#Damned by Violence (david king)

[cardierreh15]

Variants

This is just part one of two! Enjoy ⚡️🐺

***I do not give anyone consent to copy, translate or repost my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Angst , Mild Violence .

Pairings: Logan Howlett (Cavillrine) x Ororo Munroe also known as Storm ⚡️

Description: Ororo wakes up in another universe, she meets someone familiar…

Word Count: 4.8K

Song: Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen (but whatever your favorite version is)

Earth-811, Days of Future Present (my own twist) to Earth-199999

Side Note: Please keep in mind, this is not at all accurate and I am only writing something I thought up. Anything from how she got to this Earth from to her meeting Logan is not canon events.

Side, Side Note: Lyrics are in regular italics. Ororo's thoughts are in Italics Bold and OG Logan's voice is in orange italics.

Part One

Now I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do ya?

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing "Hallelujah”

It was a beautiful day on Earth 199999. Not a cloud to be spotted. The birds chirped and there was even a cool breeze to combat the humid air that the season had brought in on its back. But all of that was about to change.

With the bat of an eye, dark heavy clouds rolled into the view of the sun. Blocking out any rays that were toasting up some skins and feeding flowers. Violent lightning bolts filled the sky and loud thunder shook the ground beneath the feet of man. Rain beat down like rocks and the wind blew so strong, it toppled cars and pulled trees from their roots.

In the middle of that chaos, was a woman who would change the entire timeline of this world. Though, she had no idea where she was or whether she was even alive. But she was what this world needed.

Falling unconscious from the thunderous clouds, she collapsed into the pacific. Engulfed and swallowed up by the merciless deep blue. One would think that was the end of this Storm Goddess. But fate and destiny were willing to bend the rules when it came to fulfilling their name.

Upon her contact, the impact of her landing had not only caused hurricanes but water spouts that could tear up an entire island and record breaking tsunamis. Countless lives had been lost upon her ascend.

Months had passed on by and the world was slowly healing from the detrimental damage that came with Ororo’s hard landing. Reporters and storm researchers tried to get to the bottom of what could’ve caused something like this to happen so simultaneously and without warning. The UN (United Nations) had already started on their own journey trying to get to the bottom of it; if it was mutant related and purposeful. As if they give a damn about that really. On her Earth, the United States were the reason why she was here in the first place.

Ororo was found caught in a fishing net in Vancouver. She was well preserved and oddly enough, still warm to the touch. Yet, still knocked into a deep coma that not even inhaling water could wake her from.

A man, not from this plain, had noticed that she wasn’t exactly human. And if the other fisherman had suspected her of being a mutant, they’d have her shipped off to a lab somewhere in the US after they collected their reward. So, he took her back to his home in Alberta, Canada. Far away from society and where he could be himself.

The stranger would come check on the brown sleeping beauty every once in a while. Everyday in the morning before he went to chop wood to aid her fireplace and then once before sunset. She looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly pin it. She was enigmatic! And the feeling of limerence grew the longer she stayed. The way her white finely twisted dreads lay splayed out beneath her head, her thick white brows and lashes. How the shade appeared to enhance her skin and feminine features. Even in her time of nadir, she took his breath away.

Almost like a forbidden kind of beauty. The one that came with a dark past.

Those days had turned into weeks and finally a month had passed since her arrival at the stranger’s residence.

Ororo’s eyes had flashed open, white as her hair as she inhaled so much air that instantly burned her lungs and choked her out.

Sitting up, she placed her hand over her chest before gripping the linens that she wore. She wheezed as salty tears streamed down her face as she fought to breathe. Her vision blurred, her head felt so heavy and it throbbed with an achy vengeance. The words of her lover repeated in her ears.

I love you, Ororo. You don’t have to come back for me. If you find a perfect world, stay there.

She coached herself to steady her breathing as her snowy eyes had faded into something more human. Brown as the Earth’s soil. Ororo hiccuped as her awareness finally hit her like a ton of bricks. She scanned the bedroom for anything to tell her where she was. Or at least, which part of the Multiverse she had landed in.

Pulling herself from the warmth of the heavy comforters, she felt as if she’d been only asleep for a day. Her limbs and balance worked as they did when she was fleeing from the Sentinels. Though, it came with only a little bit of soreness. That was from the battering of the waves.

She whimpered as she rotated her arm to aid the soreness there. ‘Aah. Where the hell am I?’ The bedroom was a piece of paragonal work. Lots of natural light that was let in by 3 large arched windows and a large skylight window that made stargazing comfortable when night came. 

The furniture was vintage; carved out of mahogany and donned with gold handles and knobs. All of the furniture was dusted clean, the mirror at the vanity didn’t see a speck or smudge. A telltale sign that someone had been in here to visit her quite frequently.

With the bedroom’s cleanliness, came no clues of where she was. Ororo began to rummage and search through the dresser drawers and the nightstand. 

Breathing heavily as she felt herself growing anxious with tears filling her eyes, she felt herself falling apart. 

Don’t come back for me. 

Logan please.

I mean it, thundercloud. If you find a perfect world, stay there. 

‘Ooh! Fuck you, Logan!’ She exclaimed through gritted teeth as tears fell from her eyes. ‘Fuck you! Fuck you!’ She exclaimed as she slammed her fists into the mahogany wood that cracked beneath her strength. 

A loud thunder crack echoed outside, with a bolt hitting right outside her bedroom window.

Tiny bolts of lightning danced around her fists as she brought them up before opening her palms. The tiny bolts flickered before vanishing completely and a tear fell in their place. 

Wiping her snotty nose with her sleeve, she took a deep breath and wiped her tears with her free wrist. How was she going to make it without him?

The sound of 80’s rock and roll brought her out of her misery. The same kind of music they’d listen to together on his motorcycle when times were much simpler. She used to peel the clouds out of the sky or simply push them over the next city so they could go riding. 

The smell of his cigar smoke mended into his brown leather jacket. The way his thick dark hair used to fluff about in the wind and how he used to risk their lives by rubbing her arm when she held him tight.

Good times.

Ororo rushed towards the large wooden door and tugged it open with its golden knob. She was met with fresh air when she rushed outside. The sound of the music was no longer muffled by the thickness of those wooden walls. Yet it did echo and bounce off of trees in the surrounding area.

Quickly making her way down the wooden steps, she founded the calls and howls of the infamous Axel Rose. It didn't take her long to find the host; just a cut around the cabin and she was standing in front of it. Catacorner from it was a makeshift garage. Old broken down cars, motorcycles, and tires lie scattered about.

This looked just like Logan’s garage. A mess and unkept.

She felt as if this was all some kind of fever dream. 

Inclined to meet the person who saved her, Ororo began to journey forward until she came across a mature and very large Fir tree that sported claw marks. She walked towards it as the fast music became a blur in her ears. She ran her finger tips over the marks. 

9 claw marks but in threes. She knew only one person who could pull this off. 

‘Oh my god— JAMES!’ Her heart fluttered like crazy as she sped walked to the garage and pushed the doors open. ‘JAMES!’

There he stood, back turned as he worked on his bike. He wore his classic white wife beater, denim jeans and brown boots. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he squeezed the clutch of his bike. She was sure that he couldn’t hear her over the shouting of Guns N Roses and the purr of his motorcycle, so she reached her hand up towards one of the hanging lamps and shot a lightning bolt at it. 

A gleaming smile curled up on her lips with a twinkle in her eye.

That caught his attention, causing him to stand up straight.

There was a long pause before the individual reached over and turned down the old school radio that sat on the toolbox. 

‘You know it’s been a long time since someone called me that.’

His voice… He didn’t sound like the Logan she knew and loved. Though from this angle, he was the spitting image. Her smile remained. ‘Wh-what do you mean we—‘

The male finally turned around to face her. But the cloud of smoke from the cigar that he puffed on, made him impossible to make out.

She used to hate the smell, now she lived for it. Craved it.

‘You still smoke those-‘

Stepping through the cloud, the individual revealed himself. 

His hair was curly thick, styled up to resemble ears as if he were a puppy. The same way her James used to style his hair. He even sported that very same beard cut with the center of his chin shaved and his jaws furry. 

His eyes were bright blue unlike the original Logan’s, comforting brown.

Her smile faltered as she placed a hand on her stomach and took a step back.

‘Hmm.’ The man grumbled as he reached behind him and scooped up a white dirty hand towel to wipe his hands. He held his lit cigar in his jaw before taking it out with his clean fingers.

Ororo stood there, her eyes wide in shock and confusion. Her mouth opened to ask a question but the words just wouldn’t come out!

‘I didn’t think you’d ever wake up. You seem to be walking well.’

He was the one that saved her.

‘H-‘ she swallowed, ‘How long was I out?’

Tossing the dirty cloth on the toolbox, he placed the cigar back between his lips and inhaled greatly. And when he exhaled, another large cloud of smoke shrouded the garage.

‘Well,’ he grumbled, ‘You’ve been here for about a month. I uh— suspect you have no idea what’s going on… do you?’

A month? There’s no way I have been here for a month! I stepped in that portal yesterday! 

Ororo placed her hand on her neck as she felt her blood pressure begin to spike. Her body began to gently rock side to side as her stomach twisted and turned.

‘Wh-where did you find me a-and where am I?’

‘You’re in Alberta…’

Her eyes grew, ‘CANADA?!’

‘Some fishermen in Vancouver found you sleeping in a net with some salmon.’ 

She brought her fingers up to her temples and began to rub that spot when her head began to throb. 

And right on cue, thunder roared outside. 

Logan looked up at the roof as rain drizzled and created a song atop the metal. Then he looked back at her. She appeared to be fighting a migraine. And the more she fought, the heavier the drizzle became.

Then it clicked.

‘You alright over there? Need some pain meds?’ He mumbled with his cigar in his mouth.

‘Mmph! It’s okay just—.’

‘Uh-huh. Y’know, there’s been some dangerous storms going on. Tsunamis, Hurricanes, typhoons, the whole nine.’

‘Mmm.’ Ororo grimaced at the pain, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she clenched her jaw together. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘I don’t know. But, the storms started about 4 months ago.’ 

I’ve been here for four months?! Oh my god.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick.’ Ororo whimpered as her vision blurred once again from tears. Her chest began to heave and her heart thudded hard in her chest.

‘Oh, whatever you do just—‘

Barf. Clear bubbly flim mixed with yellow bile splattered on the smooth concrete. 

‘Take that… outside. Aw shit.’

The woman collapsed to her hands and knees as he rushed over to her aid. She choked as her insides forced and fought to be on the outside. The taste of the raw acid burned at her esophagus and mouth. The rancid taste only made her gag more. 

‘Hey, it’s okay.’

It’s okay, Storm. If we’re meant to be… we’ll be.

Her eyes turned white with tiny bolts dancing around them, heaving harder as she stared at the disgusting vomit.

‘You have to look away! Look at me!’ 

As soon as Logan snatched up her hands, lightning zapped him to hell. 

Fortunately nothing that’ll kill him, but it stung like shit. ‘Aah!’ He hissed as he snatched his hands away, fanning them painfully. ‘Fuck!’

You’re my strong girl.

Ororo shut her eyes tightly as the heaving turned into a sob. ‘I can’t do this without you…’

The drizzle had turned into a heavy pitter patter. Thunder roared outside, causing the tin can of a garage to rattle. 

Logan’s brows tugged into one as the burning tingling began to fade into his hand. He watched as the woman crumbled into herself. 

This wasn’t tears of fear or confusion. But of mourning and grief. He could practically smell the pain exuding off of her. Logan knew what it felt like to lose someone. To be completely lost in a world that didn’t accept who he was. To be alone. 

Reaching out to her, tiny lightning bolts reached out to embrace his fingertips as if they were familiarized with his energy or aura. 

They didn’t burn him this time, just tiny manageable pinches. He placed his palm on her back and sighed softly.

If we’re meant to be…

His mouth parted to say something, afraid to say the wrong thing. 

Ororo blinked her eyes open before looking over at him. 

He was almost the exact same replica of her James. That same mean scowl that she adored greatly.

‘You’ve got blue eyes.’ She said in a hushed tone as she stared into his eyes.

‘You’re very observant.’ Logan said sarcastically with a small chuckle leaving his lips. ‘What is it that they call you?’

My Stormsy. Hey there, my lil’ thundercloud. Hang on lightning bolt! Stormy. 

‘Oro—‘ she sniffed, ‘Forgive me but, I don’t think you’d be able to say my name, white boy.’ She scoffed.

Logan raised his brow, ‘Oh yeah? Try me.’

She tried to muffle her giggle but it fell through, ‘Ororo.’

His brows rose and he blinked hard once.

‘Oro—OK, do you have a nickname?!’

Ororo’s small smile from her giggle had turned into a charming grin as laughter escaped her, ‘Yeah,’ she sighed softly. He was just like him. From his facial expressions to how effortlessly hilarious he was. She was comfortable near him.

‘Storm. Just call me Storm.’

‘Now that sounds… do-able.’ His smirk curled up into a small smile before he felt a raindrop fall upon his shoulder. They both looked up at the ceiling. Another fell on his forehead.

‘Well, that would explain the weather.’ Then wiped his head free of the water and looked back over at her, then it clicked. He was a terrible host.

Her white eyes began to fade into her brown ones.

Glancing down at the barf, he then glanced back at her, ‘You must be starving.’

‘No, no. It’s OK, I’ve been too much trouble already just—‘

‘No, I insist. You haven’t ate—‘

Wrrrrr. Ororo slapped her hand against her stomach as it sang its hunger song, as if she could shut it up like a finger to a set of lips. She snatched her eyes away from his gaze and shut them in defeat.

‘Mmm. I thought so. Alright, up, up, up.’ He took his large hands and helped her to her feet. ’

Rolling her eyes at his condescending tone, she pushed herself up to her feet with his help.

‘Ya alright?’ He asked as he slowly pulled his hands away.

‘Yeah,’ The electricity vanished once again within her, ‘Thank you.’

‘Mmm,’ his head fell to the side, ‘Don’t mention it. Look, I’m gonna get this cleaned up—‘ 

‘James, please—‘ she paused. 

He looked down at her for a long moment. ‘You’re the only one who can get away with calling me that.’ Turning away from her he walked towards the far corner of the garage. 

Ororo let out a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. Were they all the same in every universe? Hardheaded and guileless. Arguments were always challenging with him. 

‘You don’t have to clean up after me, I'm not some kind of damsel in distress.’

‘Well,’ he scoffed as he picked up a bucket and a mop, ‘You were just kind of sleeping beauty for ‘bouta month. I’d say you’re pretty damn close enough. Oh, and— Aurora… mind easing up on the rain until we get the food here?’ 

Her mouth fell before she stammered over her words. ‘We—I—‘

Wait a minute did he just call me beautiful? Damn, they are just alike. 

And he left her inside of the garage to retrieve water for the bucket.

***

Ororo did not in fact keep the rain in check. Instead, when she went back into the cabin she found herself missing James more and more. But, how could she miss him when he was right outside? 

Oh, she was so confused. Stuck in a whirlwind of emotions. But she had to count her blessings. Who knows what would’ve happened if he didn’t find her. She could’ve been poked and pried at beneath wandering eyes. Chopped up in itsy bitsy pieces and thrown in a particle accelerator to be sold to the highest bidder.

At least that was more humane than the chaos that ensued on her world. 

A knock echoed in her bedroom and the sound of the knob twisting followed.

Ororo was bent over the vanity, checking for any oddities that the portal could’ve left her with. So far, so good. The door creaked open and she turned torso to the side.

‘Hey—whoa—‘

With her voluptuous rump in view, she rested her chin on her fist, ‘Your mama ever taught you to knock? What if I was naked?!’

‘Well for one, I did knock. And my mama, didn’t exactly raise a gentleman if you want me to be honest. Come, I’ve got Chinese.’ 

***

The pair sat in silence as they indulged on their take out. Ororo did her best not to inhale all of it so she ate slowly.

Logan chuckled, ‘That’s cute!’ 

Shit, he was on to her.

‘Mmm? What?’ She grumbled as she placed her hand over her lips so that she wasn’t spitting out food.

‘Oh nothing. It’s just you’re trying so hard not to kill all of your food. Eat! Trust me, you definitely need it more than I do.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She said as she stifled her giggle and took another bite out of her food. 

‘Right.’ He snickered and took a sip of his beer. 

The dining room grew quiet once again, soft thunder filled the silent void between them. Not necessarily on purpose but she was studying him. They were eating sweet n sour pork. 

James hated pork. He hated the smell, the salty-ness, the texture and the tummy ache and headache that it gave him after it all. She remembers having to cave in to buying turkey bacon. 

The things you do for love. The sacrifices you make.

James was also right handed. Everything he did started with his right side and eventually the left would aid it. Not that the left was as strong as the right, but when it came to swinging his claws, it always got the job done.

This Logan was an ambidextrous individual. Using both of his hands to work into his food without looking funny. It was so natural.

‘I can feel you burning a hole in my face.’ He murmured as his bright blue hues remained glued to his plate.

It was then when she finally blinked, ‘sorry you just— you just remind me of someone I—‘ she paused as her head fell into her lap.

Logan’s eyes flickered up at her for a second, reading her like a book. ‘Boyfriend?’

She remained quiet.

‘Yeah, I know that look. Sported it a few times myself. Would you like to talk about it?’

Oh she wouldn’t even know where to begin. Should she start with Mystique mercilessly murdering Senator Robert Kelly? Or how her blood contributed to the industrial process of the Sentinels that killed mutants or threw them into concentration camps? How this Logan sitting in front of her could be one of hundreds and maybe thousands of variants of her dead lover?

That was a lot to take in. He wouldn’t even believe her.

‘I—Honestly, I wouldn't even know where to start.’

‘I’ve got nothing but time.’

You take up all my time, Lightning Bolt. A punishment when I have to leave but a reward when I come back home to you. 

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she let out a gentle breath. ‘I’m —‘ Ororo tried to process it herself. If she hadn’t lived it, it wouldn’t have even made sense to her either. 

‘This is going to sound crazy.’ 

‘Trust me, I’ve seen and heard crazy. There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already heard.’ 

He mustn’t be so sure.

Even that little comment was something James would’ve said. Verbatim. 

‘Alright.’ She sat up straight and let out another breath of air, ‘I’m not from… here.’

Logan sat quietly. She had his full and undivided attention.

‘I’m not from… here.’ She repeated.

‘Oookaaaay, I think I got that the first time.’ He sighed and folded his arms together. ‘What do you mean?’

Damn it was a lot harder to say than she thought. Perhaps she try a different approach. She would talk about… him.

‘My boyfriend… he uh— he was one of a kind. Smart, goofy, sweet… he was everything I dreamed of. He uh— and his brother had it rough. His family was well off… and in most cases the mother and father weren’t around much thus, was raised by their nanny. One night, some man comes into their home and kills their father. It was then when he discovered his powers. He grew—‘ 

Ororo glanced down at Logan’s fist as his fingers tapped against the table cloth. 

‘Claws.’ Her gaze rose to his once again. ‘He stabbed the man in hopes of getting to avenge his father… but it was then revealed to him that the stranger was in fact he and his brother’s biological father.’

Logan stared at her in complete horror. But he remained calm.

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.

‘What then?’ He asked before picking up his beer once again. 

‘He and his big brother ran away. Fought in World War II. Years later he met me at Xavier’s School of Gifted—‘

‘Youngsters.’

‘Youngsters.’ She repeated slowly. 

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head, ‘How do you— How do you know all of that?!’

Swallowing her spit, Ororo pressed her lips together, ‘I know — so much more, Logan.’

‘So what, do you read minds like Charles?!’ His voice was a little bit more stern than before.

‘Ja-Logan, it’s not like that! I—I come from a different timeline!’

His eyes grew in disbelief and he raised his hands, ‘Alright. That’s enough sweet n sour pork for you. Now you’re just talking out of your ass.’ He reached over to grab her container but she grabbed his wrist tightly. It was heavy. Just as she thought.

‘Has it ever occurred to you why or how a complete stranger would know your name?!’ 

‘Maybe you’ve been looking at my mail?!’

‘Your name is James Howlett! You had a brother named Liev, also named as Sabertooth—‘

‘What?!’ He chuckled.

‘You were born 1882! Here in Alberta, Canada.’

‘These are all things you can look up on google sweetheart.’ He said as he gently pulled his fist away.

‘That would make sense if I could use google in my sleep!’ She bit back. She watched as he pulled her styrofoam container away. ‘And I don’t think you added your Adamantium skeleton to the census.’

I did my best, it wasn't much

I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch

I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool ya

And even though it all went wrong

I'll stand before the lord of song

With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah

He stared at her for a moment before swallowing hard.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about? That metal doesn’t even exist.’ He added as he carried off their take out to the kitchen.

Now, she was annoyed. She folded her arms across her chest and slouched back against the wooden chair with her full lips in a slight pout. That was until she realized what he said.

‘Wait—‘ she quickly stood to her feet and walked into the kitchen, ‘I never said anything about Adamantium being metal!’ 

Logan opened the refrigerator to place the containers inside, ‘You didn’t? Well, it sounds like it would be metal. The “Tium” at the end of it adds the razzle dazzle.’ 

Ororo was growing irritated with his banter. So she snatched the refrigerator door handle and slammed it, not caring much if the food was in there properly. Her backside was pressed firmly against the cool stainless steel.

‘Hey!’ He glared at her.

‘You asked me if I wanted to talk about it and I AM—‘

‘I didn’t ask you for a damn biography on my life!’

Her head fell to the side before looking down at his fists. 

‘Show me.’

Logan stepped back, his thick brows tugging into one. ‘Show you what? There’s nothing to show you!’ 

‘I want to see them! Show me!’ 

‘Lady, you’re really losing it right now.’

‘I WANT TO SEE THEM— NOW!’ She exclaimed as her eyes glowed white with lightning and she raised her hand to cast a lightning bolt at his chest. 

The white electricity sent him flying back against the wall, leaving a large cave in, in its place. He fell to his hands and knees as he groaned and howled in pain. White lightning bolts danced and trickled around his torso, arms and neck. ‘GUH—AAUURGH!’ 

She hadn’t realized what she’d done until it was too late. ‘Oh my god! James!’ Ororo rushed over to him but stopped in her tracks when she heard the unsheathing of his blades. 

She blinked away her glowing eyes as he painfully pulled himself up to his feet. Bubbles of saliva dripped from between his teeth. At his sides were those infamous Adamantium claws. They were beautiful. 

She glanced up at him in caution as she began to slowly approach him. 

Logan growled, taking a step back as he breathed heavily through the pain. 

‘James please, I’m sorry! I know all of this sounds crazy ok? You have to believe me.’

‘B-believe y-you?! Hell, I d-don’t even know you!’ He sputtered through the pain.

The words pained her, ‘I-I deserve that. But I know you.’ She finally walked to him and reached out to wrap her small hand around his fist. Logan turned his head away from her.

Maybe there's a God above,

but all I've ever learned from love,

was how to shoot at someone who out drew you.

And its not the cry you hear tonight,

its not somebody who's seen the light.

‘In a different time— you loved me. And looking at you now…’ she placed her hand against his jaw and turned his gaze back towards her, ‘Means that I have a second chance. Think about it, you went all the way to Vancouver … you had no idea I was there but you came there for me.’

Logan stared down at her, his heaving panting began to slowly return to normal.

‘I know that you hate New Age music, I know that your hobbies include choking down cigars and chopping wood. I know that you love riding your bike on sunny days in the mountains! I know that you dreamed of living in a small cabin like this one.’ Her voice cracked as she did her best to fight back her heartbreak. He never got to see the life he deserved.

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

‘I know that you’ve moved far away to keep from hurting others. I was there, Logan.’

Ororo’s words were almost inaudible; being choked up with tears, she stared up into his eyes as she fought hard not to cry again. 

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Sheathing his blades back into the safety of his knuckles, he reached up to grab her fist gently into his large hand. 

‘How much did you love me—him?’

‘Oh James…’ her eyes fluttered as a thick warm tear fell down her cheek. ‘With all of my being…’

Those words ached him a little as if he knew that she did, as if he witnessed her love for him. He’d fallen in love many times. But they never amounted to anything in the end. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Maybe—

If we’re meant to be— we’ll be.

Ororo burst into a gut wrenching sob before Logan brought her into his strong, heavy arms. He rested his cheek atop her head as she soaked his filthy wife beater. 

Hallelujah. 

[wiserodin032402]

Violence in Fiction: what it means to be ‘good’ at violence and why D&D will never deliver

The TTRPG dev writes about TTRPGs. Astounding.

So since the Kobeni post keeps printing notes I decided it’s time to talk about violence.

You know, the good shit. Combat. Rolling initiative. Seeing big damage numbers.

Last big post I talked about how Kobeni from Chainsaw Man is a traditional D&D Fighter. Link Here:

https://www.tumblr.com/wiserodin032402/703497105280483328/kobeni-from-chainsaw-man-is-a-dd-fighter

Now we gotta talk about what it means to be good at violence means. In a fictional way. When I say Kobeni is only good at ‘mundane’ violence, I mean she’s really good at not getting hit and killing singular people okay. She kills people with a completely mundane (as far as we know) knife. Human opponents basically don’t stand a chance against her.

But what does it mean to go beyond mundane violence? Let’s use an example character.

Maya from Kill Six Billion Demons

(Read K6BD here: https://killsixbilliondemons.com/comic/kill-six-billion-demons-chapter-1/)

She’s a former universal conqueror and a student of the greatest swordswoman to ever live. When she properly introduces herself to Allison, the main character, she says this:

She doesn’t introduce herself as a swordswoman, and in fact her own teacher, Meti-ten-Ryo, considers herself a student of the principle art of cutting as well. In her sword manual (in flavor texts around the comic) she states that there is no such thing as a sword, that in order to master the sword you must instead wholly devote yourself to violence in all aspects of your being, and mostly talks about cutting.

Cutting is the sanctioned action.

What does this ability look like in action?

This is Maya’s response to a bullet. She doesn’t dodge. She doesn’t duck. She doesn’t draw a weapon. She looks at the bullet and it is cut.

"Beware the swordsman who carries no blade." -Proverb; KSBD 4-70

But as shown in the art at the start, she does carry a blade. A broken one. But what does it look like when she uses it? What does the art of cutting look like?

It looks like this:

Maya does not fight her opponent here, 6 Juggernaut Star, an incredibly powerful angel. No, she simply slays their form in a single strike with some amount of effort. Juggernaut Star enacts violence upon others, but Maya lives and breathes violence as an art form.

There are many characters like this in Kill Six Billion Demons, one of the strongest being

Solomon David

He’s more aligned to the idea of the D&D monk than anything else, but it’s still good to go over because, well...he’s very fucking good at violence.

Beware the splash zone, gore warning below.

He kills and entire arena of contestants in under a second. Not using any magical powers from his Key of Kings. But with a special breathing technique and years of practicing the rare martial art of Ki Rata.

All of this is also damn near impossible to mechanically translate to a tabletop role-playing game if you care about things like ‘balance’ or ‘encounter structures’ like D&D does.

Fundamentally, your D&D Fighter, who only does combat, cannot be good enough at combat to take that niche for themselves.

If they could, a healthy chunk their abilities would revolve around instantly killing amounts of opposition, just like how Rogues can rig their skill checks to be so high you shouldn’t even bother, and Spellcasters can pull out a spell to instantly solve situations (including combat sometimes). If these other two thirds of the game can be solved like this, then Fighter, the class that fights, and only fights, should be instantly resolving combat.

In fiction, characters who are transcendent in combat don’t fight their opponents, they deal with them instantly unless their opponent is on the same level as them or above them.

But this isn’t possible in D&D, as it would either need to quantify this ability as a resource, or would need to necessitate dealing an excess of damage. There’s also the third issue: that the rest of the game isn’t developed enough for one class to make Combat the thing they solve reliably and instantly.

Since the combat is the only developed part of the game, it remains the only reliable challenge, so all classes have to have a way to participate in combat. Fundamentally, you can’t have a class that solves combat directly, because then the game is boring.

Which leaves D&D’s combat (outside of spells) as modeling only basic weapon attacks, from the start of the game to the end of the game. Even in 3.5 and Pathfinder with their combat maneuver system, it requires too many player resources to utilize what are ultimately situational and mundane tricks (even if they are fun to do).

Finally, all editions have a strange fixation with the grittiness of unarmed combat. No one knows how to punch anyone unless they’re a Monk or spend excessive amounts of character resources to attain this legendary ability. A Fighter, someone who trains only to kill other people day in and day out, to the detriment of all other skills, is worthless without a weapon. The mere act of striking another human with a closed fist is simply alien to them.

Since a Fighter cannot be dominant at violence, cannot transcend their need for a weapon, and cannot attain any form of enlightenment from their constant training for violence, they are at level 20 how they started at level 1:

A weak-willed fool who clings excessively to a worthless length of metal

[spidercookie18]

𝕋𝕃𝔹 𝔾𝕠 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕆𝕍𝕀𝔼𝕊!

I realized; while rewatching some spooky movies, that TLB would/could have watched some of the ones I like. So, while i was watching the movie, I wrote what I imagined the boys would say. You can rewatch the movie along with the post if you don't remember some scenes so well, but there is a bit of explanation for the scenes in italics.

Anywho, here's TLB watching Creepshow (1982)

Word Count: 3k ish Tags: General violence, swearing, mentions of drinking, smoking, sa, gore, death, bugs - it get's kinda itchy at the end

Marko was dying to come watch this new horror movie, Dwayne was already an avid Stephen King reader at this time, and David thought it looked relatively interesting, so off to the movies they went. Paul just went because he wanted skittles and popcorn.

They went opening day. Got their snacks and went to find some seats.

They sat in the middle of the back row, the order was Paul on the left, Marko, then Dwayne, and David on the right. They are the kind of people to talk through the entire movie; so, if it helps, you can imagine them speaking through their bond.

Opening Scene:

Marko: Pssst, Dwayne pass the popcorn.

Dwayne: I don’t have it, ask Paul.

Paul: Nah man, I have my candy. And its only MINE tonight

David: Marko, here’s the popcorn, but I want it BACK. *Reaches over Dwayne who shifts uncomfortably away from David’s arm*

Marko: Cheers man.

Paul: Dude, stop saying that.

Marko: But I like it :(

*House comes into frame*

Dwayne: Hey, like that pumpkin

Paul: Hey, we should make pumpkins.

Marko: I’ve been saying this!

David: Dude that dad is a dick.

Dwayne: Who does that remind you of

David: We should egg his house before we go home.

Paul: Ayeee sex books *high fives Marko*

David: Damn, all that over a book?

“All that horror crap-Dead people coming back to life?”

Paul: Hey, dead people can come back to life.

*Creep comes into frame*

Marko: Woaaah, someone needs to moisturize.

Dwayne: Thank fuck we don’t have to worry about the Sun anymore.

David: Marko, popcorn

Story One: Father’s Day

*Well-dressed people come into frame*

Dwayne: Get a load of these assholes.

David: Fuck, I want a cigarette now.

Marko: Who eats like that?

Paul: *chewing with his mouth open*

Marko, Dwayne, David: *stare at Paul* Gee, who knows.

“Wasn’t she the one who killed her father?”

Dwayne: Honestly, same

“When he was 184, he had a stroke.”

Paul: Hey, David, aren’t you coming up on 184?

David: Ahaha, fuck you *chucks popcorn at him*

“She based her father’s head in with a marble ash tray.”

David: Dude, I need that ash tray.

Marko: I’da killed his ass too if he shot my husband *rubs Paul’s arm*

Paul: *Is turning the box of candy into his mouth, feels Markos hand on his arm. Looks down and smiles with a mouth full of candy*

*A driver speeding down the road comes into frame*

Dwayne: Damn, that old broad likes to speed.

“I need my caaaakeeee you dirty bitch.”

David: Fuck your cake buddy, your old ass needs a dirt nap, eh?

Marko: Get his ass.

Paul: *chomp chomp chomp*

Dwayne: She didn’t even bash his head in, he just got hit one time… I’ll show you how to bash a head in… *grumbles*

David: Easy big guy, we’ll go fuck with Max later.

“Everything I wanted he wanted for me!”

Marko: *mockingly in a bad British accent* Chew bich, chew dorty bich

*The dead come back*

Paul: Guys! Jim bean is the elixir of life.

David: This fucking guy still wants that damn cake?!

*Dancing couple*

Marko: Awe, Paul, we should dance.

Paul: *waggling his arms around trying to Vogue* You like my moves?

Dwayne, David: *start copying Paul and wiggling their arms around in bad dance moves*

*Cemetery scene*

David: Dude, what the fuck are you doing out there, eh?

Dwayne: *leans to David’s ear* Your Canadian is showing.

David: Oh, fuck off… I need a cigarette.

Paul: Hey, that headstone is falling…. No seriously dude its falling…

Marko: Is he not gonna move??

Dwayne: Dude!

Marko: The dead zombie guy is the least of your worries you gotta move!

*CRUSH*

Paul: Ope… too late.

David: *Grumbling about his cigarettes*

“He’s your husband, I don’t even like him.”

Dwayne: Catty *chuckles*

Paul: Yooo, I think the maid is dead.

Marko: He’s still on about that fucking cake.

*In the parlor*

Marko: You think I could pull off the two chains look?

Dwayne: Honestly?

Paul: Marko, he can’t even- wooaaaah.

David: Ayeee he finally got his cake.

TLB: *halfheartedly applaud*

Story Two: The Lonesome Death of Jordy Verrill

*Jordy comes into frame*

Marko: Woah! David, he looks like you!

David: Shut the hell up, my teeth aren’t that big.

Paul: *snickering* No, they are.

David: *growls*

Dwayne: *Grabs David’s chin and wiggles his head side to side* Oh come on, it’s cute.

David: *sneers at him and pulls his head away. *

“Dat’s a meteor”

Marko: *mockingly* dats a meteor

“200 for dat dere meteor”

Dwayne: Dude, ask for more money.

David: Aren’t you a communist?

Dwayne: …shut up.

Marko: *mockingly* idjits

*Jody getting water from the well, sticks his fingertips in his mouth*

Paul: Ew, those things were in his mouth.

David: Yeah, that can’t be good.

*Jody dumping out the meteor juice*

Paul: Hey, what do you think they used for the glowey stuff?

David, Dwayne: Glow sticks

Paul: But it hissed when it touched the ground.

David: *chewing popcorn* They add the sounds after they film it.

Paul: Oh… Hey we should get glow sticks.

Dwayne: If you’re good, we can get glow sticks.

Paul: YUS

“Meteor shit!”

Marko: *giggling* oh this guy is gold!

*Meteor plants start growing outside*

Dwayne: Oh damn, he’s still sucking on his fingers.

David: Well, he obviously isn’t very smart, now is he Dwayne.

Dwayne: *stares at David* Don’t start with me.

David: *snorts *

*Doctor scene*

David: I don’t trust that doctor…

Dwayne: *with his fingers waggling in David’s face; making a voice* It’s going to be extreeeemely painfuuullllll

David: Shut up, dork.

Dwayne: You’re the dork.

*Plants growing all over Jordy’s body*

Paul: Hey, you think that thing can grow weed?

Marko: Paul, you idiot. It’s killin him.

Paul: Well, I know that! But, like… it looks sticky.

*Jordy goes outside*

Marko: Wow, that got everywhere fast.

Paul: Yeah, that might be too much weed.

David: Never thought you’d say that.

*Jordy pulls out a bottle and a pitcher*

Dwayne: Woah, that’s too much vodka…

Paul: Buddy’s gonna die.

Marko: I think he’s already dying.

David: Oh, I’m gonna need a drink if you guys keep talking.

Marko: Cheers

“I’m growin”

Paul: Me too Jordy, me too *eats some skittles*

*TV tone*

David: Fuck, I’m so glad we don’t have a tv in the cave.

*Shows Jordy’s house covered in green*

Marko: *eating popcorn* we should do that to Max’s house.

David, Paul, Dwayne: Agreed

*Jordy, checks his pants*

Dwayne: Is it on his dick!

Marko: *clutches his jewels*

David: Oh, that’s gotta suck.

*Jordy gets into the tub*

Marko: I wouldn’ta done that.

Paul: Yeah. That’s horror movies 101.

*Jordy pulls out shotgun*

Dwayne: Woaaah, dude, it’s not that serious.

David: No, I’d do the same thing.

*BANG*

TLB: Ayeee *claps*

Marko: Cheers

Paul: Dude, fucking knock it off

Marko: Fucking make me >:[

Story Three: Something to Tide you over

*Nice apartment comes into frame*

David: Ugh, I hate that tile.

Paul: You would

“I can bench-press 300lbs.”

Marko: Pleeeease, that’s nothing

Paul: What a nerd

“We were gonna sit you down and tell you.”

Paul: Hey that guy is touching the tv! That’s not your tv!

“There will be no alimony, none of that crap.”

David: Alimony? That old guy used to bone that guys wife?

Dwayne: I think the guy in the robe is banging the old guy’s wife.

*Pulls out tape recorder*

Marko: I should get a tape recorder.

Dwayne: How many people are you torturing and kidnapping?

Marko: Mind your business.

David: If that guy threatened MY bitch… *starts growling*

Paul: Yeah, you tell em David! Don’t touch my bitch or my tv!

“She’s waiting for her knight in shining corduroy.”

David: Yeah, tell no one where you’re going, idiot.

Paul: Noooo, he killed his wife??

Marko: that’s an empty grave, for sure

“Jump into that hole.”

Dwayne: Fuck that, hit him.

David: Idiot hopped in

Paul: Maybe he’s got a plan.

Marko: His plan is to die.

“You’re not gonna burry me alive.”

David: *chewing popcorn* But you’re already in the hole ain’tcha bud?

Dwayne:

David: Don’t say it.

“I’ll let ya see Becky.”

Paul: I don’t believe him.

Marko: Gee, what made you think he wasn’t trustworthy?

*Crab*

Dwayne: *cracking up* Get his ass.

Paul: OMG! That’s a big crab!

Marko: HE KICKED IT!

David: *snickering*

*TV of the Becky*

Paul: Fuck, he buried her?

Dwayne: That’s a bit harsh.

Marko: I could get out of that.

David: No, you couldn’t

Marko: Yuh-huh

Dwayne: It’s packed, wet sand, you couldn’t get out of it.

Marko: Bet I could.

Paul: Uh-oh, tides comin

David: Marko, you would drown.

Marko: I bet you a week’s hunt that I could.

Dwayne: For the both of us

Marko: Yeah, sure, fine. If you win, I’ll do the hunting for both of ya for a week.

Dwayne: And on the very slim chance that you win?

Marko: You guys do my hunting for a month.

Paul: Oh no, the tv is getting wet.

Dwayne: Fine.

David: …how did he keep it running for so long, I thought it was hooked up to the Jeep…

*Interior, old guy’s house*

David: Ugh, I hate those statues.

Paul: I hate how this guy treats tv’s.

Marko: I hate that they haven’t gotten out of the sand yet.

Dwayne: I hate how stupid you are.

Marko: *Nips at Dwayne*

Dwayne: *wagging his finger in Marko’s face* You get one.

Marko: *grunts* David, gimmie the popcorn

David: *hands him the popcorn*

*Drowning scene*

Marko: Fuck, these people take forever to die.

*Interior, night scene*

Dwayne: Dun dun dun!

Marko: Man, they are getting seaweed on everything…

“I’m warning you; I have a gun!”

Paul: *yelps*

David: Geeze, Paulie, it’s a movie.

Paul: Not that. I dropped my skittles!

David: Why am I not surprised…

Marko: I knew this would happen, *reaches into his jacket* that’s why I got ya these *hands unopened skittles box to Paul.*

Paul: Oh man do I love ya.

*Shooting the drowned*

David: Ew,

Dwayne: Ya know, he should really have a guard.

Marko: Or a dog

Paul: We should get a dog.

David: *stretching his arms above his head* You’d never feed it.

Paul: But someone would

David: Yea, *pulls his shirt down over his tummy* I’d end up being the asshole to feed it.

Dwayne: Oh snap, they buried his ass *laughs*

Marko: That’s wicked

Paul: David pleaseeeee

David: The poor thing would die of neglect.

Paul: *pouts*

Marko: *pats his arm* it’s okay Paul, we’ll get you a dog.

Paul: really?

David: NO, YOU WONT

Paul: :(

Story Four: The Crate

*Janitor flipping a coin comes into frame*

Dwayne: 5 bucks he’s gonna drop it.

*CLANK, rolls*

Dwayne: ooooh! You owe me 5 bucks!

David: No one bet you, dork.

*Garden party*

Marko: Damn, that lady is so loud.

Paul: Math department???? *sneers*

David: I hate that dress.

Marko, Dwayne, Paul: You would

David: >:(

*Lady in red dress keeps talking*

Dwayne: Holy fuck, does this lady ever shut the hell up?

Paul: How, uncouth

Marko, Dwayne, David: *stare at Paul*

*Janitor on phone*

Dwayne: 1834?

David: Don’t say it.

Paul: *snickers*

Marko: Well, whatever’s in there should be long dead.

David: *sighs*

Marko: Like David

David: Fuckers

“Hey Wilma!” *BANG*

Paul: Oh damn!

Marko: Thank Christ

Dwayne: THEY’RE CLAPPING?

David: Oh please, you’d kill her in a heartbeat.

“It came from the Artic?”

Paul: Daavid, where’s the Artic?

David: *burping* Yukon

Paul: Oh, okay

Marko:

Marko: You have no idea where that is do y-

Paul: No, not a clue

“It’s like, something moved on its own.”

Marko: What do ya think is in there?

Dwayne: Snow devil

“That tobacco smell makes me want to Ralph” *strangle*

Dwayne: Damn, he wants to kill her so bad.

David: Welp, I can see where this is going *reaches into his pocket to pull out a flask*

Dwayne:

David: *takes a swig*

Dwayne: *pouty face*

David: Fine, but don’t tell the others.

Dwayne: *takes a quick swig*

*Opening the crate; chimp noises*

Paul: Aww, it’s a little monkey.

Marko: Paul, it’s probably not a monkey.

Dwayne: Don’t stick your hand in there.

David: DO stick your hand in there.

*CHOMP*

Marko: Yup, not a monkey

*Janitor slumps against crate*

David: I would movie from there

*Yeti face*

TLB: HOLY SHIT *they cling to eachother*

*Chomp chomp chomp*

Dwayne: great mask!

David: Fucking sick

Marko: Those teeth are so real!

Paul: Hold me Marko

*Yeti moving the crate in the basement*

David: Ope, what’s he up to

*Blood trails*

Paul: I’m getting hungry.

Dwayne: I bet the damn thing is too.

Marko: *munching popcorn* Shhh, eat your skittles.

David: Marko, munchies me *puts his hand out to Marko.

Marko: *dumps a fist full of popcorn in David’s hand, spilling all over Dwayne*

Dwayne: *dusting off his lap* fuckers!

*Grad student going under stairs*

David: *munching popcorn* Oh yeah, go under there.

Marko: Why’d you pick up the shoe like it’s gonna do anything?

*Yeti attacks; grad student hits it with wrench*

Dwayne: You shoulda hit that thing a lot harder.

Paul: Guys, I’m gettin hungry.

Marko: *shoving the popcorn bucket to Paul* We’ll eat later. Besides, Dwayne and David are doing my hunting for the next month.

Dwayne: We gotta burry your stupid lil ass first

Marko: IM GONNA DO IT!

*Guy with shitty wife going to university basement*

David: I don’t believe, for a second that someone shipped a man killing, blood thirsty yeti without telling anyone. There should be records or something.

Paul: *snorts* Okay, Mr. ‘I keep all my files since the 1800’s.’

Marko: I don’t believe anyone would be that stupid to go down there with a gun.

Dwayne: I do

*Watching the man clean up the blood*

Marko: That’s a good friend

Dwayne: That’s a bad co-worker

David: He assaults a girl and kills her and then tries to hide it?

Paul: Wait, is that what’s happening?

Dwayne: That’s what he thinks is happening.

David: Nah, he’s tryna lure his bitch wife there.

*Wilma driving over holding a glass*

Marko: This bitch got milk?

Dwayne: Where’d the fucking yeti go?

David: *jokingly* he’s shy *bats his eyelashes*

“What kind of a mess has Dex gotten himself into?”

David: *tittering*

“How bad did he beat her? Is she conscious?”

Marko: This bitch is sick.

“The girl is under the stairs; she won’t come out.”

TLB: *watching intently*

“DINNERTIMEEEE”

David: Maybe divorce woulda been easier *giggling*

Dwayne: At some point it shoulda been.

Paul: Is he trying to kill her?

Marko: Where the hell did that stupid yeti go?

“No good at all in bed, when was the last time you were a man in our bed?”

David: *snickering*Ruthless

Marko: Wow this thing can really sleep through an episode.

“Just tell it to call ya billy.”

David, Dwayne: *cracking tf up*

*Closing the crate*

Dwayne: I can’t believe this thing never broke out of a stupid wooden crate.

Paul: Where is he taking that thing?

Marko: Bet he’s gonna kill it.

David: He’s definitely gonna kill it.

Dwayne: I’d kill it.

Paul: WHY?

Marko: The hell do you mean ‘why’?

Paul: He was just hungry! Like us! You wouldn’t kill us!

David: *takes a swig* Sometimes, I think about it.

Dwayne: Let’s get a big crate to put Paul in

Paul: NOOOOOOOOO

Dwayne: Ah we’re just kidding Paulie * reaches behid Marko to punch Paul’s arm*

“That thing is drowned in its box 70ft down.”

David: It survived 150 years, no food, no water, no sunlight. Bet it’s not dead.

Marko: Oh, NOW he breaks out of the damn box.

Dwayne: The damn thing was just being lazy.

Paul:

Paul: You guys don’t actually think theres yetis do ya?

Marko, Dwayne, David:

David: That one really scared ya, eh?

Paul: Just a bit

Marko: We could kill a yeti no problem!

Dwayne: Yea, and then Marko would have something new n’ furry to tie to his bike haha!

Story Five: They’re Creeping Up on You

*Scientist and a jukebox come into frame*

Dwayne: Man, haven’t seen one of those in a while.

Paul: They were soo cool.

Marko: You think that vaccum thing could suck other stuff?

David: I DARE you to put your dick in that.

“There’s not gonna be anymore damn bugs!”

David: *eating the last popcorn in his hand* What the hell did bugs do ta him?  *snorts*

Marko: Thank God we’re never gonna go bald.

Dwayne: Max can’t say the same.

Paul: *snickers*

“They’re dying of carbon monoxide poisoning.”

Paul: Hey, David, what’s carbon monoxide?

David: Poison

Marko: THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE AN APARTMENT?

Dwayne: Bet he’d have a stroke if he saw the cave.

Paul: Yeah, but we don’t have a ‘bug problem’

David: Not one that matters.

*Cockroach on his glove*

Paul: EW EW EW NAStYYYYY

Marko: SICK

Dwayne: Guess they’re not gonna put the ‘no animals were harmed in the making of this film’ at the end.

David: Oh, that’s seriously a bad roach problem.

“Yes, he told me your husband went out with a ‘bang.’”

Paul: This guy is a serious douche.

Marko: *winces* I feel bad for laughing.

“You can take your wife and kids to Disneyworld on your fucking welfare check.”

Dwayne: I’m gonna eat this guy.

*Checks the food processor*

Marko: Omg, he didn’t…

Dwayne: He did!

Paul: I’m gonna be sick *fake sobs*

David: Hey, I kinda like that trick

“You people, people of color”

Marko, Paul: Woah

Dwayne: Not shocked

David: I’ve never heard a black person talk like that in real life, why do they make them talk like that?

Dwayne: T’s Hollywood man, they’re super fucking racist.

*Roaches in the ceiling, drain, walls*

Dwayne: Hey now, this shit is starting to make me itch.

Marko: Tell me about it. I used to live in New York, it’s really fucking bad.

Paul: Maybe he should just move.

David: *takes a long swig*

Paul: *starts itching vigorously*

*In the clean room* “I hope you die.”

Dwayne, Marko: *shudders*

Paul: Oh gnarly! I’m gonna hurl.

David: *subtly itches his forearms*

“What’s the matter Mr. Pratt, bugs got your tongue?”

Paul: Oh, I’m not hungry anymore *gags*

Closing Scene:

*Garbage men come into frame*

TLB: *scratching*

“We can’t get a voodoo doll?”

TLB: *still itching and scratching*

*Voodoo Doll scene*

Marko: *scratching his thighs* good for him, he got the doll to work

Paul: *scratching his neck* Yeah, those things never worked, remember the one we got for Max

Dwayne: *scratching his arms* Actually, me n David got it to work

*Roll credits; the boys get up to leave*

Marko: Really? *Scratching his shoulders*

David: *scratching his stomach* Yeah, see the trick was to use both our magic, instead of one

Paul: *scratching the backs of his hands* So what did you guys do?

David: We set him on fire.

Marko: Ah

Marko: Hey, lets go burry me!

Dwayne: Anything to get those damn roaches out of my mind.

TLB: *shudder*

[its-to-the-death]

Bracket B thoughts:

"Yodel-Aadle-Eedle-Idle-Oo" is better than I expected from the movie's reputation, but I really only have so much tolerance for yodeling. Also the lines "You'll suffer till the end of time / Enduring tortures, most of which rhyme" from "Robot Hell" are hilarious.

...It's fucking "In the Hall of the Mountain King." I don't need to explain that one.

"Kidnap the Sandy Claws" isn't as bad as I remembered it being, but the verses that don't rhyme really irk me for some reason, and Lock+Shock+Barrel's singing is just...not great. So I'll give this one to "Big Shot."

"Wait for It," I will begrudgingly admit, is a good song. It's not the best villain song in that matchup, though. It's not even Burr's best villain song (that would be "The Room Where It Happens"). "Want You Gone" still very clearly has GLaDOS' trademark condescension, snark, and vitriol towards Chell, but it's also mixed with her complicated need for her to be around that adds a lot of emotional nuance to her insulting goodbye. Does she really want Chell gone because she's a pain in the ass, or because she knows keeping her in Aperture will hurt her? Does she want Chell to stay to keep testing her, or because she's her only friend? Honestly, probably some of both columns. GLaDOS has very good villain songs.

"Magic Dance" just feels like an excuse to have David Bowie do David Bowie things while singing a David Bowie song alongside minions whose singing...really sucks. "Meant to Be Yours" is a really intense encapsulation of JD's character, swinging from slow, emotional expressions of love to fast-paced, aggressive vows of violence.

"Great at Crime" is just a fucking bop, IDK. It's very catchy and goofy (in an intentional way).

Both "The Mob Song" and "Biggering" are very good, honestly. Personal preference for me.

Have you heard that guitar in "E.G.G.M.A.N"?! That shit SLAPS. It makes the phrase "I am the Eggman" sound cool.

"Look Away" is...really just not a Villain Song. Doesn't focus on Olaf enough. "There Ain't Nothin But Bad Days Ahead" is not exactly what I'd call good, but it's more fitting for this tournament.

...fuck IDK, I voted for "Who Will Know" because it seemed underappreciated, but I get why "Nothing Left to Lose" is winning. That one is really good. Maybe I should have gone for that instead.

All of the IEYTD theme songs kick ass and "Cog in the Machine" is no exception. Those vocals are powerful and emotional and very good.

"Love Doesn't Stand A Chance" confuses me because it has Regina calling Snow White a "bitch," but also can't show her doing any villainy more intense than childish mayhem like ripping a grandma's knitting and pushing a dwarf over. The tone is very confused. Also, Jeremy Jordan sings the English version of "Hurricane" and I'm a sucker for him belting about justice.

"Les Poissons" is...fine. But "Hero" and the scene it accompanies are some of the few things I actually like about RWBY, which says a lot about how good that song is.

"Heffalumps and Woozles" is not about actual villains but mere products of Pooh's imagination, so I am disqualifying it in my books on the same grounds as "Look Away." Also, "The Hounds" is pretty damn good.

I really appreciate the sheer drama of Raphael singing his own damn boss theme, and I honestly could not give a shit about that rich white girl.

I always like a good Weird Al, and "Let The Pun Fit the Crime" is very good, but "The Pitiful Children" had already seared itself in my brain as one of my favorite villain songs.

I’m right there with in Great at Crime. Epithet Erased songs are just so good lyrically.

[monsooninn]

Berakhot 3b: 29. "The Violin."

A new Object is created in this section, that of the Tana Issachar, to Hire the Hired Man, which means to employ male prostitutes.

"The verb תנה (tana) means to hire. The connotation of this verb seems disproportionately often negative, and usually having to do with prostitution. But it should be noted that even though nowadays we recoil in horror at the thought of prostitution, back in Biblical times the prostitute was one of the few social archetypes.

In the same way that a king could be known as a father (of all his people), and the nation as the mother (hence motherland), and the citizens as the sons, so a certain specific society could be known as a prostitute.

Obviously, this could be a society with many sons but typically no husband, that means no central government. Instead, this sort of society sways every which way the gettings are gotten, with no social identity or formal legislation or even military protection."

This process is strongly identified with King David who turned Prince Jonathon into a prostitute and used him as an onramp to the Crown of the Kingdom of Israel and through his apparent choice of delicacies and affinity with the military prostituted to the whole damn thing for the sake of defeating the Philistines and providing the people of Israel who at that time had no home to call their own.

Moses led the people to freedom pulling them by their noserings, David did it by pulling on something else. He was a ruthless killer and paved the way to the promised land through puddles of his enemies' entrails and body parts, but this is what had to be done.

The differereces in metaphors between David and Moses notwithstanding, both men used the Torah to argue for the supremacy of the Temple, of personal and national jurisprudence, and as the the most famous musician and poet in history David's reign suggests for the importance of the arts to the longevity of Hebrew society.

Moses was never a king or a governor, he never owned property. David did everything Moses did plus a few extras but neither had a lasting legacy. Documentation of how this affected the Jewish people and their hopes for Mashiach is why the Talmud was written.

Verse 29 describes how this hope is to become an environment in which all mankind is spared the curses of its ancestors:

29. David, Simana Hova Leah, said Rabbi Acha bar Bizna, Rabbi Shimon Hasida said:

A violin was hanging above David's bed, and since he reached midnight.

One night, a north wind came and blew on him and played music from him, immediately he was standing and engaged in the Torah until the pillar of darkness rose.

Because the pillar of darkness went up, the wise men of Israel came to him. They said to him: Our Lord the King, your people Israel need sustenance.

He said to them: Go and make a living from it. They said to him: There is no handful that satisfies the lion, and no pit is filled with his dust. He said to them: Go and spread your hands in the regiment.

There is no way to satisfy the lion of violence, only the lion of justice. We must come to understand this. We have never ever tried to live without violence not for any prolonged period of time. We have decided to be laissez faire with it and now this very bad habit means all of us are now a party to or a victim of it.

Though we love our US Military soldiers, the forces of darkness led by many of our own people are trying to guarantee they are fight on too many fronts at once, and there will one day be enough strain their agenda needs will be met and many many people will die.

Anytime a vile person or regime starts a fight, like George W. Bush, or Donald Trump, or Bashar Assad or Vladimir Putin, you send every ship, gun, plane, pair of boots and spare pair of hands and you kill them and their army before an intractable war starts.

George Bush is the only leader in history to employ this tactic, during the Gulf War and he stopped a kind of pre-World War 3 right then in about two weeks. We have allowed Ukraine, Syria, Israel, etc. to suffer for years and years and now American and European soils are now engaged in Defense Conditions.

President Biden is an oaf and a coward. If I were president that creeping, loathsome, shambling, illiterate savage Mitch McConnell would have already had a bullet in his head after all the criminal acts he's performed while in office. Now the cunt is getting compliments from our most dire enemy during a time we are at war. What a fucker.

And what is the President going to say when it come time to do what should have been done a long time ago? "Sorry I was late in protecting 13% of the world's food source and the people that produce it, we had a little trouble printing arrest warrants for a bunch of pedophiles who have obtained state power illegally? Whoops!"

We cannot dawdle over this. We Americans must relieve Ukraine and force the Russians off their land the same way George Bush forced Saddam Hussein out of Kuwait. We have to cleanse the US Gov of corruption and get the work of caring for the people done with efficacy. The Black Pillar, midnight before the Right Time is upon us and we must go into the uknown as the Mishnah says with the Music and the North Wind, what is hidden by God, the future at our backs.

Since we've thought about it, trained for it but never done it, we need to be willing to be Issachar, weak, but weak together in the name of defining the nation in the cause of the light. We need to rapidly employ ourselves to this cause and the outcome- peace on earth at last -will be the wages.

It's not quite as glamorous sounding as hiring a bunch of male prostitutes, but the premise underlying both is the same: take the money, the job albeit unpleasant at times has to be done.

The Values in Gematria for the above verses follow:

a. "David- a sign you are required to follow, meaning business with the men in the field, the lubrication of the stork."

The Value in Gematria is 3066,גאֶפֶסו‎‎ו‎, gapesou, "gather in peace in order to negate what is false and emphasize what is true."

"The particle ου (ou) — spelled ουκ (ouk) when the next letter is a vowel — is one of two common particles of negation; the other one is μη (me) and both happen all over the New Testament.

The difference between the two is that ου (ou) describes an objective negation and μη (me) a subjective one. The difference there is that a subjective negation says no to one of multiple options while an objective one disregards those.

A subjective negation has to do with condition, supposition or even aspiration, and is often part of constructions like "may it not happen" or "if not/ would not". Our particle ου (ou), on the other hand, describes an absolute and blunt non-existence without further review of alternatives — NO! — the opposite is ναι (nai), meaning yes (MATTHEW 5:37).

On occasion, these two particles of negation occur side by side, as μη ου (me ou), an interrogative expression (ROMANS 10:18, 1 CORINTHIANS 9:4). But, in the eloquence of Spiros Zodhiates, "in this combination, me is interrogative and the ou belongs solely to the verb following" (Complete Wordstudy Dictionary).

Note that while our modern Boolean sense of negation dictates that two negatives create one positive (not-no means yes), in Greek a double negation emphasizes it (no-no means absolutely not)."

b. A violin was suspended...the Value in Gematria is 4027, דאֶפֶסב‎ז‎, dafesbez, "Understanding comes out of the mouth of the faithful like lightning."

Bezek [N] [H] [S] lightning. The residence of Adoni-bezek, in the lot of Judah ( Judges 1:5 ). It was in the mountains, not far from Jerusalem. Probably the modern Bezkah, 6 miles south-east of Lydda.

c. The Pillar of Darkness went up...the Value in Gematria is 7415 זדאה‎, zada, "understand the brilliance of the Commandments."

d. The Regiment= the Value in Gematria is 7843, זח‎דג‎, zadahg, "the brilliance of the understanding of the brotherhood of mercury."

Hg in Judaism represents the god Mercury who traveled from the high realms to the low to plead for the poor and bring them hope. I cannot help but believe this Gemara is indeed telling us what to do with about this World War 3, even though we are not precisely sure how. Only that nothing will go wrong if we try back away from it and try to help the suffering it has left behind. Surely we yet have the money, manpower and technology available for this.

[grippingbeskar]

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter nineteen - proper representation

frank castle x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of death, description of injury, canon typical violence

a/n: OKAY. i am so sorry with how long this has taken. finals are literally eating my ass and not in a good way. but it feels so good to write SOMETHING FINALLY. i forgot how much i <3 this series. thx for sticking with me pals xx. enjoy!!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Seven hours is a long time. Mostly, Frank thinks of you.

He can’t stop thinking about you— it’s been months since he’s had a thought that you haven’t been attached to in some way. Even when he thinks of the kid strapped in the back seat, it’s because he knows you. But, in seven hours of open road and the persistent pain in his gut at the way you left, anyone’s brain would drift.

He has no idea why he did it. Why he took your brother, why he bothered. Why he thought he’d be any better than the random group home he’d get stuck into, or the foster family that would forget about him within the week and lock him in his room, trading one shit hole for another. He can’t help but think of Billy— the Billy he knew, not the one he pulled a trigger on. That Billy he hadn’t known, hadn’t cared about.

But the old Billy, his friend. The one who dragged him out of the mud more times than he could count, the one his wife used to set a place at the table for, just incase he needed some place to eat. That Billy, who’s group home cared so little they didn’t notice they’d hired a pedophile to foster little boys.

He couldn’t let them take the risk. Your brother had been through enough— the dark rings around his eyes, a faint green bruise on his cheek, Frank hated that he saw some similarity in his own face, knowing the force they’d have to of hit him with. Maybe that’s why he offered to take Sam back with him, look after him for God knows how long, because you needed him safe, and then you’d come home to him.

With all that, knowing he’d probably done the right thing, he couldn’t get rid of the sick feeling twisting up his throat every time he glanced into the rear view mirror. Sam was staring out the window, blinking hard in an attempt to keep his eyes open. He looked like you, but only because Frank had spent so much time staring at your face. You must look like your mother, because this kid had different eyes, a different face, similar only in subtle ways someone who really knew you would see.

Frank liked kids. He never had issues with David’s kids— probably got too involved with them, if he was honest. Then there was Amy, but she wasn’t much of a kid. More of a teenager, but he never really figured out he actual age with all the damn fake ID’s she had. Either way, she’d been like a kid to him. He had a soft spot for them, it was always where he had give. So why does this make him sweat? Is it because the rest of those kids all had families of their own? Had ways of getting on without him, not actually his responsibility? None of them looked to him for shelter, for food, for the normal shit only parents gave their kids. No one looked at him like that anymore, until Sam had wandered up to him and asked if he could pull over at a Burger King on the way out.

It was the simplest thing, but he’d just come up and asked him and the whole thing felt like a punch in the face. He couldn’t be that anymore. He didn’t have it in him. He couldn’t take care of something. He couldn’t help. Maybe he should of just let them take the chance and—

“Burger King.” Sam mumbles into his palm, other hand pointing to the side of the road where the faint red and yellow lights lit up the burger place. Frank says nothing, hasn’t for about 4 hours now, just indicates off the road and pulls into the first parking spot.

It’s getting dark now, but the twenty four hour sign is faintly flashing over head. Sam’s already halfway out the car when Frank finishes running over all the risks of pulling the car over here and now, but the kids been through enough, and Frank doesn’t have the heart to say no. When he gets inside, Sam is standing at the door. Waiting for him.

“Go on.” Frank points at the counter, and Sam hesitates. He knows he must be starving, but he still just stands at the door, looking between the counter and Frank.

“I don’t know what to do.” He says in the smallest voice, and the way he looks at him, to him— “I’ve never been inside one before.”

“T’s alright. Go sit down, I’ll get you something. What do you like?” Frank bends a little so the kid could hear him. He wasn’t short, but Frank didn’t want to talk loud and embarrass him. He doesn’t really know why he cares.

“Lots of pickles. And mustard.” He smiles, and then goes and sits down in one of the booths. The fact Frank got through the interaction without fucking it up spurs him on a little, and he orders a burger with as many pickles as they can stack on it.

When he brings it over to him, Sam is staring out at the sky, head bouncing back and forth like he’s watching a tennis match, following the cars passing by. Then he must smell the food, because he all but jumps the table, grabbing the burger Frank slid over and taking the biggest bite out of it he can fit in his mouth.

“Slow down. You’ll choke.” Frank says, and something in his stomach twists at the words. So familiar— he remembers it was you he said them to at that diner he always went to back in the day.

“Sorry.” Sam muffled through the chips he’s shoving down his throat now, and Frank can’t help but laugh a little at the sight. As much as it pulls at him that this kid is probably eating so fast cause he’s not used to being fed regularly, he’s just glad he’s out. It comes at a cost, though, and thinking about you, Frank isn’t sure there’s any price he’d be willing to pay not to have you here.

They eat in silence, mainly because Sam doesn’t take a breath in between gulps of a giant soda and heaps of burger and fries, but really it’s because Frank can’t look at him. Doesn’t know what to say to him. It doesn’t seem to bother Sam though, who, like you, even with all the shit he must have seen and been through, is as resilient as ever.

“So, what’s the plan?” He asks after a giant mouthful of soda.

“What?” Frank croaks, voice strained from silence.

“The plan? To get Bobby?” Frank scoffs at this, but then realises the kid is serious.

“The plan is to keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s bullshit.” Sam crosses his legs and faces Frank fully. “You have to help me go back. And to get her.”

“I’m handlin’ it, alright? Eat your burger.” Sam’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks younger when he does it; tilting his head and scowling.

“I know you want to. I saw you…” Frank sighs, thinking about going back up and getting the kid another burger so he shuts up. “I saw you kiss her.”

“Jesus Christ.” Frank shakes his head and looks out the window again.

“You did.” He says it with his face screwed up, a little bit of childish disgust, but mostly determination. “You’re going back for her. I want to help.”

“You let me worry about that.” Sam copies him, shaking his head and looking out the window. If it wasn’t such bad lighting in here, Frank might have sworn he saw a tear in the kids eye, but it was swiped away too fast. The guilt eats at him a little. “Look, the reason she did all this shi— stuff, in the first place, is to get you out and make sure you were safe. The last thing I’m doing is dragging you back there. I’ll handle it.”

“I just want to help her like she helped me.” His voice was small again, and Frank swallows the feeling of guilt that bubbles up his throat. “She… she did a lot of bad things, didn’t she? To get me out?”

“Nothin’ they didn’t force her to.” Frank looks at the table, eyes finding anywhere else to concentrate on.

“Is she in trouble?” Clearing his throat, Frank thinks about how they shoved you in that car in handcuffs. He trusted Madani, but also knew her loyalty didn’t lie with him. “Cause of the things she did?”

“She’ll be fine.” He doesn’t say anything else. He just has to trust that what he’s done is enough. They both walk back out to the car in silence, and this time, Sam gets in the front seat. Shuffling around with whatever trash was on the floor, he bends down and picks something up, and Frank doesn’t see it right away until he puts them on.

Even though it’s pitch dark outside, Sam slides those stupid sunglasses you made him buy months ago onto his face, and drifts off to sleep in the same spot you had a million times over. Frank nearly splits the skin on his knuckles holding onto the steering wheel, pulling off the highway and heading toward you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I thought there’d be more questioning, less pacing.” You say to Agent Madani, and she looks at the door for the hundredth time, like she’s waiting for something. “Is something wrong here?”

“Beside the fact I have a known fugitive stowed away in one of the most secure facilities in the world? Nothing at all.” She was stressed. Pacing around the table, and looking at the door like she’s expecting someone to walk through it.

“You could just let me go.” She sighs. The last thing she should want right now is company, so what was she waiting for? She needed you to save her ass, be the missing link to why she had all this information. Why she showed up at Silo, how she knew about today, how she found the house you were at. All of it needed to be connected, and you were the missing link, and yet ever since she marched you through the back door of this building, she hadn’t asked you a single question.

“Never on time.” She sighs under her breath.

“What?” Madani stops pacing.

“We have to wait.” She says, leaning back.

“Wait for what?”

“Just…” She marches toward the door. “Stay here. I need to make another phone call. If anyone knocks—“

“Kill them?” You hear her sigh again before the door clicks shut. Looking around the room, the long table stretches before you. No other chairs on your side, but opposite you, there’s three.

A little part of you sparks to life, the part infused with Franks backward lessons of looking at every room you walked into like it would be the last one you saw. You could feel your face pulling with concentration, trying to take as much in as you could in the seemingly plain room. Frank never so much as flinched, didn’t even blink or think twice and still managed to be ten steps ahead of everyone in the room. But Frank wasn’t here, and you knew for a fact those chairs weren’t going to be for him.

Three chairs. Why would Madani set this room up with three chairs? You were on a wanted list, she couldn’t exactly plan a public meeting with you and anyone else, let alone sit across from you while the entire CIA sat outside waiting on orders to kill you. She’s waiting for someone. Two someone’s. Security?

The click of heels outside the door snap you to focus. Two sets of heels��� not security, unless the CIA is hiring. There’s another sound, one that you can’t exactly place. You close your eyes, trying to tap into whatever enhancement is running through your veins, but then the door swings open and locks again faster than you can put together, like the people who were now inside were shoved in.

Eyes wide open, it takes a second for your body to come out of defence mode. Madani is in front of you, and there’s two more people now, the first you know well, and the other familiar.

“Karen?” Your eyes squint, like you’re not sure what you are seeing is real. It’s been a long fucking day… why the hell would she be here of all places? “And… you. I met you.”

“Under worse circumstances.” The man says, his cane tapping around the room while Karen walks behind him, offering you a sympathetic smile. “Matthew Murdock.”

“Nice to meet you?” Your voice is a little higher pitched than normal, only because you were fucking confused. Frank had said something about this guy before… “I think I’m out of the loop here. I had the impression you were going to… arrest me.”

“I never wanted that.” Madani says.

“Well the handcuffs your officers put me in seemed to say otherwise.” She sits down on the left, Matthew in the middle and Karen on the right. “What is this supposed to be.”

“You have a lot of powerful friends.” He says, and you scoff. “Agent Madani called me a few weeks back. She thinks I can help you and your brother. If you’re willing to work with me.”

“And work with you would involve…” Your chest tightens, and he reacts as if he can see how you’ve frozen up, shaking his head.

“Not like that. I’m a lawyer. I want to clear your name.” There’s a moment of silence, and then you stifle out a laugh.

“A lawyer?” You look to Madani. “Could you not have told me that’s what we were doing here?”

“There’s about 400 people in this building that want you dead. The rest of them want to throw you and your brother in a hole for the rest of your life. If I had even suggested bringing you in for a fair trial, it would of set off yet another group of angry men vying to tear you apart. And anyone around you.” Sitting back in your chair, you let out a long breath. “Frank suggested it.”

“Really?” She nods in a way that suggests he hadn’t just asked, he’d forced her hand.

“You have a right to be represented. Even if they wanted to trial you for the death penalty—“ You swallow the tiny amount of fear that shoots up your throat “—which they won’t, they need to do it properly. Your brother hasn’t done anything wrong. They can’t touch him without going against basically every human rights law they protect. Even going after you, with the story you have…”

“Yeah. I get it.” You look up and blink a few times, and Matthew nods, leaning into Karen as a silent suggestion to take over.

“Matt can help you. I’ve seen him do it. He helped Frank… me, too.”

“You?”

“Once.” Your eyebrows raise, and you nod. Maybe impressed isn’t the right word for it, but you think you’ve miscalculated the kind of person she is, and it only makes you like her more. “You aren’t a bad person. If you can get in front of a jury, tell them about your brother… about your family.”

“You helped the CIA’s investigation, and we can use that to reduce whatever sentence they want to stick you with.” Matt continues, putting a bag on the desk.

“Unofficially.” Madani reminds him, and he smiles.

“Not anymore.”

“You can make sure they don’t touch my brother?” You lean over the table a little, and both Matt and Karen turn back to you.

“I know I can.” That is enough for you, so you’re surprised when he keeps talking. “He’ll be safe, but I think I can make it easier for you, too. You can have a life after all this. The one you should of had from the beginning.”

There was a time where you thought you knew exactly what your life would be. You thought you’d die doing something you hated, trying to kill someone for Bobby or whoever came after him. There wasn’t a life you pictured, and even when you’d dared to hope, the only one you could think of was spending the rest of it scared as shit someone would come after you or Sam. A life looking over your shoulder.

There was so many things that were different now, the past six months had changed everything. You’d seen your brother now, spoken to him. Now, you were being offered more— a life, maybe something more than a few short paranoid years. Your throat felt tight and you tried to look anywhere you couldn’t see your own reflection.

When he’d said you could have a life, you looked away from yourself instantly, because the first thing you’d thought of— as selfish as it was, was the life you could have with Frank. One full of nights like the few you had shared. Even paranoid and running, a life of that would be worth all this if it was with him.

Karen called your name, and slid over a piece of paper you made no sense of.

“I don’t… have any money.” Embarrassing as it is, you know people like this cost big, and you don’t think you’ve ever had more than $20 to your name.

“If I was in this job for the money, I’d be in the wrong business.” He smiles, handing you a pen. “Don’t worry about it. This is just a paper that says you’re willing to be represented by me.” You sign the paper, writing the letters of your name slowly and in print.

“Okay. Now what?” Sliding the paper back over to him, he turns to Madani.

“You were expecting questions?” She says, and pulls out a laptop along with about twelve case files that all have the word UNSOLVED printed in red ink. “You can start here.”

She hands you one file, and when you open it, the date reads about seven years from today. If you thought today was a long day, it was about to get a whole lot longer. She starts asking questions about where you were, what you did that day, and you answer as best you can, but all you can really think about is is that little ember of hope resting deep in your stomach, and how it slowly catches fire with each passing minute.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Don’t answer that.” Matt says from beside you now, and Madani sighs. “What?”

“Again? Seriously?” She says, and he keeps his head up, listening as his hands run along the braille of the files Karen has converted. They have been going at this for hours while Madani asked you every question under the sun. “I’m asking if she killed him. It’s a yes or no answer.”

“She was coerced, and by that timeline she would have been 16 years old. You’re going to charge a 16 year old who was being held captive and threatened with her only family members life with murder?” He never stops reading through the file, and once he hears Madani take yours front in front of you, he slides it away and grabs the next one.

“Let’s do something more recent then, shall we?” She slides another file to you, and you recognise it instantly. So does Karen. “Gus Daley. Murdered behind 3rd Street just three months ago. About the time you were working with the Colonel.”

“For him. Working for him. And lets not mix our words. The man’s name was Connor Flannery, and he was not a Colonel.” You can’t help but smile a little bit at how fast he was with this. You liked Madani, but you knew her loyalty couldn’t lie with you, so it was nice to have someone on your side out here.

“Fine. This was when Connor Flannery was forcing you to work for him?” When you hear no objections from Matt, you nod. 

“Yes.” The little camera she had set up blinks in recognition, and the only other sound is Karen shoving papers along the table. 

“What happened?” The last time you saw this man was in a service station, his lifeless corpse on the front page of a newspaper Frank was looking at. You remember you had expected him to look at you with disgust, and how he hadn’t even flinched.

“He wanted him dead, and gave me a date and a time. It was very structured with him. He planned the whole thing. Where to go, when, how he wanted it done.” Madani nods, listening intently. 

“How many jobs did he send you on?”

“Eight or nine, I think.”

“You think?”

“She clearly wasn’t in a right state of mind. She didn’t even know the man’s name before I told her. Flannery and Bobby Gnucci did everything except get their hands dirty.” Matt says.

“And when you found out that they were working together? What did you do then?” An image of The Colonels body in the woods is shoved in front of you— Karen’s article that bought you the precious seconds of time to get to your brother.

“I bolted as soon as I got the chance.” Okay, not entirely true. It took some convincing on Franks part to get you to leave, and when you found out you killed him. But you can’t imagine that’s going to look great for you right now, so you leave it at that.

“The article says what happened to him. I wrote it myself.” Karen says, and Madani turns her attention off you for the first time in hours.

“Thanks to a photo from an anonymous source, correct? I know it wasn’t anyone in this room that sent that photo, and I’m inclined to think Frank Castle had something to do with it.” At the mention of him, your chest tightens again. “You two were close. I can’t imagine you’d question him too much if he came to you and told you what happened. Even if you didn’t think it was true. Maybe even write an article— just because he asked. You’d do just about anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

It’s like you are interrupting something. Everyone here knows each other better than you do— you know a little about what they’ve all been through together, but if Agent Madani knows enough about Karen and Frank…

“I write the truth. Always.” Karen’s also a better liar than you pegged her for.

“How is any of this relevant, Agent?” Matt chimes in, and you don’t have to look back to hear the smirk in his voice. “You’ve got what you wanted now, right? She’s told you everything she knows— more than enough to convince a jury she was working with you well before she got her brother back. If this has to go to trial—“

“If?”

“I’m a reasonable man. We can make a deal, or we can drag this through court. I don’t know how well your new colleges will react to you working behind their back, though. I don’t want to risk you being invited to Friday night drinks, right?” Matt stands.

“What are you suggesting?” Madani says, and Matt smiles.

“I’ll let you know after I’ve discussed with my client. For now, I think there’s a kid who’d like to see his sister.” Karen opens the door, and when Matt walks through it you realise you’re still frozen in your seat.

“Go.” Agent Madani says, blowing out a frustrated breath. You stand, but instead of walking out the door you turn to face her.

“I want to say thank you.” Your voice is quiet— tired as hell. There’s still blood on your fingernails when you stick out your hand to shake hers. “For everything you did for my brother. And me. You didn’t have to do all of this, and I know how much you’re risking. I owe you.”

“No, you don’t.” She takes your hand, shaking it once. “I spent a long time doing the wrong thing for the wrong people. I like being the good guy for once.” For some reason that makes you smile. You— the good thing?

“Still. I owe you.” She reaches into her bag after you finish and hands you something.

“Now we’re even.” Before you can look at what she gave you, she’s walking out the door, brushing past Matt. “Don’t call me unless you have a good deal.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She scoffs and disappears into the now dark hallway, and it must be the middle of the night now because all the lights are off and the window of the room you’re in is pitch black. “You ready?”

Nodding, you follow them out, finally looking down at what Madani gave you.

A small black square— exactly like the burner phone Frank has, and when you turn it on, there’s only one number on it. You don’t even blink before you hit call.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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@urlocalgeek

@hello-lisa1026

@castlesnchurches

@superbreadsoul

@lemon-world1

@officalpetergriffin

@batcreep

@quackson03

@violetsandroses8

@turningtoclown

@yourfriendhenrywinter

@peaky-shelby

@hollandorks 

[archived-azarovsslayer]

What did each survivor do to get here?

“Dey each a’e he’e because of sins committed in life, even if dey demselves deny it.” If Philip had learned of the treachery of Evans father, Sally’s lost husband, and horrible truth of the little girls in the red forest before he had ever questioned his fellow hunters then it was true that the spirit world did not hold secrets from those that walked in it. The same was true for survivors as over time the spirit hunter saw as their literal shadow within the spirit world would flicker and reveal secrets of the past. “But if you wish to know specifics, I can elaborate.”

“De’e Leada lived a life of sloth, I saw him throw away talents in life in place of chasing wild dreams and failing dismally. I think it’s only now dat he realises da truth, as da pain of his self ineptitude follows him everywhere.”         

“Da runna is arrogant and brash, someone who would keep moving forward instead of stopping to learn from her past. De’e was a moment she could have captured a great destiny, but without thinking she left dat purpose to rot, dat act has stranded her in dis place.”

“Jake has always been reckless and selfish, he too was given an opportunity fo’ greatness and drew it away fo’ his own want. He wanted to live a life fo’ himself away f’om humanity and now pays fo’ it wid his blood.”

“Da Botanist is vain, not in da stereotypical sense but in da way she will cling to othas fo’ her own gain. She wasn’t like this in life, but sometimes people a’e sent to dis place to be tested, and she is one dat fails are her own redemption.”  

“Karlsson is nihilistically chaotic she cares not of her own kin who she believes forsook her for deir own wants. Sometimes I have doubts as to why some of da victims a’e he’e but I have seen first hand of Nea’s sins when she burned down da asylum wid Sally and herself inside.”

“Laurie is someone who I in some sense understand. I know what it’s like to lose friends, and I know what it’s like to seek revenge. Da difference between us is I choose to stop, and she did not.”

“Visconti should be an easy case to understand, a gambla, greedy, and ill content wid what he had. It’s not surprising dat a man like him is he’e as dat luck he clings to doesn’t exist it’s only a divulging path of fate.”

“Bill is simila’ dough unlike Ace’s poison he indulged in da much deadlier sin of wrath. I saw visions of him in war delighting in slaughta, and when he went back to his home country he could neva settle wid peace.”

“Feng Min is anotha consumed by her ego. So consumed wid climbing to da top of her ‘game’ she left behind everyone dat cared about her, and widout dem she fell. She still believes she can become da greatest in dis place, when time itself works against her.”

“There might be some people who we’e always just doomed to exist he’e, I believe David is one of dose people. He has been violent towards eva’ything he takes part, a habit dat has been so natural to him I am unsure if he can even change his own nature.”

“The most interesting of late has been Quentin, sent he’e by his own fanaticism but damned by something much diffe’ent dan da othas. Da boy learned secrets of a world most humans neva see, but he broke his promise and did not keep dem to himself. Fo’ a long time he evaded his hunta, but all who fall onto da path to come to dis place will enta it eventually.”

The Wraith pauses for a moment, kneading his hands towards. “However fo’ as many dings as I have learned about da othas dat dwell in dese lands, I am still unsure if dese reasons a’e da full truth. Perhaps all da visions I see a’e false and it was a completely diffe’ent hand of fate dat lead us all he’e. I do know dis howeva, da Gods have a great purpose fo’ humanity dat all of us need to take part in.” His voice suddenly turns cold and his gaze wanders off towards the distance. “As unfair as it seems, I know all dose dat exist in dis reality have failed da God’s plan in some way. Da difference is if we can still find oua purpose in da end.”

[aion-rsa]

Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor

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As recently as September 2020 David Tennant topped a Radio Times poll of favourite Doctors. He beat Tom Baker in a 2006 Doctor Who Magazine poll, and was voted the best TV character of the 21st Century by the readers of Digital Spy. He was the Doctor during one of Doctor Who‘s critical and commercial peaks, bringing in consistently high ratings and a Christmas day audience of 13.31 million for ‘Voyage of the Damned’, and 12.27 million for his final episode, ‘The End of Time – Part Two’. He is the only other Doctor who challenges Tom Baker in terms of associated iconography, even being part of the Christmas idents on BBC One as his final episodes were broadcast. Put simply, the Tenth Doctor is ‘My Doctor’ for a huge swathe of people and David Tennant in a brown coat will be the image they think of when Doctor Who is mentioned.

In articles to accompany these fan polls, Tennant’s Doctor is described as ‘amiable’ in contrast to his predecessor Christopher Eccleston’s dark take on the character. Ten is ‘down-to-earth’, ‘romantic’, ‘sweeter’, ‘more light-hearted’ and the Doctor you’d most want to invite you on board the TARDIS. That’s interesting in some respects, because the Tenth Doctor is very much a Jekyll and Hyde character. He’s handsome, he’s charismatic, and travelling with him can be addictively fun, but he is also casually cruel, harshly dismissive, and lacking in self-awareness. His ego wants feeding, and once fed, can have destructive results.

That tension in the character isn’t due to bad writing or acting. Quite the contrary. Most Doctors have an element of unpleasantness to their behaviour. Ever since the First Doctor kidnapped Ian and Barbara, the character has been moving away from the entitled snob we met him as, but can never escape it completely.

Six and Twelve were both written to be especially abrasive, then soften as time went on (with Colin Baker having to do this through Big Finish audio plays rather than on telly). A significant difference between Twelve and Ten, though, is that Twelve questions himself more. Ten, to the very end, seems to believe his own hype.

The Tenth Doctor’s duality is apparent from his first full appearance in 2005’s ‘The Christmas Invasion’. Having quoted The Lion King and fearlessly ambled through the Sycorax ship in a dressing gown, he seems the picture of bonhomie, that lighter and amiable character shining through. Then he kills their leader. True, it was in self-defence, but it was lethal force that may not have been necessary. Then he immediately topples the British Prime Minister for a not dissimilar act of aggression. Immediately we see the Tenth Doctor’s potential for violence and moral grey areas. He’s still the same man who considered braining someone with a rock in ‘An Unearthly Child’. 

Teamed with Rose Tyler, a companion of similar status to Tennant’s Doctor, they blazed their way through time and space with a level of confidence that bordered on entitlement, and a love that manifested itself negatively on the people surrounding them. The most obvious example in Series 2 is ‘Tooth and Claw’, where Russell T. Davies has them react to horror and carnage in the manner of excited tourists who’ve just seen a celebrity. This aloof detachment results in Queen Victoria establishing the Torchwood institute that will eventually split them apart. We see their blinkers on again in ‘Rise of the Cybermen’, when they take Mickey for granted. Rose and the Doctor skip along the dividing line between romance and hubris.

Then, in a Christmassy romp where the Doctor is grieving the loss of Rose, he commits genocide and Donna Noble sucker punches him with ‘I think you need somebody to stop you’. Well-meaning as this statement is, the Doctor treats it as a reason to reduce his next companion to a function rather than a person. Martha Jones is there to stop the Doctor, as far as he’s concerned. She’s a rebound companion. Martha is in love with him, and though he respects her, she’s also something of a prop.

This is the series in which the Doctor becomes human in order to escape the Family of Blood (adapted from a book in which he becomes human in order to understand his companion’s grief, not realising anyone is after him), and is culpable for all the death that follows in his wake. Martha puts up with a position as a servant and with regular racist abuse on her travels with this man, before finally realising at the end of the series that she needs to get out of the relationship. For a rebound companion, Martha withstands a hell of a lot, mostly caused by the Doctor’s failings. 

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Series 4 develops the Doctor further, putting the Tenth’s Doctor’s flaws in the foreground more clearly. Donna is now travelling with him, and simply calls him out on his behaviour more than Rose or Martha did. Nonetheless the Doctor ploughs on, and in ‘Midnight’ we see him reduced to desperate and ugly pleas about how clever he is when he’s put in a situation he can’t talk himself out of.

Rose has also become more Doctor-like while trapped in another reality, and brutally tells Donna that she’s going to have to die in order to return to the original timeline (just as the Doctor tells Donna she’s going to have to lose her memories of travelling with him in order to live her previous life, even as she clearly asks him not to – and how long did the Doctor know he would have to do this for? It’s not like he’s surprised when Donna starts glitching). Tied into this is the Doctor’s belief in his own legend. In ‘The Doctor’s Daughter’ he holds a gun to Cobb’s head, then withdraws it and asks that they start a society based on the morals of his actions. You know, like a well-adjusted person does.

What’s interesting here is that despite presenting himself as ‘a man who never would’, the Doctor is a man who absolutely would. We’ve seen him do it. Even the Tenth Doctor, so keen to live up to the absolute moral ideals he espouses, killed the Sycorax leader and the Krillitanes, drove the Cybermen to die of despair, brought the Family of Blood to a quiet village and then disposed of them personally. But Tennant doesn’t play this as a useful lie, he plays it as something the Doctor absolutely believes in that moment, that he is a man who would not kill even as his daughter lies dead. It’s why his picking up a gun in ‘The End of Time’ has such impact. And it makes some sense that the Tenth Doctor would reject violence following a predecessor who regenerated after refusing to commit another double-genocide.

In the series finale ‘Journey’s End‘, Davros accuses the Doctor of turning his friends into weapons. This is because the Doctor’s friends have used weapons against the Daleks who – and I can’t stress this enough – are about to kill everyone in the entire universe. Fighting back against them seems pretty rational. Also – and again I can’t stress this enough – the Daleks are bad. Like, really bad. You won’t believe just how mindbogglingly bad they are. The Doctor has tried to destroy them several times by this point. Here, there isn’t the complication of double-genocide, and instead the very real threat of absolutely everyone in the universe dying. This accusation, that the Doctor turns people into weapons, should absolutely not land.

And yet, with the Tenth Doctor, it does. This is a huge distinction between him and the First Doctor, who had to persuade pacifists to fight for him in ‘The Daleks’.

In ‘The Sontaran Strategem’ Martha compares the Doctor to fire. It’s so blunt it almost seems not worth saying, but it’s the perfect analogy (especially for a show where fire is a huge part of the very first story). Yes, fire shines in dark places, yes it can be a beacon, but despite it being very much fire’s entire deal, people can forget that it burns. And fire has that mythical connection of being stolen from the gods and brought to humanity. The Time Lord Victorious concept fits the Tenth Doctor so well. Of all the Doctors, he’s the most ready to believe in himself as a semi-mythic figure.

Even when regenerating there’s a balance between hero and legend: the Tenth Doctor does ultimately save Wilfred Mott, but only after pointing out passionately how big a sacrifice he’s making. And then he goes to get his reward by meeting all his friends, only to glare at them from a distance. His last words are ‘I don’t want to go’, which works well as clearly being a poignant moment for the actor as well, but in the context of Doctor Who as a whole it renders Ten anomalous: no one else went this unwillingly. And yet, in interviews Russell T. Davies said it was important to end the story with ‘the Doctor as people have loved him: funny, the bright spark, the hero, the enthusiast’.

It’s fascinating then, that this is the Doctor who has been taken to heart by so many viewers because there’s such an extreme contrast between his good-natured front, his stated beliefs, and his actions. He clearly loves Rose and Donna, but leaves them with a compromised version of happiness. They go on extraordinary journeys only to end up somewhere that leaves them less than who they want to be, with Russell T. Davies being more brutally honest than Steven Moffat, who nearly always goes the romance route. Davies once said to Mark Lawson that he liked writing happy endings ‘because in the real world they don’t exist’, but his endings tend towards the bittersweet: Mickey and Martha end up together but this feels like they’re leftovers from the Doctor and Rose’s relationship. The Tenth Doctor doesn’t, as Nine does, go with a smile, but holding back tears.

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It’s a testament to how well written the Tenth Doctor is that the character has this light and shade, and with David Tennant’s immense likeability he can appeal to a wider audience as a result. It’s not surprise he wins all these polls, but I can’t help but feel that if the Doctor arrived and invited me on board the TARDIS, I’d want it to be anyone but Ten.

The post Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[fandom-go-round]

Can I you write something for David, Dwight, Trapper, and Ghostface? Where they open a locker to find the reader masturbating, then helping them finish off. Female or gender neutral reader please!

Warnings: Voyeurism, Outdoor Sex, Implied Canon Typical Violence, Getting Caught Masturbating, Masturbation, Awkward Sexual Situations

David King:

David had yanked the locker open to hide from the Huntress and hadn’t been expecting to see you there. Neither of you have any time to say anything before David is shoving his way in and closing the door behind him.

There are a few tense seconds as Anna rounds the corner, both of you holding your breath and hoping that she doesn’t find you. David can smell your arousal in the locker, trying his hardest to ignore the fact that your hand is still shoved down your pants.

Once she leaves and he’s able to step out he does, neither of you knowing what to say. You refuse to look at him, face staring determinedly at the gray metal. David is already half hard and decides ‘fuck is’; he’s found other survivors doing way worse than this.

“Come on, I’ll help you out.” Clearly that wasn’t what you were expecting by the way your eyes go wide. He chuckles, holding out a hand and jerking his head towards the woods. “Let’s just not do it here, yeah?”

 Dwight Fairfield:

Dwight had opened the locker because it sounded like someone was hurt. He kept hearing whimpers and small cries of pain and figured that he should offer some help. He’s shocked to see you with your pants halfway down your thighs, biting the back of one hand to keep quiet.

He makes a sound like a wounded animal and your eyes snap open, going wide when they see him there. Your hand freezes and Dwight doesn’t know where to look, your face or your crotch. There’s a moment of tense silence where neither of you move, a generator going off in the distance.

Eventually you make a decision, hand beginning to move again. Dwight feels like his face is on fire but he can’t move away from the open locker. You raise an eyebrow at him, the unspoken ‘well?’ sitting in the air.

He’s more shocked than you when he falls to his knees, tugging you until you’re halfway out of the locker. You have to muffle your voice even more as Dwight begins to lick and nip at your skin; he’s always willing to help a friend out.

 Trapper:

He had opened the locker looking for that damned Feng Min, hoping to keep her off gens permanently when he finds you with your hand down your pants. You yelp and try to barrel past him but he just shoves you back into the locker and looks at you. Your head had hit the wall and you’re dazed, giving the killer enough time to get a good look at you.

Evan had been wondering where you had gone, chasing you off a generator early on and then not seeing you again for a while. Apparently that had gotten you going, because now you were getting off in a locker like a horny teenager.

His laugh has you refocusing on him, watching as he moved to block out all light coming into the locker. You were hoping that he would just take you out quickly so there weren’t any questions but Trapper looked like he was going to humiliate you on top of this. Wonderful.

You don’t know what to do when he wraps a hand around your throat and then tugs your pants the rest of the way off. He holds his hand against you for a moment, feeling how much of a mess you are before starting to stroke against your skin. Your cries are cut off by the hand around your throat but you can’t bring yourself to care; if he’s going to get you off, you aren’t going to complain.

 Ghostface:

Danny had been wondering where you were for the second half of the trail. Your team is doing really well and it’s starting to piss him off but he hasn’t seen you for a while now. He’s walking through the killer shack when he hears something in the basement, creeping down the stairs and hoping to catch someone going through a chest.

He finds something better; you’re stuffed into one of the lockers in the corner, door mostly closed but not all the way. He has no idea what you could be doing in there until he hears you moan. Danny’s face is split into a wide grin, grabbing his camera from under his robe.

You only realize he’s there when the camera flash goes off, blinding you for a moment before he’s yanking you out of the locker. You stumble onto the floor and he’s quick to pin you down, another flash going off.

“If you wanted some help sweetheart, all you had to do is ask.” He’s more excited than he’s been in a long time, pushing two fingers into you without hesitation. Your cries echo off the walls down here even more than normal and Danny relishes in them. The red glow looks so nice on your skin. Who knows, maybe he’ll let you live if you cum hard enough.

[its-monster-mash]

Wild Thing: Part 2

Paul (The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine

Content Warnings: She/her pronouns, Canon Typical violence/weed/Alcohol/Lite Vampiric Manipulation/Blood

Part 1

This is really long so it’s going under a Readmore

• It’s a miracle all of you made it in one piece; the boys had played a nasty trick on Michael; and he damn near went over the edge of Hudson’s Bluff. Normally it took a lot to rattle you, but in that split second before Michael was actually able to stop, you practically felt your heart stop. It wasn’t every day you watched your best friend nearly fall to his death. You can feel Paul’s abdomen tighten beneath your arms as he laughs. It’s a cruel sound, and you’re not sure if it’s at Mike’s expense or yours. David nods toward him, and he turns to look back at you, grinning like the fox in the henhouse. “Oh come on babe, lighten up.”

• As soon as he catches his breath, Michael lunges at David, understably furious. You’re pissed as hell yourself, but when you try to climb off of Paul’s bike to give them all a piece of your mind, he grabs your thigh, keeping you in place. You open your mouth to tell him off, but he interrupts you. “Shhh girlie, just look, s’all cool.”

• You’re about to argue with him when instead of knocking David’s lights out or storming off, you notice Michael talking to him, Star looking entirely uncomfortable between them. “How far are you willing to go, Michael?” Your jaw practically drops in surprise when you see Mike nod, getting back on his bike. It worries you, this is so unlike him.

• Paul smiles down at you, no trace of his cruelty from earlier. He jostles your leg playfully. “See? It was just a little joke, everything’s cool.” You can’t help but lose yourself a little in his beautiful blue eyes, there is just something about him that makes you want to relax. “Cool,” you repeat back to him, sliding your arms around his midsection again. “Atta girl.”

• The rest of the ride is pretty uneventful, and you come to a stop at the mouth of a cave, with no shortage of signs warning of the dangers within. “Oh please tell me we’re going in there,” you say with a grin; this is absolutely up your alley, and Michael shakes his head at you with an exasperated smile. How many ill-thought-out adventures had you dragged Mike on growing up together? You can’t help but recall the time you found that creepy old military bunker and accidentally locked yourselves in...the two of you ended up finding an alternative exit that opened up into the library basement of all places...

• Paul helps you off the bike, tugging you against his chest so he can whisper in your ear. “It’s your lucky night babe.” You can’t help but grin like an idiot as your heart races. He presses a teasing kiss to the side of your head and you feel yourself begin to melt.

• “We’re not seriously going down there, are we?” Mike pipes up, catching your attention much to Paul’s annoyance. “Mike wants to know if we’re seriously going down there,” Marko repeats, circling the cavern. “I dunno Marko, are we seriously going down there?” Dwayne asks, joining him. “We understand if you can’t hang, Michael,” David mocks with a false tone of sincerity. Paul wraps his arm around you, pulling you tight against him. “Yeah Michael, you don’t need to worry about (Y/N), I’ll keep her nice and safe.” “Stop it!” Star scolds him, taking Mike’s arm. “Don’t listen to them Michael, you can still back out if you want.” David stalks toward the edge of the cavern, his expression foreboding and mischievous. “It’s time to make a decision, Michael.”

• “Well, Either way I’m going in,” you say, getting a little impatient. You were never one to wait around while everyone else danced around a decision. “I’ll help you down,” Paul chimes in a bit too eagerly. He slides his arm around your waist, holding you tightly hip to hip before he jumps down into the cave.

• You gasp, very much expecting to break an ankle or something with the way Paul just leaped down in, but are surprised when your feet touch the ground almost feather light. “How did you DO that?” You whisper in astonishment. “Baby, I am all kinds of magic.” “What are you, the fucking Goblin King?”

• He laughs, watching you squint in the pitch darkness of the cave. “Hey I’ll take that as a compliment, Bowie’s hot as fuck.” “So are you,” you say, trying to reach for where his voice came from, but he leans away from you with a smirk, watching you stumble. “You know what the difference between me and Jareth is though?” You turn around to face him, gasping when he presses you into the cold cave wall. “I’m gonna get the girl.”

• You wrap your arms around his shoulders in excitement. It’s too dark for you to see him, but you part your lips and let your eyes fall shut, expecting a kiss. He doesn’t kiss you just yet though, holding back a moment to drink in the sight of you, beautiful and ready to give yourself to him. His lips only barely touch yours before you’re startled by the sound of several more pairs of feet hitting the ground. He groans with disappointment. “Guess we’ll have to put a pin in this,” he whispers, grazing his teeth ever so delicately against your ear. You shudder.

• Your eyes sting a bit as the cave is suddenly illuminated as Dwayne circles the room, lighting improvised trash bin braziers as he goes. Your jaw drops as you admire the sheer aesthetic of the place. Paul smiles with pride at your positive reaction.

• “What is this place?” Mike asks, climbing down from the ladder you probably should have used. David claps a hand on his shoulder, before moving to circle the cavern. “It was a Hotel once,” David says, gesturing to the now faded and ruined wallpaper. “The Jewel of Santa Carla, really.” He sounds wistful and nostalgic, almost as if he had seen the hotel in its heyday. He goes on to talk about the events leading up to its destruction, but you can hardly pay attention with the way Paul’s fingers trace little patterns against your exposed skin.

• You notice Star staring at you, almost like she’s worried...about what? Michael looks down at her, brow creasing as he follows her concerned gaze to see you standing all cozy with Paul. His eyes widen and he looks away, swallowing awkwardly. David seems to notice, and he looks straight at the pair of you. “Paul, it’s your turn to pickup dinner.” “But-” He protests, squeezing your arms just a little too tightly to be comfortable, but is cut off by the look of finality on David’s face. He sighs in deep frustration, releasing you for just a second before he startles you with a deep and forceful kiss. You barely have a chance to actually enjoy the kiss before he’s pulling away, looking at you with just the sweetest smile that makes you melt. “Wait up for me, okay?” You nod in agreement, blushing furiously. You hardly notice him side eyeing Mike as he turns to leave. “I’ll be back soon.” Just as he sets foot on the ladder, he suddenly turns around, jogging back to place another quick peck to your lips. “Okay, I can go now.”

• “Why don’t you go with him, Star,” David says, causing both Mike and Star to stare at him. “Or else we’ll end up with nothing but fortune cookies and chinese doughnuts.” Star looks at Michael apologetically, staring David down while she moves to exit the cave.

• You look over at Mike, smiling sheepishly and scratching the back of your neck. “Friendly guy,” he teases you, trying to cut through the awkwardness. David laughs, moving to clap a hand on Mike’s shoulder and yours. “What are the odds, huh? The two of you ending up lured into our little family.” Mike cracks a grin. “(Y/N) never could pass up an adventure.” David’s own face splits into a wide grin. “And what about you, Michael? What made you decide to follow us after all the crap we gave you?” “I go where she goes,” Mike says, crossing his arms defensively. “Really? Kinda looks like she’d be entertained plenty without you,” David nods toward you. “Paul’s taken quite a liking to her...that bother you?” “No,” Mike says a bit too forcefully; he never was very good at lying. “Hey, back off.” The words come out of your mouth before you even think about it. David looks at you with stunned amusement. “Yeah, back off David,” Marko mocks you. Dwayne shoves him a little.

• You take a deep breath; Mike tended to close himself off, but you were never very good at holding your tongue when you got upset...still, you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries in the boys’ own territory. “Look, Mike and I were together for a lot of years. Of course it’s weird to see each other with new people-” “You don’t seem too bothered to see him with Star,” Dwayne says from his seat on the old moth eaten couch. David grins, looking between you and Mike. He claps his hands together. “I think maybe these two could use a minute to talk things out, what do you boys think?” Dwayne nods in agreement, and Marko makes kissy noises; Dwayne gives him a light smack to the chest, before the three of them go chill in the other side of the cave to give you and Michael a little space.

• You and Mike stare at each other awkwardly; you gesture to the floor by the fountain. “You wanna sit?” “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice a little hoarse as the two of you take a seat leaning against the fountain. You sit quietly for a bit, awkwardly picking at your fingernails, before Mike breaks the silence. “I’m not upset that you’re moving on.” You turn to face him, and he continues. “I’m trying to move on too...it’s just-” “What?” “Him? (Y/N)? How did you even meet these guys?” You scoff, a little offended by the contempt in his voice when he mentioned Paul, it’s the same way his dad’s family talked about you when Mike first started bringing you around as kids. “He saved me. I was being harassed by a group of guys off the boardwalk, and Paul scared them off.” His gaze turns to his feet, partly ashamed at pre-judging Paul, and oddly ashamed of himself. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” You scoff humorously, patting him on the back. “Mike, it’s not your job to protect me, I can look after myself.” “What would have happened if Paul hadn’t shown up?” You laugh, flashing him the knife tucked discreetly into your boot. “Like I said, Mike, I can look after myself.” He lets out a deep sigh, smiling at you sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

• You give him a friendly smack to the shoulder, lightening the mood a bit. “And what about you, Mr. Badboy, with your leather jacket and fancy earring,” you tease. “What happened to the goodie-two-shoes I grew up with?” It’s Mike’s turn to scoff, he grins at you. “Wow, it’s almost like having my first love leave me for being too much of a Goodie-Two-Shoes right before my parents get divorced fucked me up a little, huh?” “Mike...I-” He laughs, giving your arm a playful shrug. “Hey, no, in all seriousness you were right. I never really pushed the envelope growing up unless I was following you. I just thought with the move that maybe it’s time for me to reinvent myself, you know? Explore what I want for a change.” He’s smiling, and you smile back at him. “She’s beautiful,” you say. “I think she likes you too.” A blush creeps up on his face, and he can’t keep himself from smiling. “Well I’m not sure if Paul likes you,” he teases, trying to draw the attention away from himself. “He might just kiss everyone like that, we don’t know.” You can’t help but laugh, shoving Mike. He decides to be dramatic, falling over onto the floor like you actually pushed him. He sits up on his elbows, smiling at you like he used to when you were kids. You return the favor.

• Unbeknownst to you, Paul stands in the entrance of the cave, his chest tightening as he watches you laugh and smile with Mike. He walks over to you quietly, so he can startle you when he drops to the ground to sit next to you. “Easy there, Mikey. You had your chance,” he says with thinly veiled contempt as he throws his arm around you. He hands you a carton of takeout. “You seem like a beef and broccoli kind of girl, hope that’s alright.” You smile up at him, cradling the hot container carefully in your hands. “It’s my favorite, thank you so much.” He smiles back, very pleased with himself.

• Star calls Mike over, handing him a carton of plain rice. She apologizes, saying she wasn’t sure what he’d like. She doesn’t quite believe him when he insists that it’s fine. “He means it Star, he hates chinese food, the rice is all he’ll eat,” you clarify. David perks up, stirring a carton of noodles. “You hate Chinese food? Jesus Michael, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong?” “Guess not everyone likes flavor,” Paul taunts, skewering his General Tso’s with his chopsticks. “‘Least I know how to use chopsticks,” Michael spits back, earning dramatic ooos from the boys. “He’s always been shit at it, doesn’t have the patience,” Dwayne says. “Not me,” Marko pipes up. “I can catch a fly midair.”

• “Oh fuck off, (Y/N) doesn’t care if I can use chopsticks or not, do you babe?” He asks, leaning in for a kiss. You take advantage of his momentary distraction to snatch a bite of his chicken...with your chopsticks. He gasps in mock offense at your sneakiness, and you quickly press your lips against his to make up for it. “Nope, I think it’s cute.” He’s smiling ear to ear, his big blue eyes locked on you, and your smile.

• David makes an exaggerated gagging noise, staring at the two of you and thoroughly ruining the moment. “Mind wrapping it up? Some of us are trying to eat here...Speaking of which, how are your maggots, Michael?” “Excuse me?” “Maggots, Mike, you’re eating Maggots.” Mike rolls his eyes, humoring David and looking into the cartoon. His eyes go wide and he instantly drops the carton, spilling rice all over the ground as he gags. The boys all laugh, and you look at Mike with concern. “What the hell Mike? It’s just rice.” He looks at you like you’re crazy, pointing frantically to the carton. “(Y/N) are you crazy? Look, it’s-” He looks down to see nothing but rice...certainly no maggots. “It’s...rice.” He looks up at David. “What the fuck did you do to me?” Paul laughs, pulling a positively ancient altoids tin from his jacket. “Take it easy, Mikey, you need to calm down,” he says, popping open the tin to reveal a collection of hand rolled joints.

• Your eyes light up, it’s been a while since you’ve smoked, and it’s always good with Chinese food. You look at Mike, being consoled by Star. “Could be the stress, Mike. When was the last time you even slept well since...” You don’t mention his parents’ divorce in front of the guys. That’s Mike’s business, not yours. He nods, catching your meaning. “...Yeah, yeah I’m in.” Marko jumps down from his perch, smacking Mike on the back. “Atta boy, Mikey!”

• Paul tosses Marko a joint, pulling out another and slipping it between your lips. “This one’s just for us.” He lights the joint, and you inhale deeply. “Romantic,” you say, blowing smoke at him. “I try,” he says, leaning in for a kiss as he takes the joint from your fingers. He pulls away just far enough so he can press the tip of his nose against yours. He takes a long drag, holding the smoke in as he leans in for another kiss. You inhale the smoke from his lungs, trying hard not to cough and ruin the kiss; this was the first time you were on this end of the shotgun. Your chest begins to heave, and he pulls away with a grin so you can cough in peace. “Wow, you take my breath away,” you squeak out between heaving coughs. He laughs, not a mean sound this time, but with genuine delight. “Damn babe, I think I might end up falling for you,” he jokes, hand on his heart.

• You planned on sassing him back, but you find yourself lost in his big beautiful eyes. You swallow, hard. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the excitement of the night, but you can’t help but think that sounds...kind of nice. You glance around the cave, at the guys, and back at Paul. Would it be so bad to stay here forever? You’re broken out of your trance by a musical tinging sound, you and Paul both look up to see David clinking an old spoon against the gaudiest decorated wine bottle you’ve ever seen. Oddly; Paul tenses beside you, his hand on your knee almost trembling.

• David turns to Mike with the wickedest look on his face. “Join us, Michael.” Star grabs onto Mike, looking even more tense than Paul does now. “You don’t have to do it, Michael. It’s not too late to back out,” she urges. “What is it?” “Blood,” she says. You laugh at the obsurdity, and Mike shakes his head at her, knocking back the bottle and drinking deeply. The boys cheer, and David turns the bottle to you. “(Y/N)...drink, and be with us forever.”

• Before you can reach for it, Paul holds his hand out to David. Unfortunately, it slips out of his hand, the bottle shattering at your feet, spilling wine over your shoes. David shoots him the nastiest look, and Paul puts his hands up in apology. “Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry; I’ll clean that up,” he says, dropping to his knees. You drop down beside him, and his eyes go wider than you’d ever seen them. “(Y/N)-” “I can help.” “No, You don’t need-” Suddenly he winces, and you instinctively grab his hand. “Fuck,” he grunts, watching the blood well up in his palm. He puts his hand to his mouth, trying to cover the bleeding. “Shit, Paul, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” “Maybe you should kiss it better,” Marko taunts. “I’m fine, (Y/N), really.” He gazes at you soothingly with those eyes of his, trying not to wince as you blot at his bleeding hand with your shirt. “You’re bleeding like crazy-” you start to argue, before noticing that his hand is hardly bleeding anymore. How could that be? He flexes his hand gingerly. “See, I told you I’m fine,” he smiles at you, his eyes sparkling. “Wouldn’t mind that kiss though.” You smile back at him, taking his hand to your lips. You taste the blood still wet against his hand, and strangely, it tastes almost sweet. You wonder if maybe it’s the weed smoke on your tongue, or maybe the chinese food, that’s making his blood taste so strange. You stare up at him sheepishly, thankful he can’t tell what you were thinking just now. He caresses your face softly in his hand, and you melt into the tenderness of his touch. “You’re so cute when you’re worried about me.” He presses his lips against yours, and you’re immediately hit by the sweet taste of his blood again. Part of you is horrified with yourself; you know you should pull away, but it’s just too good. You think you might die when he slips his tongue into your mouth. All too soon he pulls away, looking more than satisfied with himself, a breathless glee in his eyes. He strokes his thumb across your mouth, coming back bloody. “Looks like we made a mess.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “And it looks like you liked it.” Your body tenses, mortified at being caught, but he runs a comforting hand down your back. “Don’t worry babe, it’ll be our dirty little secret.”

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

WHO?

Prompt: “Can you do a mob!Roman Reigns x Pregnant Reader where they are in a meeting and someone disrespects her?” Requested by the lovely @purpledragon04 (I’m also tagging my girl @ziasaph ‘cuz she wants all Roman related stories...and I can relate babe! Hahaha)

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Pregnant Reader

Warnings: Mob themed related subjects(drugs/gun),cursing,explicit violence,mentions of murder,harassment.

Notes: I’ve always wanted to write something Mob!Roman related but I’ve never had any good ideas,until the amazing @purpledragon04 request this. I’ve had some free time today so I dedicated to write this.So there you have it, I hope you like it babe.🥰 Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and if you’re comfortable with it,please let me know what you think? Some feedback is always welcomed and appreciated ❤️You can check out my other stories typing ‘masochist writes’ on the search bar on my page and my newest story as a fixed post.Okay,now let’s get to the fun part,shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

I woke up as soon as the smell of fresh toast and scrambled eggs filled the bedroom, I opened my eyes and saw my beautiful man holding a tray fool of food,shirtless and barefooted with his hair down,only in a pair of black sweatpants that hanged dangerously low on his hips.

“Good morning baby girl” He softly smiles

“Good morning Ro”

He placed the tray of food on top of the bed on his empty side and approached me kneeling on one knee,placing one big hand on my round belly,pecking my lips,looking at my bump and asking in a soft voice

“And how are we feeling today?” While he rubbed and gave light pecks all around my belly.

“So far so good!” I answered as I ran my fingers through his thick,silky,dark hair.

“Good” he pecks my lips “ ‘cuz I’ve brought us some food”

He got up and walked to his side of our king size bed,placed the tray next to me so he could sit on the bed.

Ever since we’ve found out I was pregnant Roman did this same morning ritual every day without a fail! He would wake up before me and cook himself our breakfast. And to be honest I don’t know how he could do it,for 6 months straight now,every single day. It mesmerized me how much dedication he had with my and the baby’s well being.

“What did I do to deserve you?To deserve this everyday?” I honestly asked while I pointed to the tray

He shyly smiled and I could swear he blushed before answering “Baby girl,you’re making a big deal out of nothing really,it’s a simple gesture that I like to do,because I love you and our little bundle of joy” He rubbed my bump “I just like to take care of you both that’s all...now let’s eat before the food gets cold”

I smiled and took a good look on the tray,there was scrambled eggs,plain toast and toast with jam,fruit salad,water,coffee and juice. I eagerly reached for the coffee when...

“Nu uh! You’re not drinking that missy!” He took the coffee out of my sight “I’ve made you some peach juice and there’s water.”

I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed sigh before saying “The doctor said that I had do control the amount of caffeine I drink and not to totally quit it,you know?”

“First things first,don’t roll you eyes at me missy. Secondly yours and the baby’s health comes in first place,so that means no caffeine for you”

“But I-“

“There’s no arguing about it! Now drink your juice and eat your breakfast!”

“Whatever you say,dad” I scoffed

He briefly chuckled and said “Don’t you worry baby girl, later tonight, I’m sure the same words will come out of your mouth with a different tone to it” he deviously smirked at me.

I was finishing opening the last package with some of the baby’s items I’ve bought online, to find the one thing I was looking for. A romper with some beautiful and delicate flower patterns on it, with the saying ‘ I may be small,but I’m a one big wish come true’, the same words Roman said to the baby when we’ve found out I was 4 weeks pregnant.

I smiled and made my way to his office, I was so excited to show him what I’ve found that I bursted through the door saying

“Hey Ro,look what I’ve foun-“ I stopped talking as soon as I saw he wasn’t alone “I’m so sorry! I didn’t knew you had a meeting,that was so reckless of me to burst in like that,sorry.”

“It’s ok baby, it’s a last minute meeting, I didn’t even had time to let you know, it’s ok tho, I know you didn’t mean to” He smiled “Besides,we’re pretty much done here.” He stood up from his chair,made his way towards me at the door and whispered “I’m just gonna go grab something really quick,so I can give to David,then I’m all yours ok?”

“Sure,Ro” I answered and he pecked my lips

“I’ll be right back baby” And he quickly went down the stairs.

Personally, I don’t like David, as matter of fact I fucking hate him! He is one of the guys who takes shifts with Ben selling Roman’s product on the streets. And he’s a total pervert.

Every time he sees me he flirts (borderline harass) me, making disgusting comments about me,my body,my clothes..and since I got pregnant it became worst, I once caught him saying that he loved the fact that I’m pregnant now,because it would make my boobs look bigger and I would look so good that way. To say that he’s disgusting and filthy is an understatement, he’s the worst scum bag I’ve ever seen! I never said anything to Roman because I know David is one of his top guys and I didn’t wanted to ruin his business,but I swear that many,many times I wish I had told him.

David stood up and made his way dangerously towards me

“Well, well...what do we have here?Two beautiful girls” He reach his arm to touch my bump and a ferocious mother instinct took over me. I could take care of myself but I’ll be damned if he touches my baby!

“Touch her and I’ll kill you myself” I snarled.

It may sound dumb, since she wasn’t even born yet, to think that he could actually touch her. But he knew that to me touching a woman’s pregnant bump was as intimate as touching her baby. And he would never,ever touch my baby girl!

“Calm down mama” he chuckled “I mean no harm! I gotta say tho Y/N, you look as beautiful as ever” he measured me from head to toe with an aroused look upon his eyes and I had to hold myself from throwing up.

“You know I would give anything for that baby to be mine and not his right?” He approached me carefully

“Stay away from me”

“Calm down tigress!” He lightly laughed

“Don’t you dare to touch me or her! You make me sick!”

“I just wanna give my girls a hug,that’s all”

Pure fear surrounded me and I turned away to run,but he was faster pulling me towards him, wrapping his arms around my belly making my ass rest on his erection.

“See,how I get whenever I see you tigress?” He started to caress my baby bump and hot tears poured down my eyes making my sight completely blurred. I felt someone quickly yank him from me and I cleaned my eyes to see Roman on top of him restlessly throw punch after punch on his face.

“Have you lost your fucking mind motherfucker? You must have a death wish boy!” Roman said while he continued to punch him with such a ferocious rage that I was pretty sure his face was getting unrecognizable.

He started to choke in his own blood, so Roman stopped his actions, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulled the 9mm gun he always kept on his pants back waist. He put the gun nozzle on his cheek close to his lips and David started to cry babbling something along the lines of please and sorry. Roman just ignored saying

“Who the fuck you think you are boy? You live from my money, live in one of my houses, sell my drugs and still you think you can come to my house and mess with my pregnant woman” Roman dragged the nozzle from his cheek to his closed lips “And unborn daughter, under my roof and it will all be ok? Open your mouth” David begin to cry even harder “I said open. your. fucking. mouth boy!” He screamed and David slowly opened his mouth.

Roman places the nozzle inside of David’s mouth and continues to say scaringly calm

“What’s the matter Davie? I thought you liked to touch and talk obscenities to pregnant women. Go on now,continue what you were saying to my wife” David paralyzed “C’mon Dave, don’t be shy! You clearly have no respect for women, specially for my woman, or myself for that matter. So go for it, I’m all ears now!” The light beige rug beneath David started to slowly become a darker beige tone, was he?..

“Oh Davie, you filthy motherfucker, you’re pissing on my fucking rug???! Unbelievable! You know I’ll have to discount this from your paycheck right?” Roman was now laughing uncontrollably, he looked at me with amusement on his eyes

“Do you see this Y/N? David is scared...poor thing!” He continued to chuckle “Are you afraid to die Dave?”

“Yes, sir” David barely mumble

“Don’t you worry Davie boy, I’m not gonna kill you...I’ll just make you an example for any dumb motherfucker who thinks he can disrespect my wife or daughter..” Roman smiled

It has been 2 weeks now,since the incident with David. Roman has never once spoken about him since Ben took him out of our house.

I was in the baby’s nursery, organizing some of her clothing in the little lavender and white wardrobe we just bought for her, when Roman came through the door.

“Whatcha doing baby girl?”

“Trying to organize the chaos” I laughed,there were clothes and toys all over the nursery.

He placed one hand on my bump and whispered “And what’s my other baby girl doing,huh?” He kneeled down and nuzzled his nose on my belly, placing his bearded cheek on it right after.

“Oh definitely sleeping!” I chuckled

“I wonder where did she got it from?” He tried to hold back a laugh

“Uh” I gasped, pretending to be offended “Roman, are you trying to imply that I’m the lazy one?”

“No baby! I would never say such thing!” He smiled while pressing his chin to my bump so he could look at me with an amused look on his face.

“Yeah right you wouldn’t!” I laughed while I stroked his bearded cheek. He stood up and sweetly kissed my lips before going to the little wardrobe.

“Oh,this is cute” He said while holding a yellow dress with big black polka dots in it.

I couldn’t stop the thought that lingered on my mind for 2 weeks now, and before I could process what I was saying the words left my mouth.

“Ro, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, baby girl. Whatcha wanna know?” He answered still amused by the baby’s dresses

“What happened with David?”

I could see that his whole body tensed, before relaxing again. He took a small hanger out of the wardrobe, hanged the little yellow dress on it and put it back on the baby’s wardrobe before turning to face me,while calmly answering

“Who?”

I love Roman,although he’s a big guy and all of that I was never afraid of him, but I’ve never seen such a cruel, cold look on his face...and to be honest it was kinda scary.

“David...” I whispered

“I don’t know what you’re talking about baby” He gave me the coldest smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Roman...you’re kinda scaring me,love” My voice came out quite shaky

“Y/N, baby girl..” He came to me and cupped my face on his hands “Look at me baby” I did as he asked

“Y/N, I sincerely tell you that I don’t know who this David is or what happened to him. I’ve never met any David baby girl... You look a little flushed, why don’t we go downstairs to the kitchen and I’ll make you a sandwich huh? I need to keep my girls healthy” He leaned one hand down to my belly and the other one stroked my hair.

“What do you say baby?”

“Yeah Ro,that sounds nice”

“Good” He sincerely smiled at me and the warmth was back to his eyes “C’mon” he intertwined our fingers as we went down the stairs to the kitchen “I have to take care of my girls” He said while he looked at me with a smile.

That’s when I realized that whatever happened with David I would never know, and to be honest with you, I don’t even think I wanna know anymore...

[headcan0nhaven]

Title: Family Matters (pt. 1)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Pairing: David King & Sister!Reader (platonic)

Rating: PG13

Summary: In which the sister of David King finds herself quitting her shitty job, intimidating a mafia boss, finding her stupid brother, and getting a one way trip to the fog. God, she hates her stupid little life.

Warnings: Death, Blood, Mentions of Death, Graphic Violence, Sadism, Horror, Stalking mentioned, Fighting, Injuries, Body Horror mentioned, Sexual Harassment briefly mentioned

A/N: Pls go give me a silly little request in my silly little request box.

“Goddamn it, David. Answer your fucking phone” You frustratedly muttered.

“-lease record your message or press 1 for mo-” The annoyingly monotoned voicemail lady was cut off with you angerly pressing the “end call” button.

You resisted the urge to throw your phone on the ground and scream. Instead, it returns safely in your pocket, despite the white knuckled grip you had on it.

You had honestly hoped your brute strength would destroy it.

You kneel down and place your hands on your head, running your fingers through your scalp.

After a tense moment you let out a sigh, leaning into the wall behind you and sliding down.

Well fuck.

You were really hoping you wouldn’t have to call Rik.

Now, don’t give me wrong, Rik was a very kind man. Rik was the type of guy to always have your back in a fight, to support you no matter what. You were honestly grateful David had him as a friend.

But he was also David’s friend.

You and David live very different lives. Although he was a good man, Rik wasn’t the type you personally saw yourself hanging around.

Then again, if David wasn’t your brother, you supposed he wouldn’t be either.

With another sigh, you pull out your phone to dial the all too familiar number of Rik.

After a few rings, theres a slight click, “Hello?” A groggy voice answered.

“Rik, listen, it’s me, have you heard from David in the last few days? He was supposed to meet me for dinner and he never showed. He won’t pick up any of my calls.”

“What?” The voice on the other end sounded a bit more alert now.

“Can you let me know if he’s pissed at me or something? I just wanna know if he’s with you.”

“Wait wait wait, I haven’t seen David in days.”

“What?” David wasn’t a man with many friends. Rik was the only person you could think of that would be with him right now.

“Yeah, last we drank together was after work on Thursday.”

It was Wednesday.

“Damn. Well do you know where he could be?”

“He might be at Penny’s if you’re lucky. I know he works later tonight too.”

You held in a groan. Penny’s Bar was the nastiest place you had ever been to in your life.

The sticky seats and the wandering hands had been enough for you to immediately decide you absolutely hated the dump.

“Alright, well if you see him, let me know.”

“Yeah, i’ll give him a call after this. Let you know if I find ‘im.” The other voice yawned. The line beeped, signaling the other man had hung up.

Standing up, you grab the keys to your car and jacket.

Locking the door behind you, you start your vehicle with a new intent.

Step one: Find David.

Step two: Kick his ass for making you go to Penny’s.

[cardest]

Tennessee playlist

I’m going to Memphis! This is the mighty Tennessee - Memphis & Nashville playlist. You can’t tell the story of rock n roll without mentioning Memphis. Mississippi and Nashville, such a great history of music in this region. Chuck D hits things off with the ultimate introduction. Hit play here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC1_X9nesbW37-9FNLiJWOQ1f

This playlist has it all. Soul, blues and rock n roll. We take a journey back to the beginning of country as well, with Nashville and finish up at Dollywood. Hope you dig it.

Tennessee - Mississippi - Arkansas

001 Henry Rollins & Chuck D - Rise Above 002 Clutch -  Devil & Me 003 Paul Simon - Graceland 004 Isaac Hayes - Memphis Trax 005 Scott Walker - Thats How I Got to Memphis 006 AC/DC - let there be rock 007 Johnny Cash -  Country Boy 008 Chuck Berry -  Back To Memphis 009 Jay Reatard - Gree, Money, Useless Children 010 Lukah - Black Dragon 011 King Curtis - Memphis Soul Stew 012 Rosetta Howard & the Harlem Hamfats - Delta Bound 013 Nots - In Glass 014 Pere Ubu - Memphis 015 Loretta Lynn - The Pill 016 Howlin Wolf - Smokestack Lightnin 017 Rory Gallagher - The Mississippi Sheiks 018 Crime and the City Solution - Streets Of West Memphis 019 River City Tanlines - Met You Before 020 Johnny Cash - Going To Memphis 021 Al Green - Get Back Baby 022 Kim Salmon & The Surrealists - The Zipper 023 Booker T & the MG - Melting Pot 024 Pussycat - Mississippi 025 Boswell Sisters - Roll On, Mississippi, Roll On 026 Aretha Franklin   - Muddy Water 027 The Cramps - Garbageman 028 HASH REDACTOR - Good Sense 029 Optic Sink - Personified 030 Angry Angles - Blockhead 031 Big Star - Thirteen 032 Memphis Jug Band -  Going Back to Memphis 033 North Mississippi AllStars - K.C. Jones (On The Road Again) 034 Bass Drum Of Death -  Bad Reputation 035 Today Is the Day -  The Devil's Blood 036 Walk the Line Soundtrack- Get Rhythm 037 Jack White -  Temporary Ground 038 Jerry Lee Lewis - A Damn Good Country Song 039 The Homemade Jamz Blues Band - Rumors 040 Saving Abel - Pine Mountain (The Dance of the Poor Proud Man) 041 The Oxford Circle - Foolish Woman 042 Bobbie Gentry - Greyhound Goin' Somewhere 043 Reigning Sound - A Little More Time 044 NINA SIMONE - MISSISSIPPI GODDAM! 045 Laurie Anderson - Hiawatha 046 Glen Campbell - Burning Bridges 047 Dolly Parton - Hillbilly Willy 048 Elvis Presley - Guitar Man 049 Blue Oyster Cult - Divine Wind 050 Sammy Hagar - Halfway To Memphis 051 Izzy Stradlin   - Memphis                       052 Johnny Cash -  Run Softly, Blue River 053 Iron Horse - Unchained 054 The Cramps - Human Fly 055 Faces - Memphis 056 Jack Oblivian - Rat City 057 The Cooters - Bustin' Loose 058 Mott the Hoople - All The Way From Memphis 059 Dusty Springfield -  Breakfast in Bed 060 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Tupelo 061 Chicago - Blues In The Night             062 Crossin Dixon - Guitar Slinger 063 Strummin' With The Devil - And the Cradle Will Rock 064 Stray Cats -  Can't Go Back to Memphis 065 Elvis Presley - Suspicious Minds 066 Suzi Quatro - Can't Trust Love 067 Lost Sounds - There's Nothing   068 Ike & Tina Turner ~ River Deep, Mountain High 069 Neil Diamond - Memphis Flyer 070 Julien Baker - hardline 071 The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Memphis Soul Typecast 072 Isaac Hayes  - Groove-A-Thon 073 Otis Clay - Trying To Live My Life Without You 074 Tim McGraw - Don't Mention Memphis 075 Eric Burdon & War - Blues For Memphis Slim 076 Homemade Jamz Blues Band - Blues Train 077 Sweet Knives - I DON'T WANNA DIE 078 Cream - Four Until Late 079 Grateful Dead - Golden Road 080 Huey Lewis and the  NEWS - Function At The Junction 081 The Cramps - I Was A Teenage Werewolf 082 Jesse Winchester_ The Brand New Tennessee Waltz 083 Dorsey Burnette - Tall Oak Tree 084 Field Music - Time In Joy 085 Jay Reatard -  Blood Visions 086 The Rolling Stones - Honky Tonk Women 087 Quintron & Miss Pussycat  - Block the comet 088 Al Green - Let's Stay Together 089 The Mountain Goats - Getting Into Knives 090 Johnny Cash -  Tennessee Flat Top Box 091 Robert Pete Williams & Robert “Guitar" J. Welch - Mississippi Heavy Water Blues 092 MARY JAMES - MAKE THE DEVIL LEAVE ME ALONE 093 Ministry - Mississippi Queen 094 U.S. Bombs - Rocks in Memphis 095 Nazareth - Jet Lag 096 The Bar-Kays - Holy Ghost 097 Ty Segall - Despoiler Of Cadaver 098 His Hero Is Gone - Like Weeds 099 Jerry Lee Lewis - Memphis Beat 100 Generation X =  King Rocker 101 The Doobie Brothers - Wild Ride 102 Bad Company - Whiskey Bottle 103 Black Stone Cherry - When The Weight Comes Down 104 Buddy Miles - Memphis Train 105 Memphis Slim - Rockin' The House (Beer Drinkin' Woman) 106 David Clayton Thomas  - Wish The World Would Come to Memphis 107 Lost Sounds - Better Than Somethings 108 Alice Cooper - Ubangi Stomp 109 Tom Waits -  Don't Go Into The Barn 110 Hank Snow - Music Makin' Mama From Memphis 111 Phil Ochs - Heres to the State of Misssippi 112 Reigning Sound  - Your Love Is A Fine Thing 113 Pixies -  Letter to Memphis 114 Bob Dylan - Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again 115 The Colorblind James Experience - Considering A Move To Memphis 116 B.B.King - Rock Me Baby 117 Carla Thomas - B-A-B-Y 118 Aquarian Blood - A Love That Leads To War 119 Nights Like These - Scavenger's Daughter 120 Rufus Thomas - Walking the Dog 121 Clutch -  The House That Peterbilt 122 Lyal Strickland - O Arkansas 123 Don Bryant - How Do I Get There 124 The Sensational Barnes Brothers - Trying To Go Home 125 Squirrel Nut Zippers - Memphis Exorcism 126 Faster Pussycat - Tattoo 127 The Rolling Stones - Memphis Tennessee 128 Alcatrazz -  Sons And Lovers 129 Evil Army - Violence And War 130 Deep Purple - Somebody Stole My Guitar (Purpendicular 11) 131 Dwight Yoakam - Guitars, Cadillacs 132 UFO - Natural Thing 133 Thunderbridge Bluegrass Boys - Tennessee 134 Confederate Railroad - Queen of Memphis 135 The Box Tops - The Letter 136 Jerry Lee Lewis - Night Train To Memphis 137 Reverend John Wilkins - Trouble 138 Phil Lynott - Kings Call (feat. Mark Knopfler) 139 Old Crow Medicine Show - Motel in Memphis 140 Candy Lee- Here in Arkansas 141 Pharoah Sanders - You've Got To Have Freedom 142 Molly Hatchet - Mississippi Moon Dog 143 Rwake - Crooked Rivers 144 CARL PERKINS & PAUL SIMON - A Mile Out Of Memphis 145 Eddie Floyd - Knock On Wood 146 Al Green - Talk to me 147 Mush - Eat the Etiquette 148 PJ Harvey - Memphis 149 EX-CULT  - Clinical Study 150 Isaac Hayes  - Mans Temptation 151 Lil’ Jon & Eastside Boyz - Rep Yo City 152 Rufus Wainwright - Memphis Skyline 153 Stray Cats - 18 Miles to Memphis 154 Amasa Hines - Earth and Sky 155 Joe Henderson -  Back Road 156 Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash - Memphis Woman 157 Norma Jean - Memphis Will Be Laid To Waste 158 Fess Parker - Ballad of Davy Crockett 159 Assjack -  Redneck Ride 160 Brother Andy & His Big Damn Mouth - Social Lube 161 The Replacements - Alex Chilton 162 Ann Peebles - The handwriting is on the wall 163 The Highwaymen -  Big River 164 The Cult - Memphis Hip Shake 165 STEVE EARLE -  Hillbilly Highway 166 The BO-KEYS featuring OTIS CLAY -Got To Get Back 167 Rush - Tom Sawyer 168 Class Of '55: Memphis Rock & Roll Homecoming - Birth Of Rock And Roll 169 Hank Williams Jr - Memphis Belle 170 Sam Moore & Dave Prater - Soul Man 171 Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark - Bloc Bloc Bloc 172 Kenny Rogers & The First Edition  - Just Dropped In 173 Linda Heck - pictures of dead people 174 Carla Thomas - Sugar 175 Three Mafia 6 - Mystic Stylez 176 Osborne Brothers- Rocky Top 177 The Beverly Hillbillies Theme Song 178 Wilson Pickett - Barefootin' 179 Dolly Parton - Jolene 180 Charlie Daniels - long haired country boy 181 The Civil Wars - From This Valley 182 Jill Jack - Gettin' On In Memphis (The Elvis Song) 183 Huckleberry Finn and His Friends - Opening title 184 Dead Cross -  Skin of a Redneck 185 Johnny Cash - I Never Picked Cotton 186 Old Crow Medicine Show -  Wagon Wheel 187 Isaac Hayes  - That love feeling 188 Aretha Franklin - I say a little prayer 189 Little Milton - What Do You Do When You Love Somebody 190 Howlin' Wolf - Spoonful 191 Weird Al" Yankovic - Money For Nothing / Beverly Hillbillies 192 The Oblivians - I'll Be Gone 193 OT Sykes - Stone crush on you 194 The Mad Lads  - Come closer to me 195 The Box Tops - Choo Choo train 196 Bobby Blue Bland - dreamer 197 Wanda Jackson - Rip It Up 198 Junior Parker - Love Ain't Nothin' but a Business Goin' On 199 The Nightingales ft. Tommy Tate - Just a Little Overcome 200  The Louvin Brothers - Satan is real 201 Overture "Big River" - (1985 Original Broadway Cast) 202 Ike & Tina Turner - Shake 203 Playa Fly - fly shit 204 Adia Victoria - Different Kind Of Love 205 Grateful Dead - Tennessee Jed 206 Red Hot Chili Peppers - Backwoods 207 Otis Redding - Tennessee Waltz 208 Nashville Pussy - The Late Great USA 209 The Paperhead - The true poet 210 Tomahawk - South Paw 211 Night Beats - Her Cold Cold Heart 212 Forest of Tygers - human monster 213 LOSS - All Grows on Tears 214 Charlie McCoy - Wayfaring Stranger 215 Dick Stusso - Modern Music 216 Eddie Noack - Aint the Reaping Ever Done 217 Jason & the Scorchers - Greetings From Nashville   218 Jasmin Kaset and Quichenight - A Single Right Word 219  Gospel Keynotes - Give Me My Flowers 220   WEEN - Scrape the Mucus off My Brain 221 Shannon Shaw - Broke My Own 222 The Jesus Lizard - Blue Shot 223 Eddy Arnold    - Tennessee Stud 224 Clutch - Pure Rock Fury 225 Today Is The Day -  Who Is The Black Angel? 226 Hank Williams Jnr - Tennessee River 227 The Dead Weather -  Bone House 228  Every Mother's Nightmare - Long Haired Country Boy 229 Motley Crue - She goes down 230 Waylon Jennings - Tennessee 231 Dolly Parton - Down On Music Row 232 Jello Biafra & Mojo Nixon - Lets Go Burn Ole Nashville Down 233 The Byrds - Nashville West 234 Sharon Van Etten - Every Time the Sun Comes Up 235 Bill Anderson ~ More Than A Bedroom Thing 236 Dottie West - Route 65 To Nashville 237 Intruder - The Martyr 238 Johnny Cash - Smiling Bill McCall 239 Lynard Skynyrd - Workin For MCA 240 The Everly Brothers  - Nashville Blues 241 Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazlewood - Elusive Dreams 242 Nashville Bluegrass Band - Im Gonna Love You 243 Ringo Starr - No-No Song 244 Hank Williams - Hey, Good Lookin' 245 The Lovin Spoonful - Nashville Cats 246 They Might Be Giants - James K. Polk 247 Commander Cody  -  Back To Tennessee 248 Wanda Jackson - Shakin' All Over 249 Nitty Gritty Dirt Band - Grand Ole Opry Song 250 Tomahawk - Flashback 251 Megadeth -  Dystopia 252 Dolly Parton -  Train, Train 253 The Clovers - One Mint Julep 254 Trampled By Turtles - Whiskey 255 Tom T. Hall - Nashville is a Groovy Little Town 256 Muddy Waters - I am the blues 257 Foo Fighters - Congregation 258 Pavement - Strings Of Nashville 259 Joe Ely - Tennessees Not The State Im In 260 Waylon Jennings - Nashville Bum 261 The Charmels - As Long As I Got You 262 Eve Maret - Do my thing 263 SABATON - 82nd All the Way 264 Halfway To Hazard - Welcome To Nashville 265 Nashville Pussy - Go Motherfucker Go 266 Indigo Girls - Nashville 267 Snarls - Walk In The Woods 268 Steeler - Cold Day in Hell 269 Strummin' With The Devil  - Jamies Cryin' 270 spazz gummo love theme 271 The Cramps - Cornfed Dames 272 Saxon -  Solid Ball Of Rock 273 Al Green - Tired of Being Alone 274 Soul Friction - It's Out Of My Hands 275 Today Is the Day - Wheelin' 276 Jackie Lynn - Odessa 277 The Jesus Lizard - Nub 278 Bully - Where To Start 279 Sonny Boy Williamson II - Lonesome Cabin 280 Tomahawk - God hates a coward 281 The Louvin Brothers - Knoxville Girl 282 Tom Waits - Jitterbug Boys 283 The Evil Dead Soundtrack  - Bridge Out 284 Wanda Jackson - Thunder On The Mountain 285 Elvis Presley - Where Do I Go From Here 286 Booker T & the MGs - Back Home 287 Ezra Furman & the Harpoons - American Highway 288 Joe Ely - dream camera 289 Assjack - Tennessee Driver 290 Nashville Pussy  - We Want A War 291 Dwight Yoakam - A Thousand Miles From Nowhere 292 Hank Williams, Jr. - Knoxville Courthouse Blues 293 ZZ Top - My Head's in Mississippi 294 Nitty Gritty Dirt Band -  Honky Tonkin' 295 Dead Weather - Die by the Drop 296 The Black Belles - What can I do 297 Dolly Parton  - Cowgirl And The Dandy 298 The Secret Sisters  - I've Got a Feeling 299 Justin Townes Earle - Aint Got No Money 300 Tomahawk - M.E.A.T 301 Jex Thoth - The Places You Walk 302 Bill Carter - Road To Nowhere 303 Bill Dees (Roy Orbison back vocals) - Tennesse Owns My Soul 304 Karen Elson  - The Ghost Who Walks 305 The Who - Whiskey Man 306 Hank Williams III - Crazed Country Rebel 307 The Lost Sounds - I Get Nervous 308 Big Star - September Gurls 309 ZZ Top - Whiskey n Mama 310 Johnny Cash - God's Gonna Cut You Down 666 Isaac Hayes - Hyperbolicsyllablecsesquedalymistic

Hit play: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC1_X9nesbW37-9FNLiJWOQ1f

[gunpowderdtim]

Jonny Playlist Song Justification Post

I am making this for myself and no other reason.

Playlist link

You’re all Scotch, No Soda - Sarah and the Safe Word

Jonny when Jonny was first joining Jacks, before things got really really bad. Basically the part of Jony’s life that was just I Guess Im Working For Jacks Now Okay

Bust Your Kneecaps -  Pomplamoose

Jonny working for Jacks, things are bad now. This is Jacks threatening Jonny. This song is also in my Ashes playlist. For flare, the song is directed at a Jonny

Devil’s Point - Wicked Shallows

Jonny meeting Carmilla.

Dirty Town - Mother Mother

Jonny thinking about leaving New Texas. Not really a perfect fit, but it fits enough.

Boy Like Me - Barns Courtney

Jonny kills his father and jacks, this song acts as the aftermath and the between stage before he’s mechanized but after the casino burned.

A Sadness Runs Through Him - The Hoosiers

Jonny’s death song, sort of, a commentary on Jonny’s life up until his death that this song represents.

Spaceman - The Killers

Jonny Is Mechanized - Jonny Point Of View 

Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

Carmilla about Jonny’s death

Johnny Boy - Twenty One Pilots

Jonny Is Mechanized - Carmilla Point Of View. aka Carmilla mechanizing Jonny and loving her son

Dopamine - Barns Courtney

Jonny On Being Mechanized.

Wired Wrong - Steam Powered Giraffe

Jonny’s mechanism has glitches

O My Heart - Mother Mother

Jonny on his heart

Go Get Your Gun - The Dear Hunters

Jonny stops being so emo about being immortal and he and carmilla start vibing again. Aka Jonny Becomes A Chaos Lad! The song.

Hobo Rocket - Barns Courtney

Jonny vibing as a young chaotic immortal somewhere. Shit isnt bad yet.

Alone Together - Fall Out Boy

Nastya is mechanized. 

The Attractions Of Youth - Barns Courtney

Jonny vibing but in a less chaotic sence. Nastya has been mechanized, theyre vibing together here. 

Autoclave - The Mountain Goats

This is just a Jonny song. I put it here bc I imagine it after Nastya being mechanized.

The Stars - Steam Powered Giraffe

The other mechansims are being mechanized and the chaos begins. 

Fire - Barns Courtney

This is another just a Jonny song. I put it here bc its post other mechs and he’s just vibing lmao.

Saturn suv - Fredo Disco

Jonny is a depressed teenager asmr

The Fall - Half Alive

Things are getting not great with Carmilla.

Haze - Tessa Violet

Jonny is not okay. Thats what this song is. Jonny is not good.

Be Nice To Me - The Front Bottoms

Shit going down with Carmilla

Centuries - Fall Out Boy

Tim is mechanized.

November - David Wirsig

And now shit is Really Bad with Carmilla. Starts with a reflection on the beginning, leading into the now, which is bad.

Spaceship - Art Sorority

Jonny thinking about things like getting rid of carmilla, of carmilla leaving, leading up to the first airlocking. Spesifically thinking about leaving Aurora himself but its also the build up to the airlocking.

The Cave - Mumford And Sons

Song is about Jonny and Carmilla’s relationship leading to the now, from start to end, and her leaving. Carmilla singing. The conversation leading to her leaving. This is her point of view.

Like A Staring Contest - The Future Kings of Nowhere

Jonny realizing the hopelessness of he and Carmilla’s relationship and how its doomed, the forelorn mourning half, the she’s my mom and she’s going to leave half, the i love her half, the we both know this is going to break and this is doomed but neither of us want to let go, despite the fact its for the best. i think about this song for them constantly.

Carnivore - Bear Attack!

The angry side of it, Jonny hating Carmilla, Jonny hating what she’s done to them, hating how she hurts them, Jonny’s anger. Jonny’s livid churning anger. He’s done with her bullshit, he’s done with her, and he wants her gone.

Damn These Vampires - The Mountain Goats

Jonny thoughout his entire life leading to this moment, another reflection song leading to now. Eerily spesific. 

Hell - Dear Sherlock

Post Carmilla Lows

Rather Die - Barns Courney

Post Carmilla High. Another Jonny vibing song!!! He Is Simply Vibing So Much Here. 

Kitchen Fork - Jack Conte

Jonny angst song. He’s just. Not vibing lmao.

Ship in a bottle - fin (Steffan Argus)

Jonny is “captain” now. This song represents that transition to that. This song is about Jonny being the “leader” now.

Sleepwalk - Forrest Day

Jonny angst asmr. this song is a bop. Look he has nightmares n this vibes with him. Kinda about Jonny’s trauma manifesting w/ violence and being awful

Glitter & Gold - Barns Courtney

Jonny is vibing now! This song is highkey about Jonny being immortal and is genuinely just a song where he vibes with only a bit of angst

Im Gonna Win - Rob Cantor

Jonny vibing even more!! We’ve reached songs that are litterally just him vibing!! This songs dark bits are applicable to him though!! Kinda him recovering from Carmilla Trauma in some places

Dont Threaten Me With A Good Time - Panic! at the disco

He’s vibing

Wilson - Fall Out Boy

Jonny litterally just being drunk n stupid

Long Long Time Ago - Jack Conte

Jonny being a cryptid on a random planet. This is a song about the crytid known as Jonny D’Ville.

Give Me Back The Night - Mother Mother

Out. In a bop way. This is out. This is out if out were one of my top 100 songs.

Little Boy - Barns Courtney

Jonny reflecting on his life, his whole existance, and looking back to who he was as a kid, until now. The beginning of the death arc.

Home - Barns Courtney 

Jonny reflecting on his heart, on his life continued. He knows he’s ending soon. 

Tell Me How It Ends - David Wirsig

Jonny knowing his death is soon. Jonny knowing he is ending. Jonny reflecting on Carmilla. Jonny on his death, and the fact that like everything else, he is a story.

Space Cowboy - Abney Park

Jonny dies. this makes me cry, having this song last.

[thejollyroger-writer]

THE WASTELAND - INTO THE DEEP, DARK THICK OF IT (11/?)

Hey, everyone! It's been literal weeks since I've posted anything, but I'm coming at you today with chapter 11 of THE WASTELAND, my @cssns 2020 fic! (With lovely cover art by @spartanguard and chapter art to follow!!!)

Some triggers: this story is rated TEEN, mostly for violence. It takes place during wartime, and some of the characters go through some violence and torture. If you need more information about this, please just message me! 

SUMMARY:  In a world that has been saturated in war for as long as anyone can remember, Emma Swan has rebuilt her life as far away from the chaos as possible, opening her own maternity hospital after spending too many years in makeshift battlefield aid stations. But one night, a bloodied and battered soldier finds her hospital trying to get away from an enemy with a penchant for torture and a personal vendetta against him. With the help of Emma’s childhood friend Prince David and a motley collection of humans and magic-wielders, the quest to save Killian Jones’ life from the poison used by the enemy takes them to places even beyond the known world.

On AO3 (follow this link to get there!)

David pulls the map from the tree, holding it between his hands, and the rest of them crowd around him to look over his shoulder at it — except Emma, who keeps her distance. She doesn’t know if it’s from what happened in the Echo Caves or from finding half of their crew taken again, but she feels sick to her stomach, and taking slow, deep breaths is less than helpful in the thick, humid air of the Neverland forests. 

But she is still close enough to hear their conversation: 

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong, Killian, but isn't that—" David says, only to be cut off prematurely by Killian. 

"The Dark Jungle? Aye."

Mary Margaret tries next: "And that's where you told us—" 

"Never to go? Uh-huh," he says bluntly.  

"But this map is leading us—” Robin tries, but this time, David cuts him off. 

"Directly into the middle of it." 

“And we’re walking right into his trap?” Mary Margaret asks. 

“I don’t really see another option, do you?” David asks, and Emma turns to them just in time to see Mary Margaret reach out and take David’s hand, sharing a small but obviously love-filled glance with him. Though she has seen it many times before, has been watching her two best friends share displays of affection for years now, this simple gesture makes her stomach turn again. 

She didn’t know she was such a cynic. Sure, she’s been having sinking feelings about the validity of true love and things like that, but she never once imagined actually saying those things out loud.

To Killian. To a dying man who pretty much confessed his love to her. 

But she did. She didn’t even know she felt that strongly about it until she was already spewing her secret in the Cave, but once the words were out, there was no way of taking them back. Maybe that was Pan’s plan all along, to cause a rift between just her and Killian, because it doesn’t seem to her like anyone else was as affected by the Echo Caves as they were. 

Milah clears her throat, and they all seem to remember simultaneously that she is there. As the rest of the group turns towards her, Emma focuses on Killian, watching his face change as he looks at her. A rollercoaster of emotions crosses his face, his features softening before hardening again, as if remembering everything she told them in the Caves. “I’ve spent a lot of time on this island, and have learned some of the ways around. This map is sending you right through Pan’s camp, where all of his henchmen stay. It’s almost definitely a trap.” 

With that, his features soften again. “How long have you been here?” 

“Not long after Liam was killed and I thought they killed you. Pan offered me a life away from the War, and since that was all I ever wanted, I accepted before realizing it was a trap to keep me here.” 

“That’s twelve years, Milah,” he whispers, and something in the way he says her name makes Emma’s heart stop — or so it feels like. Every inch of her is weighed down by it, by the incredible familiarity that every inch of him exudes. Milah hurt him so much, Emma could tell by his response to her in the Cave. She hurt him, yet he still seems to have feelings for her. 

That’s what she wants, she realizes, standing there taking it all in. She knows she crossed a line, completely disregarded Killian’s feelings, and she wants to be forgiven. She wants to go back to how it was before they went into the damned Cave, before Pan pitted them against each other. 

She only hopes it’s not too late. 

“And how do we know that whatever way you take us isn’t also going to be a trap?” David asks, and Emma is glad that someone else feels a little leery trusting the woman who just revealed herself to be the mother of Prince Baelfire. 

“I have no way of proving my allegiance to you,” she says. “Only that I have spent my time here — twelve years, if Killian is right, though it only feels like a few months — as Pan’s prisoner, and though time may flow differently here than in the regular places of the world, I have grown to hate him more with each day I have spent here. If I could do anything to get off this island, I will, but if defeating him is something that could happen in the process of that, I'll do whatever I can to help.” 

David turns to Killian, who just shrugs. “What do you suggest we do?” 

“It’s a bit of a more treacherous path, to be honest, but doesn’t cut through Pan’s camp. Hopefully we’ll run into less Lost Boys that way.” 

“Lost Boys?” Mary Margaret asks. 

Milah nods. “That’s what they call themselves. Or what Pan calls them, I’m not sure who started it. I’ve always felt that they were trapped on this island like I am, but I have no way of proving it. All the ones I’ve been able to talk to seem pretty content to be here.” 

They stay silent for a moment, shifting their packs on their backs, until finally, Killian says, “Well, let’s go, we’re wasting daylight,” before gesturing for Milah to take the lead and following behind her. 

Robin and Mary Margaret take off after them, but Emma pulls David back, keeping a few steps behind them all and out of earshot. 

“Do you really trust this woman?” 

“No,” he says, keeping his gaze on the woods in front of them. “But the way I see it, I don’t really have another choice, do I?” 

Emma shrugs. “I just… have a bad feeling about all of this,” she says, pulling down her ponytail to put it back up and keep the flyaways out of her face as best she can. She's never been to a place as humid as Neverland, and while she was never one to give much care to the state of her hair, she has been finding it much harder to deal with over the last few days. 

“So do I,” he says. “I’ve had a bad feeling about all of this, since that first day when you called me from the hospital. But if listening to this woman — to Prince Baelfire’s mother — is the best chance we have for saving Killian’s life, then who am I to fight it?” 

“You do have a pretty good track record for trusting those you probably shouldn’t,” she jokes, knocking her shoulder into his. 

He chuckles. “That I do.”

  "And who do we have here?" King George leers, glaring down at her from his throne. For the first time since he sat down beside his father earlier that morning, David feels pulled to look up.

He had no idea what to expect, but a girl no more than twelve or thirteen, kneeling on the marble-tiled floor between two armor-clad guards, is certainly not it, though that's what he finds. Though each of their hands extend far past the end of the girl's shoulders, they seem to be pushing her into the ground much harder than David feels is necessary.

She says nothing, only spits on the floor in front of her. He doesn't blame her, really; just by the looks of her, he can tell that her life has been nothing like his own, that she has spent most of her life living on the streets. 

The streets of his kingdom. Or, what will be his kingdom one day. He’s thought about the people who are lesser off than he is, thought about those who don’t live the kind of privileged life that’s been handed to him — but, somehow, these thoughts have never included the idea that people his age could be living on the streets. 

Right here, with this girl right in front of him, it hits him a little too hard in the face. A tremor quakes through his body. 

“Tell me your name, girl,” his father demands, but all she does is glare at him — at them, together on the throne. 

“We found her in the royal gardens, your majesty. Trying to steal food,” one of the guards says, his gloved hand flexing against her shoulder as it keeps her on her knees. 

“Stealing from me, eh? Do you know what the punishment for that is?” 

“Father, you can’t,” David says, surprising himself more than anyone else. 

This time, King George’s glare is directed at him. “Excuse me?” 

David clears his throat, gulps, trying to hide his embarrassment, his nervousness. “The least you could do is cut her a break. She doesn’t deserve to go to the dungeon.” 

“She stole from me, David. From us, from the royal garden. The penalty is a night in the dungeon, no matter who you are.” 

“Just look at her.” 

King George turns away from his son to look back at the girl kneeling on the floor in front of them. For a moment, he is silent, his arms crossed over his chest, before turning back to David. “Okay, fine. What would you do, son?” 

David sits up a little straighter, running his fingers through his hair, if only to try to get ahold of himself. “The first thing I would do would be to offer her a meal.” Though King George’s eyes are on David, the prince is watching the young girl, who looks up at him when he says this. “She’s obviously hungry, or she wouldn’t be stealing from the royal gardens. Gods know we have more than enough food.” 

King George nods, looking back at the girl for a moment. “And then?” 

“Why take any more action? There was no malicious intent. It’s our job to take care of our people, not throw the hungry ones in prison.” 

King George smiles at his son, and for a moment, he feels hope. Maybe, just maybe, his father will see the truth in what he is saying, will be fair for the first time in his life. 

But then he stands up, wiping his hands on his black dress pants. “And that’s why you’re not king yet.” He turns to the guards. “Take her to the dungeons. And give her a piece of bread or something, I suppose.” 

Before David can say a word, King George turns on his heel and walks out of the throne room. As the girl is hauled back to her feet, David tries his best to give her a look filled with sympathy, but he has no idea if she took it that way. 

One day, he’s going to be a benevolent king. One day, none of his people will go hungry, and they will certainly not be sent to the dungeons just for trying to get a bite to eat. For now, though, maybe all he can do is be nice to this one, single young woman. It really is the least he can do. 

  He waits until he is no longer under the watchful supervision of his father, until he has finished the rest of his duties for the day, but then he makes his way down to the kitchens. 

“Hey, Granny,” he says, knocking on the door to the kitchen, though it already stands open. He knows the woman has another name, must have been told of it at some point, but everyone just calls her Granny — except his father, who refers to her only as “the cook,” even to her face. In reality, though, she is much more than that. Though she does not technically run their household, she does most of the work related to it, from running the kitchens to making sure the maids and servants do their jobs as they should. David knows the household would fall apart without her, and therefore always offers her a smile when he finds himself down in the kitchens, or when he runs into her in other parts of the palace. 

“Good evening, your highness,” she says, turning her attention to him for only a moment before turning her attention back to the pot in front of her on the stove. As always, she is stoic, unsmiling, but he has learned that is just how she is, and not to take offense of it, even when the rest of their staff always manage a smile in his direction — and a fake one when his father is around. 

It’s no secret that the household staff prefer the prince over his father. Sometimes they even whisper amongst themselves about how someone as rude as King George could have raised a son like David, who has grown into a polite and understanding young man. 

“What brings you down here this evening?” 

“My father threw a young woman in the dungeons earlier for stealing from the palace gardens, and I would like to make sure she gets a nice, hot meal.” 

This pulls one of the very rare smiles across Granny’s face as she puts down her spoon and wipes her hands on her apron. “Gods bless you, sire.” 

“It really is the least I could do,” he says, leaning back against the doorway, his eyes watching the old woman puttering around the room but the rest of him unmoving. “I tried to talk my father into letting her go — all she wanted was a meal — but he threw her in the dungeons nonetheless.” 

“I was a little girl when your grandfather was king,” she says, adding a few pieces of bread to the tray. “And have lived most of my life in this palace, seeing firsthand how the citizens of the Gale have been treated.” When she turns to look at the prince, his eyes have fallen to the floor, so she takes the tray in her hands and stands before him with it, waiting for him to look up at her. “I’ve been waiting for a ruler like you my whole life, your highness. I only hope that I shall live to see you take your father’s place on the throne.” 

He smiles at the woman, taking the tray of food out of her hands. “The rumor around here is that you’re never going to die,” he says with a wink, then turns and leaves the kitchen, another small smile spreading across the old woman’s face as she shakes her head. 

  He’s happy to see that the guards placed her in the first cell, the one that gets the most light during the day through the old iron gate at the top of the stairs. She is sitting alone in the corner, as far from the door as she can get, and her eyes follow him in what’s left of the light as he walks the few paces down the hallway to reach the door of her cell. 

Neither of them speak, even as he sets the tray of food down on the ground and pushes it through the slot at the bottom of the cell. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, running his index finger along one of the cold iron bars, but then he sits down on the floor, his back against the bars, facing away from her. He wasn’t planning on staying, certainly wasn’t planning on making conversation with her, but there are words coming from his mouth before he can stop them. “My father is an unjust ruler, but there’s not much I can do about it for now. All I can do is go behind his back and try to be the kind of king I want to be someday when he’s not looking. Today was the first time he even asked for my opinion on something, but certainly not the first time I’ve spoken out to him about it, though you saw how he responded to it.” He doesn’t dare to turn his head towards her, but out of the corner of his eye, he notices that she’s slowly moving towards the tray of food, taking the sandwich off the tray. “I’m sorry for the way my father treated you today. I would really — I would like to help you, if you’ll let me.” 

Her voice is soft, but still the fact that she speaks startles David a bit. “You have helped me already.” 

David smiles, fully turning to her and happy to see she has accepted the food he brought as she takes a bite of the sandwich. “I mean once you’re out from behind these bars.” 

“What do you think you could do for me?” There is spite in her voice again, spite that must come from years of being on her own and learning not to trust anyone, David realizes, but does not want to push her to the point where she thinks he is overdoing it. 

He turns away from her again, hoping to keep her trust. “If you’ll allow me — and if you would like — I can try to get you a job working for someone at the palace. I could at least promise you a meal or two a day, though I may also be able to find you a place to stay, depending on what you would be willing to do.” 

For a while, she is silent, slowly eating the sandwich before she begins picking at the pile of grapes. “What would I have to do to have a place to stay?” Her voice is small, showing David a side of her that he doesn’t think very many people get to see, a vulnerability that he can tell she has learned to hide under a thick skin. 

“Have you discovered any powers yet?” He’s not sure how old she is, if he has become of age for her abilities to begin to show themselves. 

“No, not — not yet.” 

“And what about your parents? Did they have powers?” 

“I… never knew my parents. I was left on the steps of one of the temples when I was just a few days old.” 

He’s quiet for another few moments, thinking about it all. “I think the palace healers are searching for an apprentice, actually. I’ll go check with them this evening and come back in the morning to free you and see what I’ve come up with.” 

He stands to leave, not expecting anything else from her, so when he hears a very quiet “thank you” come from behind him, he can’t stop himself from turning back towards her, though he has nothing to say. 

“Why did you help me?” she asks, and he backtracks the three steps he’s taken away from her cell. 

“I would like to be the kind of leader who helps as many people as I can, and it’s never too early to start.” 

“You’re a good man, your highness.” 

“David. Please, just call me David.” He wants to ask the question that’s sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he’s also afraid to; he knows that sometimes orphans are left without a name, but he feels a deep calling to befriend this small, blonde girl currently sitting in his father’s dungeons. So he asks it anyway: “Would you like to tell me your name?” 

They share a smile. In this moment, Emma decides on a surname for the first time in her life. “Emma. Emma Swan. And thank you… David.”

  “Can we stop for a minute?” Mary Margaret asks, leaning against a tree right off the path. “Please?” 

None of them refuse. Killian even looks a little relieved, though he tries to hide his face from them as he digs through his pack, searching for snacks. Most of them dive straight into their supplies, searching for something, since Emma hasn’t yet honed the ability to conjure food like Belle and Merlin have — though, thankfully, most of them still have a fair amount of the food they packed in the first place because of the powers of their more magic-inclined friends. 

Water, however, she is more than able to conjure, filling everyone’s canteens and bottles as they pass them to her — even with Milah insisting that the water on the island is more than safe. 

"We don't want to take any unnecessary chances," David explains, handing Mary Margaret her bottle back. "Especially since we are no longer following the map Pan gave us. Who knows what kind of tricks he still has for us."

Killian, though he doesn’t seem to be listening to their conversation, has pulled the map out of his back pocket and has spread it across his legs, his attention on it instead the rest of the group. But his mind is very, very far away, the same place it has been for the last few hours, save when he has needed to point out something along the trail. 

He's torn. Torn between the choices lying before him, and torn apart by everything that has been thrown at him recently. He never imagined he would see Milah again, especially never imagined that he would have to choose between two women with Milah being one of them. Part of him — most of him, if he’s honest with himself — doesn’t know if he can even trust her, knowing what he learned in the Cave. The mother of the man that has become his enemy, the man who killed his brother and tortured him. 

And then there’s Emma. Days ago, even hours ago, he thought he was in love with her. His only question was whether or not he was going to make it off this island, whether he would have the chance to spend some of his life beside her. 

But now he knows their connection is fake — or, Emma believes it’s fake. Killian realizes, looking across the path to where she is sitting against a tree, her eyes shut, that, to him, it doesn’t even matter. Magic or not, prophecy or not, he’s in love with her.

Turning to Milah, he finds himself surprised by his lack of feeling for her, even as she smiles warmly at him. A smile that he has missed so much over the last twelve years, a smile he never thought he would see again. Still, he feels nothing. Not even hatred, not anger — just… nothing. 

Well, there’s his decision then. He’s not sure that he will ever get past Emma’s disdain towards their connection, but he at least knows that she is the one he chooses.  

If he makes it off this island. 

  A twig snaps behind David, bringing up the rear of the group, and he cannot quite move fast enough to simultaneously whip around and pull his pistol from the waistband of his jeans, calling for Emma's attention. At the last moment, he watches as the young boy that has appeared behind him knocks an arrow on his obviously-homemade bow, and he readies himself for the impact of the crude arrow into his flesh, his finger unable to pull the trigger with an enemy who looks so young. 

But the impact never comes. When he opens his eyes, Emma is standing in front of him, her hands out before her — and the hazy waves emitting from them are holding the arrow, mid-flight, in the air between them. 

Suddenly, a battle cry sounds in the forest around them, other young boys armed with spears and arrows (and David even thinks he sees a slingshot) appear from behind the trees. 

Their group stands unmoving, though their weapons are drawn, as the boys start to move around them, none of them able to bring themselves to fire their weapons at an enemy that looks so much like young boys. 

"They're enchanted, I told you this!" Milah cries, the only one of them unarmed, and she tries to cower behind Robin, who is having none of it. "They look like boys, but they're not!" 

Another one, this one significantly taller and older-looking, pushes through the trees, the smile on his face somehow calling attention to the large scar that runs down his cheek. "And I can assure you that nothing will hold us back from killing you." 

This is apparently the push Robin needs to act, and he releases an arrow at one of the closest of Pan's followers, catching the arm of his jacket and pinning it against the tree. He and Mary Margaret continue with this approach, successfully taking four of the boys out of battle, but it's almost as if they're immediately replaced with four more. 

And each of them are looking towards the tall boy with the scar for their orders. 

When Emma realizes this, she focuses all of her energy on him, though it takes all of the concentration she has to try to hold him still, her powers in battle still very new to her. 

They're still afraid to act, even as the boys begin loosing arrows in their direction. When Emma realizes that freezing their leader isn't helping, she releases him, trying to find somewhere better to focus her powers — and she finds it in a protective barrier around them, stopping many of the boys' arrows. 

But not all of them. Just as Emma begins to feel more confident in her abilities, she senses something came through anyway, and it almost breaks her concentration to turn her head for a moment in the direction she thought she felt it. 

She wishes she hadn't, though, because all she finds is Robin laying on the ground, the twig-end of one of the boy's crude arrows sticking out of the flesh of his thigh. 

"I can help!" she says, but the rest of the group seems to shout No! at the same time, and Milah kneels beside him. 

“Can’t you do something… more?” David asks, and Emma rolls her eyes. 

“I’m doing the best I can here.” 

“You’re doing great, love,” Killian mutters from beside her, bumping his shoulder into hers, then fires a shot at one of the boys, the first shot fired from any of their pistols. It just hits the side of the boy's leg, and he falls to the ground gripping it — but the rest of the boy's stop in their tracks, eyes wide and directed at Killian. 

Silence has fallen around them. 

"What is that?" the oldest of them, the one with the scar, asks, staring at the pistol in Killian's hand. 

It never occurred to them that the Lost Boys haven't seen newer, updated weapons. It never occurred to most of them that Pan would have boys on the island who can't age, who have been stuck here for gods know how long. 

"It's a pistol, you dunce," another of them says, aiming his bow once more — 

— and, somehow, Emma is overcome by a surge of power, emitted from her hands in a blinding flash of white light, sending all of the Lost Boys flying backwards and knocking many of them unconscious. 

"Bloody brilliant, love," Killian mumbles, knocking against her shoulder again as he returns his pistol to the holster. 

Emma whips around, first towards Robin before realizing that David has also come out of the battle wounded. 

"Alright," she says, helping David sit against a tree, her hand pressed against the scrape on the side of his ribs. "Am I allowed to help now?" 

She tries to smile at David, but it doesn't really take — and David certainly doesn't return it. 

Because when she lifts his shirt, the gash on his ribs has already started turning black. She glances over her shoulder, searching for him, but she knows he is seeing the same that she is. 

"Dreamshade," Killian mumbles, kneeling beside her on the ground. "What bloody luck." 

[letterboxd]

Best of SXSW 2021.

From properly good Covid comedies to an epic folk-horror doc and an Indigenous feminist Western, the Letterboxd Festiville team reveals their ten best of SXSW Online.

We dug out old lanyards to wear around the house, and imagined ourselves queuing up the block from The Ritz (RIP). We dialled into screenings and panels, and did our level best to channel that manic “South By” energy from our living rooms.

The SXSW festival atmosphere was muted, and that’s to be expected. But the films themselves? Gems, so many gems, whether shot in a fortnight on the smell of an oily stimulus check, or painstakingly rotoscoped over seven years.

When we asked SXSW Film director Janet Pierson what she and her team were looking for this year, she told us: “We’re always looking for films that do a lot with little, that are ingenious, and pure talent, and discovery, and being surprised. We’re just looking for really good stories with good emotional resonance.” If there was one common denominator we noticed across this year’s SXSW picks, it was a smart, tender injection of comedy into stories about trauma, grief, unwanted pregnancy, chronic health conditions, homelessness, homophobia and, yes, Covid.

It’s hard to pick favorites, but here are the ten SXSW features and two short films we haven’t stopped thinking about, in no particular order.

Recovery Directed by Mallory Everton and Stephen Meek, written by Everton and Whitney Call

“Covid 19 is in charge now” might be the most hauntingly funny line in a SXSW film. In Recovery, two sisters set out on a haywire road trip to rescue their grandmother from her nursing home in the wake of a severe Covid 19 outbreak. There’s no random villain or threat, because isn’t being forced to exist during a pandemic enough of a threat in itself? If ever we were worried about “Covid comedies”, SXSW managed to flush out the good ones. (Read about the Festiville team’s other favorite Covid-inflected comedies, including an interview with the directors of I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking).)

Alex Marzona praises the “off-the-charts chemistry” between leads Mallory Everton and Whitney Call. Best friends since they were nine, the pair also wrote the film, with Everton co-directing with Stephen Meek. Every laugh comes from your gut and feels like something only the cast and crew would usually be privy to. “You can tell a lot of the content is improvised, which just attests to their talent,” writes Emma. Recovery doesn’t make you laugh awkwardly about how awful the last year has been—rather, it reminds you that even in such times there are still laughs to be had, trips to be taken, family worth uprooting everything for. Just make sure you’ve packed enough wet wipes for the road, and think long and hard about who should babysit your mice. —EK

The Spine of Night Written and directed by Morgan Galen King and Philip Gelatt

Don’t get too attached to any characters from its star-studded cast—nobody is safe (or fully-clothed) in The Spine of Night’s raw, ultra-violent and cynical world. Conjured over the last seven years, directors Philip Gelatt and Morgan Galen King’s rotoscoped epic recaptures the dazzling imagination and scope of their influences Ralph Bakshi and Heavy Metal. Approaching an anthology-style structure to explore how ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely’—a proverb more potent now than when Gelatt and King began their project—the film packs a franchise’s worth of ideas in its 90-minute runtime. Though the storytelling justifiably proves itself overly dense for some, it will find the audience it’s after, as other Letterboxd members have declared it “a rare treat” and “a breath of fresh air in the feature-length animation scene”. For sure, The Spine of Night can join Sundance premieres Flee and Cryptozoo in what’s already a compelling year for unique two-dimensional animation. —JM

Kambole Campbell caught up with Gelatt and King (who are also Letterboxd members!) during SXSW to talk about animation inspirations and rotoscoping techniques.

The Drover’s Wife: The Legend of Molly Johnson Written and directed by Leah Purcell

Snakes, steers and scoundrels beware! Writer-director-star Leah Purcell ably repurposes the Western genre for Aboriginal and female voices in The Drover’s Wife. Molly Johnson is a crack-shot anti-heroine for the ages, in this decolonized reimagining of a classic 1892 short story by Henry Lawson. And by reimagining, we mean a seismic shift in the narrative: Purcell has fleshed out a full story of a mother-of-four, pregnant with her fifth, a missing husband, predatory neighbors, a mysterious runaway and a young English couple on different paths to progress in this remote Southern land. Purcell first adapted this story for the stage, then as published fiction; she rightly takes the leading role in the screen version, too.

As a debut feature director, Purcell (Goa-Gunggari-Wakka Wakka Murri) already has a firm grip on the macabre and the menacing, not shying away from violence, but making very careful decisions about what needs to be depicted, given all that Molly Johnson and her family are subjected to. She also sneaks in mystic touches, and a hint of romance (local heartthrob Rob Collins can take us on a walk to where the Snowy widens to see blooming wildflowers anytime). Judging by early Letterboxd reviews, it’s not for everyone, but this is Australian colonization through an Indigenous feminist’s eyes, with a fierce, intersectional pay-off. “Extremely similar to a vast majority of the issues and themes explored in The Nightingale,” writes Claira. “I’m slowly realizing that my favorite type of Westerns are Australian.” —LK, GG

Swan Song Written and directed by Todd Stephens

Udo Kier is often the bridesmaid, rarely the bride. Now, after a lifetime of supporting roles ranging from vampires and villains to art-house muse, he finally gets to shine center-stage in Swan Song. Kier dazzles as a coiffure soothsayer in this lyrical pageant to the passage of queer times in backwater Sandusky, Ohio. “He is absolutely wonderful here,” writes Adrianna, “digging deep and pulling out a mesmerizing, deeply affecting and emotionally textured performance, proving that he’s an actor with much more range than people give him credit for.”

A strong supporting cast all have melancholy moments to shine, with Linda Evans (Dynasty), Michael Urie (Ugly Betty) and Jennifer Coolidge (Legally Blonde) along for the stroll. Surreal camp touches add joy (that chandelier, the needle drop!) but by the end, the tears roll (both of joy and sadness). Writer-director Todd Stephens ties up his Sandusky trilogy in this hometown homage, a career peak for both him and Kier. Robert Daniels puts it well, writing that Swan Song is “campy as hell, but it’s also a heartfelt LGBTQ story about lost lovers and friends, vibrant memories and the final passage of a colorful life.” —LK

Leo Koziol spoke with Todd Stephens and Udo Kier during SXSW about Grace Jones, David Bowie and dancing with yourself.

Islands Written and directed by Martin Edralin

Islands is a Mike Leigh-esque story that presents a Canadian Filipino immigrant family full of quirk and character, centered around Joshua, a reticent 50-year-old homebody son. The story drifts in and out of a deep well of sadness. Moments of lightness and familial love make the journey worthwhile. “A film so Filipino a main plot device is line-dancing,” writes Karl. “Islands is an incredibly empathetic film about what it’s like to feel unmoored from comfort. It’s distinctly Filipino and deals with the psychology of Asian culture in a way that feels both profound and oddly comforting.” In a year in which we’ve all been forced to physically slow down, Islands “shows us how slow life can be,” writes Justin, “and how important it is to be okay with that.” Rogelio Balagtas’s performance as Joshua—a first-time leading role—won him the SXSW Grand Jury Award for Breakthrough Performance. —LK

Ninjababy Directed by Yngvild Sve Flikke, written by Flikke with Johan Fasting and Inga H. Sætre

Ninjababy is as ridiculous as its title. When 23-year-old Rakel finds herself accidentally pregnant, scheduling an abortion is a no-brainer. But she’s way too far along, she’s informed, so she’s going to have to have the baby. The ensuing meltdown might have been heartbreaking if the film wasn’t so damn funny. Ninjababy draws on the comforting and familiar (“Lizzie McGuire if she was a pregnant young adult,” writes Nick), while mixing shock with originality (Erica Richards notices “a few aggressive and vulgar moments [but] somehow none of it seemed misplaced”).

An animated fetus in the style of Rakel’s own drawings appears to beg and shame Rakel into motherhood while she fights to hold onto her confidence that not wanting to be a mother doesn’t make her a bad person. Ninjababy’s greatest feat is its willingness to delve into that complication: yes, it’s righteous and feminist and 21st-century to claim your own body and life, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to turn away from something growing inside of you. It’s a comedy about shame, art, finding care in unlikely places—and there’s something in it for the gents, too. The titular ninjababy wouldn’t leave Rakel alone, and it’s unlikely to leave you either. Winner of the SXSW Global Audience Award. —SH

The Fallout Written and directed by Megan Park

Canadian actress Megan Park brought the youthful wisdom of her days on the teen drama series The Secret Life of the American Teenager to her first project behind the camera, and it paid off. Following the scattered after-effects of a school shooting, The Fallout may be the most acute, empathetic depiction of childhood trauma on screen in recent memory. “It sneaks up on you with its honesty and how it spends time with its lead, carried so beautifully by Jenna Ortega. Even the more conventional moments are poignant because of context,” writes Kevin L. Lee. Much of that “sneaky” honesty emerges as humor—despite the heavy premise, moments of hilarity hang on the edges of almost every scene. And Ortega’s portrayal of sweet-but-angsty Vada brings self-awareness to that humor, like when Vada’s avoidant, inappropriate jokes with her therapist reveal her desperation, but they garner genuine laughs nonetheless.

In this debut, Park shows an unmatched understanding of non-linear ways that young people process their pain. Sometimes kids try drugs! Sometimes they scream at their parents! But more often than not, they really do know what they want, who loves them, and how much time they need to grieve (see also: Jessie Barr’s Sophie Jones, starring her cousin Jessica Barr, out now on VOD and in theaters). The Fallout forsakes melodrama to embrace confusion, ambiguity and joy. Winner of both the SXSW Grand Jury and Audience Narrative Feature Awards, and the Brightcove Illumination Award. —SH

Ludi Directed by Edson Jean, written by Jean and Joshua Jean-Baptiste

When Ludi begins, it’s quiet and dreamy. The film’s opening moments conjure the simple pleasures of the titular character’s Haitian heritage: the music, the colors, the people. Ludi (Shein Monpremier) smiles to herself as she starts her morning with a tape recording her cousin mailed from Haiti to Miami, and listens as her family members laugh through their troubles before recording an upbeat tape of her own. But that’s where the dreaminess ends—Ludi is an overworked, underpaid nurse picking up every shift she possibly can in order to send money home. Writer-director Edson Jean fixates on the pains and consequences of Ludi’s relentless determination, which comes to a head when she moonlights as a private nurse for an old man who doesn’t want her there.

Ashton Kinley notes how the film “doesn’t overly dramatize or pull at false emotional strings to make its weight felt. The second half of the feature really allows all of that to shine, as the film becomes a tender and empathetic two-hander.” George’s (Alan Myles Heyman) resentment of his own aging body steps in as Ludi’s antagonist. Jean throws together jarring contrasts: George throwing Ludi out of the bathroom, followed by Ludi’s memories of home, followed by another lashing out, followed by a shared prayer. The tension is unsustainable. By interspersing the back-breaking predicament of a working-class immigrant with the sights and sounds of the Caribbean, Ludi elegantly, painfully reveals what the cost of a dream can be. —SH

Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror Written and directed by Kier-La Janisse

Building on the folk horror resurgence of films like The Witch and Midsommar, Kier-La Janisse’s 193-minute documentary Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched is a colossal, staggering undertaking that should school even the most seasoned of horror buffs. “Thorough is an understatement,” says Claira.

Combining a historian’s studied, holistic patience with a cinephile’s rabid, insatiable thirst, the film, through the course of six chapters, broadens textbook British definitions, draws trenchant socio-political and thematic connections, debunks myths and transports viewers to far-flung parts of the globe in a way that almost feels anthropological. As Jordan writes, “Three hours later and my mind is racing between philosophical questions about the state of hauntology we generationally entrap ourselves in, wanting to buy every single one of the 100+ films referenced here, and being just a bit in awe of Janisse’s truly breathless work.” An encyclopedic forest worth losing yourself in—get ready for those watchlists to balloon. Winner of the SXSW Midnighters Audience Award. —AY

Introducing, Selma Blair Directed by Rachel Fleit

There’ll likely be some level of hype when this intimate collaboration between actress Selma Blair and filmmaker Rachel Fleit comes out later in the year on Discovery+, and that’s okay, because that is Blair’s intention in sharing the details of her stem-cell transplant for multiple sclerosis. There’d be little point in going there if you are not prepared to really go there, and Introducing, Selma Blair is a tics-and-all journey not just into what life is like with a chronic condition, a young son, and a career that relies on one’s ability to keep a straight face. It’s also an examination of the scar tissue of childhood, the things we are told by our parents, the ideas we come to believe about ourselves. “I almost felt like I shouldn’t have such intimate access to some of the footage in this documentary,” writes Andy Yen. “Bravo to Selma for allowing the filmmakers to show some truly raw and soul-bearing videos about her battle with multiple sclerosis that make us feel as if we are as close to her as family.” —GG

Femme Directed by Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping

I May Destroy You fans, rejoice: Paapa Essiedu, who played Arabella’s fascinating best friend Kwame, takes center stage in Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping’s intoxicating short film Femme. It’s a simple premise—Jordan, a femme gay man, follows his drug dealer (Harris Dickinson, mastering the sexually repressed brusque young man like no one else) home to pick up some goods on a night out. Except, of course, it’s not that simple. The co-directors build a world of danger, tension and electricity, with lusciously lensed scenes that lose focus as the threat rises. Frankie calls it “hypnotizing and brutal and gorgeous” and we couldn’t agree more. A crime thriller wrestling with hyper-masculinity seen through the eyes of an LGBTQ+ character, with a sucker-punch ending to boot, the world needs more than twenty minutes of this story. —EK

Play It Safe Directed by Mitch Kalisa

If you (unwisely) thought that the vulnerable, progressive environment of drama school would be a safe space for Black students, Play It Safe confirms that even a liberal bunch of actors (and their teacher) are capable of being blind to their own egregiously racist microagressions. Mitch Kalisa’s excellent short film explores structural prejudice head-on, in an electric acting exercise that rests on where the kinetic, gritty 16mm camera is pointing at every pivotal turn. At first, we’re with Black drama student Jonathan Ajayi as he receives the assignment; then we are with the rest of the class, exactly where we need to be. “Literally in your face and absolutely breathtaking,” writes Nia. A deserving winner of the SXSW Grand Jury and Audience narrative shorts prizes. —GG

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