#vagabonds chapter 10

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 10 "Stranded"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

To read Chapter 9:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/741739026615353344/vagabonds-chapter-9?source=share

Word Count: 1.2K

Background: Time is running out for Hunter, Omega, and the crew of The Beldame.

Warning: Star Wars swears, Earth swears, fear, physical pain, fainting, blood, hypothermia, dog bites human, canon-typical violence.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap:

As the jovial banter continued, a group of clones stood around the window, watching the planet recede from view. 

“You think She and Little One have a chance?” 

“Much better than staying on Kamino.  The Nomaadi will take good care of ‘em.” 

“Wish I could’a stayed on the planet with ‘em.  Kriffin tired of this rat race.” 

“Miss them already...” 

“Shhh...we can’t.  At least not right NOW.”   

“Maybe sometime...in the future...” 

“Yeah, younger ones go first.” 

“Gotta be REAL careful if we smuggle any more out.” 

A hush fell among the group as the planet disappeared with only cold black space remaining. 

"Stranded"

Far out in cold black space the Dread Beldame drifted. 

After Mad had fainted and fallen to the floor, Sil turned her over. Pale and with a bruise from the fall developing on her face, he could feel the panic rising. 

“Sil...breathe...” Omega had to keep him calm. “Love?” 

The teen floated above the decking; eyes rolled back in their head. No answer. 

Hunter had finally passed out from the horrific sensory stimuli. 

Tiggy shook it off and ambled over to them whimpering. She pressed her body up against Sil to distract him. 

The lights of the Beldame began to flicker. 

“Sil! What’s going on? Are we losing power???” 

Sil snapped to, furiously stroking Tiggy. “We lost main power after the Venator exploded.” He looked terrified. “The auxillary power is starting to fail...lights, gravity...and life support.” 

Omega felt a chill go through her. “We can fix it...RIGHT???” 

“No... we need another ship to hook up to the ‘Dame for recharge and repair.” 

“It’ll be ok, Sil. The Marauder will be here soon!” 

Sil shook his head. “Omega...the explosion pushed us parsecs away from Ord Mantell.” He got up, leaving Mad and Tiggy to check ships comm. He found them inoperable, then stared out into the blackness of space. 

“I... recognize SOME of these stars. No planets or any other large landmarks. But we’ll continue to drift farther out.” He looked resigned to their fate. “Without coordinates, or a way to radio them, it’s going to be near impossible.” 

“Tech and Echo WILL find us!” Omega was hopeful...but she was also scared. 

The lights dimmed again and stayed at half capacity. 

“It’s going to get VERY cold here soon, Omega. And we need to conserve oxygen best we can.” Sil opened a panel and pulled out insulation blankets and oxygen face masks. 

Omega and Sil pulled Hunter, Mad, Love, Tiggy and each other close into a warm huddle, donned their oxygen masks, and hoped for the best. 

Echo and Tech furiously checked as many comm channels as possible to hail the Beldame. 

Techs voice was rising, “I cannot find them on ANY channel!” 

Echo was starting to worry, but couldn’t concentrate... 

“You stink!” Echo wrinkled up his face. “Get in the refresher, Wrecker!!!  Pick up your armor, too.” 

“Wait” interjected Tech “Who was that clone with you in the sewer tunnel?” 

Echo perked up and turned around in his seat “Another clone on Ord Mantell other than Rex???” 

“He called himself Riffraff.  Escaped off world after Order 66.” 

Echo smiled from ear to ear, “Thank the Maker!  Vod made it.” 

“You know him?” Tech inquired, still checking comm channels, trying not to panic. 

“Yeah, he was a shiny I met from another unit just before joining the Batch.  Good kid, he had promise.” 

“He looked SO OLD though.  Didn’t recognize him as a clone at first.” Wrecker was shocked.  

“I agree with Wrecker, he must have aged to look like a first-generation clone with all the adversity he witnessed during Order 66 and after.  He said he was staying behind to gain intel for a growing rebellion.” Tech’s brow creased stressfully. “STILL cannot hail the Beldame.” 

“Wrecker, shower!” Echo ordered.

“I’M GOIN’! GEEZ!!!” 

“Well, I hope he accomplishes his goal.  The galaxy really needs a strong rebellion.  Maybe more of our brothers will join the fight.”  Echo looked hopeful.  “Inhibitor chips be damned.” 

“I’m worried about the crew of the Beldame” Tech looked to Echo.  “Without a functioning shield they may not have escaped.” 

Echo shook his head, “I REFUSE to even consider that an option.” 

Darkness penetrated the Beldame. A thin coating of frost covered the huddled, blanketed crew. Omega and Sil were shivering violently from the cold. Love, Mad, and Hunter were still out, but breathing and warm...for now. 

Tiggy, being small and warmly nestled within the center of the group squiggled up through the bodies. She climbed up on Sil’s chest and pressed her canine head against his forehead.  

He felt a strange presence in his mind. The pitter patter of little paws though his thoughts...was the best he could recall. Sil was too weak to care. Concentrating on this was better than the agony of slowly freezing to death. 

“...mega?” Was the best he could muster. 

“Mmm...” She was barely there. He pulled her closer, trying to keep her warm with his body heat. 

How much oxygen did they have left? Even with the masks...it couldn’t last forever. Was it the low oxygen levels or the cold causing them to fight to stay awake? 

Tiggy crawled away from Sil and pulled herself up to Love, who was still levitating, but tied up close to their group for warmth. She whimpered and scratched at Love’s chest. No response. She barked. 

“Tiggy, leave it.” Sil tiredly commanded. 

The puppy whimpered and whined...then bit Love on the chin, drawing blood. 

Love’s eyes popped open with the pain response. 

“Tiggy, NO!”  

Omega intervened. “Sil...I think Tiggy is trying to do something.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t know...” 

Couzin? Love’s eyes rolled back in their head. 

Tiggy bit Love again. HARDER. 

Love’s eye focused on the pup. Oh...can’t...too weak... 

Then Tiggy MASHED her head up against Love’s. Her little tail wagging furiously. Omega and Sil watched closely. 

For what, they didn’t know. 

Bubbles filled the refresher shower. Wrecker scrubbed away at the stink on his skin. On his third wash to finally be rid of it. 

Plunging his face under the faucet a tune wound an earworm into his head.  

Wrecker hadn’t turned on his holotunes, but an oddly discordant song kept repeating in his head. More like a repeating snippet of a song...with some percussion. 

It became stronger. Then Wrecker started to hum...over...and over. Tapped his foot even. 

He finished, dried off, dressed. Still humming the tune, tapping the percussion now with his knuckle on the bunkroom wall. 

Wrecker wandered to the cockpit... 

...humming... 

...tapping... 

Echo and Tech were backtracking coordinates, retrying comm channels, plotting hyperspace lanes...concerned for the worst. 

“Like they just disappeared!” Echo furrowed his brow. 

“Echo...I think we MIGHT have to entertain the idea...” Tech eyed his brother with concern. 

“NO!” 

...humming... 

...tapping... 

“I know it’s difficult to consider...Echo...” 

“I WON’T accept that they may be...” 

...humming... 

...tapping... 

Tech swung his chair around to look at Wrecker. 

Wrecker was grooving along to some type of internal tune. Humming along and tapping on the Marauder’s interior wall. It wasn’t exactly musical, but Wrecker didn’t seem to mind, eyes closed, and he just kept on jamming along. 

Echo took Tech’s lead and watched Wrecker for a few moments.  

“WRECKER!” Echo shouted. 

“WHAAAAT?” 

“Why are you tapping out Basic Standard Code?” 

Wrecker shrugged. “Stuck in my head...can’t stop.” 

“Keep going, Wrecker.” Tech urged, rubbing his chin. 

They watched Wrecker repeat the humming and tapping over and over. 

Echo broke the silence, “DEFINITELY BSC! The message keeps repeating. Don’t know what the other part is...” 

Tech interrupted excitedly. “Notes on the musical scale!” 

Tech repeated the Basic Alphabet that corresponded with the notes to Echo. 

“With the Basic Standard Code...” Echo started the sentence... 

...and Tech finished it, “They’re coordinates!” 

They both spun their seats around and immediately engaged the Marauder. 

Wrecker stopped humming and tapping. “YOU’RE WELCOME!” 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 11:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744912201871245312/vagabonds-chapter-11?source=share

[elizabeth-holland24]

The Beast Within

Jake "Hangman" Serisin x Reader

He once had it all—riches, friends, fame—yet it was never enough. If only he’d seen the truth before it was too late. Now, everything has changed, and the blame lies squarely on his shoulders.

You’ve always lived with a quiet sense that something was missing, though you could never quite say what. When your father doesn’t return from a trip, concern drives you toward an unknown fate. What you find may be the adventure you’ve longed for—or the unravelling of secrets that were meant to stay forgotten.

A/N: This is my first time writing something like this or doing a challenge of the sorts, so please bear with me if it's not the best. Also, English is my second language and I speak 5, so if sometimes make mistakes or confuse words, please tell me respectfully so that I can improve. In addition, I'm still new to Tumblr, so I don't really know how to completely work it, so be patient with me. I am pretty excited to show you guys my take on my favourite fairy tale with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. I really hope you like it and enjoy it. Also, a small shoutout to @arcane-vagabond since she's the one that created this challenge and actually her work inspires me so much with how she writes and is able to transport you to other worlds. So yeah, without further outdo, thank you and hope you enjoy.

Juberous: adjective: Doubtful; undecided; hesitating.

Series;

Prologue (Published)

Chapter 1 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Published)

Chapter 2 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Published)

Chapter 3 (Published)

Chapter 4 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Published)

Chapter 5 (Published)

Chapter 6 (Published)

Chapter 7 (Published)

Chapter 8 (Published)

Chapter 9 (Part 1) (Part 2) (Published)

Chapter 10 (Published)

Chapter 11 (Published)

Chapter 12 (Published)

Chapter 13 (Coming Soon)

Epilogue (Coming Soon)

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: A Few Minutes Won't Hurt

Summary: Alternative Title: Repressed Baptist Seduces Menace to Society. I said I would post the smut chapter in CH.13 of For Your Own Good if that chapter got 10 reviews, and I got those within like 2 hours. Well, I'm an author of my word(s), so here's your NSFW Fiddlestan content. Cross-posted on AO3 Here.

One shot from my other work, "For Your Own Good", but you don't necessarily need to read it first to read this.

Rating: E for language and sexual content. Also this whole thing is just smut with some plot and feelings.

WARNING: TW/ Mentioned past sexual abuse.

Of all the things Fiddleford thought he was willing to do to help his dear friend and colleague Stanford, seducing his identical twin brother to buy time while he fixed the houses power grid was not one of them.

While Stanford didn't ask him to do this specifically, he had asked him to distract Stan just long enough for him to get the power back up. And what else was he to do?

Drugging him was an option, but keeping him here against his will was already morally objectionable, he didn't want to add drugging him against his will (again) too. He had at least some standards here compared to Ford. Plus, Stan had an alarmingly high tolerance to substances anyways. He still shivered in remembrance of the crushed Ambien incident.

Brute force was also an option, but Fiddleford had no weapons on him. Hand-to-hand combat? Fiddleford was a lot stronger than his willowy build would lead others to believe. He grew up on a farm with hogs, and he had the strength to back it up. But Stan was a fighter - not just a fighter, but someone who's lived the past decade having to fight to survive. Fiddleford has personally seen what a rat in a corner can turn into, and he wasn't going to see what happened when the same thing happened with an adult man who was bigger than him. Not to mention, on the way downstairs, Fiddleford saw the man had already grabbed the items Ford had confiscated from him when he was brought in the first time, which included a switchblade and pair of knuckle dusters. It didn’t matter how strong Fiddleford was, when he was completely unarmed and Stan was most definitely not.

Reasoning with him?

There was no reasoning with him - and what could Fiddleford possibly tell him? That he needed to be held captive against his will in some mad scientist's basement in the middle of the woods? Stan couldn't even be convinced Stanford was really his twin and they looked almost exactly the same.

So that left, as Stan so eloquently put it, a 'honey trap'. Stan had been flirting with him relentlessly since they met and Fiddleford had to bet all of his chips on the chance that Stan was actually attracted to him, and not just doing it to mess with him. Although not a betting man, Fiddleford must have made the right bet because now he was pinned against the wall, chest-to-chest with one wrist being held over his head, and a chapped pair of lips against his own.

Maybe, just maybe, Fiddleford was just looking for an excuse…

Given Stan's initial aggression, Fiddleford had fully expected the vagabond to go all-in on this encounter - with tongue, teeth, groping, and all. Yet, Stan was only kissing him - firm, but not rough, and no tongue. The grip on his wrist wasn't even hard, almost like it was a suggestion or invitation. With the power out, most of the lights in the basement laboratory were also out, but there were just enough autonomously-powered machines down there to keep them out of the pitch dark.

Stan put his remaining hand on Fiddlefords shoulder and lightly pushed it down, exposing more of his neck. He withdrew from the kiss and started instead planting butterfly kisses on the engineer's neck and throat. Just enough pressure to make Fiddleford feel hot under the collar, but not enough to leave marks.

Flustered at this almost romantic treatment, Fiddleford wrapped his free arm around Stan's waist, pulling him closer- close enough to rub their crotches together. Fiddleford had already undone his belt and zipper, leaving his trousers halfway down his thighs with only his briefs covering him, while Stan was still fully dressed save for his hoodie which he'd slid off earlier.

He noted Stan stiffened up for a second, but then relaxed again. Curious. He was so eager about this, and yet he was showing some signs of what seemed to be apprehension. Fiddleford would have to keep an eye on that, he wasn't going to do this if Stan actually didn't want to.

Stan nuzzled his chin and then moved onto trailing kisses along his jaw.

Fiddleford chuckled and turned his head to peck his lips "Stan," he teased with a heavy breath "I didn't realize you were such a gentleman."

Stan didn't respond, instead letting go of Fiddlefords wrist, which quickly moved down to hold the other man's hip.

"May I?" Fiddleford asked, thumbing the hem of his jeans - Stan didn't wear a belt, likely because of his thicker gut. Stan nodded, and took a step back.

Fiddleford turned them around so Stan's back was against the wall instead, and he was in front of him. Licking his lips a bit, Fiddleford undid the button and zipper of Stan's jeans before kneeling down and yanking both his jeans and boxers down to his knees.

A slight, full-body tremour ran through Stan's body and he almost seemed to back up even more against the wall as he was exposed. He wasn't completely hard yet, but his tip had a generous bead of precum already forming.

Fiddleford licked his lips again- usually this wasn't something he did, because his throat was sensitive, but given Stan's other actions so far he doubted he was going to try to face fuck him like so many other guys tended to do.

Fiddleford licked him from base to tip, before eagerly engulfing just the head. He didn't want to start off with too much all at once, he wanted to savour this a little bit. He heard Stan gasp aloud but abruptly stop.

He looked up as he slowly took in more of his length- he was surprised to see Stan had slapped his hand over his mouth, presumably to keep quiet. He was looking down at Fiddleford however, and when their eyes met his face turned an interesting shade of red and his eyes rounded out just slightly, almost like he didn't expect Fiddleford to look at him at all.

Fiddleford took in about half of him - that was enough to ease his throat for a moment, and he could feel the appendage swell and stiffen under his ministrations, giving him a perverted sense of pride.

He felt Stan place a hand on top of his head, and he quickly exhaled through his nose as he mentally prepared himself to be fucked in the throat and his hair to be yanked. Which was always fun, but he preferred taking his time.

However, that isn't what happened. Thick, calloused fingers tangled into his sandy blond locks, but not enough to pull at his scalp, and instead began stroking his hair back. Hesitant at first, before finding a clear rhythm to follow.

It was Fiddlefords turn to blush. All of this gentleness was the exact opposite of what he expected from Stan and he almost felt guilty for even assuming the vagabond would be rough or demanding. Fiddleford shoved his free hand down his briefs and gripped his own member, palming himself best he could in his current position.

Humming, he started to bob his head - slowly at first, but picking up pace after a few tests on his throat. He internally pouted that the only response he was receiving was well-muffled noises he had to strain to hear.

Fiddleford pulled his mouth off of Stan's dick, leaving an obscene string of saliva between himself and the weeping tip. "Stan," he said, looking up at the other man, who seemed confused, "I want to hear you." When a look of uncertainty crossed the vagabond's eyes, he added "There isn't anyone down here besides you and me, and the cameras don’t work right now, it's okay."

Stan slowly removed his hand from covering his mouth, and Fiddleford flashed him a small approving smile before quickly swallowing down most of his length in one movement.

"Fuck-!" Stan gasped, his tone so surprised and lewd it made it worth Fiddlefords now stimulated gag reflex. Fiddleford felt himself harden up even more and he jerked himself with even more vigor. It'd be a good time now to switch to the main act, but it sure would be a shame if he didn't get a taste... especially with that deep, pretty moaning egging him on like this.

Though his hand movements stayed light and affectionate, Stan began to shake and stutter "-F, g-gonna-... I-Im close."

Fiddleford used the hand on Stan's hip to press him against the wall as far as he could, while taking his entire member, gag reflex be damned. Stan practically cried out as he cummed, and Fiddleford swallowed it all eagerly even if he had to cough a bit because of his now angry throat. It took a few strokes for Fiddleford to follow him in release, and his hand was cramping because he hadn't pulled himself out of his underwear to do so but he couldn't force himself to care about that right now.

Fiddleford slowly pulled off, feeling Stan's fingers continue to stroke his hair, albeit a bit clumsily with the aftershocks still wracking his body. "Y-You're pretty good at that, stretch." The brunet chuckled breathily, and Fiddleford felt his own face go hot "What else are you good at?"

Swiftly wiping his mouth with his lab coat sleeve, Fiddleford stood up again and cupped Stan's cheek with his hand, lightly rubbing his jaw with his thumb, which Stan leaned into almost unconsciously, his pupils dilating even further.

Fiddleford brought his face close to Stan's, close enough to feel each other's heavy breaths. "You're just the sweetest thing - like a summer peach. How about I show what else I can do?"  He offered, boldly moving his hand from Stan's hip down to his ass.

Stan breathed out a small laugh "Think you could handle me?"

"Only if you want me to."

Stan relaxed a bit more at that "All yours, specs... You got a condom?"

"Yes-" Fiddleford hastily felt around his jeans for his wallet, and after fumbling a moment Stan got a thoughtful look in his eye before reaching down to his own discarded jeans and sheepishly handing the engineer the wallet. "You stole my wallet while I was-"

"Force of habit. Sorry." Stan apologized, though Fiddleford doubted this would hinder him from doing it again in the future.

Rolling his eyes, Fiddleford rifled through it for a condom, which he quickly produced "Do you have lube?" He asked thoughtfully, though he doubted it. He personally wasn't against using spit but he knew it wasn't that effective.

"Don't need it." Stan answered a bit too quickly. When Fiddleford gave him a curious look, he added "I had some fun in the bathroom while you guys were gone."

"Is that all you do when you're left to your devices?" Fiddleford teased, even as felt his lower regions twitch back to life at the implication. "I must say I'm almost intimidated to be entertaining someone so... voracious."

"Did you eat a dictionary for breakfast this morning, specs?" Stan teased back, rolling his eyes "I don't exactly have a lot of stuff I can do down here… bathroom’s the only private place."

Fiddleford leaned his head against Stan's shoulder and gave himself a few tugs to harden up again- just enough to properly apply the condom. Through the contact he could feel and hear the other man's breath hitch, and his heart rate increasing further. But he also started to... shiver? Just a little, subtle enough Fiddleford wouldn't have been able to see it, but enough he could feel it while being so physically close.

"Wait." Stan said as he abruptly put his hands on Fiddlefords shoulders just as Fiddleford finished applying the condom, not to push him away, just to get his attention. Fiddleford glanced back up at him to see his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"What's wrong darlin?" He asked.

"Nothings 'wrong'," Stan insisted, but paused "you... You're nice, right? You'll be nice?"

"Nice...?" Fiddleford blinked in confusion.

"You're not going to try to fuck me so hard I'll bleed?" Stan clarified, and there was a grim edge to his tone, like asking Fiddleford to not hurt him was an exception and not a rule "You'll... stop if I asked you to?" There was hesitation when he asked, as if he was overstepping and asking for a favour.

Fiddlefords eyes widened "Of course- Stan of course I would stop if you wanted to stop! Why would you think..." He trailed off when Stan's eyes almost seemed to dull, and grew a bit shiny, a hint of tears.

"I was in prison, Fiddleford." He explained, slowly, strained, "The guys there aren't like you... they don't ask. They're not nice."

"..." In spite of the compromising position and state of undress they were in, Fiddleford straightened up and pulled Stan into a tight hug, which surprised Stan but he didn't push him away "Oh Stan," he said, kissing his cheek lightly "I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that. No one deserves that."

Breath slightly shaky, Stan didn’t return the embrace, but hid his face against Fiddlefords hair. Considering Stan’s tendency to talk about various traumatic experiances as if it were a joke or a point of pride, this must have been the first true moment of vulnerability the vagabond had allowed himself in who knows how long. At least, the first one that Fiddleford had seen himself.

"We don't have to do this, we can stop here." Fiddleford assured him, but Stan shook his head.

"I want to- I want you. I like you a lot. I just... I don't want it to be like the other times..."

Fiddleford nodded and pecked his cheek again. "Okay... I'm going to pick you up and we can do this against the wall, is that alright with you?"

Stan quirked a brow "I'm fine with that position, but are you sure? I'm not light." True, not only was Fiddleford considerably thinner, but despite one of Stan's nicknames for him being ‘stretch’, he was also a touch shorter than both of the Stan twins.

“Saddle up, city boy.” Fiddleford said with a wink, before abruptly grabbing Stan by the hips and lifting him straight off of his feet, balancing him between the leaning forward of his own hips and the wall.

“Woah- ah.” Stan briefly gasped in surprise before quickly throwing his arms over Fiddlefords neck, and his legs around his hips, clinging for what he perceived to be dear life. But Fiddleford didn’t seem to struggle holding him up at all, as though he were as light as a feather. “I-if you fucking drop me…”

“I won’t, don’t you worry none.” Fiddleford assured. When he was sure Stan was holding onto him tightly enough, and leaned forward so he could have him more properly pinned between himself and a wall, he let go of him with one hand - pausing to make sure Stan wasn’t unbalanced - and reached down to grasp onto his own cock. He was still a bit sensitive and flaccid from his recent orgasm, but that was going to change very soon. “Are you ready? This might sting a little.”

Stan just nodded, still keeping his arms over Fiddlefords neck but leaning back slightly, trying to keep his body as slack as possible, allowing the engineer to slip inside of him with little resistance, though Stan did still hiss slightly through his teeth.

“Lord have- mphh.” Fiddleford moaned as he pushed up, pulling Stan down enough to where he could be fully hilted. He felt very soft inside- and so, so warm. He could tell from the few times they’d physically interacted before this that Stan ran a bit hot, but nothing like this. It was enough to make his head dizzy, enough for a rare swear word to slip out of him “Fuck, you feel good.”

“You too.” Stan muttered next to his ear, before burying his face into Fiddlefords neck. For a moment they both just stayed like that so Stan could adjust to the intrusion properly. After a few moments, Fiddleford rolled his hips upward, softly, experimentally, and when Stan gave him a slight hum of approval, he continued to do so with more vigor.

Gravity did most of the work for him, he could push Stan upward as softly as he wanted but he always came down much harder and that was the friction that was driving the engineer insane. It didn’t take long for Fiddleford to start snapping his hips up in tandem with the other man coming down on him. He would have started pulling him down if he didn’t remember Stan’s anxiety about being treated rough.

Stan shifted his arms from over Fiddlefords neck so he could cup his face with his hands- his eyes were still as impish as ever, but they were hazed over, Fiddleford could only register that fog as lust before Stan pulled his face in so they could kiss again. Fiddleford fluttered his eyes closed and breathed heavily through his nose as he daringly introduced tongue- something which Stan allowed this time around.

As sweet as Stan;s more romantic inclinations were, Fiddleford was honestly very pent up. Yes, he’ll admit privately to himself at this moment - might as well, he was balls deep in the other man - that yes, he had been using the honey trap as an excuse. Stan had been so relentless with his attention and flirting that it’d been increasingly difficult to not feel a certain way about it in these past weeks.

Stan was crude and used dark humour to cover his multitude of trauma’s, and he made it no secret he was an unabashed scoundrel who would jump right back into criminal mischief the minute he could. And his uncanny resemblance to Stanford had made Fiddleford a bit uneasy at first - how could he possibly be attracted to someone who looked exactly like his best friend? What did that say about Fiddleford? And there was the most glaring issue of Fiddleford being an accomplice to Stanford holding Stan prisoner against his will.

Wanting to have sex with your best friends identical twin? That was bad enough. Wanting to have sex with someone you were holding captive in a basement in the middle of the woods? That was just immoral, unethical, and illegal. 

Those issues didn’t go away, per se, with this encounter. But there wasn’t anything Fiddleford could do to physically keep Stan from tossing him aside like a tumbleweed and just leaving, so Stan had only agreed to a quickie because he wanted to. If that really wasn’t the case, Fiddleford didn’t think he could forgive himself.

But it was really difficult for the sinner to hate the sin when said sin was this tight and hot around his dick, stimulating the nerves in his groin so much that shocks of pleasure shot up and clouded any thoughts Fiddleford had involving logic and ethics.

“Hey, you.” A flick against his temple brought him back out of his head, he could see that Stan had separated from the kiss and they were just panting each others hot breaths again “Pay attention to me, won’t cha?”

When all Fiddleford could do was nod dumbly and snap his hips up and not respond with actual words because absolutely no blood was going to his brain, Stan let out a shaky laugh - pretty close to a yelp given its timing with a particularly steep thrust - before grabbing his shoulders and pushing at them slightly to get his attention.

“Y-You’re pretty tightly wound, huh? Lemme do some of the work here.” Stan offered, and motioned behind both of them “Sit in that chair and I’ll ride you.” Fiddleford nodded and made sure he had a tight grip over him before walking a few feet backwards - Stan was not a fan of this - until he was seated in the chair.

“You coulda just put me down…” Stan huffed, although this didn’t deter him from scooting up a bit before sinking back down, letting out a pleased sigh as he took in all of Fiddleford, and pausing. Fiddleford gripped Stan’s hips with both of his hands, tempted to start moving him himself but deciding to instead watch what the other man would do. 

Stan at first grinded his hips down in a small, circular motion, before beginning to lift himself up, and then dropping back down while tightening around him, making them both moan in unison. Keeping one hand on Fiddlefords shoulder, he moved his other hand down to stroke himself in time with his movements.

“Was this- hhah- what you were thinkin’ bout earlier?” Fiddleford began, voice straining to stay even “When you were diddlin yourself?”

Stan paused abruptly and really seemed to consider stopping entirely before continuing his current movements, jolting slightly in pleasure when Fiddleford thrusted upward into him just as he was moving down “Th-that country accent is cute and all, but if you say that word again I’m out.” He chided gruffly, still actively palming his wet and swollen member.

“Not answering my question, darlin.” Fiddleford teased a bit, though he knew he was pushing his luck against Stan’s patience, so he didn’t tease any further when Stan didn’t answer. Maybe after the fact.

Pressure built up in his lower abdomen, good pressure, and Fiddleford felt like a knot being pulled as taut as possible, about to snap-

“Oh f-fuck I’m gonna fucking cum.” Stan practically whined out, unknowingly voicing his partners thoughts. His movements on Fiddleford became uneven and frantic and as did his hand around his dick, his eyes rounding out but his pupils constricting as he became wholly focused on reaching that peak. Tightening his non dominant hand on Stan’s hip. Fiddleford reached over with his other hand to replace Stan’s, taking over his rough jerking with a firm but more delicate touch, much easier with all of the precum he was leaking out.

“Loooord, Stan-. L-like that, just like that-.” Fiddleford rambled, his entire body and especially his face burning “You’re doin so good- you feel so good, I don’t wanna stop-.” If he weren’t so busy pitching woo, Fiddleford might have noted how strange it was that Stan had dug his hands into his hoodie pockets and taking them out just as quickly, but it was so quick he might not have noticed anyways. 

Fiddleford was the first to cum this time, causing him to tighten his grip over Stan's length as he impulsively rolled his hips for friction to ride out his orgasm, it sent Stan down the same cascade of release; Fiddleford coming with almost a shout, and Stan with a moan similar to a deep sigh.

Fiddleford hadn’t even started coming down from the high of peaking before Stan abruptly shoved his mouth against him, while also grabbing his wrists and pinning them down on the armrests on either side of the chair. The roughness surprised Fiddleford, but maybe this is just how Stan got right before the afterglow? Regardless, Fiddleford wasn’t complaining, he simply fluttered his eyelids closed and returned the kiss; despite the aggressive entrance, the kiss itself was as gentle and almost chaste as the ones they’d started with. 

Riiip

"Uh-? Huh?” Fiddleford broke away from the kiss at the strange, sharp sound he heard to his left; he looked over to his left to see that his hand on that side was now zip-tied to the armrest, before he could react properly he heard the same ripping sound as before and looked over bewildered to see Stan had just finished securing another ziptie on his other wrist, rending Fiddleford stuck to the chair and unable to free either of his wrists.

“I’m really sorry about this.” Stan muttered as he pulled off of him; he kneeled down to reach over to tuck Fiddleford’s now flaccid cock back into his pants, and quickly re-doing his fly and belt for him. Once he finished with that, he walked over to his own discarded pair of boxers and jeans and yanked them both back onto himself.

“Wait.” Fiddleford almost stammered “Did you just-? Why?”

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you specs.” Stan said as he dressed himself again, and in spite of what they’d just been doing less than a minute before, Fiddleford felt himself flush. “You’re more devious than I thought you were. Unfortunately, you weren’t going to out-scheme me.” With the nearby sink, Stan quickly washed his hands and wetted some paper towels, and briskly walked back to wipe up the cum he’d practically sprayed onto Fiddlefords chest. 

 “Did you plan this?”

“I probably woulda fought you if you tried stopping me in other ways.” Stan admitted “But I told ya, honey traps are one of the oldest tricks in the book. A reverse honey trap? People don't see that one coming, not even smart ones like you.”

Fiddleford huffed to himself - on one hand, he did feel some humiliation for his own plan backfiring against him; on the other hand, it was Stan's cleverness and gile that had endeared him to the vagabond in the first place. “So what was that to you, then?”

Stan was still kneeling in front of him, pausing right after he tossed the dirty paper towels into the nearby wastebasket. For his part, he did look conflicted. “I meant what I said earlier, Fiddleford.” He told him, standing up just enough to lean over and kiss his cheek “I like you a lot. And I had a great time with you just now. But I didn’t break out of five prisons just to rot in some mad scientist's basement, no matter how hot his assistant is.”

Fiddleford felt his heart skip a beat. The whole time Stan had been down here, he went out of his way to not use his or Stanford’s names, he went out of his way to exclusively refer to them by nicknames. But one particular behavioral quirk Fiddleford noticed in Stan was that he did know their names, but he would only use them if he was being sincere. Given his unscrupulous disposition, that wasn’t often. 

“I like you too, Stan. I’m not saying that to trick you or keep you here.” Fiddleford replied, Stan nodded and briefly pecked his temple before standing fully upright and taking a few steps back.

“I wish we coulda met some other way, but I’m glad I did meet you. In the future, if you ever make friends who aren’t insane, and I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, we should meet up again. If you want to.” Stan turned heel and started his way up the stairs and out of the basement.

Fiddleford didn’t have a response; what could he possibly say? He’d played a game and lost because he underestimated the other player. 

He waited for Stan to be out of earshot, before muttering out loud to himself. “Stanford owes me after this… He owes me big time.”

Just as he finished that sentiment, all of the lights flickered on, and many machines whirred back to life. The power was restored.

The End… Go Home.

[the-bar-sinister]

A Song for Ragpickers and Urchins (42620 words) by VickytheSnake, Dave Strider Chapters: 10/10

Summary: When a small-time band of young rogues and thieves take in a lost and lonely fallen noble their twisted star finally begins to rise. Urchins, vagabonds and slaves take up a scoundrel's life under a common banner— the jolly roger Donquixote— to claw their way to something like happiness in the miserable, cold-hearted factory towns of the North Blue.

-

During their time on Morey Pier the Donquixote family developed an easy and familiar way with one another in terms of physical affection, especially when it came to Doffy, and this pleased him to no end. He knew that outsiders would not understand them, but he didn't care. No, that wasn't quite true. He did care in that it pleased him to be different; to be set apart from the common rabble. In his mind his family and the way they behaved were simply above the understanding of average peons.

Doffy now felt that he had taken his first steps into manhood, and his thirteenth birthday made that milestone official. The birthday itself had been a glorious and terrible occasion, marking Doffy's ascension in fire and in blood. With only a week to go before their new pirate ship would arrive, they had sailed back to the island where Doffy had met them for the first time and together they had laid the town and its murderous, pitiless people to waste and to ruin. 

There was something triumphal in it. It was the end of a chapter of Doffy's life. It was the fulfillment of his promise, the promise he had made in that other night of fire and blood, when he had lost his eye. The promise that he would kill everyone. He had kept it. When the celebration of his birthday was finally done, not a soul who had done him wrong remained alive.

It had been beautiful. It had been splendid. A happy birthday, indeed, and his family had joked and laughed; they had feasted and drunk, and had played games and enjoyed one another's company in the ruined town.

It hadn't been enough to satisfy the dark, gnawing hole inside of Doflamingo. 

His vengeance had been as sweet as good wine, but it hadn't stopped his nightmares, or dulled the ache of the loss of his brother. If anything, by the time that they all returned to Morey Pier to wait out the few days before their ship would come in, both of those had returned in abundance, sharper than ever.

Doffy would no longer sleeping alone at all, thanks to that. Instead, he spent each night in one of the others' beds, smothering himself under their affections.

On the final night before the ship's arrival Doffy slept huddled against the long curve of Trebol's body, shifting restlessly against his silk pajamas, and weighed down under the shared thick stack of covers.

His tossing and turning woke Trebol, who gently pushed his fingers through Doffy's sweaty hair. "Hey, hey, Doffy, you're dreaming again. Wake up."

Doffy made a soft noise, almost like a dying bird, and clutched at Trebol's pajamas burying his face in his chest and breathing hard.

"It's okay. It's okay, Doffy, I'm here," Trebol reassured him, holding him tightly. "It was a dream."

Doffy took big, shuddering breaths, and clutched him, nodding. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head against Trebol's chest. He'd barely been asleep, but he'd still been dreaming. Been dreaming of his birthday, which mingled sickly with dreams of the mob. He dreamed that Rosi had been in town on his birthday, and that by mistake they'd…

A choked noise escaped his throat instead of words.

Hearing that, Trebol sat up and gathered Doffy in his arms, into his lap. "Come on, it's almost morning anyway. No need to keep trying to sleep, eh?"

"Okay."

Doffy let Trebol lift him, coddling him and murmuring gentle reassurances as he picked him up, and offering him the bottle of wine from the bedside. Doffy sipped from it carefully, trying to banish the images from his mind. Rosi's face in terror, covered in blood, his eyes hidden by matted hair.

He tried to focus on now, instead. On the way Trebol's boney arms were still strong enough to hold him– forever, he hoped– on the taste of the wine; warm and slightly sour. In the echo of their footsteps down the hall of the old manor house as they headed down to the kitchen.

"We'll be leaving this place tomorrow," he murmured as Trebol carried him down the stairs. "We probably won't see it again."

"No indeed," Trebol agreed. He paused to light the lamp in the main hall. "The workers will certainly loot it, after we're gone. Whatever we leave to them. Will you miss it, Doffy?"

"Not really. There are good memories here, but places are just… places. It's the people who are important, and we're all leaving together."

It helped to remind himself of that. To banish long-gone, probably-dead Rosi with the reminder that his new family, his real family would always be with him. Would never leave him. Would never let him down when it really mattered. And tomorrow, they were starting a great new adventure together as pirates.

"Ah, young master, always wise beyond your years." Trebol chuckled softly and set Doffy down in one of the kitchen chairs, lighting up the lamps in that room too, and casting them both in their warm glow. "Would you like some fruit juice? Or shall I go wake Dia so he can make us some coffee?"

"Let him sleep." Doffy waved his hand, resting his chin on one arm against the table. "Juice is fine for now."

Most of the stuff in the kitchen was already packed up; charmed by Dia's devil fruit power, and rolled up neatly to save space. They'd even decided to take along some of the furniture like that, including the armchair that Trebol had gotten very attached to.

That too, helped push away the lingering anxiety of the dream. Helped slow the thudding heart in his chest. Helped soften the ache, the wish to go back. To do something differently.

There wasn't anything he could have done differently. There wasn't anything he should have done differently. He'd done everything right.

He had done everything right, and this was where it had led him.

And now he was going to go on a great adventure, and become a pirate.

And now– right now– he was going to climb back into Trebol's lap and have some juice. 

It would be sweeter than the wine for certain.

-

When Dia came whistling cheerfully down into the kitchen that morning, he was only slightly surprised to see Doffy and Trebol already sitting there. He didn't even have to ask; he just met Trebol's gaze, and got a little nod in return.

Nightmares again.

He sighed, and rustled Doffy's hair on his way to the stove to get the coffee going. "Morning, you two. Big day today, yeah?"

Doffy straightened from where he'd been slumped in Trebol's lap and turned on that bright smile of his. "Yeah! We're finally gonna be real pirates!"

Trebol chuckled. "So we are, so we are. Once Pica and Corazon get down here, we'll go over the plan one more time."

"Haven't we been over it enough?" Dia teased. While the coffee kettle was heating, he started frying some eggs. "I think I could walk through it in my sleep. Ain't exactly complicated."

"Hey, hey we don't want to screw it up and spoil Doffy's excitement, now do we?"

"Alright, alright, you got me there."

-

Later that morning Doffy grinned widely at Vergo from across the table in the kitchen. It was still strewn with dishes from breakfast. No one had cleaned them up since they were going to be leaving. Why bother?

"Are you ready to be a pirate?" 

Vergo's foot thunked against the leg of the table again as he swung it back and forth, the light catching his glasses as he put his fingers to his chin. "Maybe. Though I don't know if I really look like a pirate yet." 

"Hmm…" Doffy considered it. On the whole, he probably didn't look much like a pirate yet either. "How do you think we should change that?"

"Don't they usually wear big hats? Though those get in the way, don't they?" Vergo mused slowly, his brow knitting.

This was an important question.

"Well, Dia wears a big hat," Doffy mused, tapping his lip. "But I always kinda felt like they get in the way, yeah."

"He might be the most piratey of all of us at the moment," Vergo bobbed his head. "So let's skip them. They're his thing. Maybe we'll just have to make a flag instead. Wear it on everything." 

"We already have a flag, remember?" Doffy nudged Vergo's foot gently with his own under the table, as he reminded him. Diamante had made it, to Doffy's specifications, and presented it at his birthday. "But I love the idea of wearing it on everything!"

"Oh…" Vergo rubbed the back of his neck—his spotty memory acting up again. "Yeah, that's right. I remember it. The big smile. We should put it on shirts and buckles and stuff." 

Doffy rested his foot against Vergo's. His little memory issues were endearing, if silly, usually. But he got mad when he thought about why they happened. He put the anger away for now, and focused on his excitement.

"We should put it on everything!" Doffy agreed. "You'll wear it, right? And you'll call me 'captain'?"

"I'll wear it on everything ya want me to wear it on," Vergo nodded firmly, before his smile grew on his face. "Of course, Captain. Captain Doffy." 

Doffy's smile grew wider, too.

-

Pica stood lookout for the ship on the hill behind the manor, spy-glass in hand. A chill went through him when he finally saw it crest the horizon, the Bully Whim's stout, heavily armed profile reminded him too much of the old fishing ship that he and Vergo had been enslaved on.

But that was years ago. He was far stronger now, bigger, and more practiced at violence and killing. The captain on this ship– brutal and foolish as Trebol described him– would be summarily stomped into paste, and then Doflamingo would be the ship's new captain. 

He was looking forward to Doffy being their captain. That was exciting. Doffy would be the captain, and Pica would be an officer, and have his own crew to boss around. Doffy had even been talking about putting him in charge of the ship's weapons and that was very exciting.

Pica picked up the pace as he rushed down the hill to tell everyone to get ready.

-

Trebol had already made it known days ago to the workers that, unlike usual, their assistance would not be needed with the ship when it arrived today. He had given the foremen another generous bonus to their pay. Certainly they were suspicious, but they were also very greedy, and careless. Some of them, he was sure, were smart enough that they were already sizing up the manor.

When the ship docked, there would be no help coming for the captain and skeleton crew of the Bully Whim.

Trebol waited at the dock with the others as the ship approached, a smile on his face like the cat about to get the canary.

"It's really ugly," Doffy observed as the ship came into view. His nose wrinkled, and there was a signature pout on his lips.

It was true that the ship wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing. A rather fat hulk, bristling with obvious weaponry, and no particular frills or flourishes.

Vergo tilted his head to the side. "....it is. Think we can find someone to force to help decorate it a bit? More color would help." 

"Splash of color wouldn't hurt," Dia agreed thoughtfully, stroking his chin as they watched the ship get closer.

"Maybe…" Doffy whined. He poked his fingertips together, considering the idea. "A pink ship wouldn't be too bad."

"You know, once we're successfully pirates, we could get our own custom made ship," Trebol offered. Ever since they'd begun earnestly making an attempt at the pirate life, he'd been reading about the culture. Custom built pirate ships were a 'must have' for famous pirates, it seemed.

"They do that?" Vergo tilted his head. "If they did—how crazy can you make it? Can you make it, I dunno—a big flamingo or something? A cat-ship?" 

Doffy's smile lit up at the suggestion. "A flamingo!"

Trebol had a terrifying vision of the future.

-

Captain Slidell didn't like the scene waiting for him on Morey Pier when he stomped down the gangplank. The cannery workers were nowhere to be seen, nor was Mr. Watts, and instead, waiting for him was an assortment of grinning, mercenary looking weirdos. 

There was no other word for them. Two of them were extremely tall and gawky, of indeterminate age. The other three were young, Slidell didn't know or care how young, and all three of them were finely, but unusually dressed in a mishmash of styles and garments.

Something was definitely amiss here.

He had his hand on his sword as he approached. "What's all this then? Where's Watts? Where are the damned workers?"

To Slidell's surprise, it was the soft, fancy looking blond lad who stepped forward, his chin raised haughtily.

"My Uncle George Watts, rest his soul, passed and left this factory to me. As for the workers, there's been an outbreak of influenza in the cannery, which I doubt you want your crew to catch?"

He scowled. Fat old Watts had been in admittedly poor health, though if he had a nephew, he hadn't mentioned it to Slidell. Not that was any kind of surprise, Watts was also tight lipped and unsociable. And the conditions for his workers were adequate, but plagues and diseases among the poor were common.

"Do you have the paperwork of my agreement with your uncle?" Slidell demanded. He tacked on a perfunctory, "Rest his soul."

One of the gawky men– the one in the heavy coat– stepped forward. "We do indeed. In fact, young master Doflamingo had asked me to negotiate with you a more generous agreement, if you had the time. And we can add on a bonus for your crew having to move the stock themselves, due to the unfortunate illness."

Slidell turned his suspicious gaze on the man.

"And you are?"

The "young master" stepped forward. "Trebol is my secretary. He tells me that my uncle has been a terrible skinflint to you, and I'd like to make amends."

That finally brought a smile to his face. Watts had been a canny old bastard who had haggled him to the last berry– and Slidell had haggled right back. If the old man's bleeding heart nephew wanted to give him more money for free he certainly wasn't going to turn it down, no sir. It would be a nice bit of extra dosh to line his pockets.

"Right then," Slidell grunted. "I'll get the crew hauling and be back to discuss finances with your secretary, 'young master'."

He was so pleased about the situation he didn't think to question the other two kids, or what they were snickering about as he tromped back up the gangplank to shout orders.

-

There were two reasons for luring the captain and crew off of the ship before killing them, according to Trebol. The first was so that some wise ass didn't decide to try firing cannons at them, and the second was so that they didn't damage the ship in the brawl. 

Diamante couldn't argue with that. It would be more fun to cut loose without worrying about breaking their new toy. There were only 15 or so men on the crew, but they were rough, experienced sailors so the fight would at least be a slight workout and not something completely trivial.

Besides, watching the captain react to Doffy's stupid rich kid routine was priceless. He couldn't wait to see the look on his face when they got to the punchline of the joke.

"Is this your whole crew?" Doffy asked once the workers were on the pier with the freight. "Not very many people…"

The captain snorted. "Don't need a full crew for waters like these, lad. Just cost you a fortune in wages."

Diamante swaggered forward with the punchline. "Well, we're about to save you a fortune, then."

Vergo snickered softly off to the side in a way that was sure to be disconcerting to anyone with half a brain. Lucky, the captain probably didn't even have that. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" the captain grimaced. His hand did finally go for his sidearm, but it was much too late.

Diamante was faster on the draw.

-

The last time Vergo had been in a fight with a half dozen burly sailors it had not gone well for him.

Things were different now. It was an unfair fight in a completely different direction.

Vergo had a mastery of haki now—and his fists and body were coated head to toe with it as he danced like lightning across the ground and pounded man's skulls flat like they were cans of cola under a cart's wheels.

Blood dripped smoothly from armament haki, repelled as everything else was from it, as he kept his calm expression through even the sailor's retaliation. 

Back when he was little he'd be struck and drop to the floor, beaten black and blue for ever daring to even speak up. Back in the day, they'd hit his head so hard he'd lost something he'd never get back.

But now he was taking everything from them with only a few swings of his deadly fists and a haki-coated stalk of bamboo. 

The rest of the gang was just as deadly. The handful of sailors, as big, and tough as they were, didn't stand a chance against the five of them. They were tougher. They were better. Any two of them could probably have dealt with the whole crew, with a few more scrapes and bruises than they finally ended up with.

But this way, with the five of them, none of them even got hurt. The sailors all went down. Vergo saw one of the smarter ones trying to flee, only to be lassoed back by a handful of silvery threads and strangled on the boards of the pier.

Vergo took a moment to enjoy the sight of him dying. He reminded him dimly of the fuzzy memory shapes that were the old captain's crew— the men who'd never done a thing for their lowly cabin boys.

In a way, it was like putting a face on them again—where the knock to the head took them away. "Heh." 

Doffy looked around, beaming widely. There was a trace of blood spattered across his cheek and over his glasses.

"That's all of them, right?"

"Looks like," Dia nodded, nudging one of the bodies with his boot until it fell off into the water.

Vergo lifted one up to look at him before tossing him in the water too. "Means the boat is ours, right?" 

"Presumably, yes!" Trebol gloated cautiously. The pier around him was dripping with glue, and one of the sailors was still busy dying under his heels, just like that first day they'd met on the fishing boat. "We'll have to check the ship to make sure there's no one hidden away on it, but…"

Doffy pointed at the hulking boat. "But we have a pirate ship! We have to put up the flag!"

"No sooner asked than done, Doffy," Dia promised. "Shall we check her out?"

"Yes!!" 

Vergo felt Doffy's threads wrap around his wrist as he pulled them all toward the gangplank.

As he often did, he stumbled along after him with a subtle smile, letting Doffy lead the charge like the captain—the king he really was. His eyes turned up towards the massive ship with a hum of amusement.

It was big, strong, and one day they'd have an even better one. It was the first step towards being real pirates instead of just a gang of thugs on the mainland. Like in the comics. 

-

Dia was relieved to find when they searched below deck that there was no one else on the ship. He'd harbored a small worry that they might find that this captain had kept the kind of pressed labor that Corazon and Pica had been forced into when they'd met. 

From the little nod that Pica gave him when he declared 'empty' he gathered it had been on the kid's mind too.

"Better that we pick up some crew we know are interested in being pirates," Dia said, tapping his nose thoughtfully. He'd spent some time over the last weeks chatting up the cannery workers to see if any of them were up to the task, but he'd come up empty.

"Soon, right?"

"Soon enough, yeah. Doffy and Tre have some plans on that, I think." They were going to sail south, toward, toward the bigger, warmer cities all choked with industrial sprawl. Plenty of tough down-on-their-lucks who'd give their right leg to sail with a pirate crew in places like that. "They wanna make sure we only bring aboard people who are gonna be loyal, you know?"

Pica nodded. "It's important."

It was important. Dia sure as hell didn't want to be woken up by a fucking attempted mutiny in the dead of night. But he did think they could benefit from a few more bodies around the place. They were a tight knit group, but there was a lot of work to sailing a ship. Not only that but Dia found himself itching for a little more company; a few more drinking buddies, and more people to show off to.

Maybe even a few girls he could convince Trebol were worth their time. Not that he didn't love screwing around with the gang, but, there was always room for variety.

He slapped Pica companionably across the back. "C'mon, let's get up there. We still gotta haul the baggage on board. Next time, somebody else can do it, eh?"

Pica smiled, and that was as good as getting a laugh out of him.

-

They were almost ready to go.

Doffy watched with a huge grin on his face as Diamante balled up their new ship's old flag and tossed it into the sea before hoisting their own flag up the mast. The Donquixote flag. Once it was raised to the top of the ship it fluttered handsomely, unfurling and showing its colors in the stiff breeze. Its bright smile under the crossbar mirrored Doffy's own.

He pumped his fist into the air and whooped. "The Donquixote pirates are ready to set sail!"

A cheer went up from the others, too, all hooting and clapping before they got to work making the ship ready. Doffy had a big part to play, too, his stings making up the smaller number of men they had tending the rigging. He'd already practiced on their smaller boats.

He adjusted the sails, and Pica pulled up the anchor. The wind caught the mainsail and tugged them gently out of the harbor toward the open sea of the North Blue.

Their little gang had officially become the Donquixote pirate, and they were going to make an infamous name for themselves. His name. Their name. The name was important. It was everything the filth in Mary Geoise had tried to take away from him. His family.

Well, Doffy's new family, his real family, the Donquixote pirates, were coming. And they were going to take everything away from the filth in Mary Geoise. Even if it took fifty years.

Doffy finished setting the sails in order on their heading, and turned to look at his family. They were everything the world hated. They were people that the rulers of the world would consider trash. They were his treasures, and he loved them.

Slow, quiet Pica, with his huge body and his tiny voice. He'd been treated like an abused pack mule by the world, and he showed it in his soft nature and his ferocious, slow burning temper. 

Diamante, sharp, and prideful, and a showman. Quick to laugh, whether it was at a joke or someone's misfortune. The world had been empty of promise for him, so he'd turned his back on it.

Dreamy, intense Corazon, who could have been a hero in a kinder world, but would help Doffy tear down this one instead. Robbed of his full wit by a man who considered him disposable.

And Trebol, a scholar and a politician, a man who would find it easy to be kind if he didn't know that the world would always be cruel. A man who knew that the world looked down on him like he was the scum underneath their shoes.

All of them were Doffy's protectors, his teachers, his confidents, his friends, and his beloveds.They were so much more than what everyone else saw. They were everything, and he loved him.

When the world was burning to ashes at Doflamingo's feet, when he was laughing at the final reversal of it all, the The Donquixote pirates– Donquixote family would be with him, holding hands and laughing.

-

As the sun set glowed over the glittering open ocean of the North Blue sea, Diamante lit a cigarette and leaned over the railing, looking out at the vast expanse.

"Hell of a lot bigger ship than when we first got started, eh?"

"Bigger group, too." Trebol came and rested on the railing upwind of him, arm to arm with him. "Hey, hey, didn't I tell you if you brought me along we'd go up with the world?"

Dia slung his arm around Trebol's shoulders and laughed softly, remembering that first fateful night, his knife to the chained clerk's throat. 

"You sure did, Tre. And you were right. We've come a hell of a long way. Pretty good for a bunch of runaways, slaves and orphans, eh?"

"Well, we've got a long way further to go. But pretty good, Dia. I'll say."

Diamante was glad that he'd let himself be convinced to take Trebol along that night. He was glad that he'd let Trebol twist his arm into keeping Pica and Corazon around. He was very glad that they'd waited so long for Doffy to come back.

"Glad I didn't decide to go it alone."

[narmora]

🌟 Shooting Stars - Master List 🌟

Overview of my silly little (I'm joking. It's a chonk) BG3 Gale x OC fic 💖 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Five days have passed since Nori crashed into the most backwater part of the Sword Coast, head pounding with the hangover of the century and for unknowable reasons dubbed chieftain of her fellow abductees. Just when she thinks the situation couldn’t get any weirder, the sky opens yet again to throw one more lost soul into her lap.

After what feels like an eternity of desperate dimension-hopping, Ley escapes the abomination on her tail by plunging through the stratosphere of a world she doesn't recognise, inhabited by people she doesn’t understand. Beaten and disoriented, she has no choice but to put her trust in whoever takes her in.

Gale expected many things upon departing Waterdeep, but getting scooped up by a nautiloid hadn't been amongst them. Struggling to adjust to his new vagabonding lifestyle, he comes to face a challenge he’s much better equipped for; tutoring their newest addition, shipwrecked as well, albeit for different reasons, and cursed with an affliction oddly reciprocal to his. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 1. Chapter: Introduction 2. Chapter: Wildspace 3. Chapter: Falling 4. Chapter: Stalker 5. Chapter: Gifts 6. Chapter: Caged 7. Chapter: Words 8. Chapter: Flowers 9. Chapter: Hunger 10. Chapter: Surge (Part I) 11. Chapter: Surge (Part II) 12. Chapter: Farewells 13. Chapter: Weave 14. Chapter: Revivify 15. Chapter: Confessions 16. Chapter: Reading 17. Chapter: Forward 18. Chapter: Hunt 19. Chapter: Respite 20. Chapter: Ignis 21. Chapter: Hearthlight 22. Chapter: Exile 23. Chapter: Revenant 24. Chapter: Solace 25. Chapter: Rosymorn 26. Chapter: Zaith'isk 27. Chapter: Hshar’lak 28. Chapter: Embers 29. Chapter: Witchcraft 30. Chapter: Sacrilege 31. Chapter: Crossroads 32. Chapter: Mycelium 33. Chapter: Dissonance 34. Chapter: Grym

[monkey-papermoon]

Here is the first chapter (I call them Verses to incorporate music terms which has plot relevance later) of my story, of which I have 10 Verses, The first chapter is a bit rough but I gradually learn as I go along and where i'm at in the story now is a lot better in my eyes. Hope you enjoy! any questions please ask :)

The Ballad of Longdead Yuli 

Prelude 

 ⌖ 

  "I've walked this road for many a year, unsure if I will ever find what I'm looking for, I often wonder if there is anything to look for anymore, or perhaps this world has long since swallowed any hopes of prying eyes ever meeting it again. I have no reason to continue, yet still my body pushes forth, driven by... in search of..." 

  In this world there exists a tree. One whose roots span through every quarter of this planet. Harboring the population within its expanse. A mainstay hardly questioned nor pondered upon as anything but truth... 

This story is one of purpose. Crossing fates; Identity, the indominable human spirit and what it means to be alive. 

Our story could begin anywhere. In the comfort of a home where someone has cracked open a book under some light; on someone's free time away from their busy life; A passing glance from a library visitor and so on. But, for our purposes, we begin with sand blasted wastes, a girl of no name, and most importantly – A Diary of Dust. 

Verse  

    ONE  

D slid shrewdly down the steep cliff-face, breathing in with a gasp as she reached the foot of it. The desert night was just giving rise to the morning sun, as such it was still frigid. The ringing of gunfire was still in her ears, she had been running from them. Unsure if she stumbled upon something she shouldn’t have or if she simply happened upon some gunslingers too eager on the trigger.  Regardless her instinct was enough to make her not turn back and find out. She was unsure of how long she’d been running, but at this point, she thought, she was sure to have lost them.  

D spent her whole life learning to survive in the desert, the easiest place a vagabond can slip away if they so ever have the need. She had no home to speak of, but she quickly learned the tricks of a thief, such as ways to conceal oneself amongst crowds, and not to seem out of place while stealing one’s needs, or desires. As such, D would be in and out of towns. She may appear one day, scrounge what she could, and be out of sight the next. Avoiding the chance of the local law being tipped of the existence of a thieving vagrant in their midst. Since she could walk and talk, she’d done this to survive, at any cost. Surviving and scavenging was all she knew. All she knows now though, is the Sun is quickly rising upon the horizon, it was going to be very hot very soon, and she spotted shelter. 

The small building, dilapidated and half swallowed by the dunes, was unsuspecting enough. D managed to kick her way inside without toppling the aged wood responsible for sheltering her, which was a win.  

She quickly slung her cloak off and tossed it to the side, nudging her goggles onto her brow. She didn’t realize just how out of breath she was, she slid down against the nearest wall to catch her breath for a minute. It wasn’t long before her eyes began darting around to her surroundings, a scavenger’s curious eye for pickings in tandem with the need to catch her bearings for the coming day. She still had some rations from her time in Witherwood, albeit rot had begun to set in. No big deal, she was no stranger to it, but she needed more food soon. She was doubtful this shriveled shack would have anything, but maybe whoever left this place behind left a can or two of something. She was hopeful, at least. 

As her brain stopped focusing on her breathing and her other senses returned, the musty smell of wood rot nearly took out the breath she had just regained, rot wasn't too common in the desert, as rain seldom fell. Regardless, she covered her face with the cloth around her neck and started looking around. The building was not too large, but there was a lot more to the inside as she initially thought, sand had not fully penetrated what remained, save for the few spots it managed to sprinkle its way inside. Despite the building being submerged in sand, she was able to stand straight up. In doing so, however, she learned the building was tilting on its axis, the furthest wall was at quite a decline, and it wrapped around a corner, but that was shrouded in darkness.  

From where she stood, there were cabinets and drawers. She eagerly leapt in hastily swinging open the cabinets and pulling the drawers from their hinges. Nothing, nothing, nothing, and nothing. Defeated, her head dropped, there had been nothing to take save for some old wood for fire, if the rot would even take to burning. Some time passed; she was slumped against the wall with the row of empty cabinets, she took one last bite of a half-rotted apple she had stolen. She started to make her way towards the hole she made to enter. Without trying, though, her body stopped, she looked again at the darkened proceeds beyond the corner of the far wall, something about it was calling to her, and, if just for a moment, she swore she saw a bright flash of yellow as if the sun had burst through the dark for just a second. It was impossible, she thought. Every thought and instinct she had was to turn away and leave, but her body was telling her to move towards it.  

 

Accept the dark and you will uncover light... The world, entangled in lies, will it accept truth? These thoughts were not hers, and they were oh, so loud, beckoning her closer and closer. Her legs, as if she were a marionette, were moving on their own, they felt heavy, almost unbearably so. She was kneeling now, the room had gotten steeper somehow, as if her being there was enough to tip the house, the corner was inches away, the thoughts, almost desperate cries now, were ringing in her ears. A veil of countless lives... Locked in time, everlasting, unchanging... Will... You...  Question? D winced, her skin felt as if it were burning, her chest felt as if she were pinned, her whole body felt as if it were vibrating intensely. She had no choice but to watch as her body turned the corner, the thoughts, as if a hundred voices in union; SEEK TRUTH. Just then, her vision became overwhelmed with the now almost searing yellow light. Suddenly, she regained control, the light was gone, and her body collapsed under the freedom it once had. 

It took her a minute to regain control, as she did, she peered into a dark room, she knew it was risky in old buildings like this, but she took a match and lit it. She was standing inches from a pool of murky water, a strange sight in the desert but after what just happened, she didn’t question it, she was still breathing heavily and quite confused, but she now knows the source of the rot. The insufferable smell of mold and the darkness was enough to make her want to turn back. But whatever that had been, she felt she needed to figure it out. In front of her was a glint of metal, as she brought the match closer it was a wooden lockbox, the corners of which were ornate with metal. She saw nothing else in the room that had not already been thoroughly devoured by the water. She needed to pull it out of here, but the dark was intense, she struck another match and put it between her front teeth, it slightly burned her nose, but it was enough to get it out and into the first room she entered. 

She anxiously pried the box open, if this was the cause of what happened, she wasn’t sure if she wanted more of it. Her body kept telling her to open it though. The box held three items, a rusted revolver, a knife wrapped carefully in leather, and a book in pristine condition, The building owners' items before leaving, or biting it, she assumed. The gun was in disrepair, a shame because it would be of good help if she ever needed it. She fastened the knife to her beltline and looked over at the book. She couldn’t read very well, what little she did know was from her only real friend Verrill, but she loved stories. She grabbed the book and flipped through the pages with the notion that Verrill could help her read it when she saw him again. But there was nothing on the pages, every page she passed was blank. She pouted and tossed the book over her shoulder.  

She was stumped, there was no clear reason for what happened to her. I really got to stop eating rotten food, she thought. As she was gearing to retrieve her cloak from the ground, she saw something in her peripheral; yellow mist. She snapped her head around at the book laid ajar on the ground, bright yellow lettering seemed to flood the page. She leapt towards the book and picked it up, in doing so, the letters spilling across the pages, rapidly changing. She attempted to fix her sight on the page and began to sit down in hopes of figuring out something...BANG, a shot rang out in the distance, then another, and another. 

Shit, did they find me? How? She thought; No, the shots are too far, and there's no way they could have tracked me on foot through the sand unless they were right behind me. She knew one thing though, she had to leave before they got any closer, she's not dumb enough to get into a gun fight. Especially not with just a knife. She stored the book in her satchel, grabbed her belongings, fixed her goggles on her eyes and fashioned her cloak into a shawl, before slipping out of the building,  

The sun was in full effect now, from the looks of it, near noon, how long have I been there? She wondered, and took a quick glance back at the building, nothing was visible save for the hole she had made, it was sinking. Shots continued to fire in the distance, and she thought of running the opposite way. Her body, though, had other ideas. Against her will again, and much to her frustration, her body moved towards the gunfight. 

Her legs moved on their own for some time and gave way to freedom as she reached the summit of the dunes, she saw the source of the gunfire, a person dressed oddly fancy for the desert pinned behind a carriage, a barn, and two apparent gunslingers firing back and forth. This was not her fight, but the words echoed in her head again; SEEK TRUTH.  

D slipped down a pit in the dunes and close to the barn. She felt she needed to help the fancy man, so she slipped off her old knife which was too dull to use anymore, and she threw it towards the barn near the 2 gunslingers, yelling “HEY!” before crouching out of sight, which seemed enough to distract the men, two shots rang out, two bodies hit the floor. The fancy man holstered his gun and started making his way hesitantly towards D. 

Whoever he was, he was clearly apt with a gun. She sprang up and raised her hands in the air showing no weapons, the fancy man came closer, taking his hands away from his gun, The bowler hat on his head laid atop long slickened black hair which spilled out like waterfalls on either side of his neck, he looked to have some age on him, there was wispy grey hairs on both sides of his head, his face was clean shaven, He was androgynous, D could believe they were either sex, not that it mattered to her much; She had met all types of people amongst vagrants and wanderers. He was sporting a sand peppered white suit shirt, under grey vest and grey slacks, “I won’t kill you, just keep your hands up for now and come over here” The voice was equally in between, but it wasn’t the time to question that. She started walking towards the fancy man, “toss the knife to the ground and hand over your bag” he said. Great, I help someone against my will and where does it get me? Robbed. She thought, as she complied.  

The person took her bag and started rummaging through it, taking a quick look at every object and tossing it on the ground “Really? Is this all you have for food?” they asked. She replied, “If food is what you want, ask!” She replied, the person ignored her, shaking their head. Suddenly, their face turned pale; a grave expression now painted them. 

 They were holding the book D had taken from the house earlier. “Sit.” he said, “you can put your arms down.” D did as they said, up-close now and the person before them was no more discernable than they had been. Their face was rather round, and they had high cheek bones that pushed outwards from slightly sunken eyes. The person stared at the book for some time, D didn’t know if she should speak up or not. “Can I have my bag ba-” “Where did you get this?” they snapped. D answered meekly “Old house in a dune back that way” she said, pointing behind her. “Dunes? No, that’s not right” he said, looking pensive “That your book?” D asked, Ignored again. “This was buried in Lake Nevorrie, in a house, yes but... that can only mean...” 

 Their face turned from pensive to excited, as they jumped up, their demeanor changed, now sticking their hand out invitingly “How rude of me! The names Coy Allard, what’s yours?” D, taken aback at the sudden change, she reluctantly shook Coy’s hand. She didn’t talk very much, she learned most of what she knew from Verrill, who himself was a quite well-spoken man, but a rather poor teacher. “I don’t know name, but I’m called D” “Dee?” Coy asked, following with “where did you get that from?” D answered by pointing towards the satchel now at Coy’s feet, which had a D engraved on the largest fold. “Ah, do you like it? ‘D’ I mean.” Coy asked. D just shrugged “Don’t pay attention to it much” she said. “Huh, we’ll put that aside for now.” Coy sat again, tossing the book to D. “What did you see?” they asked. “Huh?” D asked. “Did you see anything, hear anything... Read anything?” The memories of the events in the house earlier had started to resurface, despite her usually poor communication, she retold the best she could, the thoughts that hadn’t belonged to her, the blinding light, her lack of control and the dancing Symbols upon the page. 

Coy removed their hat, sliding their hair back and sighing. “Well, that’s that. Fate sure is funny, I worked in the name of that book for ages after its original owner died ‘til I lost hope, I had sworn it was cursed, my goals were fruitless. I’m sure he spites me for it, but I didn’t want my life to be dictated by that book anymore. I guess, though, that book and I are tied by fate.” they laughed, “though, can’t say I didn’t miss the chase” they continued. “What is this? Am I cursed?” D held the book tight to her chest, if this book was cursed, maybe keeping it closed was the best Idea. 

Coy snickered, “poor choice of words on my part, age must be catching up” They sat forward, pointing to the book, a grin stretching across their face. “You aren’t cursed, friend, not unless you lack wanderlust or fight. No, you’ve been chosen by the Augur, and what you have there, is the Diary of Dust. Have you read it?” D shook her head “Can’t” Coy put their hat back on, tilting their head slightly “The words won’t show up?” They asked. “They do, I can’t read, and the letters don't stay the same in this. My friend Verrill helps me read” she said.  “That makes sense, the letters will only show to those blessed by Augur and will change to any language most understood by the reader. If you can’t read, they will rapidly change until you understand.” Coy responded, rubbing their chin “I guess I'll just have to teach you to read”. Not easy to trust, D jumped up defensively “No! Verrill will help!” she said sternly. Coy responded “We can’t just bring along any random guy! You don’t understand, the Augur chose you, you’re a target now. Which means others around you are in danger too.” She clenched her fists, “I’m used to danger! My whole life is dangerous, Verrill is my friend!” Coy took a deep breath, putting both their hands up in front of them in surrender. “Look, I don’t want to fight you, we just met, you don’t trust me. If you need Verrill we will seek his help, but you need to understand, we need to be quick, we can figure it out as we go” they said, pointing at their carriage. D unclenched her fists and nodded hesitantly, Coy handed her satchel to her and she picked up her knife, she put the book into the satchel, as they both topped the carriage. 

It was a long ride with few words spoken, they spoke of location and plan, but no words beyond that. Their goals were the outskirts of Verronas where Verrill sets up cart, he was a snake oil salesman, his trade was dealing in false hope, but the people of Verronas were aware, they’ve long since ran him out of town, everyone knew his products were junk, and his prices too high. It was rare someone was desperate enough to turn to him, and when he sensed a dying man, he’d spin a great comforting story surrounding his product, to ease the customer's mind in his last days, he almost always refuses to take their money He was an interesting man, but not a bad one. The snake oil was a front for his true passion, he loved books, and always had a story to tell. Growing up Verrill was the closest thing D had to a father figure, they’d spent years together running around the wastes, getting kicked out of towns and always getting into mischief. Verrill was her best friend, her only friend. He’d tell tales of his years as a student in the great library of Umbrias far to the east, or his time as a sand raider ruling the dunes, becoming feared and mighty, or his time as a Sherriff’s deputy that took out the infamous Copper-king Lucci Hall. She knew deep down they were tall tales, but she loved them. She had a lot of time to learn from him how to read but her mind was always on other things, and he always said that he hated to see her pout. 

As they neared the city of Verronas they reviewed the plan again, it was to stop by Verrill's cart, asking if he would come with them, or at least say goodbye as their goal would have them travelling, likely to not return. D was used to traveling, but she always stayed within a set radius. After today she’d be leaving it for the first time, which was both exciting and daunting for her. Her emotions were lying between the two, a bittersweet symphony for her last days in the wastes, she just hoped it wouldn’t be the last she’d see of Verrill, he was important to her, regardless of time apart. 

Time passed as the rumbling hooves shook the carriage. Coy and D were nearing their goal, they rode up 20 paces away from Verrill's cart, as to make a quick exit once they’re done. Coy stayed on the cart to get going as soon as they could. D quickly grabbed her satchel and eagerly jumped to the ground off the carriage and ran to the cart. She saw Verrill behind his counter, but something was off. Verrill was a burly, olive-skinned man with curly black hair and a beard that rode his waist. He almost always wore thick pin-striped pants and suspenders with no shirt. He was almost always in good spirits and wore a smile more often than not. Though that smile was now a bleak grimace. 

 She always had a way of cheering him up, so she ran up to the cart. “Verrill! I found a cool book, this guy I met said it’s important. We have to go real soon, I thought you’d be able to help and ride with us.” Verrill slammed a book on his counter and fixed his sights to the distance, “No, I don’t want you here, you need to leave.” he said sternly. “B-but you always love talking with me, what did I do? Can I come in?” she stammered. Verrill’s eyes widened, he left his cart to meet her face to face, narrowly slipping out of the door as to not show the contents. “You need to leave D. You’re nothing but trouble! If you don’t leave, I'll make you leave.” Verrill boomed. D began to cry and started punching Verrill in the chest repeatedly. Begging him to change his mind or explain, he did not. With eyes full of tears, she looked up at Verrill, he looked pained, his expression began to distort, his façade was gone, giving way to a face now wet with tears and full of sorrow. He mouthed to her "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. He wrapped his arms around her tight for just a second, releasing what he was really feeling 

D, stunned, saw Coy running towards them in her peripheral, Verrill quickly turned and grabbed the book he slammed on his desk a minute before and shoved it to her chest, moving her back a step. She glanced at the book before looking back at Verrill. He was sobbing now, and he began opening his mouth once more, releasing a bellowing “RUN!”  

Before she could react; the breath was taken from her lungs, she cried out to no avail. As she was tackled to the ground, A pain like she never felt; A shot rang out, Verrill was dead. D’s vision flashed, then faded to black. 

[silvernevermind]

little new years write up of how my 2024 went ^_^

so I definitely had a new years resolution for 2024 set but I forgor that shit lol. 2023 it was "make a fursona" and 2024 was something related to that idea but I just don't rember... #flop!

first half of my year wasn't super eventful. one of the first games i played this year was gamecube animal crossing, then a lil laterI got into pokemon go for a while, started going on lots of walks. i caught so many shiny bellsprout. oh and I also finished my final semester of college!

bout halfway thru summer i think is when big crazy life change happened which is my mom finally decided to divorce my shitty abusive stepdad after 10+ years being together. we moved to a house I like more in an area i like more, and it's so crazy awesome because his stupid ass isn't there and i don't have to see him ^_^

but that's kinda skipping forward a lot cause there's like 6 months between being told about the divorce and moving out finally lol. I had my biggest most awesome artfight yet, which was super fun I miss her already. I had a slight visual novel kick this year, playing both Hotel Dusk games, Mice Tea, and finally finally finishing the first Ace Attourney after starting it in middle school.

oh and survival horror I guess too? only a total of two, starting with Crow Country and then going into Signalis but that's still more than I played any other year ever. there's also Laser Eyes but i don't think that counts lol. I still don't think the genre is super duper my thing gameplay wise but ive always loved them from afar and will hopefully play more.

how could I forget i started logging my manga read again! myanimelist just stopped working with tachiyomi one day so none of my shit was accurately tracked, I finally moved to anilist and I LOVE it it's really good. i wish backloggd would steal more feature from it. I've read a lifetime total of 9000 chapters and im gonna be excited to see that become 10000 soon.

my manga reading habits shifted a bit, where as before I focused heavily on keeping up with the entire ongoing shonen jump catalogue, this year I read more "classics" i guess? Hunter x Hunter (MID AS HELL), Vagabond, Monster, finally fuckin read Dorohedoro. This was also my first year to be a real himejoshi... I've went from 0 yuri read to probably like 15+ now? Honestly most of it sucked but well the good ones were good!!!

I'm changing the game this year with my new years resolution by having several and as long as one of them happens i win bitch!! mostly art related but also I'd love to learn japanese.. that'd be cool.

idk I think that's it? a really niceys good fun year for silver I hope everyone's 2025 is so good their head explode

[pugzman3]

Psalms chapter 109

1 (To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.) Hold not thy peace, O God of my praise;

2 For the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened against me: they have spoken against me with a lying tongue.

3 They compassed me about also with words of hatred; and fought against me without a cause.

4 For my love they are my adversaries: but I give myself unto prayer.

5 And they have rewarded me evil for good, and hatred for my love.

6 Set thou a wicked man over him: and let Satan stand at his right hand.

7 When he shall be judged, let him be condemned: and let his prayer become sin.

8 Let his days be few; and let another take his office.

9 Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.

10 Let his children be continually vagabonds, and beg: let them seek their bread also out of their desolate places.

11 Let the extortioner catch all that he hath; and let the strangers spoil his labour.

12 Let there be none to extend mercy unto him: neither let there be any to favour his fatherless children.

13 Let his posterity be cut off; and in the generation following let their name be blotted out.

14 Let the iniquity of his fathers be remembered with the LORD; and let not the sin of his mother be blotted out.

15 Let them be before the LORD continually, that he may cut off the memory of them from the earth.

16 Because that he remembered not to shew mercy, but persecuted the poor and needy man, that he might even slay the broken in heart.

17 As he loved cursing, so let it come unto him: as he delighted not in blessing, so let it be far from him.

18 As he clothed himself with cursing like as with his garment, so let it come into his bowels like water, and like oil into his bones.

19 Let it be unto him as the garment which covereth him, and for a girdle wherewith he is girded continually.

20 Let this be the reward of mine adversaries from the LORD, and of them that speak evil against my soul.

21 But do thou for me, O GOD the Lord, for thy name's sake: because thy mercy is good, deliver thou me.

22 For I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me.

23 I am gone like the shadow when it declineth: I am tossed up and down as the locust.

24 My knees are weak through fasting; and my flesh faileth of fatness.

25 I became also a reproach unto them: when they looked upon me they shaked their heads.

26 Help me, O LORD my God: O save me according to thy mercy:

27 That they may know that this is thy hand; that thou, LORD, hast done it.

28 Let them curse, but bless thou: when they arise, let them be ashamed; but let thy servant rejoice.

29 Let mine adversaries be clothed with shame, and let them cover themselves with their own confusion, as with a mantle.

30 I will greatly praise the LORD with my mouth; yea, I will praise him among the multitude.

31 For he shall stand at the right hand of the poor, to save him from those that condemn his soul.

[alpaca-clouds]

The Old God [Hector-centric Hurt/Comfort]

This is a story I have been thinking about for a while. And as I feared it will not be done as a one shot (as I fear this will end being between 10-12k). Because I wanted to have a Hector story on today... Have at it.

Note: This will include some religious discussion, though not in the first chapter.

The Old God

Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix) Genre: Hurt/Comfort

While exploring the mountains surrounding the Styrian castle, Hector meets a vagabond camping in a cave. Before he knows it, the stranger starts talking to him...

[skellymom]

"There have been great societies that did not use the wheel, but no societies that did not tell stories." - Ursula Le Guin

Welcome to my STAR WARS THE BAD BATCH fan fiction page!

Thanks to everyone who has been supportive, friendly and empathetic on this platform. Honestly, you guys have been/are a HUGE help on those dark and disquieting days.

Divider credit: @saradika @angelic-wh1spers @phantom-z0ne @samspenandsword)

"Vagabonds"

Ongoing OC x Hunter/Bad Batch Fanfic Series:

Introduction: "Chaos On Coruscant"

+ Chapter 1: "Weight of the Galaxy" (posted 8/14/2023/reposted 1/24)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/738467105361494016/vagabonds?source=share

"Vagabonds" #2: "Spotchka Under The Stars" (posted 9/12/2023) Not SFW/SMUT

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/728315714878980096/background-hunter-and-mad-bond-make-love-and?source=share

"Vagabonds" #3: "Co-Conspirators" (posted 9/21/2023) Not SFW/SMUT

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/729052697841582080/hunter-x-ocfem-reader-ongoing-series?source=share

"Vagabonds" #4: "Meet The Fam" (posted 10/5/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/730320896366149632/vagabonds-chapter-4?source=share

"Vagabonds" #5: "Secrets" (posted 11/8/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/733456994638462976/vagabonds-chapter-5?source=share

"Vagabonds" #6: "Job Gone Wrong" (posted 11/12/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/733835736590303232/vagabonds-chapter-6?source=share

"Vagabonds" #7: "Escape From Ord Mantell - Part 1" (posted 11/19/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/734468366280065024/vagabonds-chapter-7?source=share

"Vagabonds" #8: "Escape From Ord Mantell - Part 2" (posted 11/28/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/735297232933453824/vagabonds-chapter-8?source=share

"Vagabonds" #9: "In The Beginning" (posted 2/8/2024) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/741739026615353344/vagabonds-chapter-9?source=share

"Vagabonds" #10: "Stranded" (posted 2/29/2024) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743633412345282560/vagabonds-chapter-10?source=share

"Vagabonds" #11: "In The Depths Of Darkness" (posted 3/14/2024) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744912201871245312/vagabonds-chapter-11?source=share

"Vagabonds" #12 "Love's Arrival" (posted 4/16/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/747902380483526656/vagabonds-chapter-12?source=share

"Vagabonds" #13 "Precious Cargo" (posted 6/20/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753775679134466048/vagabonds-chapter-13-precious-cargo?source=share

"Vagabonds" #14 "In Confidence" (posted 7/31/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/757579231979077632/vagabonds-chapter-14-in-confidence?source=share

"Vagabonds" #15 "Get In Losers (posted 8/8/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/758223309018103808/vagabonds-chapter-15-get-in-losers?source=share

"Vagabonds" #16 "Trip Like I Do" (posted 8/14/24) NSFW SMUT!

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/758770205138845696/vagabonds-chapter-16-trip-like-i-do?source=share

"Vagabonds" #17 "WTF" (posted 8/15/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/758867009187512320/vagabonds-chapter-17-wtf?source=share

"Vagabonds" #18 "THE FORCE" (posted 8/21/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/759480275949486080/vagabonds-chapter-18-the-force?source=share

"Vagabonds" #19 "HEART OF THE MATTER" (posted 9/9/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/761182994193154048/vagabonds-chapter-19?source=share

"Vagabonds" #20 "DIFFICULT CHOICES" (posted 9/12/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/761407251706707968/vagabonds-chapter-20?source=share

"Vagabonds" #21 "AMARANTHINE" (posted 9/26/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/762676548240277504/vagabonds-chapter-21?source=share

"Vagabonds" #22 "THE TEMPEST" (posted 9/29/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/762939005812801536/vagabonds-chapter-22?source=share

"Vagabonds" #23 "RETREAT" (posted 10/10/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/763930279133970432/vagabonds-chapter-23?source=share

"Vagabonds" #24 &25 "RETREAT" & "THE NIGHTMARE" (posted 10/21/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/764929745333927936/vagabonds-chapter-24-25?source=share

"Vagabonds" #26 "HOPE AND LOVE" (posted 10/29/24) NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/765645976136564736/vagabonds-chapter-26?source=share

"Vagabonds" #27 "POWER OF THE FORCE (posted 1/23/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/773452066226159616/vagabonds-chapter-27?source=share

"Vagabonds" #28 THE GIFT & #29 "THE WARNING" (posted 2/26/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/776531746960375808/vagabonds-chapter-28-29?source=share

"Vagabonds" #30 "RETRIVAL PARTY" (posted 3/20/25) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/778521573657329664/vagabonds-chapter-30?source=share

CLONE FORCE 99/THE BAD BATCH GROUP FICS

"SILENT BUT DEADLY" #1 in "ONE SHIT" Series (posted 1/1/24) FART HUMOR

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/739302379984388096/silent-but-deadly?source=share

"BOMBS AWAY" #2 in "ONE SHIT" Series (posted 1/22/24) FART/POOP HUMOR

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740278235151106049/fionajames-talesfrommedinastation-n0vqni?source=share

"WHO DELT IT" #3 in "ONE SHIT" Series (posted 1/10/24) FART HUMOR

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/739120829947871232/who-delt-it?source=share

"REDNECK DOUG'S BATCHER FAMILY BBQ" (posted 9/5/23) Unhinged Family Drama/COMEDY/Not SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/727626634459529216/redneck-dougs-bad-batch-one-shot-background-bad?source=share

*NSFW* "BALLROOM BLITZ" (Posted 4/13/24)

The Bad Batch Fan Fic Clone Fic Gift Exchange FULL STORY

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/747672258377580544/ballroom-blitz?source=share

"HIGH TIMES" (posted 5/15/24) Medicinal Candy Mix-Up SILLY/NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/750529350552731648/high-times?source=share

"LITTLE BROTHER" (posted 6/14/24) Batch rehomes a baby clone. SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753251556693032960/little-brother?source=share

"SLIDE" (posted 6/21/24-repost from 7/31/23) Jedi Groundhog Day SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753955452070641664/slide?source=share

CLONE TRIBUTES

"Heaven's Earth" This is seduction of the highest order (posted 8/19/24)Passionately angsty love song dedicated to clone of choice/WHOLE batch!

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/759278574808268800/headcannon-soundtrack?source=share

"Death Is Nothing At All" (posted 6/20/24) Tribute to Tech

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753782399015469056/death-is-nothing-at-all?source=share

"Goodnight Kamino" (posted 4/25/24) Tribute To ALL Of The Clones

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/748705639648378880/a-tribute-to-the-clones?source=share

COLLABS

"The Last Island Wolf " ALTERNATE ENDING (posted 11/28/24) horror/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/768424631791157248/last-island-wolf?source=share

Chapter 1-"The Tale of the Dathomir Witch"

Clone Force 99/Bad Batch Mini Series Fic

ONE witch attempts to save the galaxy (Posted 10/16/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/731338076301000704/the-tale-of-the-dathomir-witch?source=share

"The Tale of the Dathomir Witch"-Chapter 2 (posted 10/17/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/731405312676003840/the-bad-batch-mini-series-halloween-fan-fic?source=share

"The Tale of the Dathomir Witch"-Chapter 3 (posted 10/31/2023) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/732696093237870592/the-bad-batch-mini-series-halloween-fan-fic?source=share

"The Tale of the Dathomir Witch"-Chapter 4 (FINALE - posted 10/31/2023) Some violence/check tags

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/732696079947251712/posted-103123?source=share

TECH FICS

"Amber Eyes" (posted 11/4/24) HOPE for Tech Fans! SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/766196448072187904/amber-eyes?source=share

"Amber Eyes" Chapter 2 (posted 11/23/24) HOPE for Tech Fans! SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/767923139764207616/amber-eyes-chapter-2?source=share

"For The Love Of Dog" (posted 7/29/24) Sweet SFW (features Crosshair)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/757322076805906432/for-the-love-of-dog?source=share

ECHO FICS

"Wordless" (posted 9/3/24) Love/Hope SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/760581993393209344/wordless?source=share

"Smash and Grab" (posted 7/24/24) Angst SFW (Hunter featured too)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/756858742702833664/smash-and-grab?source=share

WRECKER FICS

"Stasis" (posted 8/6/24) Love/angst and some humor SFW/NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/758038690108997632/stasis?source=share

CROSSHAIR FICS

"The Platform" (posted 5/27/24) Angst SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/751604938204921856/the-platform?source=share

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 1 (posted 3/7/24) SMUT++ /Not SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744267915687264256/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-1?source=share

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 2 (posted 3/7/24) SMUT++ /Not SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744276448825769984/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-2?source=share

"CUP OF CAF" (posted 12/4/23) Crosshairs sweet redemption arc/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/735755898541277184/a-cup-of-caf-the-bad-batch-crosshair-one?source=share

"RETURN TO PABU" PART 1 (posted 1/24/24) Companion to "Cup of Caf"/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740375615328354305/return-to-pabu-part-1?source=share

"RETURN TO PABU" PART 2 (posted 1/24/24) Companion to "Cup of Caf"/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740838054339723264/return-to-pabu-part-2?source=share

"RETURN TO PABU" PART 3 (posted 7/16/24) Companion to "Cup of Caf"/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/756137825067515904/return-to-pabu-part-3?source=share

"RETURN TO PABU" PART 4 FINALE (posted 7/16/24) Companion to "Cup of Caf"/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/756137857356349440/return-to-pabu-part-4-finale?source=share

HUNTER FICS

"Little Interruptions" (posted 6/17/2024) MILDLY NSFW (mild smut)

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/753588665810386944/hiii-can-you-do-a-story-about-after-a-long?source=share

"The Incident" (posted 5/31/24) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/751971675586822144/hey-skelly-youre-taking-requests-oh-id-love-to?source=share

"Healing Touch" (posted 5/28/24) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/751709195246649344/hey-skelly-i-was-wondering-if?source=share

"Unfortunate Turn Of Events (posted 3/21/24) SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/745530843675639808/unfortunate-turn-of-events?source=share

"I'm Your Man" (posted 2/29/24) SMUT++/NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743658453597323264/im-your-man?source=share

"Hunt And Peck" (posted 2/28/24) COMEDY SMUT/NSFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743551116443336704/hunt-and-peck?source=share

"Sunset Over Pabu" (posted 2/12/24) ANGST/SADNESS/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/742174639837593600/please-like-comment-andor-reblog?source=share

"Fuck Around, Find Out" (posted 10/20/24) SILLY/SFW

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/770375451499757568/fuck-around-find-out?source=share

Original Art:

MISCELLANEOUS

"TRIBUTE TO HOPE AND REBELLION" - ANDOR

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/761188315249754112/a-tribute-to-hope-and-rebellion?source=share

PLEASE send me some love too! I created this listing to not just help people find creatives, but to PROMOTE MY OWN Tumblr account. It's called networking, baby! ❤️

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers @cafekitsune @plum98)

IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED OR DROPPED FROM MY TAG LIST, PLEASE MESSAGE ME! Don't comment as I might miss it. Thanks!!! ❤️

[stuffnonsenseandotherthings]

15 people, 15 questions

Thank you to both @lurkingshan and @btwinlines for tagging me!

1. Are you named after anyone?

No, but my brother (7 years old at the time) was allowed to pick my name (a risky play by my parents right there) and he picked one that "matched" with his.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday.

I actually don't cry too often unless I'm frustrated or someone else is crying but I was reading Vagabonds by Eloghosa Osunde and the chapter "Gold" hit me right in the heart.

3. Do you have kids?

No and I don't think I ever will for a number of reasons.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I don't play any any more but when I was younger I used to do figure-skating, fencing, and ultimate frisbee (that one was very brief though).

I also do dance but not everyone counts that as a "sport" sport.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Do fish live in water? Yes. It is my love language, my sense of humour, my personality entire.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Probably their height (I'm pretty short, it's hard not to notice when someone is towering over you or when they're actually closer to your height for once).

Also their interests, if I find out someone has a specific interest/hobby within the first meeting then that's going to be my marker for them until I get to know them better (and I will shower them with things linked to their interests in an attempt to befriend).

7. What's your eye colour?

Blue with some grey.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I've watched 2 scary movies in my entire life and have no desire to see any more. Happy endings.

9. Any talents?

I can memorise lots of peoples names very quickly, normally within 20 minutes. Not a very impressive talent but it comes in handy.

10. Where were you born?

Luxembourg, have fun finding it on a map without looking it up.

11. What are your hobbies?

Reading, watching dramas, embroidery, language learning (we're on languages 4 and 5 right now), researching social and cultural history, dance, and musicals/theatre. I also love hiking but it's not something I get to do very often.

13. How tall are you?

Excellent question.

14. What were your favourite subjects at school?

I loved pretty much every subject I did at school (at least until I had to do exams in them) but the ones I never fell out of love with were Literature and Philosophy. History would have made the list but unfortunately the teacher I had for the last 2 years of school ruined it for me.

15. What is your dream job?

The job I'm doing right now. It's true that sometimes I hate it and I've cried plenty of times over it and have even contemplated quitting more times than I can count.... but it also brings me moments of great joy and I can't imagine doing something else, at least not at this point in my life. I think even if I didn't have to work, it's still something I would choose to do with at least some of my time.

I don't have too many people to tag but @waitmyturtles @respectthepetty @twig-tea and anyone else who want to give this a go!

[shadows-of-ghost]

SHADOWs of GHOST Story Masterpost (Reworked)

(Updated as of June 2024 ^-^)

Heyo! Welcome to the SHADOWs of GHOST storyverse, my personal headcanon-filled retelling of the E.G.O/GHOST vs A.L.T.E.R/SHADOW war in Fortnite Chapter 2, Seasons 1-3.

I originally posted all my stories on @ksfnmoments , but have since decided to transfer everything regarding this storyverse over to this blog as well as releasing all future stories here. This masterpost is to help both me and you find things easier. Things included are:

All old and currently new chapters of The Tide Rises, the only currently ongoing story of my trilogy

Small one-shots featuring any of the associated characters

Preview snippets of other WIP stories

Character profiles and backstories, which will individually come out soon :)

Everything is sorted by which story or collection they are part of. I hope this helps💜

Altered Egos

Preview: Journey’s Introduction

Preview: Hunter and the Hunted (Cameo & Rippley)

Preview: Trick Shot (8-Ball vs. Scratch)

Counterespionage

Preview: Prologue Excerpt

Preview: The Device

Lost

Melancholic Melodies

The Tide Rises (Rework)

Origin: Vagabond

Origin: Rifted

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

The Tide Rises (Archived Version)

TTR - GHOST Log #1

TTR - Chapter 1

TTR - Chapter 2

TTR - GHOST Log #2

TTR - Chapter 3

TTR - Chapter 4

TTR - Chapter 5

TTR - GHOST Log #3

TTR - Chapter 6

TTR - Chapter 7

TTR - Chapter 8

TTR - Chapter 9

TTR - GHOST Log #4

TTR - Chapter 10

TTR - Chapter 11

TTR - Chapter 12

TTR - Chapter 13

TTR - Chapter 14

TTR - GHOST Log #5

TTR - Chapter 15

TTR - Chapter 16

TTR - Chapter 17

TTR - Chapter 18

TTR - Chapter 19 (dunno what happened to the next 3 i’ll keep looking)

TTR - Chapter 20

TTR - Chapter 21

Bonus

Character Profile Google Doc:

Mom Friend - Outcast

Mom Friend - Cameo

Mom Friend - Turk

Mom Friend - Remedy

Mom Friend - 8-Ball

[tamelee]

Hi do you read any manga? And which if you can say because I am looking for new ones to read thanks!

Hi ♡!

I am, I just finished 2 Manga from Tatsuki Fujimoto (Creator of 'Chainsaw Man'); Goodbye, Eri (さよなら絵梨, Sayonara Eri) which I thought was really good. This, maybe with a few tiny tweaks has movie-potential for sure. CW though, probably not the best idea to read if you're currently grieving- I wish I knew that 😅. I love the pacing of the panels in this though! Second was Look Back (ルックバック, Rukku Bakku).

Currently I'm trying to read Goodnight Punpun (おやすみプンプン, Oyasumi Punpun).. this is pretty much on every Seinen fans' top 10 list, incl on MAL's.. I'm at Chapter 28 and I don't really get why. Maybe it's just me or- maybe it suddenly will get a whole lot better, maybe it's not for me. I don't know. But apparently the story is really, really good.

I started 'Blame!' and will read 'Vagabond', 'Kingdom', 'Vinland Saga', 'Blue Lock' and 'Samurai 8' soon. The latter because I am curious to see why it didn't do as well despite Kishimoto being so passionate about it. I mean, we all know why as the company kept pushing him to work on Naruto-sequel related stuff- but still. I'm already watching Blue Lock's Anime, but I really like some of the artwork so I want to read the Manga too! Same with Vinland Saga- I don't like the pacing of Season 2 at all but.. I do enjoy the story a lot 🫶

[averydavery]

AO3 Timeline Update + Sketches I haven’t posted yet!

Hello, people of tumblr! I’m here with a report on the update status for all of my unfinished works on Archive of Our Own! For those of you who don’t know, on AO3 my username is Moonshot_Sputnik and I have a variety of fics that I’m known for! My tumblr is the only place where I share my fics so a lot of people come from my AO3 to my tumblr for updates and art or from my tumblr where I talk about my work to my AO3 to read them.

A lot of people have been commenting on my works asking when I’ll update them so I figured I should make a master post about when they’ll come out, both as a means for me to commit to something and as a way to show you guys that they haven’t been abandoned. Below I won’t be linking the works since they generate that whole AO3 pop up and that’s obnoxious. What I will link though is my whole page itself, so here it is:

Timeline

“A Doctor & A Detective Walk Into A Bar” 1/3, last updated on 10/25/2023. (Fandoms: Yakuza and Black Jack). Currently writing the second chapter, expected air date should be before next Saturday.

“More Than Human” 3/?, last updated on 10/12/2023. (Fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist and Dororo). Most popular continuation request and the next thing I was planning to continue, expected air date should be before 11/18/2023.

“When The Swallowtail Flies” 1/?, last updated on 1/1/2023. (Fandoms: Yakuza 0 and Vagabond). Most recent continuation request and oldest incomplete fic on this list, expected air date should be before the end of November.

“Chopping Block” 3/?, last updated on 10/8/2023. (Fandom: Slam Dunk). Most popular fandom I write for and second most requested continuation, expected air date should be between the first two weeks of December.

“Becoming A Myth” 2/?, last updated on 9/9/2023. (Fandom: Ghost of Tsushima). Third most requested continuation, expected air date should be before the New Year.

“Comfort Eagle” 1/1, last updated on 8/8/2022. (Fandom: Yakuza 4). CANCELLED, I do NOT plan on continuing this work.

And that’s all the works that I have that are unfinished currently. Every other fic of mine is completed. On my page I have 13 works both active and completed, as well as 2 drafts that I have given up on (for now) and haven’t posted. The top three fics that I mentioned are of my utmost importance at the moment and I plan on completing them at some point. Updates on the last three will likely vary from when I actually get to them. The first three, however, should be fairly timely. Please be patient with me, as of late I’ve had a problem with starting fics and then not finishing them before moving on. I used to be so good about that. So I swear to all of my loyal readers that they will come out soon!

Anyways… doodles!

Black Jack (2004) redraw + Pinoko and BJ! Cuties!!!

I was John Marston for halloween so I drew him a lot last month. One is oil pastel and the other was while I was at work.

[aplacetosharemyfics]

The Downfall of Susan St. Clair: The Start of a New Chapter

Like the end of Episode 10, this chapter hints at a continuation of the story.

This was my selfish desire for Mrs St. Clair to meet Maisie without the ability to kick her out. WARNING: This chapter contains violence (implied), and descriptions of injuries. Not reading this chapter does not affect the rest of the story - it officially ended with the previous chapter.

They were not expecting guests. No one came round to the St. Clair household uninvited, even door-to-door salesmen avoided the street. So, the knock on the door that Saturday came as a surprise. Susan was upstairs, studying in her bedroom, and arrived at the bottom of the stairs just as her mother opened the door.

“Maisie!”

Dumped on their front doorstep, crumpled and bruised, lay Maisie. In the distance, a car was pulling away, racing off with a holler of laughter. Susan ignored her mother’s shocked gasp and swept past her before she could close the door.

“Don’t touch it, Susan. Who knows what germs it has.”

Maisie was unconscious, a trickle of blood running down her chin from a cut lip. But her breathing was steady. Susan sighed in relief.

“Come inside, Susan,” her mother said, looking down her nose at the scruffy clothing.

Now she knew Maisie wasn’t in immediate danger, Susan stood. She glanced up and down the street.

“What will the neighbours think?” she asked.

Her mother took a sharp breath, her eyes roving the street. Was that someone hiding behind the curtain? Susan tried to keep her smile innocent as she watched the turmoil play out on her mother’s face. Which was better, having a beaten vagabond disgracing her front step, or allowing such a creature into her private property? Her eye twitched.

“Get it out of sight then,” she hissed.

Susan didn’t wait any longer, gathering Maisie into her arms – strong from cheerleading – holding her in a princess carry to carry her inside. Her mother held the door open, giving the street another check before slamming it shut behind her.

There had been a time, Susan remembered, fondly, when the roles had been reserved. Maisie had held her tightly in her arms as she’d fallen asleep, protecting her when her defences had been broken down.

“Not on the good couch!”

Susan paused. She’d automatically headed into the living room, aiming for the large flowery couch where her mother often perched, gossiping on the phone. Her arms were starting to ache. But she waited as her mother fetched a sheet and carefully spread it over the couch so not even a speck of dirt touched the expensive fabric. Finally, Maisie was laid onto the covered cushions.

“I’m calling the police.”

“And have all the neighbours talking?”

Mrs. St. Clair stopped, already halfway across the room. It was true that she’d rather not have the police publicly entering her home. But had her daughter argued a little too quickly? There had been rumours spreading around, particularly after the dance. Had her precious daughter been caught up in the wrong crowd?

At this moment, Maisie awoke. Opening her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, she sat bolt upright, immediately wincing as various body parts complained loudly at the sudden movement. Groaning, she doubled over. Susan rushed to her side, hands dithering as she realized there was nothing she could do to help. She didn’t want to hurt her more. But, when the pain started subsiding, it was Susan’s face Maisie zeroed in on. Gently cupping her face in her hands, Maisie ran her thumbs over her smooth skin, allowing relief to fill her eyes. Her hands shook.

“You’re okay.”

Susan nodded, concerned. She covered Maisie’s hand in hers. What had happened to her?

Mrs. St. Clair coughed. She felt the need to announce her presence as if she was watching she ought not. The girls twitched, finally realizing they were not alone. Maisie, in a panic, tried to jump to her feet. But she had barely left the couch before she fell backwards, hissing at the pain erupting through her body. Susan stood, putting herself between Maisie and her mother.

“Who are you?”

Mrs. St. Clair stalked forward, pushing her daughter aside so she could tower over the little tramp that sat meekly on her couch. Only Maisie wasn’t sitting meekly. Over the initial shock, she was now merely observing her with an amused smile.

“Maisie James.”

The smile only got wider as she noticed the way Mrs. St. Clair’s lips pursed at the mention of her family name.

“And how do you know my daughter?”

At this point, Susan stepped in, forcing her mother to take a step back.

“Because” she explained with the tone one would use with a toddler. “She happens to attend Rydell High.”

Mrs. St. Clair opened her mouth. The familiarity she’d just witnessed between the two girls was not that of two people who would occasionally pass each other in the school corridors. She remembered a conversation they’d shared at the beginning of the year when Susan had vaguely asked about the James family. She’d brushed it off back then.

“Please leave my house.”

“She’s hurt!” Susan protested. “She can barely stand.”

From behind her, Maisie nodded, turning her gaze back to Mrs. St. Clair. It was the same infuriating smile as she looked into her scared eyes.

“Now,” Mrs. St. Clair said, her voice shaking a little. She pointed towards the back door.

“Even if I made it outside, I’d pass out on the grass,” Maisie pointed out. “What will the neighbours think?”

Mrs. St. Clair twitched. Was it just a coincidence? The same phrasing, her daughter standing against her, and the girl who kept smiling at her. Huffing as she failed to come to a satisfactory conclusion, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Susan sank to her knees as the adrenaline suddenly left her. She had finally managed to stand up to her mother. Maisie gripped her shoulder, her hand shaking. Neither talked for a while.

“Who was it?”

Susan swallowed. An asked question hung in the air. She couldn’t look Maisie in the face.

“I didn’t recognize them,” Maisie whispered.

Susan turned around. The brave front Maisie had put up for her mother had slipped. Her voice wavered. There was a hitch in her breath each time she moved.

“Do you know why?”

Reading the fear on her face, Maisie awkwardly reached forward, wincing, to pull Susan into a hug.

“To send a message to Rydell.”

Susan finally relaxed, letting her head fall onto Maisie’s lap. It wasn’t her fault. There were still questions to be asked, and actions to be made towards those who’d attacked her Maisie, but that could wait for a few more seconds.

In the other room, peeking through the crack in the door, Mrs. St. Clair bristled with anger. She hadn’t heard enough of the conversation to completely understand what had happened. But she hated the way her daughter had been pulled into a hug with a complete stranger (in her eyes), and the way her daughter had snuggled into the embrace as if it were the most natural thing to do. As she watched, Susan slowly climbed to her feet, whispering to the girl with an endearing look on her face, before heading to the telephone.

“Dot? Someone’s got a grudge against Rydell. Can you get everyone over here?”

There was a hint of anger to her voice that Mrs. St. Clair had never heard before.

Dot was the first to arrive. She grinned as Susan opened the door, showing off the large bag of popcorn that she’d brought to accompany the discussion. But the smile wavered as she saw Susan’s expression. And, when she spotted Maisie on the couch, bruised and scrapped, the popcorn fell to the floor.

“Angel!”

Mrs. St. Clair blinked watching Dot rush to Maisie’s side. She’d heard the rumours about an angel descending from heaven to save the girls of Rydell. But they’d spread just before the election, and she’d dismissed it as an exaggeration of the other rumours surrounding Jane Facciano. Except, she also remembered the girl who’d phoned after the disastrous dance, asking to speak to Susan. The name she’d given before she’d rudely slammed the phone down was also Angel.

Maisie smiled fondly as Dot fussed, examining every visible surface before meekly returning to clean up the popcorn she’d spilt.

Truth be told, Mrs. St. Clair didn’t know why she was worrying so much over Susan’s friendship with this girl. After all, she appeared just as familiar with Dot. She knew that Maisie James was not the sort of girl she wanted her Susan hanging around with, but that didn’t explain why she had felt so anxious watching the two girls console each other. She watched a little longer. Surely this was merely a group of friends. She pushed her concerns aside and left, missing the whispered conversation that passed between the three.

“What it because …?”

Dot glanced between her friends; eyes filled with worry. To be honest, this was why she’d hurried over so quickly. She wasn’t as innocent as she looked and had already guessed even before Susan explained things more clearly after the fair. Maisie shook her head.

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

She had been walking down the street, enjoying the warmth of the sun against her skin, when the group of girls had surrounded her. The uniforms were familiar, though she couldn’t name the school. Having grown in confidence since she began spending time openly with Susan, Maisie glanced around at them with a relaxed smile.

“How can I help you?”

“You from Rydell?”

Maisie blinked. The words had been spat out. Another girl stepped forward, peering closely at Maisie.

“Yeah! I saw her with them at the fair.”

That would explain why she recognized the uniforms. But the way they were talking was suggesting that being related to Rydell was dangerous.

“We have a little message to send the folks at Rydell.”

Maisie raised her eyebrows.

“I have some paper in my bag?”

“It’s not that sort of message.”

[mogseltof]

3, 10 and 17 for the book ask!

eyyy!

3: Top five books I read this year (excluding answers to the other questions because I ate well this year)

A Very Stable Genius by Philip Rucker and Carol Leonnig (I'm currently waist deep in the follow up "I Alone Can Fix This") which is some of the most detailed investigative journalism applied to biography I've ever read, this thing is a doorstopper and covers the Trump presidency in great detail while still being extremely engaging. I Alone Can Fix This somehow manages to be even better at splitting the focus of its narrative but I haven't finished it yet, these were easily my best impule pick ups from the library this year.

Vagabonds by Hao Jingfang I read for bookclub and it was one of my favourites! The most lasting impression I got from the narrative was one of "Oh this is what it is like to exist while Chinese on the broader internet", it's a sci fi that takes a leaf out of the Dispossessed following the narrative of an 18 year old girl returning home to Mars after spending her teen years on Earth in capitalist society and the effects of everything around that. Very cool and an extremely good author.

Hell House by Richard Matheson is not the most recent release but I only got round to it this year and Jesus H Christ. Prototypical haunted house novel, you can see the fingerprints this thing left over the horror genre in its entirety, I loved every minute of it. Haunted houses, 20s occultism taken too far, seventies paranormal scientists trying to be taken seriously, washed up child psychics, New Age sensibilities put to the test, this thing has everything *pats the roof of this sucker*

The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida by Shehan Karunatilaka I finished while camping in August and is one that's going to stay with me for a while. I loved this book, I loved its presentation of the afterlife, I loved the main character, and it's definitely the 'further reading' book of the year for me given how little I know about Sri Lanka's history, especially in this context of late 80s/early 90s conflicts. This one's my hard recommend of the list.

Leech by Hiron Ennes was deeply fascinating and threw me for the most loops. I love a hivemind and reading from the perspective of one was so cool, especially at the points of [redacted] and [redacted]. I was also totally taken in by the historicality of the setting so when I realised that what I was reading was actually [redacted] it hooked me even more. The interplay with the demographic elements as experienced by a parasitic hivemind was also deeply fascinating, this was my fastest read on this list because once I started I couldn't stop.

Honorary mentions to: The Darkest Web by Eileen Ormsby, Luckiest Girl Alive by Jessica Knoll, The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones, Mister Magic by Kiersten White, Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero (minus the last like, 500 words rip), and Troll Hunting by Ginger Gorman.

10: My favourite new release of 2023

I'm not great at keeping up with new releases but this one goes to my only preorder of the year,

A House with Good Bones by T. Kingfisher, which I absolutely devoured. There's something about the mid century occultists that I find both hilarious and fascinating, and Kingfisher/Vernon managed to hit exactly on what I love about reading about them, while also capturing the horror of being stuck in your racist grandma's house. I'm a huge fan of her protagonists as well, and 'furloughed archaeoentomologist' is overflowing with great character bits and I love her. I want to reread this book now because I opened it up to the first chapter to make sure I was remembering her job accurately and got totally sucked into the vulture commentary in the first few pages. Goddamnit.

In close runner up is Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle because holy fuck man, I read that like 2 days ago and I'm a little bit obsessed. I've known Rose Darlings. I've met all of those characters (except maybe the demons). Incredible work by the Tingler Master.

17: A book that suprised me with how good it was

Fairy Tale by Stephen King. One of my friends gave this to me right at the beginning of the year because she'd bought a copy and then had two friends buy it for her as well, and holy fuck mom. I'm really on and off with King, I love some of his stuff, but when I don't like it I hate it, and Fairy Tale I genuinely loved. There were definitely bits that made me go 'mmm', but King also had the forethought to cover for it in later narration which I appreciated ahahaha. I've never gelled with his fantasies before, so I wasn't expecting to enjoy this one, but this is the closest to a spiritual successor to the Oz novels as I've ever read, and I loved his take on it. Still kind of amazed at how much I loved it.