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independent blog for MAC THE KNIFE of brecht & weill's THE THREEPENNY OPERA written by REN 18+ mature themes present

[extraordinarycrimes]

I haven’t been here in so long that I literally can’t save this blog, so CATCH ME HERE INSTEAD!

Same URL - same Mackie - new blog

[extraordinarycrimes]

so anyway i just wanted to be on here for a quick sec. living on other blogs. will keep this one up for another day or two if you wanna reach out for urls/sk.ype and such to reach me. :)

not deleting mac, i still love him, just gonna poof again. XD

[extraordinarycrimes]

You lookin' t'replace Jack with Mac? Take up the old mantle o' th'Ripper?

“Hah! Y’man do I want tay be Leather Apron? Ole’ Jackie took up after me.” Mac leaned back in his chair, legs wide open and can across his lap. One kid-gloved hand played idly with its handle, turning it to and fro in his lap, and he offered a wolfish smile to his companion, eyes alight with glee.

“Jackie Boy is of no nevermind tay me, ‘s’long as he keeps his knives out of my girls.”

[extraordinarycrimes]

"Loving you is a curse." bring my children back to me <3

meme

Mackie barks out a laugh at that, catching his wee little wench around her waist by the wrists and tugging her down into his lap. He snatches her chin between his sure fingers and holds it still even against her bucking, her attempts to throw him off, dragging her face closer to him.

“Is tha’ so, Moira?” Her name falls out in two syllables, a soft roll of the R, and he licks his lips. He knows he has her, owns her, if her thinking as strayed so far already. His mouth falls into an open smirk at her defiance, the fire raging her in eyes and the pucker of her wrathful mouth, the tilt of her proud chin as his thumb creeps up to pull down her lower lip instead. He doesn’t need to say anything. Doesn’t need to remind her of the power he holds over her.

He lets his hand fall to her clavicle instead, slides it down and triumphantly takes command of her breast--and here in the public of the tavern no less, surrounded by his Boys. He laughs lightly and buries his face into her neck, into the scent of her and her hair, and shifts her so his other arms is looped more lazily around her waist. Lowly, for her ears only, he speaks. “If ye’re so sure of it then, why no’ walk away and free ye’self of me, ah?”

[extraordinarycrimes]

“loving you is a curse” - for Jenny?

i am actually sobbing that someone asked for something foR JENNY THANK YOU I LOVE YOU

meme

Mac swallowed, stared at the rough-hewn ceiling overhead, said nothing. Jenny’s love tasted like ashes on his tongue, anyway, only sweet when a fire burned in one or both of them. His half of the bed was cold half of the time: the customers she always took on her half, so that even when he was out late at night helping to make the ends meet, she could smell him and fall asleep safe. Her perfume left a rotting stink on his clothes, his shirts in particular, which he could never get washed out, a stink he sometimes stole a whiff of when scratching his nose, rubbing his eyes, getting ready to fight. Jenny was always nearby.

Except when he wasn’t, or she wasn’t, and they’d had another fight. Glass shattering against the wall, exploding into multicolored grenade fire, a boot buried in her stomach, her nails raking over his face. Hot temper turning to hot passion. Fucking becoming fighting, fighting fucking, until there was no difference in any of it.

And still she hated him.Ever since the babe had come out dead, she hated him.And that--that was the curse. Mackie’s temper. His rage. His white-gloved fist flying over and over again into Jenny’s face, her stomach, back, kidneys, and when she was down on the ground and sobbing for him, begging for him to stop, then came his big black boots, again and again and again. The bloody, malformed thing slid out of her a few nights later. They never spoke of it. But it haunted them, ruined what they had, ruined Jenny for him and him for Jenny.

Mackie sat up suddenly, grabbed her wrist and yanked her up too, close to him, staring her right in the eyes. His gaze was dead and glassy, emotionless, like a shark’s. His grip was a vice, likelier to snap her wrist than to let it go. His hand trembled in a way his face did not. A decision. At last, at least, a decision.

“Then why don’t I break ye of yer curse?” His hand sprang open and Jenny snatched her wrist away in mortal fear--not that she needed to. Mac had already left the bed, pushing off of it and heading unhaltingly toward the door, even half-dressed and half-drunk as he was, even late as the night was.

Let Jenny Diver have her uncursed bed, and let her keep it.

[cursorium]

send in “loving you is a curse” for my muse’s reaction.

[rpmememaker]

Harass my muse! Anon or not: Ask them hard questions! Bother them about their relationships! Try and make them hot and bothered! Make them cry! Pretend to be their future kids! Anything goes!

[kodaksnacks-blog]

Todays Feeling.

[extraordinarycrimes]

Mmmm. Is there a time that I don't want to fuck you hard, violently even? I want to jump you when you least expect it, shove you down on the bed, my marriage bed even. I want to ravage you, Mackie; make sure that all other women are still ruined for you. I want to mark you from head to toe, leave scratches down your back, bites on your neck, your chest, your thighs. I would keep you on the edge of pleasure until you take your release from me. { This sucks and I'm sorry ;A; }

Tell my muse how you’d fuck them. Tell them your fantasies. Make them horny, flustered–make them need you.

;;at work tbh. man though, your writing was better than my response. you think i should lighten up some on his accent-oriented phonetics?

Mac said nothing; he only smirked at her from over his mug of grog, dark eyes glittering dangerously in the mid-afternoon sun. “Is tha’ so, my darling?”

That wasn’t at all how he remembered things. He remembered being the one to throw her down, spit his venom until her cheeks burned from it, grab her by the ankles and yank her towards him, press against her heated core even as he dismissed every other inch of her body. When they got along–those rare nights when they fucked like nothing at all was twisted in them–he remembered helping her climb up and settle herself atop him, bucking up into her rocking hips. But never once could he recall giving her so much freedom as to do what she pleased, when she pleased, as she pleased.Perhaps her soft new light had softened her memories as well.

Luckily for her, sullying a married lord’s marriage-bed was one of Mackie’s few great pleasure in life, great enough that he did not once doubt that he would let her amuse herself by marking him up and down–he’d let many a whore do it before her, since her, after her, after all–although he did doubt she’d give her so much control as hold his pleasure out from him.

“And what would ye do when I decided yer games were no’ to my liking? When I flipped ye over an’ satisfied myself firs’? Would ye regret your marriage bed then, or only opening it back up tay the likes o’ me?”

[ingloriousmemes]

Tell my muse how you'd fuck them. Tell them your fantasies. Make them horny, flustered--make them need you.

[extraordinarycrimes]

the bulging pocket makes the easy life

🔪  scarlet billows start to spread 🔪

you also liked an ask call! :D

Heavy boots splashed thoughtlessly through the drab, stagnant puddles of London after the rain. Evening was coming on fast, the sun already sinking behind the high steeple of the rundown, unwashed churches, but with his cane swinging wildly by his side and his lips pursed in a perverse whistle, Macheath walked on through the gloom. The tune issuing forth in airy notes was an unsettling one, made of sharp highs and dissonant lows, building upon itself in an uneasy rhythm; a song for the shadows. A song for the men of the shadows, men like Macheath, who so easily owned the uneasy of London after nightfall. His steps slowed, the high whistling notes faltering outside a wrought iron gate as his attention was drawn inside. Rare to see anyone amid the marble rubble of the poorly kept cemetery. Rarer still to see anyone there nightfall so fast upon them. Rarest of all that it should be some frail little slip of a girl, round-faced and golden-haired, too young and too alone to be employed in the ill-usage of her sex after sunset.The thought brought a shark’s smile to Mac’s face.

He pushed the cemetery gate open with his cane despite its protesting whine and resumed again in his whistling ways, swinging the cane adeptly to and fro in one hand, tracing figure eights in the air above cemetery path. He waited until he was much, much closer to hail the wee lass, whom he decided on a whim would be his mischief for the night, stopping in his whistling to shake his head, tsking his tongue at her.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk--’tis a dowie sight, my darling, tay see such a one as ye alone in such a place as this. What sorrows guided ye here at this dismal hour?”

[extraordinarycrimes]

The streets of London are cold and unforgiving, no place for the likes of brightestmccn, sadderforit, and crackedportrait. There is the stink of still water and death in the air wherever you turn: the sky overhead is grey and unforgiving, hostile and uninviting to you in spite of your best efforts. Drunken, bawdy refrains float from out the tavern doors, but even the warm light and mad press of bodies feels dangerous, insecure. The sound of an accordion from inside, despite its bright melody, makes you shiver at its unpleasant subject.

                               𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐨𝐫𝐬,                                        𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞;                                 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭                                      𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞!

                                    Welcome to London, my darlings.

[extraordinarycrimes]

;;Okay! So. Rules, about, synopsis, and relations pages have been successfully updated! Working on verses now, greeter with links and starters to come!

[extraordinarycrimes]

;;Alllllllllllllllllllllllllllrighty Dite! The verses page has been edited and updated! I’ve got a cool one now for the BatB movie, so hmu!

friendly reminder that i have no intentions of making a modern! or present!verse for this blog. :)

[extraordinarycrimes]

;;Okay! So. Rules, about, synopsis, and relations pages have been successfully updated! Working on verses now, greeter with links and starters to come!

[extraordinarycrimes]

;;Hello, everyone! Mmmm, smell that human garbage and vileness, huh? The rules page has been updated; I currently have my about, synopsis, canon connection, and verses pages also up for tweaking/editing. Feel free to drop me a line if you have any ideas or questions for them! Otherwise, most of y’all know the drill, but there are starter calls up for people’s convenience, an ask code for personalized starters on the rules page, and of course my inbox and IM is open if anyone wants to jump into it and just doesn’t know how!

Feel free to bring your questions/concerns to me and I’ll make sure to address them one on one. Threepenny isn’t a popular show and Mackie isn’t an easy character. :)

[extraordinarycrimes]

;;i’m in the mood for a dark little something~ hit the heart?

[damntimcurrywhyyousodistracting]

Tim Curry as Macheath.

Threepenny Opera - The National Theatre - 1986