won't." He could see all the signs, the little hitch in you breaths, how your pulse where he brushed his fingers was racing, the way you would push to sit up suddenly whenever the main character was made to do something tragic, your pupils widening at that character. You were turned on. "It's all because of him, isn't it?"
You suddenly stiffened in his hold. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're a liar. What is it? He is filth and says almost nothing. Just stares at you like he is all pissed off and then tries to wack at you with an axe!" Ransom waved his hand towards the tv as yet again Curtis was doing just as he described. "Imagine all the hygiene issues you would have with him."
You rolled your eyes, turning it up a bit more. "Will you shut up Ran? This is the best part." He shut up for a few moments, but just a few until Ransom pushed up enough from his seat to jostle you, grabbing at the bowl of popcorn to put on the coffee table.
"You want dirty Kitten? I will show you how it's done right." Making you squeal as he pinned you back into the couch cushions, your very devious partner insisting on making you lose focus on the movie.
Afterward, as you're laying there panting, trying to catch your breath, you let your head tilt, glancing at the credits rolling on the screen. "You are such a fucking pain in the ass." You scolded him, but his shit-eating grin said it all.
He didn't give a shit he made you miss the movie.
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wood-white-writer · 7 months
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"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [4/...]
- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader
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"I think my brain is rotting in places, I think my heart is ready to die, I think my body's falling in pieces, I think my blood is passing me by."
— Mitski, "Brand New City"
Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6
Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.
Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, Buggy is a lonely asshole, "Cross-Hairs"/reader is a lonely asshole too, flashbacks, semi-canon divergence, Reader is strong AF, a mixture of both the Reader's and Buggy's POVs, angst
A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than usual with only 2.2k words... Sorry.
Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))
You’re like a savage beast when you’re fighting, Buggy admits to himself in awe as he watches you tear through your opponents one by one with substantially more strength than anyone thought your body capable of.
But Buggy's not just anybody. He's always known that your body is of a special sort, an Iron Maiden encompassed by skin, flesh, veins, arteries, and ligaments; capable of bringing ruin to anyone and anything if only you have reason enough. Chains can't hold you, nor can any power on this earth.
He relishes in it.
You have your sword and your pistol both disposable at the belt on your hip, but you seem to have no interest in wielding them for the battle. No, your body is a weapon on its own; a blade cutting through people like grass straws on a narrow field.
It’s during times like these — when he gets to watch your strength from the front rows — that he wonders whether you’ve eaten a Devil Fruit of your own at some point, but that can't be. He’s seen you swim.
You, him, and Shanks had been simply traveling through the town where the Oro Jackson was docked, minding your own business when a group of rival pirates suddenly ambushed you. Thinking they easily could kidnap the apprentices of the famous Gol D. Roger and demand ransom, the shidiots would quickly come to realize that they made a mistake.
A very costly one at that. One they will be sure not to repeat.
Whereas he and Shanks stand partnered together against a few of the rival group, you are holding your own quite well from the other side of the fight. He swears he saw one of the men flying over him at some point, though it might’ve just been a trick of the adrenaline.
Kicking one of the larger pirates straight in the balls with his lower body severed from the rest, he turns his upper body to catch a glimpse of you in case you need help.
What he sees instead is a flash of the sun reflecting in your eyes as you pounce at your prey, casting a yellow line in the air that reminds him of lightning about to strike the ground. Everything around him seems to cease mid-motion save for you. There is no fighting going on, no shouting, no Shanks telling him to take cover from an incoming blow.
All he sees is you, and all he hears is his own voice telling him: "Gods, you’re fucking marvelous."
The last thing he hears is Shanks shouting his name before the world begins to darken around him, and the last thing he sees is lightning making its way toward him, destroying everything in its path to get to him.
He wonders drowsily if it's going to strike him too.
———
The fight that ensues reminds you of the battles you partook in during your years as Captain. The chaos in it all. The carnage. The general inability to think properly as you fight. Of course, your opponents back then lacked Buggy's uncanny ability to split up into multiple parts while still alive, but it doesn't stop you. 
Nothing on this earth can.
Blades are thrown, skin is cut, and by the time you get close enough to reach him, a number of props have scattered to pieces in the midst of your warfare. It seems like an endless battle trying to defeat him, just get him to fucking stay still.
Just as you reach for Buggy's chest with your nails reached out to claw at his vest, his midsection separates and all you're left with is air. Just empty air.
He cackles as he puts himself back a few good feet from where you're standing. "C'mon! Put your back into it! It's like you're not even tryin—!"
In a flash, your face is hairsbreadths away from his, and it feels like everything around him stops. 
At that moment, he realizes that the golden color of the sun has not left your eyes. Only to find that, upon closer inspection, it's not the color of the sun that he's met with.
It's thunder, and it strikes hard.
Before he has the chance to blink, the next thing he knows is the feeling of a boulder being pushed against his stomach. Not a sound leaves his throat save for a guttural groan, and he finds himself on the ground before he knows it with stars adorning the edges of his vision.
Gods, he thinks while in a state of both pain and exhausted satisfaction, your face a blurred canvas in his eyes. You’re so fucking marvelous.
By the time Nami and Zoro debut to join the battle, you have already pinned Buggy to the ground with your legs planted firmly on each side of his hips, and a bruising grip around his neck as you press your forearm down onto it. Not enough to cut his flow of oxygen, but enough so that he doesn't have the capacity to move unless he splits.
His face, the very same face you used to paint when you were younger, looks up at you with nothing short of manic glee. He doesn't even divide himself up to get free this time. It's almost like merely connecting to him, even during an act of violence such as this, is enough to keep him entertained. Happy, you dare think.
You find those sea-blue eyes looking up at you, and before you try and strike the finishing blow, you hesitate. You fuckinghesitate, because when it all comes down to it, you can't find it in yourself to kill him. 
The legendary Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, the executioner of a thousand marines and other pirates, can't kill something this time.
You can't kill him. You can't kill those ocean-blue eyes, even when your body yearns to see through with what you promised. You always stick to your promises, but for the first time in forever, you don't. You can't. 
Not him.
Never him.
Meanwhile, Buggy can't help examining you like you're the most fascinating creature he's ever laid his eyes on, because you are. Even after all this time, he's still as drawn to the fire in your eyes that as he was all those years ago. It's a feeling he can never hope to extinguish.
Nor does he want to.
Being the jester that he is, however, he takes the moment to his advantage. This one, vulnerable moment. It's not out of pettiness, but survival. Nothing personal.
He separates his femur and exploits the momentum to knock you off him. He can tell you're surprised as you position yourself on your knees and hands, yet it only takes you a ghost of a moment to recover.
The fire is back in your eyes, a thousand times brighter this time, and the fight continues. 
Now, neither of you holds back, and he becomes first-hand acquainted with just how ruthless truly you can be. When there is nothing keeping you down.
Truth be told, it excites him. Very much so. 
He has the Bounty Hunter and the Tangerine-haired girl hot on his tail, but he hardly provides them a medium of his attention. You're the only thing he can't take his eyes off.
"NAMI! THE CRATES!"
And that's where the entire play gradually comes to an end. Maybe it's what pisses him off the most?
You stalk after his separated body parts like a hunter after a flock of deer, throwing them into the crates as the rest of your companions follow suit. Whereas Nami and Zoro are strategic with their actions, complementing each other, you're acting on pure, unadulterated wrath. 
You do not have Luffy's stretchy capabilities, Zoro's precision, or Nami's diligence. 
What you have is something far, far deadlier.
It's twenty years of pent-up heartache.
Catching pieces of him is much easier than catching all of him.
This is what it's come to, with you and him fighting; with you and him having different goals. It's not the future you envisioned for yourself at all. In fact, it's the exact opposite. If you knew then what you know now, you would've ... 
Once, it was you and him together against the rest of the world. Now, it's you against him, against the rest of the world.
You can feel your eyes threaten to sting as you catch his femur and throw it in an open box that promptly shuts, but like with everything else, you push it down. You push it until all that remains is the vague ache. 
It doesn't matter, you tell yourself. This is what it will stay like. 
In the end, all of his body parts save for his head, hands, and feet are spared from the confinement of the containers, and when he melds them together to a pathetically small version of his usual self, you can't help but address the irony of the situation.
"What have you done to me?!" Buggy cries.
Luffy grins as he caresses his beloved hat, having suffered the most injuries. "Cut you down to size."
Buggy looks as small as you felt that day. Helpless. Pathetic. Reduced to almost nothing.
Still, it's not a moment that brings you any happiness. Not any victory, or satisfaction. You don't even have the urge to gloat. 
All it brings you, as you tower over him from the side, is nothingness. 
You're tempted to kick him, and you almost do. You take a step closer to him, a river of anger rushing through your veins. With nowhere else to go, it circles.
"The One Piece will never be yours!" Buggy yells and flaps his hands, too focused on Luffy to notice you calmly stalking toward him from the dark. "You're just a sad, lonely little boy, wearing another man's hat!" 
It’s Shanks’s hat, you want to scream. Our friend’s hat. Don’t you remember?
Luffy's words don't register with you as you kneel in front of the shortened clown, nor do Nami's questions or Zoro's inquisitive eyes. It all tunes out into the background as you raise your hand slowly to Buggy, and you think about how easy it will be. It will be so easy to end it now. He's weak, he's practically defenseless. There's nothing to stop you now.
Buggy simply stares when he notices you, his mouth slightly parted in what you can only perceive as surprise and ... disbelief? You take one final look at his face, the same face you used to paint long ago, and you briefly wonder how many layers of white, red, and blue separate this one from the touches you applied years ago. 
Is there still some residue left? Any fingerprint? Does anything from you still linger with him, or did he try to scrub your touches off his face the same way he tried to scrub you from his life altogether?
Buggy is completely still as your outstretched fingers close in on him, and he thinks that this is it. Now's the moment when you will make good on your threats, where you'll finally kill him. Truth be told, it's a less-than-satisfactory way to go, but surprisingly enough, it doesn't bother him half as much as he expected it would.
Maybe it's because, after all this time, it's still you until the end? You and him, like it was always meant to be.
He closes his eyes with a sigh and finds that the edge of his lip tilts a little up. "Go for it," he says, awaiting the moment when your calloused fingers grip him. He can anticipate your nails clawing at his scalp, tearing the skin of his cranium, digging until there is nothing left to tear at.
Devil Fruit or not, you're the only one he'll let end him like this.
Except, you don't.
All he feels are your fingertips gently grazing the sides of his cheek, so uncharacteristically soft against his thin stubbles that he could've mistaken it for air brushing his face.
The same hands he knows capable of such great feats of violence and brutality, the same ones who had just fought against him with enough strength to match a beast, are touching him like he's made of glass. 
He snaps his eyes open, and when he meets your gaze, he's surprised to find them ... empty. Hollow. 
The sun is gone, and so is the thunder. Now, there are only clouds in his view.
"Goodbye, Buggy." Your voice is so tranquil that he strains to hear it, and before he gets to, you stand up again and turn your back to him. "He's all yours, Luffy."
No, no! He tries to walk up to you, but his shortened sature won't let him. Don't look away, not yet! Look at me! If only to keep your fucking promise! Just fucking pleas—Please just look at me again!
"GUM-GUM—!"
"No, no, no!" Buggy, for the first time in his life, begs as the kid stretches his arms backward. Not like this. Not yet. He tries to search for you, only to discover that you've already left the circus tent. "Wait, wait, wait! Just wait!"
"— BAZOOKA!"
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vhstown · 4 months
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hobie brown ★ general headcanons
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content/warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of violence, implied abandonment (?), depictions of fictional dystopian govt + police
a/n: it's about time innit 😭😭😭 a couple little thoughts about the guy that has taken over my brain for the past 6 months give it up for spider punk ‼️ very much inspired by @qiupachups's hcs go check em out here
Hobie tends to code-switch a lot depending on who he's around. At the Spider-society, he tones his accent down so people can understand him, but speaks in his natural accent around the mandem & people he likes (e.g. Miles 😁) He's the menace EVER though so he dials the Cockney up to 100 when he's fighting cops outside of the East End because they don't understand it 💀
Even though his handwriting is... atrocious, it's actually because he's picked up the style of ransom notes. In his universe, any sort of communication can be intercepted, so it's better that he can't be identified by his handwriting. That's why it's always changing, and he's half-decent at forgery too.
Speaking of writing, he can do a bunch of pen tricks. It's almost annoying how good he is at it, and if you were to ask him how, he'd just shrug. He's just that guy, you know?
His universe's Aunt May is a lovely lady from the West Indies and she runs F.E.A.S.T in Camden. They're not actually related, but he'll always see her as his aunt. She definitely helped him out after a rough patch in his life, and he volunteers often at the shelter. Everyone there has just accepted the 7ft punk walking around a couple days a week giving out breakfast and coffee.
Hobie is also bizarrely resourceful. He has a LOT of plants in his boat, and some of them grow vegetables! He knows all about gardening and makes the best preserves and soups. It's a good time to be at F.E.A.S.T when Hobie comes in with his little cloth bag full of veggie goodness.
About the rest of his family, Hobie's parents... He doesn't even know who they are himself, to be honest — not like he wants to. However, he does have siblings and a few close cousins. They're all separated, but Hobie does his best to find them. He's the oldest of them all (so far, at least?) and though they don't see him much like a brother at first, he makes sure they're taken care of, regardless of how much younger they are than him. They're always running around F.E.A.S.T, so on the days where Hobie isn't there, he can be sure that Aunt May has a few little helpers (though they're quickly growing taller than her...)
Good with animals. Even the ones that seem a bit rabid warm up to him after a little while. He knows when to leave them alone, when to give them attention, what to feed them, etc. That's why it's not unusual to see them following him around, and a bunch of kittens at his feet eating while he eats his own lunch.
Not actually a big drinker. I like to think he only has a couple of drinks or is just an insane heavyweight because there's no way he's gonna be dismantling the dictatorship if he's piss drunk. There's been a couple times where he's knackered after a night out, though. Just another reason to hate mornings, it looks like.
Most of the stickers on his guitar are from different shows and rallies he's been to, and/or organised, but only a few out of the hundreds he's been to (there's only so much space on a guitar, after all.) It's almost like a little look through his life since he joined the punk scene. Besides, who wouldn't want to beat your local government-made villain over the head with a picture of a cartoon dog?
Absolutely, utterly, undeniably terrible at singing — or is he? Not exactly. He can hum just fine, so singing should be a piece of cake, right? He's alright at a few songs, but "happy birthday" isn't exactly something you'd be performing at the Royal Opera House (he does anyway, but that's a story for another day. Fisk's 56th birthday goes just swimmingly with Spider-Punk on the front of the news.)
Despite that, he's not particularly fond of being known as "Spider-Punk". His Spider identity isn't really meant to be identified, despite how loud his whole get-up is. He's got a lot of people depending on him, and he's careful to never leave a trace of his real identity. That also means, however, that pretty much every punk in the area has a target on their back — let's just say Hobie's got a little "BEATING UP BLUE BOTTLES 101" on a Saturday morning for all his punk friends.
Since the government's got little recording devices and cameras everywhere, Hobie's taken it upon himself to... "borrow" them. He's got a couple mates good with tech, so he's on the scene pretty fast with his own crime-tracking network — pretty sick.
In fact, Hobie's friends (in his universe and others) are pretty useful for more than a few things. For pretty much every situation, he "knows a guy", whether that's related to tech, music, clothing, art, putting together a bunch of random stolen parts to make a dimension watch...
iN CAse
it dON'T
WoRK ouT
— HoBie
🎸💫🕸️
@phoenixinthefiles (since i alr tagged chewy lol)
hey hey hi these r a bit shorter than usual but i just wanted to put these little thoughts out there ^^ might make a part 2 if i have any more thoughts idk we'll see!
rbs super appreciated have a good day and check out my atsv masterlist here!
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babyjakes · 1 year
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | jan ‘23 blurb night
summary | you will learn to take cock; it's the doctor's orders.
pairing | mean!dark!doctor!ransom drysdale x lloyd's little!reader
warnings | ddlg (daddy!lloyd's little!reader), doctor!ransom is mean, dark, cruel, sick, and we love him for it <33, dub/noncon, medfet elements: exam table, restraints, gloves, vaginal dilators, stretching (reader is initially very tight), pain kink, crying, mocking/degradation, humiliation, praise, one forced orgasm, implied forced p in v sex :^), formatting looks silly bc went over the character count
word count | 1,488
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requested by anon | Hey hey, what about a mean!doctor ransom with those vaginal dilators? He has a couple that gradually get larger in both length and thickness. Since he knows reader has such a small hole, he works those dilators one at a time to get her stretched and used to the size so he can pound into her later or at a later date. He’s a sadistic little shit too, enjoying whenever reader is moaning or whimpering in pain, telling him to ease up or take it out. Yet, he responds with something like “Awww, but we got to get you nice and stretched for my cock. You can take it, can’t you? Cmon…Be a good little fuck toy.” Maybe after a bit of begging, he shows the reader some mercy by rubbing her clit as he works the next size into her. Once he gets her through the size closest to his *coughs* hard as fuck cock *coughs*, he’d probably fuck her right then and there. Who knows….. I feel like he’d definitely take pleasure in watching her grow anxious though as he fastens the straps tightly, puts his gloves on, lays out the dilators and anything else he needs or wants, cuts off her clothes/underwear with a knife, that jazz. I wonder if he would explain what he would be doing to her or would he rather choose not to inform reader what torture procedure they’re gonna be enduring. Just a thought :)
an | oooh thanks for this wonderful idea friend! i hope it's okay that i took it and tweaked it a little bit!! i just love the idea of ran doing this to lloyd's baby, those two assholes work so perfectly together in my mind <3
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dr. hugh ransom drysdale is such a fucking menace.
and that's precisely what lloyd loves so much about him. he's nearly as sadistic and cruel as the mustached maniac himself, which makes him the naturally perfect fit when lloyd's girl ends up having a little problem... down there.
he drops you off at the younger man's office, wide-eyed and trembling as you sign in at the receptionist's desk. no one accompanies you back to your room, and it takes everything in you not to turn and run when dr. drysdale himself appears in the doorway, pumping sanitizer onto his hands as he closes the door behind him. no nurse accompanying him, it's just the two of you in the claustrophobic exam room. "ms. y/n," he greets, rubbing the foam between his hands as he takes a seat on his stool, motioning for you to get up on the table.
your eyes never leave him as you climb up, trying to use the pathetic patient's gown as best you can to cover yourself as you sit at the edge of the table. ransom chuckles at your bashfulness, rolling over and yanking off the flimsy garment before you can even think to stop him. "we won't be needing that, sweetheart. now be a good girl and lie back for me."
he's rough when handling you to guide you further toward the edge of the padded surface. when he reaches for your legs to put them up in the stirrups, your first tears begin to fall. "aw, poor thing. look at you- such big, frightened eyes. don't cry, baby. 'm i gonna have to strap you down?" his voice is so mocking in tone, you pass a small glare his way. "lloyd said you can get pretty defiant when trying to fit things up there, let's see..." he finds the right set of restrains in one of the drawers below the table, beginning to secure you in place as your soft protests start.
your poor heart rate's elevated as you lie tied and spread in such a vulnerable manner; staring up at the ceiling, you try to get your breathing under control. "now sweetheart, did your daddy tell you what we'd be doing today? he go over the procedures i'll need to perform?"
cheeks burning in humiliation, you look over at the grinning doctor as he starts to pull on a pair of black exam gloves. "it's okay, little girl. no need to be embarrassed. your daddy brought you here because he can't fuck you, right? he can't fit his cock up your tight little pussy?" you wince at his profanities, but he doesn't mind. "well," his voice trails off as he snaps on his second glove, tightening them both before focusing on the unopened box waiting for him on his instrument tray, "lucky for you, i know exactly how to help poor little girls who can't fit anything up their tiny little fuckholes."
from your spot, you strain to see what he removes from the packaging. when you realize it's a set of black rubber cylinders with rounded ends, ranging in size from just an inch wide and a few inches long to... god knows how long or wide, completely massive, your breath hitches in your throat. seeing your panic, ransom chuckles. "don't worry, baby. we'll start small. gotta work you up to the bigger ones, get you nice and ready for your daddy's big dick."
as you cry and tremble silently to yourself, he positions himself between your spread legs, grabbing a small bottle of lubricant and spreading some over the tip of one of the smaller instruments. "know you're not warmed up yet, sweetheart. bet you're still dry and scared- that's okay. this should help." once he has enough of the clear goo applied to the rubber, he turns to the intimate spot between your legs. "poor little girl," he repeats as he brings a thumb up to run over your folds, his sick mind of course finding great pleasure in the sight of you jerking away from his touch.
he brings the tip of the dilator up to rub over your hole a few times before slowly pushing it in, surprised at how tight you actually are. "jesus," he breathes, "he wasn't kidding when he said you can't even take a finger, hmm?"
"p-please," you beg as your head twists and turns desperately, "t-too big, hurts- please!"
"shhh, you can take it," ransom fights you, working the tool back and forth gradually until he has the entire thing fit inside your sore cunt. tears prickle in your eyes at the stretch. "see? that wasn't so bad," he croons, pumping the length of it in and out for a few minutes before removing it. he knows he should probably just work up one size at a time, but part of him wants it to hurt for you, so he decides to skip a few sizes. at the sight of his next choice, you cry harder.
"aww, poor little baby. but we have to get you all ready for your daddy's cock, remember? this next one isn't even close, we still have so far to go." once he's lubed up the toy, he starts to push it in again. he can't help but smile and laugh at you as you struggle against your restraints, letting out such sweet little cries of pain. "c'mon, gotta be a big girl for me. can you do that, sweetheart?" he asks, already knowing your answer.
"no, please!" you sob, "please! can't take it, h-hurts so bad- please!"
"i know it hurts baby, but we gotta get you nice and stretched out. you can take it, pretty girl. c'mon, almost there..." he has to fight to get the damn thing all the way in, but once he does and starts working it in and out, fucking you at a gradual pace with it, you're finally easing up a little bit, your cries of pain transitioning into little whimpers and moans. "there," he grins, getting a little rougher with his ministrations. "that's a good little slut, see? doesn't that feel good? so full, taking it so far up in you? look at you, you dirty girl; are you starting to get wet for me?"
you're panting, droopy-eyed, disoriented; you don't understand why it's starting to feel good. he removes the second size and you're given a moment to catch your breath, but when you see the next one the doctor's selected, you just about fall apart all over again. "oh come on, don't cry again," ransom groans, resisting the urge to shove the thing into you dry. "you're getting so close, sweetheart. here," once it's properly lubed, he begins pressing in again, and when you clench your teeth and begin to sob as predicted, he decides to have a little mercy on you, bringing his free hand up to rub your clit lightly with his thumb. your cries lessen as he masturbates you, though it's still an unbearable stretch. "i know, so big, isn't it baby? think after this one we'll be able to try one the size of your daddy's dick- won't he be so proud?"
it's a struggle to get it in, taking lots of pushing and help from ransom's thumb on your clit, but eventually you're able to take the toy in its entirety. "good, that's a good little fucktoy. look at you, getting so fucking needy- you're dripping all over the table, naughty girl." though it wasn't in his original plan, he's loving the sight of you writhing and mewling under his touch. growing a little more forceful with his thrusts, he speeds up his thumb over your clit. "you gonna cum for me baby? feels that good, huh? just can't help yourself."
you have no desire to orgasm, but at this point it seems like you won't have a choice. "no, wait- please-" you start to protest, but your resistance only eggs the doctor on more.
his voice is low, dark as he cuts you off. "no, don't fight me, little girl. you're gonna cum for me, now." tears well up in your eyes once more as you're brought to the edge of a terrifying climax; ransom lets out a vicious laugh as your orgasm rips through you. "fuck, just like that. filthy little bitch, getting off on the pain."
as you float down from your high, you're too dazed to notice the object being removed from you, and the doctor's hands pulling away. but when you come back to your senses to see dr. drysdale's massive, rock-hard cock has sprung free from his trousers, you're back to a terrified, frantic state as he grins devilishly at you. "what?" he mocks confusion as he reaches a hand down to pump his length a few times with a low grunt. “this way we can ensure you’ll be ready for your daddy.”
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pantamonte · 2 months
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How would clover end up befriending everyone in underfell yellow? I imagine it would be much harder than in cannon.
Its harder for sure but keep in mind that the underfell monsters put up more hostile fronts to protect themselves in this more dangerous underground or out of pain. I imagine for most of it its a mix of clover being able to defend themselves for a long time while also seeing through their facades and bringing a sense of positivity.
Dalv is scary and pushes people away on purpose. While he has preyed on the unsuspecting monster to eat their magic, at the end of the day his creepy demeanor is furthered by how people are terrified of him. He hypes up his menacing attitude, especially after Kanako's passing because hes afraid of growing attachments. I imagine Clover could see through that to some extent. Dalv also gets reminded of an old friend by seeing clover....it makes it harder for him to be hostile forever.
Martlet at her core isnt meant to be mean. The royal guard simply has strict and high expectations that are enforced. She does it because its part of her job, not because shes a hostile person. That ends up shattering when Martlet ends up having fun and gets attached to Clover. Though she still insists she will help take them to the capital herself, just to ease her mind on not doing her job, and on any hostile monsters along the way defeating Clover before they can get far.
Starlo? At first, was going to have Clover as ransom. He thinks a human soul would fetch a high price and make him and his pals better off. Hes loud and hes prideful, but its also as a means to look cooler in front of everyone when he doesn't feel that way naturally. While he has a tendency to be reckless and a little explosive as well, he still ends up growing a soft spot for Clover, even delaying the whole "ransom" thing just to have a little sidekick a while longer.
Ceroba is the hardest to convince. At the end of the day, she has nothing to lose. She is a woman that has fallen deeply into despair and rage. All she wants to do now is have some sort of revenge on Asgore. Thats her only purpose in life at that point. I dont really think she even can fully bring herself to "befriend" clover until nearly the end, and even then its not for long given that Clover still eventually gives up their soul. She probably would've killed Clover sooner, but she is reminded of Kanako sometimes when she looks at them, and shes often distracted by enemies trying to steal their soul for themselves.
I think also in a way, Clover is meant to have a parallel to Kanako in the sense that they are a youthful character that shows a ray of light in an otherwise miserable world of monsters. So it makes sense that Clover could eventually grow closer to these characters.
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evansbby · 4 months
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how i believe the cevans characters would be like in the hunger games…
Steve Rogers: he’d be part of the Career pack (from district 2– weaponry) because he’s quite big and muscular. He’s also very strategic. Unlike most Careers, he wouldn’t see the games as a chance for glory and he wouldn’t deliberately train for them. He definitely sees through the Capitol’s lies and wants to overthrow them. He’d definitely be a rebel if asked to join the rebel forces, I know in the books districts 1 and 2 couldn’t be trusted but I think he would be trustworthy. He’d probably win his Games too, just based on brute strength and he’s good in battle. If not district 2, he could also be from district 7 — lumber just based on that wood cutting scene in avengers 2.
Ari Levinson: he would also be part of the Career pack and I think he’d be from district 4– fishing industry bc he’d be a strong swimmer and that would be his strength. He and Steve would probably form an alliance bc they know they’re the strongest and in the end it would be a battle between them. I think Ari’s impulsive nature could perhaps be a weakness for him in the Games. He’d definitely be a part of the rebellion. He’s like a Finnick type guy basically but more hot.
Andy Barber: He’d be from district 10.5. And you may ask, what’s district 10.5?? Well it’s an unknown district where they put all the random people. He’d die in the first few minutes in the bloodbath. But okay, in all seriousness, he’d be from district 9 aka grains. That’s all I’ve got for him and I’ve wracked my brain to come up with something better. If anyone has any good suggestions with good reasoning, please add on!
Curtis Everett: He actually fits in to multiple districts. He could be from district 2 — weaponry. Because he has his special axe weapon. But he could also be from district 6 aka transport since he knows a lot about the mechanics of trains and how they work as he could’ve grown up working around trains. But he could also be from district 12, the poorest district since Curtis knows poverty as he spent so many years in the back of the train. Coal mining makes sense for him as a job, too. Therefore, I am going to say he’s from district 12 — coal. But he’s good with weapons too, kind of like how Katniss was with the bow and arrow.
Jake Jensen: He’d 1000% be from district 3 — electronics. That’s a no brainer. He’s grown up watching the games and studying the intricacies of all the arenas and the technologies behind them. He would definitely be a part of the rebellion and he’d be the one hacking into the Capitol’s feed and he’d have a hand in helping to create some of the more technologically advanced weapons for the cause as well as surveillance technology. He’d be a pretty good contender in the games since he’s physically strong but also has brains.
Lloyd Hansen: 100% district 2 — weapons. And he’d even side with the capitol, I think. He’s a career tribute who is trained to be lethal, he knows his way around guns and all other types of weapons. Knives, swords, anything. He’d be a menace in the games, killing for fun and not feeling any remorse. He wants to buy his way out of district 2 by eventually selling weapons to the capitol similar to Sejanus’ dad.
Ransom Drysdale: He’s from district 1 — luxury. As only 2% of District 1’s population live under the poverty line, Ransom is considerably more well off than the tributes of some of the other districts. He’s strong and capable, and he’s a career tribute. He’s got a murderous streak in him, and similar to Lloyd, he doesn’t really feel remorse for killing anyone. He’d fine intricate ways to kill in the arena but his over-confidence is a weakness as well as having to forage or hunt for food.
Who would win? I think the final few left would be Steve, Ari, Curtis and Lloyd. And honestly either one of them could win bc they all have their strengths and it also depends on the arena and the weapons given. For example, if it is a water based arena then Ari would win. If all the weapons given are guns then Lloyd would. But I think ultimately, Curtis has that survivor instinct and grit and determination, like he’d do anything to win and get out. He’s the underdog but I believe he would win.
What do you think?
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inkblot22 · 1 year
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All This Over A Notebook
I don't have any idea what's gotten into me. I seem to have lost my marbles. This will have a part two. I'd also like to mention that as I was adding the warnings, the little Grammarly emoji went from nervous to horrified.
Tw for captivity, implied bullying, referenced violence, item insecurity (like one of the reader's things isn't with them), fear, poverty, Floyd and Jade Leech being themselves. This is mostly for part two, but all characters have been aged up to 18+
Floyd wasn’t so bad to have around. 
That’s what you’d say if you were a liar. You aren’t. In the few months that you’ve known him, Floyd has been nothing but a menace.
It started out simple, of course, nothing too physical, just some verbal jabs, and then he got more and more physical to the point that your skin crawled when you barely thought of him. You’d pass by him in the hallway and he’d be in one of his moods. Not a good or bad mood, just a mood. The type where he wanted to pick on someone, that someone being whichever was unluckier between you and Riddle.
Let’s be real. It was you. It was usually you. Riddle knew Floyd, he knew what his schedule was like, and even though he was a stickler for the rules, he knew how to get in, finish his shit, and leave. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t try your best to avoid Floyd. It was just that you weren’t as perfect as Riddle, especially not when it came to keeping away from the eel menace.
You had a good streak going, though. You hadn’t seen him in several days, but there was a massive downside. You’d been paired with Jade for alchemy earlier, which was just your luck, and he had somehow managed to take your notes, despite you vividly recalling that you placed them back in your crappy little backpack. After changing out of your uniform, you sent him a message asking him to drop off your notebook. He left you on read for fifteen long minutes before finally responding with a message that read like a death sentence.
“you’re free to swing by and pick them up prefect”
As much as you wanted to just wait until the weekend where for sure Floyd would be off finding someone else to torment, you couldn’t. That was your only notebook. Grim didn’t take very good notes but was really territorial with his junk so you couldn’t exactly ask to borrow his, not even so you could write down notes for tomorrow. 
You didn’t want to wait for any longer than you needed to, either. That meant you were going right now. Grim’s big, glassy eyes watched you as you scampered to and fro, snatching up your backpack and what little amount of money hadn’t been used to purchase food for Grim and yourself just in case Jade was holding your notebook ransom. 
“Where are you going?” Grim asked.
“Jade has my notebook.” You responded, flatly.
Surprisingly, for once, Grim kind of just accepted that as what it was and went back to his homework.
Instead of asking if he could come along, he asked, “Are you gonna come back with food?”
“Uh, from the Lounge? Probably not. I don’t want to be there any longer than I need to. Maybe if the cafeteria is open or if Jamil is wandering around I can ask?”
Grim grumbled, something about him starving, and you smiled, thinking about how the two of you were basically living off of pennies. This was Twisted Wonderland’s hospitality, you guessed. 
“Okay, bye, Grim. I should only be a few minutes. Okay?”
He was still grumbling when you left, but you couldn’t hold it against him. You really hoped you’d bump into Jamil or Trey on the way back. Someone who understood your predicament and also had an excess of food, but first you had to go get your notebook.
The hall of mirrors was, as always, eerily silent. As you took a step forward into the soft beach sand that was somehow always littered around the entrance to Octavinelle, no matter how often it was swept, you swallowed and prayed to a god you didn’t think existed in this world, begging them to make sure that Floyd was somewhere else.
Then you stepped into the mirror.
As always, the lounge was busy. You’d sent Jade another message, asking him where your notebook was because you were here, and he replied instantly this time.
“it’s in my room on the desk” followed quickly by a “would you mind stopping in the lounge so i could unlock the room for you”
The last place you wanted to go was the Lounge. If Floyd wasn’t in there, Azul definitely would be, and you really didn’t have time for his bullshit today. All he did was hassle you to come work for him, and all you wanted to do was study, just go home and study, hopefully getting some food on the way back. In the larger scope of things, you suppose you’d also want to get back to your world but that was out of your hands entirely, so studying would have to keep your attention otherwise you’d die from the stress of it all.
Jade was in the middle of serving someone when you walked in. Surprisingly, Floyd and Azul were nowhere to be seen. You were impatient, but not an asshole, so you waited until he went back to the kitchen to follow him and grab his sleeve.
“Ah, how very nice to see you, prefect.” He smiled, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You have my notebook. Remember?”
“Oh, that’s right.” He handed the plate he had picked up to someone else, telling them which table it went to before turning back to you, “Well, let’s go.”
Jade didn’t say anything after that. You walked with him in silence up to his room. You’d never been in there before, since you mostly kept to your and Grim’s little bubble. Beyond that, everyone knew to keep their distance from the Leeches. They played off each other like a game of tennis from hell. Jade unlocked the door and held it open for you. You heard the sounds of a shower from the bathroom. You’d have to be quick.
You slipped inside with a quiet breath of thanks and made a beeline for the desk with the terrarium sitting on it, as well as your crusty old notebook, open on the same page you’d left it on, complete with doodles of Professor Crewel as a sea bunny in the margins. You slipped your backpack from your shoulders, closed the notebook, placed it inside, and turned back around.
Jade was smiling at you from the door.
“Thanks, Jade. I could have sworn I put it in my bag,” You said, walking towards the door. 
“Oh, you did.” Jade said, “I just took it back out.”
Before you could react, before you could get angry, ask why, anything, Jade slammed the door closed and you heard the telltale click of the lock. 
You dropped your backpack and ran towards the door, trying the knob before giving up and battering your fists against it.
“Jade, what the hell?! This isn’t funny!” You hollered.
You heard the shower turn off and your slamming became more frantic, now trying to break down the door. Why did all the doors have to be inswing? Why did this door specifically lock from the outside? You went back to the desk and searched for something to break the doorknob, and the bathroom door handle jiggled. 
You felt like a deer in the headlights, only able to look at the doorknob as it slowly twisted. All you could hear was the sound of your breath and heartbeat, roaring like an ocean in your ears. Your brain was screaming at you, begging you to hide or anything, but your limbs felt like lead, solid ice, something heavy and immovable.
As you expected, Floyd stepped out of the bathroom, looking about as disheveled as usual. He didn’t see you for a second, heterochromic eyes looking at the closed door before his head swung around to look at you. He grinned, and you felt your heart skip a beat, then kickstart back into a thundering pace as he walked towards you.
You stepped away and he didn’t follow, instead picking up his phone from his desk and flopping over onto his bed.
“Hey, Shrimpy.” He greeted, casually. 
You could barely breathe, much less respond. You had to get out of here.
“Jade’s not gonna come back until we’re done. Why don’t you relax for a bit?”
You could not. If there was anything more impossible, it’d be going back to your own world at this minute. Floyd sat up and put his phone down, staring at you before he finally approached, long, lazy strides.
His hand gripped your shoulder, he leaned down and you flinched back.
“C’mon, Shrimpy. I promise I don’t bite… too hard.” He punctuated that sentence with a laugh.
Part Two Here!
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cricketnationrise · 4 months
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3:00am, haus kitchen
@darthlivion/@transwicky - tumblr apparently ate your ask, but luckily I copied it into a google doc! have some olliewicks words for your table 💜🦗
want your own ficlet? my followers can prompt their own with these guidelines
🏒🏒🏒🏒
The Haus is still for once.
The kegster had wound down around one in the morning, the last hangers on gently but firmly ushered out the door by the lethal combination of Bitty’s implacable Southern manners and the looming presence of Ransom and Holster, standing just behind him. Even the most devoted partiers caved in the face of such a menacing one-two punch. (Everyone also knows that Bitty’s the scarier part of that combination—Holster and Ransom are just the muscle.)
Jack had been in bed by ten. Shitty and Lardo had disappeared to the reading room around midnight. Holster had piggy-backed Ransom up the stairs to the attic just before the Frogs left, Chowder held up between the ever-bickering Nursey and Dex as they stumbled back to their dorm. He and Ollie were the only ones crashing at the Haus tonight since tomorrow was their designated Bake Tester/Bitty Bonding day. Ever since Bitty had moved in, Ollie and Wicky and Bitty had to schedule their trio bonding time. It was depressing, having to schedule what was once as easy as calling across the hall from their dorm to his, but now they were guaranteed first crack at Bitty’s baked goods.
Ollie himself had conked out on the couch before the frogs left. Normally Wicky would be right there with him, buried in a blanket nest on the floor, but he’s too fucking wired. He wishes he could say it’s the result of whatever Shitty had dumped in the tub juice this time around, but he knows better. He’s not thinking about the why though. He can’t. If he looks at it too closely, he might explode.
So he cleans instead.
Wicky picks up solo cups and empty cans and soggy confetti (who let Shitty have access to a bunch of party poppers?). He sops up puddles of mystery liquid and gathers lost hoodies and hats and socks (Socks? Who is going barefoot at a kegster?) to put in the box of the porch once the sun comes up. The set of car keys he finds, he pins to the corkboard—Ransom or Holster will know whose keys they are and can get them back to their owner. Wicky wipes the stickiness off the kitchen counters and table and sweeps the floor. He’s just bagging up the trash when a soft, concerned Wicky? comes from the doorway.
He spins to see Ollie in the doorway, looking adorably confused as he hides a yawn in his shoulder.
“Thought you were asleep, Ollie,” he says, quietly so he doesn’t wake the rest of the Haus.
“I thought you were gon’ sleep. What’re you doin’?”
“Just too amped from the party, I think. Got a jump on the clean up. Figure Bitty would appreciate—”
“Wicky.” Ollie cuts him off, mid-ramble. “Was it— Are you—” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Should I back off?”
Wicky’s mouth goes dry. Apparently Ollie doesn’t want to let him continue to ignore the root cause of his restlessness. Rude of him, but it sort of sounds like—
“Back off?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You were right there next to me on the dance floor.”
Wicky gulps. “You— you weren’t just…”
“Jesus fucking christ, Wicky. I wasn’t just anything when I pulled you against me by the back of your neck. I wanted you pressed as close as possible. I thought you wanted that, too.”
“Oh.”
“But it clearly made you uncomfortable enough that you’re cleaning at three in the morning, so. Do you want me to back off?” Ollie repeats, meeting his eyes squarely.
“Just, to confirm, or whatever. You were flirting with me tonight?”
“I’ve been flirting with you for weeks, Pace.” He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Or trying to anyway. I couldn’t really get a read on whether you were flirting back or not. Tonight was a chance to see if you would.”
“Oh.”
In the quiet that stretches between them, Wicky can’t hear anything but the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears. Ollie has been flirting with him. For weeks. Flirting with him.
“I’m really gonna need you to say someth—mphff.”
Wicky cuts Ollie’s words off with a kiss. He pulls Ollie as close as possible, deliberately mirroring their positions from earlier tonight. He’s got one hand on his waist, the other cupping the back of Ollie’s neck, holding him firmly in place. He’s not sure how long they kiss for, only that it feels fucking amazing, his best friend matching every movement of his mouth. It feels sheets warm from the dryer—safe and comfortable, lived in.
He kind of never wants it to stop.
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five-rivers · 1 year
Text
Rumors of the Woods of the Kingdom of Amity
@modordracena @gamma-radio
AO3
.
There were rumors about the woods of the kingdom of Amity.  You could hear them at any inn or tavern you went to in any town within a hundred miles of Amity’s border.  You could hear them from storytellers and mendicants begging for their meals.  You could hear them whispered between children trying to scare one another, or old women doing the same.  
They went like this:  
The woods were home to bandits, displaced and deserting soldiers from beyond the southern sea.  Hungry people, some of them, desperate for money and not seeing any other way to it.  Well fed brigands, by other accounts, gone fat off the misfortune of others.  
There was a horrid beast in the woods, a chimera or dragon the likes of which had rarely been seen outside of ancient heroic legend.  It stalked anyone who entered the woods, and if you were unfortunate enough to be selected as its prey, you would never be seen again.  
The trees moved on their own, others said.  They whispered to one another.  They had eyes.  Sometimes, they had teeth.  They would lead you astray, if they could.  Move while you weren’t watching.  Confuse your path.
Or, perhaps, it was the ghost fire that danced between the trees that misdirected travelers and led them to uncertain dooms.  They were more common in swampier lands, marshes, bogs, and the like, but who knew the preferences of ghosts except for ghosts themselves?
But, no.  The woods were haunted, yes, but by the pale ghost of a child, murdered before his time.  Or was it the ghost of a young man?  If you were polite, he would lead you to safety.  But if you asked too many questions…
But they also went like this:
Once, the Conqueror King swept across the land with his thrall armies, seeking to make all the kingdoms of the world his own.  He marched into the woods of Amity.  He did not march out.
The woods were large enough not only to lose armies in, but towns, cities, kingdoms.  And, for those brave enough to dare them and the kinds of risks always associated with ruins, kingdoms’ ransoms.  Assuming, of course, that those kingdoms did not still live, in one fashion or another…
The princess would disappear into the woods for days on end, not to be found unless she wished it.  She would return with flowers in her hair and fruit in hand, no matter the season, her secrets kept tight behind smiling lips.  
Some said there were elves and goblins in the woods.  Small, clever folk who would trade the fantastic for the mundane, blessings for curses, memories for skills, truth for lies, and other, stranger things besides.  
Other rumors spoke of the oldest tree in the forest, and how it had been grown from a cutting of the tree of life itself.  They said the waters of the pool it grew by could take you to strange lands, body and soul together.  
And, as with any rumors, many of them were false.  Much… but in this case, not all.  
.
“Hey, Tucker.”  
The felter’s apprentice jumped about a foot, then craned his neck to look up and backward at the branch Danny was currently lounging on.  “I hate it when you do that.”
Danny grinned and propped his chin up on his hand, clearly displaying his unnaturally white teeth.  Especially the canines.  “Really?  I love when you do that?”
“What?  Jump out of my skin.”
“Maybe,” said Danny, his smile inching just a little wider, until it was at the edge of what was possible for a human face.  He could take it wider, if he wanted.  He didn’t. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I am?  Aren’t you going to ask me what I’ve been up to?” 
“I know what you’ve been up to, you menace.  It’s not like the bounty hunters you’ve been tormenting have been quiet.”
“Aw, you love me.  It’s Walker’s fault anyway, not mine.  Nothing’s making him send anyone.”
“Isn’t he, like, your grandfather or something?”
Danny shrugged and stretched languidly, like a cat, and reversed himself on the branch, fingers growing into claws so he could climb his way down the tree until he was sitting on a particularly prominent root.  Not the ground.  He tried to avoid that, when at all possible.  His tail lashed back and forth.  
“But that’s not all that’s been happening.”
“Oh, gods, please tell me you haven’t started another bizarre rumor.”
“Are they really rumors if they’re true?” asked Danny.  
“Ninety percent of them are crap.  There aren’t any elves in here, or magic immortality trees.”
“Well, I suppose that’s a matter of opinion,” said Danny, tilting his head to one side.  
“Your curse doesn’t count.”
Danny made an offended noise in the back of his throat.  
Tucker sighed.  “Is this something we’ll need Sam to fix?”
“Why do you assume there’s something to fix?  Why do we need Sam to fix it?  She’s the one who broke things in the first place.”  Danny tsked, then put on a disturbingly accurate impression of Princess Samantha of Amity, “Why don’t you look in the mysterious pool, Danny?  Why don’t you try out the red vial, Danny?  I want to see what will happen, Danny.”
“She didn’t say that.”
“That’s not what I remember,” huffed Danny, turning around. “Maybe I should just do this by myself.”
“Okay, okay, I give up.  What have you been up to?”
“The tops of the trees!”  Danny burst out laughing.  
“Wow… it’s just like the same joke you’ve told a thousand times,” said Tucker.  “But, seriously.”
“Seriously,” repeated Danny, “I found the Labyrinth!”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah!  The part of the Deep Woods it was in finally opened–  Hey, where are you going?”
“I’ve got to get Sam,” said Tucker, walking quickly the way he’d come.  
“Well, yeah,” said Danny, crawling back up into the trees and bounding along tree branch by tree branch, “I want her to come, too, exploring weird ruins is kind of her thing, but you don’t have to–  Tucker!”  The plaintive cry was more of a shriek than anything else.  Tucker skidded to a stop.  “You know I can’t leave the woods.  Don’t you at least want to know where the Labyrinth is first?”  
Tucker skidded to a stop.  “Yeah, sorry, buddy.  But I just realized–  The reason for all the weird cursed weather lately.  The frogs and toads and all that.  There was something in the Labyrinth that could do that, I remember reading about it.  If someone got into the Labyrinth before you…”
“They could have gotten it,” concluded Danny. 
“Sam needs to know.”
Danny clacked his claws against the branch he was sitting on.  “Alright,” he said.  “I guess I’ll need to go into the Labyrinth to talk to the spirits there.”  They’d be old ones, slow with age and memory, bound to tree and stone and the ancient meanings carved into once-worshiped rock.  
“Yeah?  But you were going to, anyway, weren’t you?”
“With you guys,” said Danny, “and it’s no fun if it’s work.”
“Yeah… sorry about that.  Look, how about after all of this, we go chase down the river-spire and see if we can’t find those ice sprites again?”
Danny’s ears pricked forward, fur shivering out of his skin at the remembered winter-chill.  He soothed them away.  Stupid shape shifting not working right.  
“Promise?”
Tucker hunched his shoulders slightly.  “Well, we’ll try, anyway.”
A little too wise to the ways of creatures like Danny to trust even Danny with a promise.  Too bad.  Danny chittered, then shrugged.
“I’ll take it.  You know how to call me once you get Sam.”
“You say that like I didn’t just do it ten minutes ago.”
Danny shrugged.  “Hey, you never know.  Humans have bad memories.  That’s why there are all those rumors.”
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biteofcherry · 2 months
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if u were to cast the mandalorian in the ceverse, who would u choose?
Ohh! 👀
While there is that part of me who wants Steve in everything (and he would fit the part of Mando with his soft heart and protectiveness), I actually would probably pick Curtis as the Mandalorian?
He's a little rough, beaten, been through shit and keeps to himself mostly. And he can be a cold badass. But he also has a strong sense of justice, helps those in need and a part of his heart craves for the simplicity of happy, semi-domestic life and belonging to a group.
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Now, not to take away from the awesomeness of Lady Bo-Katan, but since I'm flipping this whole universe upside down, then I'm making Steve the heir to the Mandalore, who wields the darksaber and tries to unite all the tribes.
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Ari's there in the Paz Vizsla role, with his hulking, menacing frame. While at the same time he's the one most chill with the kids/foundlings, protective of them and definitely a ladies man, lol
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Now when it comes to the other characters from The Mandalorian series, then I'd pick:
Andy as the Armorer (a little bitter and 'tired with this shit', but with a lot of experience and wisdom)
Ransom in the role of a Bounty Hunters Guild Master turned respected Magistrate (used to think only of his own gain and life, but to his great dismay he started caring for others and helps Curtis, lol)
Lloyd as the lone bounty hunter with lots of baggage, so our version of Boba Fett (he's not a good character, but not exactly a villain either)
Jake as a former Alliance trooper now working as a mercenary, occasional bounty hunter, so kinda a cuter version of Cara Dune (he's more approachable and good with people, also likes to blow stuff up)
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Text
Puck: hang on hang on. so. Nureyev. as in that Outer Rim terrorist from a while back.
Nureyev: the very same
Puck: as in Peter Nureyev
Nureyev: yes
Puck: Peter's actually your first name
Nureyev: *sighs* it's a long stor-
Puck: RITA. You're a scoundrel and a menace.
Rita: AW THANKS. What'd I do??
Puck: 'Mista' Ransom doesn't look anything like a Ransom and he definitely doesn't look like a Peter', THAT'S WHAT
Nureyev: …
Rita: WHAT ABOUT IT
Puck: I KNOW YOU KNEW HIS NAME WAS PETER THE WHOLE TIME
Rita: YEAH WELL I STAND BY WHAT I SAID
Rita: I'm sorry Mista' Nureyev but I think Mista' Nureyev sounds way better
Nureyev: ...
Puck: okay so she kinda has a point
...
Puck: wait so that's why you don't call him by his first name then?
Rita: no i don't call him that because im not his mom. that'd be weird
Nureyev: *internally screaming WHO TOLD YOU THIS THIS DID JUNO TELL YOU OF COURSE JUNO DIDN'T TELL YOU BUT HOW ELSE D*
(as if Rita didn't clock both their faces the first time Buddy called him Pete in front of the rest of them on day 2 on the Carte Blanche and immediately leap to the absolutely correct conclusion)
Puck: that's - that's not how - you call Jet and Vespa by their first names!
Rita: yeah 'cause they asked me to!
Puck: SO DID I
Rita: YOU TOLD ME I COULD THAT AIN'T THE SAME THING
Puck: ... SEE THIS IS WHY YOU'RE A SCOUNDREL AND A MENACE
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brittle-doughie · 2 years
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The Spooky Cookie Tapes
Just some concepts given the time of year! I say “spooky” lightly. How are you gonna make Cookie Run scary actually?
Picture Perfect - Butter Pretzel Cookie
In a pursuit to gain perfection for Y/N Cookie’s portrait, Butter Pretzel goes to extreme measures to do so..
Five Nights, Five Dragons - The 5 Dragons
With their solitude on the line, Y/N Cookie is presented with the offer that they needed to handle 5 nights of the dragons trying to enter their home. Failure means they’ll be partnered with the dragons for eternity.
The Forest Has Eyes - Fig Cookie
On a camping trip, Y/N Cookie comes across signs of activity around the site. They soon come to realize they’re being stalked by a four legged cookie.
Prikaza - White Ghost Cookie
Joining Black Garlic Cookie in one of her haunting expeditions, Y/N Cookie catches the attention of a long departed soul who’ll do what it takes to ensure they’ll never leave..
Crash - Cyborg Cookie
Cyborg Cookie feels an emotion they have never felt before when it came to Y/N Cookie, causing their systems to override with only one goal, terminate anyone who poses a threat to these feelings for Y/N Cookie.
The Beast - Black Pearl Cookie
In a search for underwater treasures, Y/N Cookie’s boat is menaced by an underwater threat that intends to drag Y/N down with her.
Living Nightmare - Crescent Moon Cookie
Loved ones of Y/N Cookie complain of terrible nightmares they’ve been having as of recently. Y/N is stumped on these plaguing dreams until they come face to face with the source.
The Ocean Air - Sea Fairy Cookie
A sailing Y/N Cookie is captured and held for ransom by a gang of pirates. They’re warned that if they are not sent on their way soon, their lives would be in mortal danger. It’s not wise to bring harm to the cure for the water’s broken heart.
No End Hotel - Earl Grey Cookie
To shelter themselves from the rain, Y/N Cookie takes up temporary residence at the Grandmaster Hotel. Run by a hotelier who intends on letting their residence be permanent.
Snowfall - Caramel Arrow Cookie
With Caramel Arrow Cookie being missing for long enough, fellow Watcher Y/N Cookie is ordered to seek her out. In the cold, in the bitter cold….
Sick Love - Cotton Candy Cookie
Being a popular idol meant Y/N Cookie gets a bunch of fan mail. It’s only when the letter numbers start to decline that they begin to notice something is off. Especially with this reoccurring letter sent from a particular cookie..
Special Order - Sandwich Cookie
Sandwich Cookie has been able to keep Y/N Cookie at her shop with the help of a particular sandwich they fancy. When supplies to make the sandwich dry out, Sandwich must find alternatives to make it, alternatives from other cookies…
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myhauntedsalem · 3 months
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Queen Anne’s Revenge – The Flagship of Blackbeard the Pirate
Before she ran aground in 1817, Queen Anne’s Revenge haunted the waters off the Eastern United States during the early 1800s, sending fear into her victims at the mere sight of her. The ship had the ability to intimidate visually just as her Captain, William Teach did. He was more commonly known as Blackbeard the Pirate. Blackbeard himself is said to haunt the waters where he met his demise off the coast of North Carolina to this day.
Built in 1710, the British cargo ship Concord, was captured by the French shortly afterward and rechristened La Concorde. The French enlarged the ship to carry more cargo as it was used to ferry slaves to market. In 1716, La Concorde had an encounter with the pirate Benjamin Hornigold who then converted it to do battle, fitting it with 20 cannons. Hornigold terrorized the Guinea coast before setting said for the Bahamas and the Americas. It is thought that Blackbeard derived the name of the ship from Queen Anne’s War in which he participated in.
In late 1717, Horgnigold turned his ship over to one of his crew members, Edward Teach. Captain Teach renamed the ship Queen Anne’s Revenge and fitted her with twice the number of cannon, making her one of most intimidating warships of the day, a devastating weapon to be used in the name of piracy. Teach amassed a flotilla of ships, using Queen Anne’s Revenge as his flagship. His menacing appearance with a long braided beard with black bows and his reputation earned him the nickname Blackbeard. He would destroy any ship or person who resisted his attacks.
At one point in his notorious pirating run, Blackbeard and his devilish flotilla blockaded the city of Charleston, South Carolina and held it for ransom. Upon his departure from the city while fleeing pursuing ships, he hastily ran the Queen Anne’s Revenge aground while trying to enter Beaufort Inlet, North Carolina. He transferred his flag to another of his ships named Adventure, thus ending the Queen Anne’s Revenge reign of terror.
There have been no consistent reported sightings of Queen Anne’s Revenge as a phantom ship, although some claim that one of the ghostly vessels of Whites Creek off the coast of Virginia, is that of Blackbeard and his men. There are those that believe that Blackbeard hid some of his treasure there in the coastal forests and that he returns in his ship on occasion to make sure that his treasure is safe.
In 1996, a team of researchers discovered what they believe to be the remains of Queen Anne’s Revenge off the coast of North Carolina, retrieving one of the cannons, anchor, and other artifacts from the ill fated vessel. Many of the artifacts are on display at the North Carolina Maritime Museums.
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countryboyforyou2 · 5 months
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He looks like a character you’d see in an 80’s or 90’s after school special or TV program, where the naïve baby-faced rebellious teen runs away from a good home and hooks up with a group of street kids.  The story line usually involves some beef with a rival gang, until one day they spot him walking the streets alone.  A chase ensues until they finally catch up to him in a back alley where he’s grabbed by one of the bigger guys, lifted up off the ground as a big hand is clamped mouth muffling his screams for help.  As he futilely struggles against the big man’s grasp, the leader of the rival group steps forward and looks into his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and defiance and gives some typical cliched menacing line, before he’s carried off kicking and screaming.  
The next scene cuts to medium and closeup shots of him with wrists and legs bound with rope, gagged with duct wrapped perfectly around his mouth and placed on his side on top of a dingy mattress on the floor of an abandoned building captive of the rival gang. They snap a Polaroid of him and discuss what they are going to do next.   In the foreground of the shot we see them standing around formulating their ransom plot and revenge, while in the background we see him rolling around grunting and struggling against his bonds.  Having come up with their plan, the majority of them take off to deliver the message of his kidnapping and terms of an exchange, the leader of the group is left alone with our boy, casting a devious stare down at the boy.  The camera getting a closeup shot of his face, the look of fear quite apparent eyes as he shakes his head from side to side with the tape gag muffling his whimpered protest.
Now, of course the TV shows weren’t nearly as twisted, but in that moment my mind always went to the dirtiest and twisted of possibilities of what would happen next….
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dystopicjumpsuit · 5 months
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Meg Drummer!
OC Sunday: Meg Drummer (OC of @talesfrommedinastation)
Thank you for celebrating with me, and for your patience as I had an unexpectedly busy week. I'm happy I was able to get her ISB Suspect Datafile finished in time for OC Sunday, though! Meg sounds like such a badass, and every bit the menace to society that I would expect from Tech's daughter.
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Want a Datafile for your Star Wars OC? Find out how to get one here! Or check out other OC Datafiles I’ve created here!
Transcript in alt text and below the cut.
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IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
Case #68376756
Suspect Identification
Name: Omega 'Meg' Drummer
Chain Code: CT-9903, alias Tech, created on Kamino, Clone Commando: Omega Drummer, natborn within Ring Gate, aged 20
Occupation: Officer within Transport Union Defense Force under Pres. Camina Drummer; nuclear engineer
Wanted for: Kidnapping and ransoming of Imperial officers; theft of Imperial property; arson of Imperial property
Status: At Large
Criminal Profile
Criminal Activity: 93 counts of grand theft auto of Imperial cruisers and smaller battleships: 213 counts of kidnapping and ransoming of Imperial officers; 2 accounts of arson on Imperial property with the use of nuclear detonators
Arrest Record: Caught and detained on Bracca with 'Belter' associates: escaped within stolen Imperial vessel.
Known Associates: Jules Genoa (possible relative), Omega (missing clone specimen), Defunct Clone Force 99
Remarks: Repeatedly leaves the following message on all Imperial ships: "Xalte ere gova da Clonelowda!" Carries ballistic weapons unknown to Imperial sources. Is linked to multiple factions within the Rebel Alliance.
Current Location: Unknown
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