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rfsak2 · 1 year

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Spitfire, Part 5

This is another long post. Part of me thinks they will continue to get longer as the seasons get more complicated. I’m excited though because after Season 4, Alexandria/Negan are prime Daryl.

Let me know what you think!

Spitfire, Pt. 5

Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC

Warnings: violence, emotions, injuries, character death/characters feared dead, smut under the cut

Part 4

She perched on Daryl’s lap, settling against his chest, then crossed her legs, almost demurely, between his spread legs. She looked up, catching Glenn’s exasperated glance.

Daryl snuck his arm around her waist, big hand falling on the outside of her thigh.

She shrugged. “What?”

Hershel hid a smile. “This is a council meeting.”

She nodded. “There are no more chairs.”

They all turned to see the stack of chairs in one corner of the library.

She waved dismissively. “There are no more chairs over here. I’m lazy.”

She felt more than heard Daryl’s chuckle. She glanced back at him and he didn’t meet her eye. A second later he felt his finger tracing the outside seam of her jeans… then the inside seam.

She pinched the inside of his other thigh, watching out of the corner of her eye as he bit at his lip.

Maggie snickered. “Alright, then.”

Hershel nodded. “Let's start with the back side of the prison. Walkers have been wandering in again. One got into the tombs.”

Sasha sat forward. “We can try to lure them away. Set up a boombox a half mile out. Mitzi and I can take down any too stuck to get out.”

Carol nodded. “We need something more permanent. The old torn-down walls help keep some out but they clearly aren’t secure enough.”

Daryl hummed. “Found an old excavator. If we can find diesel n’someone to drive it, we can probably clear it pretty easy. Find a way to replace the fence.”

Maggie spoke up. “I can drive it.”

Mitzi made a note on a little sheet of paper. “So: diesel and fencing. We can probably get most of that from the same construction site where the excavator is. We’ll just need to clear it. There were about twenty walkers in there last time we rode by.”

“I’ll gather some people up.” Glenn nodded to Sasha and Mitzi. “Between the two of you, we should be able to clear it pretty quickly.”

They all agreed and the conversation moved to another topic. Daryl pointed at her notepad, his free hand drawing a nonsensical design that arched closer and closer to her inner thigh. “What’s this word?”

“‘Escavater’.” She scribbled something, hiding her pad, and showed it to him. Frisky?

He chuckled. “That’s not how it’s spelled.” He nabbed her pen and scratched it out, spelling it correctly and adding: you know what you did.

Laughing, she grabbed it back, pretending to scratch out the misspelled word. “I was in the Army, not the Air Force. What d’ya expect?” Don’t know what you’re talking about at all.

Bending over my bike like a fucking porn star.

Who me?

I’m gonna fu-

“Mitzi?”

She hummed, trying not to startle, like she had been caught doing exactly what they had been doing. She looked up.

Hershel grinned back. “Do I need to separate you?”

“No, sir.” She shook her head, almost childishly. “Can’t spell. Daryl was helpin’ me. What was the question?”

He chuckled. “Ammo?”

“We did pretty good when we scavenged at that pop-up army tent-camp last month.” She shrugged. “As always, we need to keep our eye on it and keep a look out for more munitions but we’re pretty stocked.”

Daryl’s hand on her thigh pulled her ass tight to his crotch. She pinched him again, higher. He captured her hand and held it to his thigh, knowing that her crossed legs hid his lower half almost completely.

Glenn sat forward. “Do you think we have enough to start teaching and target practice up again?”

“Yeah, probably, but.” She considered that, trying to keep her voice level. “We need to see how bad the old training ground has gotten. D spotted a herd heading that way last month.”

Daryl nodded, rubbing his bristly chin over her exposed upper arm. “We can swing by on our next run n’see.”

“What about hand-to-hand? Can we start working on that?”

“Sure.” She shrugged, pulling her hand back from his thigh from where he had been inching it up. “Anytime. I think people are just a little nervous because of the rumors that’ve been runnin’ ‘round.”

Maggie giggled and Mitzi was briefly anxious that Maggie knew what was happening across the table. “Is it a rumor if it’s true? You did beat that guy up a couple of weeks ago.”

Daryl grunted, grumbling under his breath. “Less than he deserved.”

Mitzi made a face and folded her hands primly in front of her, partially to get them away from Daryl. “Y’all didn’t see Daryl go for his knife. I saved him from being knife throwing practice. Besides, he was fine. He just had a black eye-”

Glenn hung his head, smiling despite trying to stay serious. “And a broken wrist?”

She shook her head. “That was an accident. Scared me poppin’ up behind me like that.”

“You'll start tomorrow, then. If that’s okay?”

Mitzi saluted.

She smiled as she laid her cheek against his chest, sweaty and satisfied.

Daryl wrapped a red spiral around his finger, rubbing his thumb over it gently.

Busying herself with idly drawing patterns over his chest, she lightly scratched at his nipple. She giggled when he captured her hand and lifted it to his mouth and Daryl bit lightly into the meat of her palm.

“Gonna start teaching hand-to-hand t’morrow, yeah?”

She nodded against his chest, yawning. “Are you cool with being my Vanna White?”

He snorted. “What d’ya need help with?”

“Demonstration.” She turned more on her stomach so she could prop her chin up on his chest. “Put me in a chokehold-“

He started shaking his head and she trailed off. “What’s wrong?”

“Ain’t puttin’ my hands on ya like that, no way.”

Her head tilted in confusion. “Baby, that wouldn’t be the context.”

He grunted. “I know that, but I ain’t doin’ it.”

She nodded, pressing closer so she could lay her cheek against his. “Ok.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll ask Glenn.”

He breathed deep, trying to relax the sudden rigidity in his muscles. “My father beat the shit outta me n’my mom. And I know your dad n’grandpa beat ya. I ain’t doin’ it or nothing close to it.”

She smiled against his neck. “I have never, ever thought you’d raise a hand t’me. It didn’t even cross my mind that those two things would be- or feel -the same for you. If it had, I wouldn’t ‘ve asked you, D.”

He nodded affirmatively. “I’ll be there to help ya, but I ain’t putting my hands around your neck or pretending to hurt you no how.”

They quieted and she settled back, tracing designs in his chest. “Y’know, you are the only person I ever dated, even before the military, that treats me the way y’do.”

He calmed. “How d’ya mean?”

“Like I’m glass… not fragile necessarily, but valuable.”

He nodded, running his fingers up and down her side. “How’d they treat ya?”

She shrugged. “Not always bad necessarily… just rough, I guess they were always aware that I could handle rougher treatment. Never really had anyone protect me or think twice about how they treated me. I don’t know. Didn’t date that much anyways so I guess I didn’t really think about it. But there’s always been a noticeable difference between you n’ them anyways.”

Daryl breathed deeply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I know you can handle it… me being rougher with you, doing the shit you do- are asked t’do.”

She smiled. “You know that is literally what I would have done if this shit never happened right? If we had met before the turn.”

“True, I guess.”

She sighed. “I don’t think you would’ve wanted t’be with me, to be honest. I was gone all the time, in foreign locales I couldn’t tell you about, doing things and killing people I couldn't tell you about. I was… broken by alotta it and pretty cold by the end. As much I’d wanna fuck you, I probably wouldn’t ‘ve been very nice.”

“You were never broken. I don’t believe that.” He shook his head. “Besides… Would’ve still wanted ya.”

She stared up at him with a soft smile. “You would’ve been the only one, I didn’t even want myself most days.” She pressed a kiss to his nose. “On the bright side, with my salary and all the extras, you coulda just stayed home and been my house-husband. Do whatever you wanted to do, customize bikes, hunt, fish, learn how to surf, whatever.”

“House-husband?” He rolled his eyes, pulling her over him so she laid against him. “Wouldn’t ‘ve just let you work and sit around doin’ nothin’.”

“No, you wouldn’t ‘ve.” She conceded. “You don’t have a lazy bone in your body. But you wouldn’t have had to do something you weren’t interested in just to earn a living and I woulda liked to be able to give you that. Woulda made it more worth it.”

He made a face like he was considering it. “Made money, then?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I made money. Between base pay, base-approved housing, hazard pay, the occasional special demonstration or competition, I socked away money like no one’s business.” She grinned up at him. “You woulda been a well-kept man.”

He snorted. “Some trophy husband.”

She pinched his side. “You vastly underestimate how attractive you are. I woulda had to beat off the other officer’s wives.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable, and she let the conversation go.

He sighed after a minute. “I wouldn’t ‘ve liked it then, anymore than I like it now. Money or no.”

“Gotta do somethin’.” She shrugged. “This just happens to be what I’m good at.”

He nodded. “I know you’re trained to do these things, that you’re good at ‘em, that you are tough as nails, but I don’t want you to hafta, to hafta be. Like that’s all you’re good for.”

“I don’t.” She thumbed at his bottom lip. “If it was all I was good for, who’d keep you in clean clothes?”

He groaned. “I can do it, I just forget.”

“I know, baby.” She leaned up to kiss him. “I don’t mind doin’ the laundry. If I did, there’d be nothin’ you could do t‘make me.”

She settled back against his chest and was dozing off when he spoke. “Love ya.”

She smiled. “Love ya too.”

“Alright. Let’s get started.” Mitzi smiled, hands on her hips. “For most of you, this is gonna just be basic self-defense, how to keep a walker off of you long enough to pull a knife, how to break a headlock or a chokehold, that kinda stuff.”

Glenn grinned from where he stood in the small crowd that had gathered around her and raised his hand. “So you’re not going to be teaching me to kill someone with a spoon?”

She laughed. “Not t’day. That’s a special lesson.”

Zach raised his hand. “So you can, though?”

“Can what?”

“Kill someone with a spoon?” Zach grinned at Glenn

She shrugged. “You can kill someone with anythin’ if y’try hard enough.”

Zach watched her with a comically suspicious face. “Exactly what I’d expect a… internationally renowned martial artist to say.”

Mitzi frowned, head tilting in confusion. “What?”

“That's what you did before the turn. You were a martial artist.”

She snorted and glanced back at Daryl. “Y’know, Glenn knows what I did before the turn.”

“I told him not to tell me. I want to guess.”

“A’ight.” Mitzi shrugged. “You do you.”

“Back on topic.” Glenn nodded. “I want to start by learning to kill someone with a spoon.”

“She said later.” Daryl groused from where he sat on the low wall to the newly erected cooking pavilion. “Can’t be wastin’ spoons neither.”

“Killjoy.” Glenn discretely flicked off Daryl.

Daryl rushed Glenn, grabbing him around the neck and rubbing at his scalp with his knuckles. “What you call me, punk?”

Mitzi giggled and walked over to them. “A’ight. This isn’t likely to be the way a walker would grab you but it’s as good a place as any to start.”

“Mitzi, make him let me go.” Glenn whined. The small group laughed.

“Not yet, Glenn. We’re learning. Also, play shit games, win shit prizes.” She ruffled his hair, before turning back to the group. “How d’ya think you’d get out?”

Her students offered a couple solutions, like clawing at his arm or head-butting.

Mitzi nodded. “Good answers but wrong answers. Daryl has Glenn’s head down already so head-butting is not an option. Also, don’t go head-butting walkers, not advisable. Scratching or clawing takes too long to be effective. They can just knock you out.”

She moved to stand on Glenn's side. “Your best bet is to prevent the headlock in the first place. We'll talk about what t’do if you can’t next.”

She tapped Daryl’s arm and he let Glenn go. Turning to Glenn, she smiled. “Did you do any taekwondo as a kid?”

He nodded, watching her warily as Daryl moved back.

“Okay, try to get me in the same headlock.”

Glenn sucked in a deep breath and sunk into a fight stance that was solid but not practiced. He lurched forward and hooked his arm over Mitzi’s neck.

Before he could hook his other hand around his wrist, she stepped into him, locking her hips and caging him in with her arms. She locked her hands around his free arm and pulled him back over the leg she had braced up against the back of his leg.

Glenn fell back with a soft oof, Mitzi keeping hold of his abdomen to prevent him from hitting the concrete. He got his legs back under him and moved away.

Mitzi patted him on the shoulder. “Our instinct in this situation is to move away, but our attacker is generally in a better position to take advantage of any space we make. Instead, move in, lock your hips and keep their other arm away, hook your hand around the back of their arm, push at their shoulder with your other hand, hell- just wrap your arms around their upper arms and hug ‘em hard. Anything you can do to keep your head up and their other arm outta the way, do it.

“Once you accomplish that, there’s a couple ways to throw them or knock them off balance so you can get away. We won’t practice those on concrete though.” She looked out over the field. “Probably do that another day over there by the farm. Gotta talk t’Rick ‘ bout that.”

She motioned Glenn forward. “Let’s try again.”

Glenn was faster this time but Mitzi snuck her hand under her chin and grabbed the inside of his wrist. She pushed his arm out and pulled her head from the loop of his arms. She set her free hand on his shoulder and pushed him away lightly.

“This time, I got my hand in there quick, preventing him from getting a tight lock on my neck. From there just push away and run. You’re behind them, so it should be easier to get away, if you think and act fast.”

Mitzi smiled and turned to Daryl. “Now, Glenn is technically taller than me.”

“Technically?” Glenn gasped comically. “I’m like half a foot taller than you!”

She laughed. “Glenn is taller than me and fast, but D is even taller and bigger.” She glanced at Glenn, who was indignant. “Objectively, that is true.”

Glenn shrugged dismissively.

“Daryl is taller and his arms are long. So while Glenn’s speed works in his favor, Daryl doesn’t need to be fast. He can get his hands or arms around me without me being able to reach him.” She turned to Daryl. “Baby?”

Daryl made a face, and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Ain’t sure ‘bout this.”

She smiled. “You don’t have to hurt me, D. Just put your hands on my shoulders.”

Daryl sighed and set his hands on her shoulders. Mitzi held her arms up and her fingers just brushed against his chest.

“See?” She flapped her hands ineffectually. “In this case, I need to be close.” She stepped in, Daryl adjusting to keep his hands on her shoulders. “If someone taller than you attempts a front chokehold, especially with the intent of choking you, they are gonna lock their elbows so they can press down.”

She brought up her forearms in between his arms in an ‘x’ shape. “You wanna break that elbow lock. So, forearms up in an x and then.” She brought her forearms out more gently than she would in an actual fight. Daryl stepped back, soft smile on his face. “Out and down, to push his arms away.”

“Baby.” She smiled and crooked her finger at him. “You doin’ anythin’ right now?”

He sauntered closer to her, eyes trailing over the curves and swells she was displaying for him. “Like what?”

“Like anythin’ that would prevent me from pulling you in here and havin’ my way with you.” She set her hip against the door frame, holding the door open with her foot and watching him with heated eyes.

He smirked, almost instinctively pulling his shoulders back, letting her look her fill. “Don't know anythin’ that could prevent that.” He leaned over her, pulling the door closed behind him as he used his body to move her further back into the guard tower.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, hot and open-mouthed. Pulling away, she smiled against his mouth. “That’s a good answer.”

He hiked up her shirt enough to get his hands on the skin of her side, squeezing gently at the softness he found there. “S’the truth.”

She slipped her tongue into his mouth and pressed tight against him. “Y’look good today, baby.”

He chuckled into her mouth. “I look the same as I always do.”

“True.” She slipped one hand down into the open neck of his button-up. “You look good everyday.” The same hand dropped down and teased at his length through his jeans. She kissed him again, moaning into his mouth. “So good.”

He groaned into her mouth. “Want’ya naked by the time you’re up those stairs.”

“Uh-huh.” She lifted her hands to his face and took control of the kiss as one of his hands dropped to her ass. She pulled away and pressed him back towards the door. “I’m in charge here, bud. You followin’ my rules today.”

He scoffed, using his grip on her ass to pull her tight into his body. “You gonna hafta make me.”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged.” She started to unbutton his shirt, before latching on to his neck.

He groaned and cupped her breast with his free hand, his other still preoccupied with squeezing her ass. Almost bending her backward, he nibbled at her collarbone through her shirt collar.

“Pretty, little thing.”

She giggled. “Your pretty, little thing.”

He caught her eyes and grinned, all teeth. The hand on her tit dropped to her ass and he grunted as he lifted her and turned to press her against the door. Worrying his teeth over her jaw, he nodded. “That’s right.”

She moaned and arched into him. Humming, he leaned in to kiss her again. Feeling her smile against his mouth, he groaned when she pushed back against him and took control of the kiss.

She bit at his lips. “And you’re my pretty boy, yeah?”

His brain froze, a sudden hot pulse shooting up his spine. She grinned, nibbling at his chin, and held his eyes. His jaw dropped and he grunted, rutting his hips against hers. “Shit!”

He leaned in to kiss her and she tutted, pulling back ever so slightly.

She bit his chin. “Are you?”

He found himself nodding before his brain could process the shift in mood. Pressing his dick up against her, he groaned loud and long.

She pulled back, head tilted cheekily. “So what I want is you naked by the time you reach the bed.”

He tongued at his lip, smirk still firm on his face. “Told ya, you’re gonna hafta make me.”

Hands in his hair, she tilted his head back and ran her tongue over his Adam’s Apple. She moaned against him. “Dontcha wanna fuck me, baby?” She pouted down at him.

He nodded and she tilted his head to the side, biting into where his neck met his shoulder. He groaned. “Fuck, do I, woman.”

She grinned. “Then why don’t ya take your clothes off and get your ass upstairs?”

He leaned into her, pecking at her lips softly. “Why don’t you?”

She huffed, frustration building to match his.

“No pouting.” He tugged at her lip with his thumb. “How ‘bout a compromise? Botha us.”

She nodded and he set her on her feet, pecking her nose. “Race ya.”

She won but only because he purposely let her in front of him, pinching at her ass and reaching around to knead at her breasts and rut against her ass as she tossed her t-shirt over the railing to the ground below.

He pulled her into a kiss as they cleared the stairs into the guard shack proper. She turned him, pushing him toward the mattress Glenn had brought up here some months ago. He fell back onto the bed, grunting, and pulled her down into his lap.

She set her hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently. He didn’t budge, leaning in to suck her nipple into his mouth. She gasped, arching into him despite her best attempt to maintain control. “Fuck, D.”

He nipped at her nipple gently and pulled her tighter into him, grinding his crotch up against hers. She sucked in a breath as she carded her fingers through his hair, arching into him. He directed her hips to roll against him, moaning into her breast as she found the rhythm he liked.

“Pretty baby.” He thrusted his hips against her roughly.

She threw her head back and sighed, hips rolling against hers as he moved to suck a hickey into the skin above her nipple.

“So little, so pretty sitting on m’cock like that.”

She set her jaw and forced herself to look down at him. He grinned, biting at the skin of her other breast.

She threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his head and pulled his head back. Leaning over him, she pressed her forehead against his and stared into his eyes as she ground down on him.

As he groaned, she moved to lick his earlobe into her mouth, tugging gently. He hissed, meeting her grinding thrust for grinding thrust.

She moaned, whispering hotly in his ear. “So handsome, baby. Take such good care of me.”

His hips jumped and he grunted loud in her ear. He crossed his arms over her back and grasped at her shoulders, using the leverage to pull her harder down onto him.

“Put me in ya.”

She smirked against his jaw. “Maybe I ain’t ready yet.”

“Wetter than fuck, baby.” He grunted and moved a hand down to shove two fingers into her roughly. She moaned and he smiled through a tight jaw. “You ready.”

She nodded as if it was a question and he removed his fingers, lining the head of his cock with her core. He caught her eyes and held them as he entered her in a single rough thrust.

Once seated deep in her, he tapped his fingertips against her bottom lip and she smiled, taking fingers still wet with her into her mouth. He grunted, eyes locked onto her mouth as he thrust up into her.

As he watched, distracted, she shoved his shoulders back gently. He fell back against the mattress, hands falling to maintain control of the movement of her hips. He pushed and pulled, guiding her in a rolling motion.

“C’mon, girl.” He smirked up at her. “You supposed t’be in charge and y’have me doin’ all the work.”

She took his hands from her hips and tangled her fingers with his. Moaning, she planted his elbows in the mattress and leveraged herself against him.

After a moment, she leaned forward to pin his hands by his ears, changing the angle and rubbing her clit furtively against his pubic bone.

Moaning, she shot him a lopsided smile and leaned forward to favor him with a wet kiss.

His hips jerked up against hers, hitting something in her that whited out her vision. She gasped. “Fuck, Fuck.”

He grinned cockily and pulled one of his hands free, digging his hand into her hair. “Yeah, baby? Already?”

He used the hand still tangled with hers to pull her forward against him. He secured her wrist in the small of her back and thrust up into her.

He panted in her ear, massaging at the back of her head. “Fit me like a fuckin’ glove don’t’ya, Spitfire?” He pulled her tighter to him and he ground his hips up into her, putting exquisite pressure on her clit. “C’mon, baby.”

She gasped and felt her body pull in tight, cunt clenching hard around him as she all but screamed into his neck.

Grinning, he turned them, setting her calves up on his shoulder and nearly folding her in half so he could press his face to hers, forehead tight to her temple. He groaned as he pressed himself into her again.

“Fuck ya like you’re mine.” He hissed, his own high fast approaching. “Cause y’are, right? You’re mine.”

She nodded, one hand digging into the meat of his ass the other clawing at his back.

“Say it.”

She sucked in a breath and choked out: “Fuck yes! All yours.”

He made an unholy sound deep in his chest and leaned back, her thighs still tight to his chest, snapping his hips hard against her.

One hand keeping her legs balanced on his shoulder, he reached down and captured a heaving nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. Grinning down at her, he pinched lightly and tugged.

“Gonna cum again, little girl?”

She hissed, head falling back and neck arching against another sudden wave of tightness and wetness. “Fuck, I might.”

He shook his head and switched one leg to his other shoulder. Sucking his thumb into his mouth, he thrummed at her clit with his thumb. “Nah, y’are.”

He leaned over her as she nodded, pressing her legs back against her chest. He kissed her open, gasping mouth. “Gimme another, pretty baby.”

She moaned, lifting her hands to his face to keep his mouth against hers. his free hand lifted to cup and squeeze at her breast.

“Fuck, Daryl. Baby.” She clawed at his thigh and arched hard.

He nodded, sealing his mouth to hers. “Gimme it.”

She seized up quick, mouth dropping open silently and core clenching at him hard enough to take him with her. He groaned her name, hips spluttering against hers.

He kept himself propped up on his hands and focused on breathing through the heat still in his veins.

Grunting quietly, he pulled out with a groan, kissing her calf before softly letting them fall to the bed. He leaned over to kiss her again, caging her between his biceps.

He smiled softly at her as she hooked her hand around his bicep. He kissed her again. “Pretty baby.”

She smiled back. “Pretty boy.”

He rolled his eyes and laid his head against her chest. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, scratching lightly at his scalp.

There was a pounding at the trapdoor and they both jumped, Daryl pushing himself up and in front of her.

“Are you done?” Glenn’s voice was thick with irritation.

The door lifted just the barest amount, Maggie pushing their abandoned clothes across the floor at them, her eyes considerably more amused than her husband’s.

Daryl sighed, relaxing almost immediately. He kicked at the door. “We ain’t.”

The door fell shut and Mitzi started laughing, head thrown back against the mattress. Through the open windows, they heard the door to the tower open and close.

Mitzi smiled and leaned over the grill, chatting with Carol as she picked at a piece of fruit.

“You can always come and help me?” Carol smiled with an edge of gentle teasing. “Learn how to cook.”

Mitzi shivered for dramatic effect. “Tried once. Gave myself food poisoning.”

Carol giggled, smiling at Daryl as he came up behind Mitzi and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Hey, Daryl.” She turned back to Mitzi. “What were you cooking?”

“Grilled cheese.”

Carol laughed outright and Mitzi’s smile brightened. “You gave yourself food poisoning with grilled cheese?”

She looked over and snickered when Daryl started chuckling. “Didn’t store any of it right according to the doctor.” She shrugged. “Even after my aunt took me in, I was never home to be taught any of this stuff. Either off doing shit I shouldn’t or practicing, competing when she got me into shooting.”

Carol nodded, eyes soft on her. Daryl leaned into her and Mitzi waved them off. “It’s good. I ain’t worried about it.”

“Mrs. Dixon?”

She jumped, turning over her shoulder and catching Daryl’s eyes.

He shrugged. “Ain’t talking to me.”

She blinked before turning to the man. “Excuse me?”

The man, a Woodbury resident named Alex, looked nervous, glancing at Daryl. “I’m sorry… I thought you were married…?”

She glanced at Daryl, who was watching her with a small smug smile. He arched an eyebrow, almost challenging her.

She grinned. “We are.”

A hush fell over the eating pavilion.

“O-okay…”

“But if you’re gonna be formal, I insist on using my rank as well. That’s Captain Dixon to you.” She shot Daryl a shit-eating grin. “Just if we’re bein’ formal.”

Carol, who had until that moment been hiding a smile behind her hand, outright guffawed.

“Now what was the question?”

Alex looked panicked. “What? O-oh… uh. You mentioned taking people out to learn to shoot? I wanted to sign up.”

“Consider yourself on the list. I’m sorry, remind me of your name?”

“Alex.” He smiled brightly. “When’s the next lesson?”

“Alex.” She parroted back. “It’s tomorrow.”

“Thank you. ma’am.” He stuck his hand out and almost gleefully, she shook it.

“Welcome.”

He nodded, smiled and scurried off as she chuckled, watching him leave. “So fuckin’ proper. You think he knows he just officiated our wedding?”

Carol snorted.

Daryl bit at his lip, watching her with no small amount of pride and fondness. “You m’pretty, little wife now?”

She sidled up to him, standing nose-to-nose or as close as she could get with the height difference. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Prolly shoulda gone on our honeymoon, with as long as we been married.”

“Damn, you’re right. I should’ve booked those flights to Fiji.”

His shoulder shook with his laughter. “Prolly oughta learn to cook.”

“We both know you’re better at that. Besides, I do the laundry.” She pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.

“Guess that’s fair.” He leaned in for a deeper kiss.

Carol clapped. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Mitzi grinned and pressed her face into his chest. “Wish we had cake. That’s the only part of weddings that’s any good.”

Daryl chuckled and Carol shook her head, adding, “that is the most Mitzi statement I have ever heard.”

She shrugged. “Anyways, gotta go help clear that fence.”

“A’ight.” He patted her ass and nabbed the rest of the fruit she had been holding onto absently. “Be safe.”

She stepped back with a brilliant smile. “I married a fruit thief. That’s disappointing.”

“What’s yours is mine, wife.”

“Fair.” She grinned and waved over her shoulder as she made for the fence. “Love ya!”

Daryl grunted. “Say it to m’fuckin’ face.” He smiled and watched, biting into her Apple quietly, as she stopped short and turned on her heel.

She stepped even closer this time. Daryl straightened to his full height with a cocky smile. She pressed against him, rising up on her toes.

“Love you.”

He nodded and knocked her forehead with his. “Love ya.” He gestured towards the fence with his head. “Best go. ‘Fore Maggie comes lookin’ for ya.”

“I ain’t afraid of her.”

“Yeah, ya are. Now git.”

She turned and he slapped her ass, causing her to laugh and jump forward a step.

“I would like to remind you that there are children present.”

Daryl shrugged. “They’ll be alright.”

She folded a couple of the cleaner cots up and put them by the humvee closest to the grocery store door. Sasha placed some of the meager supplies, mostly basic first aid supplies or some trampled and flattened MREs, Tyreese following behind, holding his own handful of finds.

Mitzi nodded at Daryl, tapping soundlessly at the humvee. “Next time we’re here, I’ll bring some tools and maybe we can harvest some parts for the bus.”

“Not a lot leftover.” Daryl observed. “Musta been picked through.”

She set her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Remember when I said that the army wouldn’t take in civilians, just set ‘em up with the bare minimum?” She grinned at him and gestured grandly at the haul, meager though it was. “I told you so.”

“Y’always tell me so.” He leaned backwards to rap on the big plate glass window at the front of the store with his elbow. He glanced at Zach and Michonne. “Just give it a second.”

She grinned and sauntered over to him. “It’s my wife rights. I’m always right.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

Mitzi brushed her fingers over his thigh. “Gotta cut your hair when I get a chance. At least, the front. You’re not gonna be able to see here pretty soon.”

He nodded, ghosting his fingers over the back of her knee absently, eyes watching the hole in the chainlink.

“Okay, I think I got it.” Zach moved to sit on the ledge next to Daryl.

Michonne wandered closer. “Got what?”

Zach turned to her with a smile. “I’ve been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn.”

“He’s been tryin’ to guess for like six weeks.” Daryl groused.

“Yeah, I’m pacing myself. One shot a day.” He pointed at Mitzi. “I’m getting close to figuring her out too.”

“You don’t have to figure her out.” Michonne made a face. “Everyone knows what Mitzi did.”

Zach huffed. “I wanna figure it out though.”

Mitzi shrugged when Michonne looked at her, leaning up against Daryl’s side. “I told him the same thing, ‘Chonne.”

Daryl huffed lightly, before gesturing to Zach. “Alright, shoot.”

“Well, the way you are at the prison…you being on the council, you’re able to track, you’re helping people.” Zach smiled, seeming to hesitate. “But you’re still being… kind of surly.”

Daryl scoffed and glanced up at Mitzi, who was biting back a smile. “Don’t you start.”

Mitzi shook her head, holding her hands up. Daryl turned back to Zach.

“Big swing here, homicide cop.”

Michonne started laughing and Mitzi bit at her lip.

Daryl, unable to keep the small smile from his face, turned to Michonne. “What’s so funny?”

Michonne shook her head. “Nothing. It makes perfect sense.”

“Actually,” Daryl glanced up at Mitzi. “The man’s right. Undercover.”

Zach brightened, excited. “Come on. Really?”

Daryl nodded. “Yep. I mean I don't really like to talk about it ‘cause it was a lot of heavy shit, you know?”

“Dude, come on, really?”

Daryl shot him a look, clearing his throat, and Zach deflated.

“Okay, I’ll keep guessing, I guess.”

“Yeah, you keep doin’ that .”

A bare second later, a walker slammed his hands on the glass and Daryl stood, reaching for the bolt-cutters from Tyreese.

Michonne smiled at Mitzi as she followed Daryl and Zach to the door. “We’re gonna do this, detective?”

Daryl nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Mitzi shouldered her rifle, moving around Daryl to cover the door as they opened it. “Ooh… arrest me, Detective Dixon.”

He turned toward before cutting the chain, blushing. “Stop.”

Mitzi winked at him. “I have been known to say ‘fuck the police’ but I think I would’ve meant it different with you, D.”

He shook his head with a small smile. “Tighten up. Let’s go to work.”

“Hey, Mr. G.” Mitzi rapped on the wall before parting the curtain. “I’m doin’ a bullet count.” She stuck her head in and cussed.

The walker in the cell stood and lunged at her. She stepped back and pulled her knife. The walker advanced and she felt the railing behind her.

Shoving the body of Mr. Gordon, an elderly, former resident of Woodbury, she stabbed him in the temple as the walker lunged forward again.

The body slumped against her and she sighed, pushing him off of her. “Fuck, man.” She turned him over as respectfully as she could, inspecting the body.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone approach her. “Guess he died in his sleep. Maybe slipped. His face is all bloody.”

There was a snarl and she looked up in time to crab-walk out of the walker’s reach. She stood, pulling the little snub-nose she had taken to carrying in the prison. She fired once and breathed deep when the second walker’s body fell.

“Everyone needs to wake up now!” She hollered, rapping her gun against the railing to wake up the residents of the block. “Wake up and get your doors closed! If you’re already up, get back in your cells! Close the doors!” She looked down over the railing and fired at another resident of the cell block when he looked up at her, eyes clouded over and dead. “Everyone up now!”

A walker wandered out of a cell two down from her. She fired. The walker fell.

Two shots fired off to her left and she ducked instinctively. Looking over she saw Alex firing wildly at a walker. “C’mon, Alex. Take a deep breath and aim.”

Alex nodded, eyes still on the approaching walker, and aimed. The walker slumped. Alex looked up at her.

“Good. Be careful, the others are going to be coming in here soon and hot. Start trying to clear down there.”

True to prediction, Daryl, followed by Rick, Glenn and Sasha, rushed in.

She heard Daryl’s bow. “Mitzi!”

“I’m up here. I’m okay!” She moved to the far end of the block, toeing the cell doors closed as she went. “Help Alex.”

When she got to the last cell, she held up her pistol and used her hunting knife in her left hand to part the curtains. She sighed deep and fired.

“They wanted to go out together, same as they lived. That make them douchebags?”

Daryl’s eyes skipped down to her where she was stockpiling tools. “It does if they coulda gotten out.”

She smiled at Bob and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Daryl doesn’t consider suicide to be an option.”

“Nope.” Daryl shook his head, still inspecting the area around them with a flashlight.

Bob nodded his head. “But you do?”

“Not anymore…” Mitzi shrugged. “I have in the past.”

“You don’t gotta talk ‘bout it.” Daryl walked behind her, pressing a quick kiss to her head and grabbed a bottle of distilled water, glaring over at Bob.

“Why-” Bob cleared his throat, shying away from Daryl’s very direct stare. “Why was it an option?”

“It’s alright, D.” She smiled at Daryl before turning to consider Bob. “It wasn’t an option, not really, but I was hurting and couldn’t see past that pain.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was that pain?”

“Why you askin’?” Daryl sucked his tongue. “Her pain don’t make your point any more right.”

She stepped to his side and dropped a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m okay, baby.”

He grunted, rifling through a display to her other side. “Shouldn’t be drummin’ up your pain. It ain’t entertainment.”.

“I’m sorry… maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

She shrugged against Daryl’s side. “It’s good… I’m not ashamed of it anymore. I was nearing 400 kills. People treated it like an accomplishment.”

“Kills?” Bob frowned. “The way you hold your gun, I always assumed you were military.”

She caught sight of something on a nearby shelf and leaned down to nab a ratchet set from a shelf. “Yeah, I was a Ranger. A sniper.” She showed it triumphantly to Daryl and set it next to her small cache of tools.

“It makes sense why I had the strangest sense of deja vu when I met you.” Bob smiled. “I remember reading an article about you. Captain Mildred E. Donovan. You’re famous, the first female spec ops soldier in the US military.”

She winced. “Yeah, that’s me.”

His eyes softened. “So people treated you like a celebrity-“

“When I felt like a criminal.” She bobbed her head. “378 kills was the official number but that didn’t count people who had died as a direct result of my military service.” She shrugged. “So I tried to eat my gun… kill number 379.”

Bob nodded, eyes on Daryl who kept shooting him dirty looks. “What stopped you?”

She smiled softly. “My little brother. He asked his first girlfriend to a dance at school, wanted to tell me all about it. He had good timing.”

Bob patted her shoulder. “Glad you’re still here.”

She chuckled. “Me too.”

“C’mon.” Daryl rounded a corner and flashlight on a walker trapped under ceiling debris.

Mitzi shot Bob a wry smile and followed after Daryl with her collection.

Stopping to consider the walker and the photos of the family pins to a cork board on the wall, Bob sighed. He knelt to deal with the walker and looked up in time to watch Daryl and Mitzi.

Daryl had paused in the doorway in front of Mitzi, causing her to stop to avoid running into his back. He turned head-butted her gently, knocking his forehead against hers, eyes locked on hers. She smiled up at Daryl, nodding, and Bob felt a sudden ache in his chest.

She came to with a gasp that filled her mouth with dust. Lurching forward, she coughed and retched, clearing her throat of what felt like sandpaper with giant heaving coughs that felt like she was getting kicked in the side. “Fuck.”

She shuffled out from under the guard tower stairs and looked up, seeing smoldering metal and sky. She saw her rifle off to the side and reached for it.

“Fuckin’ shit!” She grabbed at her right shoulder with her left hand, noticing the odd angle the joint sat at.

Sighing, she leaned back and forced her shoulder to rotate back into the joint. It popped audibly and she groaned.

She grabbed her rifle with her left hand, holding the barrel between her knees to check the chamber. Finding a singular round, she moved to the makeshift armory she maintained in the guard tower.

She grunted, kicking debris out from in front of the cabinet. Opening it, she pulled out a gun bag and loaded it one handed. She stuffed a magazine of .50 caliber bullets into the back pocket of her jeans and inserted another magazine into her rifle, flicking the switch to turn the rifle over to automatic.

Shouldering the bag, she took a deep breath and lifted her rifle with her gun arm. She groaned past the pain, anchored the rifle against her shoulder and moved to the door, listening through the metal. Judging by the groaning on the other side, there were likely more than a few walkers outside the door.

Mind racing, she set her back against the door. She looked up the stairs and huffed, shrugging.

“Might as well.”

She climbed the stairs, stepping around twisted metal and concrete. When she reached the top, she pushed what remained of the trap door and boosted herself up onto the platform.

She looked around, surveying the destruction, the tank up in the main courtyard, the assembled dead, and tried to find a way down from the platform. She was calculating a jump from the platform to a more clear patch of lawn when she saw Daryl’s bike in its usual spot.

She froze, grief and shock suddenly catching up to her.

She looked down at the walkers collected around the tower. One seemed to catch her eyes and snarled up at her, raising hands caked in blood and mud.

What little fight had been keeping her upright seeped right out her feet. She was acutely aware of the pain in her side, her head, her shoulder, aware of how heavy and sluggish her body felt.

There was a strong likelihood that she wouldn’t survive this jump, anyways. Would it be so bad to just end it here?

She moved to set down her rifle when Daryl’s voice came to her unbidden, ringing in her head.

It ain’t an option.

She sucked in a deep breath, stepped back as far as she could and jumped.

“Why’d ya do that? I was havin’ fun.”

“No, you were being a jackass.” Beth pressed into his space. “If anyone found my dad or,” she paused, looking at him, “or Mitzi-”

“Don’t.” Daryl shook his head. “That ain’t remotely the same.”

“Killing them isn’t supposed to be fun.”

“What d’ya want from me, girl, huh?” Daryl snarled.

She didn’t back down, words still slurred but becoming clearer. “I want you to stop acting like you don’t give a crap about anything. Like nothing we went through matters. Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you.” Her body threw her forward like she was vomiting the words. “It’s bullshit!”

Daryl gaped at her, chest hard and tight and made more so by her words. “That what you think?”

“That’s what I know. You haven’t said a single one of their names since we got out.” Beth wiped at her face.

Daryl pressed forward, growling through the tightness in his chest. “You don’t know nuthin’.”

“I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. I’m not Michonne, I’m not Carol, I’m not Maggie.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m not Mitzi.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head, feeling tears prick at his eyes. “Don’t say her name again.”

“Mitzi. Mitzi Dixon.” Beth set her jaw. “I know it hurts, Daryl. I’ve survived, and she didn’t, and you don’t get it ‘cause I’m not like you or them. But I made it and you don’t get to treat me like crap just because you’re afraid.”

“I ain’t afraid of nuthin’.” He rasped.

Beth drew back, tears welling in her eyes. “I remember, when that little girl came out of the barn, after my mom. You coulda been like me. But you had Mitzi, then.” She gasped. “And now, God forbid you ever let anyone get too close.”

“Too close, huh? You know all about that. Lost two boyfriends and you can’t even shed a tear. Your whole family’s gone, all you can do is just go out lookin’ for hooch like some dumb college bitch.” He gestured vaguely at her, throwing his free hand in the air.

“Screw you. You may not be looking for a drink, but you’re avoiding Mitzi all the same.”

He let out a noise full of pain and anger. “Don’t say her name again. You don’t get it. Everyone we know is dead.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Might as well be, ‘cause you ain’t never gonna see ‘em again.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “Rick. You ain't never gonna see Maggie again.”

She shoved at his hand. “Daryl, stop!”

“No!” He turned away, feeling the bluster that had kept him going drain from him. “Governor rolled right up to our gates. Fuckin’ blew-” He sucked in a breath. “Fuckin’ blew my w-wife to pieces.” He swallowed past the sob building in his chest. “Maybe if I wouldn’t ‘ve stopped lookin’...” His voice cracked and he trailed off. “Maybe ‘cause I gave up. That’s on me.”

Beth stepped closer to him, grabbed at his arm. “Daryl.”

“No.” He shook her off. “And your dad… Maybe I coulda done somethin’.”

Beth near tackled him in a hug, squeezing him tight as he almost bent in half under the weight of his grief.

Mitzi had just raised her rifle when Daryl approached the group holding Rick and Michonne at gunpoint. She fought against the relief that was trying to convince her body to relax, keeping her eye trained down the scope.

“The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl.”

Daryl nodded, speaking directly to the leader. “These people, you’re gonna let ‘em go. They’re good people.”

The Steven Tyler wannabe looked shocked. “Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I’ll, of course, have to speak for him and all because your friend here strangled him in a bathroom.”

Daryl nodded, voice still low and conciliatory. “You want blood, I get it.” He set down his weapons. “Take it from me, man. C’mon.”

“This man killed our friend. You say he’s good people. Now that right there is a lie.”

Daryl deflated as two of the gray haired man’s goons advanced on him. “It’s a lie!”

One man punched Daryl in the gut with the butt of his rifle.

Mitzi lifted her rifle and fired. One of the two going after Daryl dropped. The others froze, clearly trying to place the direction of the suppressed shot. She cleared the treeline in the crouched walk the Army trained her in, her fucked-up knee protesting.

The leader seemed confused. He grinned, a chill chasing her spine. “That’s a mighty big weapon for such a small lady.”

She ignored him, catching Rick’s eyes and keeping her rifle trained on the one aiming at Michonne.

The man grinned. “Claimed.”

“The bitch or the gun?”

“Both.”

She shot him, Rick lunging at the leader, and turned toward the man still standing over Daryl. “You have two seconds to back the fuck off my husband before I get irate.”

The man’s knees gave out and he crab-walked back, begging and stuttering. “Please… I’m sorry, I was just doin’ what I was told. Please, don-“

“Shut up.” The man’s body slumped heavily.

Looking up, she caught sight of a man, still almost absently holding on to Carl. She raised her gun and watched Michonne level her sword.

Michonne clenched her jaw. “Let him go now.”

“He’s mine.” Rick brushed past her and Mitzi dropped her rifle.

Daryl almost tackled her, wrapping her up in a crushing hug. Wincing, she turned with a bright smile on her face, setting her rifle on the hood of the car. She blinked, maybe a bit too rapidly, and framed his face in her hands “Hey, baby.”

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, running a gentle thumb over her bruised jaw. “‘Hey, baby?’” He mimicked her, forcing a chuckle out of a tight throat. “Like y’weren’t just dead.”

“Not dead.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Just briefly missing.”

He pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. “How? I saw the guard tower. It was fuckin’ blown to pieces.”

She nodded, pushing his hair back and smoothing her thumb over his split lip. “When I saw the tank, I dove for the stairs. But the explosion knocked my feet out from under me and I just tumbled down the stairs. I’m probably only alive because it got me to the bottom of the stairs so quickly that I was able to shimmy under the stairs before the debris and ash started falling.” She kissed him gently. “I musta passed out and when I came to, the prison was overrun.”

He kissed her hard, one hand coming up to cup the back of her head. “You’re fuckin’ black n’blue.”

“I’m alright, though.” She winced, pulling away slightly. “I have a helluva goose egg, I fucked up my knee and I’m pretty sure I have a couple of broken ribs, but all in all, I’m good.”

He frowned, tilting her head down slightly to palpitate at the back of her head. “Y’have a coupla goose eggs.”

She laughed. “One for each flight of stairs.”

He grunted, obviously not amused. He lifted her shirt and winced at the dark bruise he found. As gently as he could, he pressed at some of the darker areas of the bruise. “Yeah…” he tsked. “‘Least two’a these are broken. Hafta find something to wrap them.”

She nodded, smiling fondly down at him. “I also dislocated my shoulder… fixed that already though.”

He snorted and pulled at the neck of her Pantera shirt. He shook his head, seeing the dark bruising on her gun shoulder. “Jesus, Spitfire. You shouldn’t a’shot your rifle.”

She scoffed. “I’ll take that under advisement for next time someone’s beating up on my family.”

He grunted, pressing his mouth to her temple and gently wrapping her in a hug. “There betta not be a ‘next time’.”

She felt arms around her and smiled back at Carl. He pushed his face into her neck, clutching at Daryl’s shirt around her.

Daryl tutted and tried to loosen Carl’s grip on her injured side. “She’s all banged up, kid. Gotta loosen up.”

He did but kept his face in her shoulder much to Daryl’s consternation.

She turned, smiling at Daryl when he grumbled, and pulled the boy into as gentle a hug as she could manage.

His breath stuttered, clearly still shaken from his encounter with the Claimer.

“Y’okay, hun.” She rubbed her hand over his head. “You grow like a weed, dude. I swear you’re taller than when I saw you last. You may be taller than me now.”

Carl chuckled wetly. “I’ve been taller than you for a while, Mitz.”

“Lies.”

Daryl stepped into her and pressed his face into her neck from behind. “‘Least a coupla months, baby.”

Michonne came over and gently added herself to the hug. She smiled softly. “You have good timing.”

Mitzi nodded. “And you leave a trail that is shockingly easy to follow.”

Rick staggered over to them, face red with blood and leaned heavily against Daryl.

“I do not leave an obvious trail.”

Mitzi snorted. “You do. Not many people runnin’ ‘round Georgia with a fuckin’ katana, ‘Chonne.”

The place immediately unsettled her and she could tell by the tension in everyone, even Carl, that they all felt it too. Rick shifted next to her and she tried to quietly, covertly lay her finger over the trigger guard of her rifle.

The man kept talking, reaching out to Michonne with a plate of food. Mitzi stepped closer to Daryl’s side, who caught her eye and nodded.

At that moment, Rick slapped the plate out of the man’s hand and pulled a gun.

Mitzi lifted her rifle and trained it on the man. There was a shadow on the ground so she turned, aiming up at a sniper kneeling in the corner of the roof opposite them. She saw Daryl and Carl raise and aim their guns as Michonne stepped back into stance.

“Where the hell did you get this watch?”

Mitzi used her free hand to pull Carl behind her by his shirt as he came up even to her. Carl kept his pistol up over her shoulder. He opened her mouth to speak and Mitzi shook her head, eye on the sniper through the scope.

The man held his hands up. “You want answers? You want anything else? You get it when you put down the gun.”

“I see your man on the roof with a sniper rifle. How good’s his aim?” Rick scoffed. “You see the redhead right there? She’s the best shot I’ve ever seen. She could probably take you all out without much help from us. I’m gonna ask you again. Where’d you get the watch?” There was tense silence and Rick repeated himself louder. “Where’d you get the watch?”

The man Rick had hollered at his compatriots, a tad more panicked than he probably intended. “Don’t do anything! I have this! You just put it down. You put it down!” He quieted, speaking only to Rick. “You want to listen to me. There’s a lot of us.”

The sniper lowered his weapon and Mitzi shifted to watch the other rooftops.

Rick rasped. “Where did you get the watch?”

“I got it off of a dead one. I didn’t think he’d need it.”

“What about the riot gear, the poncho?”

“Got the riot gear off a dead cop.” Another man, the man who had patted them down earlier, approached. Mitzi saw Michonne turn towards him out of the corner of her eye. “Found the poncho on a clothesline.”

“Gareth, we can wait.”

“Shut up, Alex.”

Rick’s voice was gruff and intense. “You talk to me.”

The man’s voice was smug. “What’s there to say? You don’t trust us anymore.”

“Gareth.”

“Shut. Up. Rick, what do you want?”

Rick grunted. “Where are our people?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Gunfire broke out and a sniper poked his head out on another roof. She shot him down before she felt Daryl push her after Rick. They made to run back the way they came but another sniper shot at the concrete in front of them. Before she could aim up and take him out, Rick started pushing her back the other way, following Daryl across the courtyard.

She turned, bullets firing into the ground at her feet and took out two more snipers with two quick shots.

Rick's hand fell on her shoulders and they made to run through a garage, people closing off the sliding metal door in front of them. Daryl pushed her through a door labeled ‘A’ after Carl. Finding themselves in another courtyard space, they sprinted across open ground, more gunshots ricocheting off the ground around them.

“Get them off B” someone shouted from a roof and Rick stopped to return fire.

As they rounded the corner, the smell of rot hit her in the face. To their side, was a large fenced area with obviously human bones spread out on a blue tarp. Carl turned to look and Mitzi reached forward to push him in front of her. Daryl slowed his stride as the sound of people pounding on metal and screaming for help became clear.

Rick pushed him forward and they exploded into a room that spat of cult, with lit candles and painted designs on the floor.

“What the hell is this place?” Daryl reached out to Mitzi, who caught his hand and squeezed.

“These people,” Michonne fought to catch her breath. “I don’t think they’re trying to kill us.”

“No.” Rick concurred. “They were aiming at our feet.”

He led them out the only available door, only to encounter more gunfire and a fence lined with people with rifles. Daryl, in front of her, pulled up short, caging her behind him.

“Drop your weapons now!”

They all looked to Rick, whose eyes were trained on the rooftop where Gareth’s voice had come from.

“Now!”

Mitzi sucked on her tongue, bending at the waist to lay her rifle out. She pulled her pistol and knife from their holsters and passed them to Daryl, who added them to his pile of arms.

“Ringleader. Go to your left. Train car, go.”

Rick hesitated, looking back at Carl. “You do what we say, the boy goes with you. Anything else, he dies and you end up in there anyway.

Rick nodded and strode toward the train car.

“Now the archer.”

Daryl caught her eyes and Mitzi nodded, Daryl following after Rick.

“Now the samurai.”

Michonne visually checked with Carl as she passed him.

When Michonne stood behind Daryl, Gareth spoke again. “Now the sniper.”

Mitzi scoffed, but began moving after Michonne. “You might wanna check your boys. I didn’t hit any of those assholes with a headshot.” She turned and caught his eye, smiling. “On purpose.”

Gareth clenched his jaw and ignored her. “Stand at the door: ringleader, archer, samurai, sniper. In that order.”

There was a long pause.

“My son.” Rick shouted from the train car.

“Go, kid.” Carl made his way towards them and Gareth shouted another order. “Ringleader, open the door and go in.”

“I’ll go in with him.”

Gareth sounded frustrated. “Don’t make us kill him now.”

Rick climbed the stairs and opened the door with a heavy clank. One by one they filed in. Rick pulled Carl in and checked on him as the door slid shut behind him.

“What do you think, Mitzi?”

She squatted in front of the doors and sighed. “They’ll use flashbangs or smoke bombs, riot suppression shit-”

“If they have them.” Daryl inspected the hinges.

She nodded. “If they have them. Try to overwhelm us, get us to give in without a fight.”

“What can we do?” Glenn had his arms crossed over his chest and she smiled up at him.

“Who do you take me for, little brother?” She reached over and squeezed his side. “I’ll be damned if I go down without a fight.”

“Did you say your name was Mitzi?” The big ginger strode towards her. “Mitzi Donovan?”

She nodded, standing. “Yeah, that’s right?”

Everyone seemed transfixed by the spectacle. Daryl reached forward to grip her hip.

“Captain Mildred E. Donovan?”

She frowned, almost correcting the use of her government name out of habit.

“Her last name’s Dixon.” Daryl’s voice rumbled out from his chest, vibrating over her scalp from where her head was pressed to his chest.

The man had a slightly disconcerting grin on his face.

She straightened her stance, broadening to take this asshole down if he had lost his mind. “My maiden name was Donovan. Why? Who the fuck are you?”

“You’re a fucking legend.” The man looked almost gleeful and she stepped back instinctively into Daryl. “300+ confirmed kills. US Army kill shot record holder. Fuck, but it is a pleasure to meet you.”

He stuck his hand out and she stared back. “What?”

“You’re Captain Mildred E. Donovan - Dixon, sorry. You’re an Army Ranger, right? One of the most deadly Army snipers in history.”

Bob shook his head. “Not the time, Abe.”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you?” She grasped his hand. When that seemed to placate him, she turned and nodded to Rick. “We need weapons.”

“I can assist with the procurement of hand fashioned weapons.” The big dark-haired man in the back nodded. “Everyone still has their belts?”

Part 6

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction

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andrew-minyards-bitch · 4 years

Text

Foxes and presentation night

So Allison offhandedly mentioned wanting to do a little presentation night and of course Dan and Renee immediately hopped in

They tell the other foxes and no one was really against it, not even Andrew which surprised everyone

Now comes presentation week and Matt is freaking out because he doesn’t know what to do his slides on

Dan helps him out, assuring him that this is just for fun and he shouldn’t be stressing out about it (also because like who’s taking this srsly?)

Day of the presentation and Andrew, Allison, Matt and Renee are shopping for some little snacks and onesies for the night

Aaron, Dan, Kevin, Nicky and Neil are in the dorms trying their darn hardest to cook food (this fails spectacularly seeing as none of them had good family life)

The others get back from shopping and as soon as the car parked on the lot they could hear a beeping alarm sound

“Please tell me it wasn’t the others who’ve caused that”

“Keep wishing Matt and maybe it’ll come true”

“Renee your enthusiasm is clearly misplaced if you think the jerks we left at home are capable of cooking so I wouldn’t put my words for it”

“Can’t believe I’m agreeing with Andrew but yeah he’s right”

The students at said college were familiar with the foxes’ mischief and did not run out the building in terror (maybe it’s because finals were getting to them and they couldn't care if they got set on fire)

“Did you guys get the snacks?”

“Of course, why’d you think we went out for?”

“Andrew your sarcasm is very much appreciated”

“Glad to know captain” (mock salute)

Night comes and the foxes change to their fox onesies and all gather in a big circle with a projector in the middle

Andrew and Neil are sitting together and are touching hands (they hold hands halfway through the presentation and Neil does that little thing where his thumb rubs Andrew’s hands)

Kevin and Aaron are on a beanbag (aaron’s on kevin’s laps and kevin has his arms around aaron’s waist while aaron is twiddling with kevin’s hands)

Nicky, Dan, Matt, Renee and Allison are sitting on the couch

Dan volunteers to go first

Reasons why team building exercises are necessary: (read: how to consider others feelings/emotions)

1. Therapy

“oh come on! I’ve had five of those” “Andrew has had too many lmaoooo” “shut up! Nicky”

Next is allison

How to cover up scars/basics of makeup

“Neil’s gonna need this one” “So did you Aaron” “Andrew not you talking as though you were faring any better” “and this is why we need therapy” (dan is tired)

Neil did his slides solely to piss off Aaron

Broken bones and how to heal them

“Istg if any of y’all listen to this idiot’s advice” “he’s had experience!” “yeah but who’s the medical student here Allison? Yeah, that’s right me!”

Nicky comes in with that is your close friend gay?

“Nicky you know damn well none of us in this room can be considered straight” “yes my dear Renee but here are factors of a gay b-”

1. “I went to starbucks and got…” this person is straight

2. “I got boba and/or I want boba” this person is the furthest thing from straight

“Why’s he right though??” “Oh my god!”

Reasons why Neil should sign these adoption papers

“MATTHEW DONOVAN BOYDD, why the hell do you have adoption papers at the ready!?” “But Dannn” “no”

The things humanity could have achieved if the Alexandria Library wasn’t burnt

1. Avoid war of 1812 (this was literally just America feeding their man’s egos)

2. Hanging garden of babylon was real and I will not hear a words against it

3. Reduction of men’s audacity

“Kevin woke up today and chose to state facts 💅”

Different types of Knives and when to use them

“I’d expect this from Andrew not Renee” “ I know, just go along”

“You’re a blessing, I will definitely be using this new information” “Neil!” “What? It is good information”

How many shots I’m gonna need to go to bed with you (excluding nicky and andrew):

And finally,, Andrew’s

Things I’ll do to make your day a little bit worse

1. Kevin (I’d just leave him in a store or something, he doesn’t have a car either so that helps)

2. Dan (I’ll block goal and make sure none of y’all ever score)

3. Renee (ignore you, leave you on read)

4. Allison (buy Neil some clothes before you get the chance”

“Do it I’ll claw your balls off”

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #tfc #kevin day #neil josten #aaron minyard #kevaaron #andreil #allison reynolds #nicky hemmick #dan wilds #matt boyd #renee walker

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i-love-side-characters · 4 years

Note

What did you think of the end of The Toll?

!!! TOLL SPOILERS !!! PROCEED WITH CAUTION !!!

Scythe Cult: @honorablescythecurie @honorablescythefaraday @palli-x @book-limerence @lochscinders @a-lonely-tatertot @shellyseashell

bored? send me serotonin please <3

Okay now lets get a couple things out of the way. I haven’t read Toll in a little bit, and it’s taking forever to come from the library. Also, yes I did have it downloaded before, but I kept rereading Faraday’s journal entry when he find out Curie is dead. I know, I’m trash for them but honestly let me have this #curiedeservedbetter2021 #faradaydeservedbetter2021 #curadayforlife

Now that we’ve established that I’m just lonely and so I cling onto healthy (ish) fictional couples for my source of love, let’s proceed.

Things I remember:

- Rowan and Citra go zoomy zoom into spacey space, but Citra’s deadish because Goddard pulled some shit and so Rowan’s going to wait a couple hundred years for her to wake up

- Total hottie Ayn Rand shanked Goddard which is honestly a power move you go girl

- Faraday and Munira unleashed the failsafe, which basically infected a whole bunch of people and now Scythes just kill the infected people so that there’s no suffering

- Jeri!!! and Greyson!!! Babeys!!! Smol Beans!!! My genderfluid babey with my weird Jesus man it’s a match made by the Thunderhead (because it literally is)

- Rowan and Citra (who renounced her Scythehood) are going to start a new colony on some random ass planet

Things I don’t remember:

- Whatever happen with Cirrus

- Whatever happen with Joel the Jobe Man

- Whatever happen with Loriana and Munira who are totally in love Shusterman said Sapphic rights

Okay Akki stfu lets move on:

Okay. I didn’t really like it. I did like Rowan’s sarcasm, but the ending fell a little flat. Compared to the other books’ endings, I didn’t really think it measured up. It was just a bit bland. Here’s why.

The end goal:

Let’s just work our way through the series to show why The Toll just didn’t really work for me.

Scythe - Book 1:

Goal/Climax:

The goal/climax of the book was clear. Citra and Rowan are fighting for the ring. Only one can get it, and the winner has to glean the other.

The ending:

Citra wins the ring, and is ordained. Instead of actually killing (gleaning) Rowan, she slyly grants him immunity by punching him so that his blood’s DNA would transfer to the database and no Scythe could kill him. We also got a confession scene where they tell each other they love the other. It ends with Rowan finding out that Faraday did not self-glean.

Why it works:

It is tense. We are watching the two main characters have to either kill the other or be killed. Neither want to. It is clear from their actions throughout that they harbour feelings for each other. This is a high stakes situation. And it flows nicely. We don’t have any unnecessary dialogue/scenes. We don’t have a dumb solution to the problem where a bunch of unnecessary events happen like a character death/romantic scene. They do tell the other that they love them, but the moment is quick and is not the focus of the moment. The focus is on the actual ordainment ceremony and the challenge. The solution directly addresses the main conflict of the book.

Thunderhead - Book 2:

Goal/Climax:

Goddard and Citra (now Anastasia) are presenting their arguments as to who will win the inquest. The inquest was called because Anastasia and Curie needed time to gain more votes in favour of Curie for the position of High Blade.

The ending:

Anastasia and Curie win the inquest, and Goddard must complete a full new apprenticeship in order to train his new body. Goddard, however, has tricks up his sleeve. He had made a plan prior to the events on Endura to cripple the Grandslayers tower. The plan changes, but works to his favour and destroys the entire island. Curie, in a desperate attempt to save Rowan and Citra, locks them in an airtight chamber that will preserve them so they can be revived. With this sacrifice, Curie is forced to self glean.

“She thrust her blade inward, directly into her heart. She fell to the ground only seconds before the sea would wash over her, but she knew death would wash over her faster. And the blade hurt far less than she imagined it would, which made her smile. She was good. Very, very good.”

-Thunderhead, page 499

Why it works:

*violently screams in my head* I’m good don’t worry

It is a logical ending. If Curie and Anastasia had won the inquest and survived Endura, there would be no need for a third book, unless Shusterman had decided to write a book about Curie being High Blade and Goddard sulking in the shadows and plotting to kill her. That wouldn’t work because I don’t think there is any possible way Curie wouldn’t catch Goddard in two seconds because she’s a boss.

Many people say that Curie should have gotten Rowan to lock her and Anastasia in the vault instead of him. Rowan would have died for Anastasia, it makes sense, but that takes away from the very essence of Curie’s character. She is a truly Honourable Scythe. She knows that Anastasia loves him, and she cares deeply about Anastasia. Letting herself survive would have been completely out of character. She also knows that Anastasia is the future of the Scythedom. While it would be a great help if Curie didn’t die, as well as sparing us emotional trauma, it doesn’t make sense for her character.

This ending also directly “solved” the issue in the book. While the villain won, it was a satisfying ending. Curie is dead, that was a very smart move, because obviously Goddard wouldn’t survive two seconds if she was there. It gave us a good reason for the Thunderhead to disappear.

*violently screams again* Curie died, yeah, no, I’m okay

The Toll - Book 3: *note that some details may be wrong

Goal/Climax:

Faraday, Rowan, Jeri, Munira, Loriana, Anastasia, Greyson, and Cirrus need to figure out what to with the frozen Tonists, all unknowing that Scythes Goddard and Rand are heading towards the island. They still need to beat him in order to make sure that the non-Scythe population won’t be subject to bias/malice/aforethought/Goddard’s ego.

The ending:

Rowan, and Citra, who renounced her Scythehood, travel to another planet that can support life with the frozen Tonists, as well as 42 other ships carrying Tonists. Cirrus is copied into 42 different versions in order to save humanity. After being offered Citra’s old ring, Munira (I believe) returns to the Library of Alexandria. Faraday follows through with the failsafe and gleans only the suffering. Greyson and Jeri stay together on the island, and become romantically involved. Scythe Rand is the one who eventually kills Goddard.

Why it DOESN’T work:

Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here. I’m just going to go character by character and by the plot.

1. Plot - It just doesn’t make sense. The hero’s solution doesn’t in any way stop Goddard, who is the main villain. We’ve led up to this for a very long time, and Rand is the one who gleans him. If I’m correct, The main characters don’t interact with Goddard for nearly the entire book, save Rowan. The solution, to save humanity by colonizing other planets would, without Rand’s interference, let Goddard wreak his havoc on the world. Only Scythe Faraday and Morrison could truly challenge him, and even then Faraday is old and hasn’t kept his abilities refined, and Morrison is young and inexperienced and wears a denim robe.

2. Rand and Goddard’s Arcs - Rand is the one who kills Goddard. I think that this was a very interesting move, and one that made a lot of sense. Goddard has treated her terribly, it would satisfy her arc of turning against him, as well as giving her a redemption arc that would also avenge Tyger’s death. I think that this is actually a really good arc, were it not for the fact that Citra and Goddard never fought/interacted with each other. If there had been a fight, and Rand had killed him then, that would have been better and would have better satisfied the actual conflict in the book.

3. Rowan and Citra’s Arcs - In terms of Citra’s arc, I think it was emotionally impactful to have her renounce her Scythehood. But Rowan didn’t have as much of a part to play in this book as he could have had. Citra and Goddard also never interacted, which would have been very interesting since he was the direct cause of her mentor and canon mother figure’s death. It would have been an interesting scene that could have played out really well. Based on Discord texts from a conversation I had, I know an reminded that the last two pages of The Toll were incredibly impactful and beautiful. I don’t have much to say about Rowan since I don’t remember much of his role.

4. Jeri, Greyson, Loriana, and Munira’s Arcs - I paired these four together since their doings aren’t very solid after the books. Jeri and Greyson are canonically together, which I think was a great move by Shusterman. Having a main character in a healthy relationship with a canon LGBTQ+ character was incredibly impactful for me, and it satisfied Greyson’s thoughts about how he doesn’t care if Jeri is a boy or a girl, he just loves them. Loriana didn’t have as much of an arc, but Munira did have a small one. Her refusal of the Scythe’s ring let her dispense of her hatred for Scythes and their system, and let her let go of her bitter feelings about not being ordained.

5. Cirrus’ Arc? - I do not remember enough to speak about Cirrus’ role in the books.

6. Faraday’s Arc - This is probably the one I have the most to say about. I am sorry in advance. Faraday is an emotional character. He has cried canonically twice as far as I can remember, once when he gleaned a child, and the other when he found out Scythe Curie and Anastasia had died on Endura. He is also openly disgusted with Scythe Goddard and his practices, which is why I supremely dislike his arc. It would have been so interesting to see how he would have reacted if Scythe Goddard and the heroes had interacted during the end scene of The Toll. We know he is an Honourable Scythe, like Curie, and upholds the Scythe Commandments, especially after his punishment over his breaking of the 9th commandment “Thou shalt have no spouse nor spawn.” It would have been so. interesting. to see whether Faraday would snap and attack Goddard, if he would try and talk to him, how he would react. Like with Anastasia, he would have been interacting with Curie’s murderer. The potential of that moment! Don’t forget that Faraday is definitely still in love with Curie, based on his elevated heart rate in Thunderhead, and his journal entry in The Toll. I think it would have been so interesting to see him confront her killer.

Summary:

Okay that was much longer than I intended, and I have more thoughts, but it’s 2:40 am and I haven’t slept in a while. So my summary. I liked The Toll. It was a solid book, that had funny moments, jaw dropping moments, heartfelt moments, and emotionally impactful scenes. It was a solid book.

I don’t think it compared as much to the other two, especially Thunderhead. The ending fell a little flat and didn’t carry the arcs as well as I would have liked, but honestly, I still reread it. Shusterman really managed to pull at your emotions.

Because I just beat up on the book for the last couple paragraphs, let me tell you some of my favourite parts of the book.

1. Literally any scene with Possuelo and Anastasia that dynamic was so good and him calling her “meu anjo” literally made my heart do a little happy dance the father-daughter dynamic was what we needed. It also offered a nice levity to tough scenes.

2. The Rowan-Anastasia Reunion. They ran towards each other and knocked each other off their feet. Ohhhh my god, they ran towards each other and knocked each other off their feet! That was so cute, and as someone who was a strong supporter of platonic Rowan & Anastasia, I honestly loved it.

3. Faraday-Anastasia Reunion. Him dropping to his knees in front her her, her initial confusion as to who he was, and the “perhaps the greatest of all Scythes was kneeling in front of her” part killed me. Their reunion was so well written and heart-wrenching.

4. Anastasia Cries about Curie’s Death. I feel like WatchMojo right now. Anyways, the way her emotions break after trying to repress her sadness over her mentor’s sacrifice for her.

5. Rowan’s sarcasm. Beauty. What a power move to sass the guy who’s going to set you on fire in front of 3000 people.

6. Scythe Constantine and Rand. What a dynamic I wasn’t ready for. Rand’s cool comebacks with Constantine’s sly personality just made for the most amazing dialogue opportunities.

Thank you anon!

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little-ideas · 4 years

Text

Life in the Devildom

I’ve spammed playing Obey Me for ~1 week and have just begun chapter 16, so if anything is addressed in the series later, I haven’t gotten to it yet > < I tried to leave these ish outside the realm of the plot so hopefully they’re not too crazy :)

MC getting sick and the brothers freaking out because the last time they dealt with human illness was the bubonic plague

Time difference shenanigans:

The devils and angels say they’ll get something done “soon” or “briefly” and MC constantly having to ask for clarification

MC’s current schedule is fairly light, but they’ll be that rad senior citizen who’s always got something going on during the weekends

Zaramela concerts with Levi in 2058

Cheering on Luke & Barbatos w/ Beel in the Realms’ Centennial Bake-Off

Tea time with the Angels once a month

Convincing Diavolo to let the brothers in to the human world and getting true history/purpose on items in museums

Getting kicked out of various antique shows with Mammon until they’re both permanently banned from every single one

MC getting asked if they remember the name of that one book about ___ from the library of Alexandria

Just constantly being asked if they recall things/events/people from history

“Guys wtf that was millennia ago”

“Wasn’t born yet”

“Ask my great, great, great, great, great grandparents”

Asking the non-humans questions from ancient Earth’s history

“So like, what really happened with the dinosaurs?”

“We don’t talk it. Too soon MC”

“It was 65 million years ago, wtf do you mean ‘Too soon’?!?”

Brothers had to crash course human world info before MC showed up since going to the human world is limited to Barbatos, Diavolo, and Lucifer

Asking about religions and how true they are

MC probably asks Lucifer to curse their door after they learn he can do that so the others stop coming in uninvited

MC honestly is probably struggling so hard in their classes regardless of how much help and studying they get/do. MC’s common knowledge or background info can’t top what’s common knowledge to the devils. It’s a school for those who have lived for freaking ever what more can they learn about???

Upon accepting the reality they’re in the Devildom, MC starts making a list of people/souls they’d like to meet

All the things MC can’t do without help because they can’t fly or the task requires magic so is just constantly calling the brothers for help

Has Mammon on speed dial because he’s upset whenever the called help isn’t him

Honestly at some point MC just snaps at all the others because they keep calling Mammon stupid/fool/idiot (was implied that this has happened even in their angel days) and not only is it cruel, Mammon’s behavior may have started out as a desire for attention that’s now just habit because he’s canonically good when it comes to bets and things that get him money and is very emotionally cued in to MC

He’s also just 2nd most powerful after Lucifer yet still gets walked over by everyone

A lot of his actions just seem like he’s trying to do something to stand out or gain praise even if they’re not good

Many years ago I heard something on NPR or someplace that said class clowns are often highly intelligent and act in such ways because they’re bored, so MAYBE MAMMON’S THE SAME WAY AND NOT ACTUALLY STUPID *glares at the rest of the OM cast*

Look Mammon annoys me but he doesn’t deserve all the shit he gets from everyone else, ESPECIALLY since it’s been going on for millennia and he’s been hearing such things from so long he’s probably internalized it and is acting in such a way that makes it true

So MC stands up to everyone else about Mammon and they are all sHoOk

And thus begins MC’s reign as Mammon’s champion of justice and they have sleepovers where MC re-assures Mammon and helps him see his true worth. Continues even after their yr in the Devildom they have a pact Mammon gets summoned for self-worth night fIgHT ME

Stands up for Luke, too

And Levi as not being a “worthless” otaku (he’s an otaku, he takes pride in that, but he ain’t worthless)

Just extends this to everyone because all-powerful beings can still be insecure and struggle with emotions and self-value, especially when they’ve already been defined as powerful and are held up on a pedestal by others yet make fun of and put each other down a bunch

Humans may be the weakest and shortest living but don’t for a second think they wouldn’t and couldn’t kick demon and celestial ass if they have to

Are social beings by nature protecting friends and processing emotions is kinda our thing

Do the Celestial Realm and Devildom have therapists? Because MC’s the leading advocate for them now after seeing how mentally unhealthy everyone is

TBH Diavolo probably allows MC to get away with so much shit

Want an MC who’s not afraid to curse in front of him

And yeah MC will respect the established hierarchy, but still calls out the others’ BS and isn’t afraid to challenge him

Something that the others clearly are hesitant to do

So this puny, fragile (by demon standards) human having no qualms about voicing their opinion to Diavolo amuses the heck out of him and he probably appreciates it

They have an interesting relationship going forward, complete with their own set of jokes and clapbacks and they probably give Lucifer a heart attack the first couple of times

MC doesn’t realize anything’s amiss and is just interacting with Diavolo as normal, but Diavolo is purposefully messing with Lucifer

Lucifer bristles and is about to tell MC off when Diavolo just laughs or silently waves him off

Probably either questions Diavolo directly or asks Barbatos about it afterwards

MC just not giving a damn about the human-devil-celestial differences

“You want my soul? Fucking work for it”

#om #obey me

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authoressskr · 5 years

Text

Howlite and Hearts

Characters: f!Reader, Melanie (OFC), Tania (OFC), James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, James Rhodes

Warnings: Language and no Beta :: Word Count: 8,465

This was written for @moonbeambucky’s 5k Writing Challenge!! I went with a dragon!soulmate!au, which I hadn’t seen before, but I did have a nifty dream about it that spawned this whole idea. He’s still an Avenger. Events are basically still the same, just with dragons. ‘Cause who wouldn’t love a dragon companion??

Prompt: “You said you would come back for me.” Bolded in text below.

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

Since men emerged from caves, began using tools and reshaping their environment, they have been intrigued by the draconian terrors of all shapes and sizes that roamed the world. The first records of man and dragon working together are from Mesopotamia, pieces of shattered pottery pieced back together showing a dragon standing beside a woman. Assyrian artifacts depict water dragons helping farmers in the field. Egyptian murals show dragons protecting the Pharaoh and his family, others showing different breeds of dragon fetching books from inside the Library of Alexandria.

History is dotted with famous dragons and their bonded humans; King Arthur and his steel-colored dragon, Excalibur. William Shakespeare and his dragon, Bard. Cleopatra and Bucephalus, named after Alexander the Great’s legendary steed. Abraham Lincoln and his dragon, Crusoe.

Over the centuries, dragons have become smaller from the giants painted in mythology, old texts and wall murals. The biggest dragon these days are about the size of a large crocodile, with the biggest recorded in the last decade almost as big as a hippo. Height varies on the type of dragon - with the tallest one balancing on its tail, hits almost eye level with a giraffe.

Classes have been taught for centuries about dragons and the bond between them with humans. Dragons will sometimes die right after their human counterpart and vice versa. Dragons who have lost their counterpart will sometimes live, seeking out their counterpart’s soulmate to stay with their draconian mates as well. It is not an uncommon thing - especially after times of war - for soulmates to have both dragons if one has died.

Dragon pairs will usually have the same colors and markings, even though they will often not be the same type of dragon. Dragons may look similar to the human eye, but a dragon will know it’s mate no matter what. It has not been determined how the dragons know their mate almost instantaneously, but after millennia humans have begun to follow the dragon counterpart’s knowledge in this area. Marriages of alliance and royalty have often been changed or dropped when one party finds its soulmate. In the same vein, marriages have also been arranged due to this circumstance as well. Cinderella is the most referenced fairy tale of this, with Cinderella having the same sapphire and gold colored dragon as the prince (*Dragon color varies by region and culture).

With the reemergence of Captain America and his dragon, it has helped scientists and theorists who now believe that the dragon and human bond is stronger than initially thought. Steve Rogers, known as Captain America, and his dragon Rak, were frozen for nearly 70 years and both proved to be in perfect health with an unbroken bond after thawing from the ice. Several theorists are pointing to a pieced together story found in Egypt about a man who was thought to be dead during a war, his dragon dying alongside - only for the pair to wander through the desert for nearly two years before arriving in Constantinople. The pair nearly died of dehydration several times but emerged with a stronger bond than before. The man claimed to the writer that it seemed as if after his trouble, he and his dragon experienced more than an emotional bond. It was as if they were linked in their minds and hearts. Whatever the case, it seems as if the bond between human and dragon is strong, it can always be strengthened. The only bond that is stronger - most noted and pointed out - is that of a matched pair with both dragon and human with their mates, protecting each other.

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You slide into the restaurant’s plush booth, smiling across the table at your best friend of nearly 13 years as you toss your purse further onto the bench.

“How was work?” You ask as you settle in, your dragon climbing from the inside of your jacket where she’d been resting earlier to drape her long body over your shoulders while your soulmate’s dragon settles his bulk over your feet under the table, his tail curling around your leg.

“Awesome. Matt finally asked me out.”

“Ooh! Congrats! When are you two supposed to go out?”

“Saturday!”

“Nice.” Your conversation pauses as the waitress appears, cheerfully asking for your drink order as a little yellow head pops out of her apron pocket.

“Iced tea and water, please.” You request, fingers coming up to scratch under Cloud’s chin.

“Gin and tonic, please. And water, as well. Thank you.” The waitress bounces off, high ponytail bouncing. Mel leaning a bit forward with a grin. “We could double date.” A deep growl sounds from under the table, making you chuckle.

“Godzilla says no.” Mel frowns at the table before shifting her brown eyes back to you. “He’s a good boy,” You coo before continuing. “He’s just keeping an eye on me until we’re reunited with my soulmate.”

“You gotta stop letting him do that. And you can’t reunite with someone you’ve never met.” Mel mutters as the waitress arrives with your drinks. You both thank her as she withdraws her pen from her apron, causing her little dragon’s yellow head to pop from the black apron pocket again.

“What can I get you ladies?”

“May I get the alfredo with chicken and mushrooms, please?”

“Side salad or soup?”

“Salad. Italian dressing please.”

“Of course! And you?”

“Shrimp carbonara. And a side salad for me as well. Ranch. Thanks.”

“I’ll get that out in a jiff!”

“Semantics. He and I will finally meet. Godzilla will be reunited.” Stroking his lifted head under the table a few times before he settles back into place again.

“Did your time off get approved?” Mel switches the subject before taking a hearty sip of her gin and tonic, both of you thanking the waitress as she sets your salads down before bouncing off again with a big smile. Melanie’s long serpentine jade dragon slithers from her purse, using a little flap of its peacock-colored wings to get it to the tabletop and chirps until Melanie surrenders all her croutons to him. “Bread thief.” She mutters as it chomps happily away.

“Yep!” You mutter cheerfully around a mouthful of greens. “Two freakin’ weeks! Soooo happy and ready for this road trip.”

“Model employee, you are.”

“Thank you for that high praise, Yoda.”

“When I finish this salad, I’ll dig out my proposed itinerary outline for the trip. I’m already so excited! Five days and we’ll be on vacation!” She does a happy little wiggle, Linus mimicking her with his little jade body. You both giggle at his antics.

“Did Tania get off? I text her on Monday and she said it was ‘Pending’ in the system.”

“Yeah, she texted me yesterday morning to say she got it off. But her brother’s wedding is on Saturday. In Dallas. So she’ll fly out late Sunday afternoon so we can all start out from San Fran on Monday.”

“Keep her hydrated Sunday night. Got it.” Your bouncy waitress reappears to whisk the salad plates away, promising the food will be out in just a few minutes. Godzilla’s heavy tail thumps against your leg and the booth, making you grin at your chunky boy. “Is Chinatown on your itinerary?”

“I keep forgetting you’ve never been there before…” She digs her little notebook from her purse and hands it across the table to you. “I’ll add it to the couple of days when we come back.” Cloud nudges at your jaw as you read through the daily logs.

“I like it. Taking our time everywhere. Plenty of adventure and time out for the fluffernuggets.”

“You call them by the weirdest names...” Mel mutters with a big smile as the food arrives, thanking the waitress before you take a long drink of your tea.

“They love them.” You take a couple pieces of chicken and pass it under the table, Godzilla happily chomping as you pass a piece to Cloud. “And jealousy is an ugly thing, Mel.” She passes a piece of shrimp to Linus, his little fingers on his wingtips holding onto the shrimp to tear it two.

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“So, what are you gonna wear on -” An older couple walks by, the woman tutting as she sees Godzilla’s tail under the table. You can see her counting and mentally steel yourself.

“Three.” She mutters loudly to her husband, who gives a solemn nod and steers her away. You feel a hand on top of yours, a gentle squeeze making you turn your attention back to your food.

“She’s just an old hag who doesn’t know anything.” You nod.

“She just really brought down my happy mood.”

“Then we’ll a couple drinks and go to that bookstore you like.”

“You always know the right thing to say to me.” She snorts, making you grin at your oldest friend.

“I should fucking hope so by now, honey.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Bucky and Sam sit on the patio closest to the hanger, playing poker when Steve comes around the corner, tapping on his phone.

“How’s it going today guys? Missed our morning run.” He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk.

“We stayed up drinking loooong after you left last night.” Sam chuckles out, throwing a card down and picking up another.

“Alcohol doesn’t affect Bucky.”

“I slept in and didn’t drag my ass out of bed that early in solidarity.” Steve snorts but nods.

“Yeah. Okay, pal. Keep lyin’ to yourself.”

“I can and I will,” Bucky replies, using his vibranium hand to scratch the scruff on his jaw with a lazy grin plastered on his face.

“Hey, guys! Uh, I mean Mr. Rogers, sir. And Mr. Barnes. And, um, Mr. Wilson.”

“You don’t have to -” Steve starts, shaking his head at Peter’s formality.

“Nah, I think I like being addressed as Mr. Barnes.”

“Just stick to first names, kid.” Sam orders, tossing down another card and making a face at Bucky.

“Right. I can do that. Mr. Stark asked me to come and get you,” Steve pushes off the wall. “Mr. Barnes. Uh, Bucky, sir.”

“Okay.” Bucky grins before laying his cards on the table. “I win. You’re cookin’ me breakfast for the rest of the week.”

“Damnit.” Sam curses as he tosses his cards onto the table.

“See you all in a bit. Lead the way, kid.” Peter leads Bucky down to the lab he built for Bruce, the two farthest walls projecting documents and a few pictures of the West Coast of the United States. Bucky carefully scans the walls as Peter eagerly announces Bucky’s arrival.

“Ah, Barnes. Just the man I sent the kid for.” Tony comes around a table and points to the documents on the left wall. “What do you see?”

“Intel on a Hydra base by the Washington/Canada border. You think it’s active?”

“I wouldn’t have. Except for this morning, the power kicked on there.” Bruce comes into the room behind Bucky, pointing to the map as Tony zooms in on the border.

“We only know this because Fury cleared that particular base after he became director. He set up sensors to alert S.H.I.E.L.D. to any unwanted visitors.”

“And I hijacked all their sensors, systems and alerts,” Tony add smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So you want me to go scout it?”

“No, I’ve sent a suit to go do some recon. I want to know everything you know about this base… Anything they might’ve had there. Any reasons you can think of to why they’d attempt a reactivation there.” Bucky gives a little sigh before he walks up to the wall, flipping through each piece of intelligence information, racking his mind for any and all information he possessed on that base.

“Smuggling arms from Russia would be my best first guess...my second would be the terrible answer of human trafficking.” He then begins to explain the ins and out of the base, what he remembers being at the base and some of the areas they used for experimentation there.

“Jeez.” Bruce exhales loudly before rubbing a hand over his face, his dragon lifting its head from the chair in the corner, looking quizzically from Bruce to Bucky. Tony taps his fingers on the tabletop across from Bruce, thinking.

“Okay. We’ll wait for the suit to report back before alerting the rest of the team.” Bucky nods, casting an envious glance towards Bruce’s now sleeping dragon. The quick look makes Tony’s stance soften a little, something unnoticed by Bucky as he turns to leave. “Wait.” Bucky turns himself back around. “I’ve been scanning for a dragon that matches your descriptions and archival photos.” Tony has a ghost of a smile dancing in his eyes as he drops this bomb on him.

“That’s why you don’t have a dragon?” Peter pipes up from the other side of Bruce.

“Mine didn’t go into the ice with me like Steve’s. He probably ran away from the base when I fell from the train...I don’t think Howl has survived to now.”

“And you couldn’t have survived a fall from a train. Steve couldn’t have survived the ice-cold grip of the Arctic.” He leans his butt against the table he’d just been tapping on, arms crossed over his chest with a smile. “Yet here we are, Barnes.”

Bucky clenches and unclenches his jaw, fear curling in his gut at the question he’s about to ask.

“Did you find anything?”

“Got two hits so far.” Bucky’s heart stutters in his chest. “One in Scotland, the other in California.” Tony gives a sly smile as Bucky gives a firm nod, turning to leave with his human hand clenched tight.

“Hydra first.” He manages to grit out before opening the door, ready to escape to the woods just outside the base to get his thoughts straightened out.

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“Portland here we come!” Tania yells as you start the rental car, making you laugh as you pull onto the road, heading to the freeway entrance.

“I can’t believe it’s been two months since all three of us have been together!” You say excitedly as you merge onto the freeway - officially starting your road trip to Portland.

“Two months too long!” Mel yells from the second row.

“So, Tania, you gotta fill us in on your brother’s wedding!”

“Ugh. Ultra small. They just had her immediate family and our immediate family plus, like, his two idiot best friends and her best friend.” She pauses, shoving a handful of thick black curls away from her lovely face. “Beautiful though.” She sighs out with a small smile on her face. “Almost exactly the colors I’d like to do for my wedding one day; light blue and black, with silver accents. Dinner was delicious! Whew! Glad I wasn’t interested in getting laid, cause all that food was too good to pass up.” Mel nearly snorts behind you as Tania continues. “A nice long dinner, some light dancing and a few rounds of shots between siblings and friends. Then I got to tuck myself into a plush hotel room, watch ‘The Wedding Date’ and nod off to sleep.”

“I think that’s the least stressful wedding you’ve ever told us about.” You remark with a quick look at Tania.

“That’s cause this is my oldest brother. Typical big bro. Looking out for everyone else. Dated Katherine for like 3 years before he popped the question. He thinks everything through. Unlike my younger brothers. Those two are idiots.”

“Hot idiots.” Mel pipes up from the back as you and Tania make faces.

“Nope. Nope. Nope.” Tania says seriously before half turning in her seat. “So, how did your date with Matt go?”

“All he wanted to talk about was work and who I thought was going to get the new promotion...How he was waiting for his soulmate after three bad relationships. Total bust.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Need me to find a coffee shop before we officially head out of town?”

“Nah, she ordered a dessert to go at her busted dinner and I’ve bought her like four cups of coffee since yesterday.” You interject, watching Mel’s face break out in a big smile in the rearview mirror. Tania’s dragon slips from the folded down third row up to the front, crawling into her lap and sticking its head out the window, the soft black hair on its head and back twisting and turning in the breeze.

“Our first stop?” Tania asks Mel, stroking a hand over Falkor’s black wispy hair.

“Wherever you want it to be.” Mel grins out, brown eyes meeting yours in the rearview.

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It was about two hours down the line before Linus began chirping and growling, so you pulled over at a roadside area and let all the dragons out to go the bathroom and explore. You stake out a nice shaded bench to watch the four dragons play with a pair of Golden Retrievers. Dragons tended to love cats and dogs, and this was also a good chance for them to get out some of that pent up energy.

Tania demands a few selfies set against the coastline views and you suggest one with the dragons rolling around with the dogs, making you all laugh. After nearly fifteen minutes, you wander over to the middle-aged couple with the dogs, introducing yourself and thanking them for letting their dogs wear out your dragons. A few pleasantries and a loud goodbye, followed by some pets for Thelma and Louise, you herd the dragons up the hill to the bench for some water and a few snacks.

“That was a workout for everyone.” Mel chuckles, patting your back as you all head back to the SUV.

“Laugh it up. Next time wrangling is up to you, Melanie.” She just laughs as you climb back into the driver seat.

“Next stop, Fort Bragg.” Mel pipes up, holding her cell phone up for Tania to see.

Luckily, it only takes another two hours to get to Fort Bragg and the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens, where Mel had mapped out your first official stop on the road trip.

After admission and grabbing some lunch at Rhody’s Garden Cafe, getting a bowl of clam chowder in a bread bowl and two lamb gyros for Godzilla and Cloud. You give Godzilla a whole one and carefully cut the other into thirds. You give a third to Cloud, putting a travel dish of water between the two before digging into your lunch. Tania joins you next, Falkor perched on her shoulder and eyeballing the two smoked tempeh gyros on her tray with glee. Mel is the last to join with a bowl of tomato basil bisque, a side salad and a lamb gyro for Linus. You discuss the flora and fauna already surrounding you, the faint scent of the ocean blowing through a few times while you all enjoyed lunch.

Forty-five minutes later you’re looking out over the Pacific Ocean, eyes closed at the serenity of it all; Godzilla pressed against your left leg while Cloud is curled around your neck. You knew your soulmate couldn’t feel the contentedness you felt, but you hoped he could.

That was the same thought you had as you laid curled up in the king-sized bed later that night with Mel hogging the covers on the other side.

I hope wherever you are, you’re safe and know that we miss you and want to meet you, soulmate.

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“Suit came back negative.” Tony points to the screen running the video in the Debriefing Room. “No human traces. Followed the electrical lines back to the main breakers and … nada.”

“Nothing at all? Then who turned the power back on?”

“Still don’t know. There were no fingerprints on the breaker boxes or on the doors to and from that area. The only sign anyone had been there at all was in the semi-buried loading dock to the west of the actual facility’s blueprints.”

“So what’s the plan?” Wanda asks, looking from the footage to Tony.

“I think we should all go there. Clean out whatever S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t and then inspect that buried loading dock.”

“All of us?” Rhodey repeats, leaning back in his seat, trying to ignore Peter’s too excited looking eyes.

“Well, most of us. Leave the broken ribs twins here and Banner, of course. Vision and Rhodey will cover the outside, Steve and Wanda will go to the secret loading dock while Bucky and Sam locate wherever the loading dock’s exit should have been. I’ll recheck the systems, download all the information - if S.H.I.E.L.D left any on the servers - and I’ll call in Rhodey to do the heavy lifting, if need be, of machinery or files we locate.”

“When do we leave?”

“First thing in the morning. Better light for the Tin Man and Birdboy to search in.”

“So considerate,” Sam mutters loudly, rolling his eyes as he looks at Steve.

“Rest up team.” Steve dismisses everyone, Bucky still sitting in his chair, staring at the screen without really seeing it. Steve’s brow furrows, leaning forward in his own chair. “You okay, Buck?”

“Tony tell you he thinks he might’ve found my dragon?” Steve’s jaw drops open. “Guess not.” His entire face changes, his blue eyes lighting up and a smile growing.

“That’s great!” When Bucky doesn’t react except a nod, Steve’s dragon flits from his perch on the back of his chair to land before Bucky, letting a high pitched squeal out until Bucky offers him his hand. The ruby-colored wyvern scampers up his arm until it is able to nuzzle under his jaw.

“Thanks, Rak.”

“Don’t get too excited, Buck.” Steve snarks out, pursing his lips before leaning back in his chair.

“It’s just a lot to deal with. I thought he was dead...I thought I would just be alone, ya know?”

“You don’t gotta be alone now though. You’ll get Howl back.”

“Tony said a woman had him.”

“Your soulmate.” Steve’s breath out so reverently it sent shivers down Bucky’s back. Bucky rubs a hand tiredly over his face.

“I guess.”

“But you hope not.” He clenches his jaw before shaking his head at his best friend. “Jesus, Bucky.”

“I know, Steve. You act like I don’t fucking know.” Rak tugs sharply at a piece of Bucky’s hair at the tense air between the two men, hissing loudly when he drops his hair. Bucky turns to glare at the dragon. “Listen here, pipsqueak, I don’t need it from you too.” Rak blows a little puff of smoke at Bucky before launching off his shoulder to flit out of the room. “Stevie...it’s just a lot. All of a sudden. I mean, damn, there is no easing into it either. Tony just fucking laid it on me this afternoon and -”

“It’s all you can think of now. I get it - trust me Buck - but I wish I was in your shoes.”

“Still different shoes, Steve.”

“Shuri worked with you. You got a good therapist now. Don’t have as many nightmares or sleepless nights...I don’t see why you think you wouldn’t or don’t deserve a soulmate. You’re one of the best people I know, Bucky. Then and now.”

Bucky just sighs again, dropping his head into his hands and tugging on the long strands with frustration.

“It’s not that I’m not excited.” He begins softly. “It’s just that the cons right now outweigh the pros.”

“How exactly?”

“I am a formerly wanted Hydra assassin.”

“They cleared you of all charges against the Vienna bombing. They cleared you for helping me and the guys against Tony. But go on, drama queen.” Bucky raises his head and rolls his eyes at Steve.

“And it’s go off, Steve. I’m over a hundred fucking years old.”

“So am I. We look like we are in our thirties. Maybe she likes older men.” Bucky scoffs at his best friend’s smile.

“I haven’t seen Howl in seventy plus years.”

“Rak and I were in the ice for nearly that long. The bond doesn’t lessen by circumstances or distance. You two are a pair.”

“Alright, we both know someone else came up with that.”

“Coulson,” Steve admits with a rueful smile. “Words are still true.” Bucky rubs his hand over his face again with a sigh.

“Yeah. Yeah. Well, I guess we’ll find out after this mission.”

“I guess we will, pal. And apologize to Rak. He didn’t do anything to you, you bully.” Bucky and Steve both push themselves up from their chairs, making their way from the room.

“I’ll give him some pepperjack. You know he loves his cheese.”

“No more cheese! You aren’t the one who has to sleep with the little gas ball.”

“RAK!! CHEESE!” Bucky yells as he takes off for the kitchen, the little ruby dragon running to catch up at top speed behind the supersoldier as Steve shakes his head.

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You were all up just before sunrise, walking down the abandoned Glass Beach. Tania had been up the night before, googling things to do in Trinidad when she’d stumbled upon an article about the sea glass remains in Fort Bragg. And honestly? What’s better than an empty beach in the morning with your best friends and your dragons happily bringing you seashells, pieces of driftwood and harassing seagulls? Not much.

After an hour or so on the beach, you all make the quick trek back towards town for a large breakfast, where Godzilla swallowed a whole plate of eggs and sausage before looking up at you with big sapphire eyes. You’d given in - you nearly always do - and given him a piece of your toast and Mel had given him one of her pancakes.

“Chunker.” You mutter around a sausage link, giving the other half to Cloud as Godzilla amps up the begging eyes. You don’t give in this time. But Tania does - giving him the last bit of her omelet.

Forty-five minutes later, you’re all headed towards Trinidad. It’s an almost three-hour drive, beautiful and hugged quite close to the coastline. The windows are down and the music is up, with the sea air swirling around the cab.

You arrive, everyone tying on their tennis shoes to trek out to look at the enormous redwood trees that California is known for. You snap a few pictures as Godzilla attempts to follow Cloud and Linus up a Redwood, but his little glider wings aren’t as helpful as they should be. He turns those big blue eyes up at you, with Falkor perched on his back, both looking so sad.

“Oh, Lord.” You mutter as you bend over, “Okay, you gotta help.” His head bobs eagerly before you heft Zilla up, letting his claws lightly dig into the tree to help claw Falkor and himself up. Once he gets above your head, he manages another twenty feet or so before launching off the tree and gliding back down to the forest floor. His little teeth are barely seen in what you have come to learn is his smug smile. “Yes, you did amazing. Glad to be of help.”

You refuse to help him up a bigger tree, so he begins climbing every fallen one you all come across until Mel taps out about a half hour later. You all get back to the SUV, then find a place for lunch before continuing on into Oregon. A quick stop at the state line for a photo op and letting the dragons wander around for about fifteen minutes, Tania gives a sharp whistle to round them up so you can continue on your way.

You get just past Selma when a huge rainstorm blows in. It takes an hour and a half extra to get to the next town of Wilderville. Then have to go another 9 miles to get to the nearest hotel. Mel ran out to get some late lunch/early dinner since the rain wasn’t letting up at all.

An old Godzilla movie is on, Zilla swinging his tail excitedly when he hears Godzilla’s roar through the tv, imitating him happily in his deeper tones.

“That’s why you call him that?” You shrug at Tania’s question, chuckling at all the dragons watch Godzilla battle King Ghidorah enraptured.

“My mom just always called him that. She said cause they both got cankles.”

“They do!” She squeals, withdrawing her pajamas from her luggage. A drenched Mel struggles in a handful of minutes later. She stopped at the little grocery store, getting a small pack of tea bags, some honey, and a little tray of sausages and cold cuts for the scalies. Fried chicken and some salad for you three as you look up how long the storm should last and if there are any road delays ahead.

“So, after tonight do we go to Cannon Beach or Astoria? We all know which I prefer.”

“Yeah, Y/N we know you’d rather go to Astoria.”

“HEY, YOU GUYS!” You shout happily in reply.

“Well, I think Astoria would be good too. There are trails - providing it’s not too wet after this storm - plus museums, cute little shops downtown, antique stores, Lewis and Clark National Historic Park and a waterfall. That’s not including the Goonie house, which we’ll go see for Y/N.”

“Okay, so if it’s mostly clear by like, I don’t know, 5 am then I say we head out for Astoria then. My only thing is that we are kind of off the path Mel first planned. Do we head to Bandon then up to Astoria? Cause it says,” You withdraw your copy of her itinerary. “That it’s about 5 hours from Bandon to Astoria. And right now, it’s almost 3 hours to get back on Highway 1. We could do 8 hours, provided we stop enough to stretch our legs and let out the fluffernuggets.”

“I say we do the 3 hours to get us back to Bandon. Then the next day we’ll head to Astoria. When we are done in Astoria, we’ll head to Portland to grab a hotel for the night and explore it the next day. We aren’t in a rush.”

“That’s right,” As you nod in agreement with Tania, Mel continues. “This is only day two.”

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“Found anything?” Sam’s voice comes in through his earpiece, giving a little grunt as he shoved a part of a fallen tree out of his way.

“Looks like the exit. Covered in moss, leaves and a few fallen tree trunks that must have rolled partially down here. I’m about a click away from where we started.”

“Finally! Two damn days of looking...all this green blurring together. I’ll be there in a few seconds to help.” Bucky tears at the moss and vines around another trunk as he grunts out an “Okay” over the comm before Steve’s voice replaces Sam’s.

“Rhodey, Tony, Wanda and Vision are inside now, so I’m coming out to help you and Sam.”

“Gotcha,” Bucky replies, straightening up with a groan. “I got two trunks out of the way, but the last one is massive...I think the wall is behind it, and we should be able to follow the wall to the collapsed exit.”

“Roger that, Tin Man,” Tony confirms. “The last of the debris is nearly clear on this side. Wanda waved most of it away after we did the heavy lifting.”

“Right. Yes, that was exactly what happened...” Wanda’s voice is heavy on the sarcasm, making Bucky grin.

It’s nearly an hour later that Bucky and Steve manage to dislodge the trunk enough to comfortably get behind it to search the moss-riddled wall. Sam has Redwing searching along what they think is the wall, while Rak and Blackbird - Sam’s onyx little dragon - scramble along the base of the wall.

“Anything yet, Stark?” Bucky settles himself on the large log, fingers sliding into his damp locks and tying them back while they wait for Tony’s reply.

“Well, I haven’t found a secret door yet…”

“What Tony means is: yes Steve - we’ve found a mangled wall panel. Looks like it was smashed.” Bucky snorts at Wanda’s continued sass.

“I am working to fix the panel. Tony has gone back to divert the power to this end of the base.” Vision’s voice fills the comms just before they all hear a loud crack.

A rumble from the stone looking metal door shakes the ground around them as it attempts to roll itself up. By the time Tony makes it back to the dock, the door has managed to heft itself halfway up. Bucky eyes the door warily. He’s seen Indiana Jones...

“I hope we didn’t just do all the hard work for the bad guys,” Sam mutters as Rhodey, Vision, Wanda and Tony all join them carefully on the forest side of the door.

“We should blow it up,” Bucky remarks, Rak crawling up his pants and tact vest to settle on his shoulder. “That way we’re sure. The base is empty - all that’s left in there is old medical equipment I wouldn’t let anyone use, some desks and some chairs. We blow it up and then we just set up surveillance around the base and around Portland.”

Rhodey huffs out a breath in tandem with his dark emerald dragon, looking from Tony to Steve.

“I agree with Bucky, man. We get rid of the base then we get rid of the lure of any fractured HYDRA factions. Then we head to Portland for some delicious food at Proud Mary Cafe.”

Tony gestures at Rhodey, “Is that the place with the crab omelet?”

“Yep.” Bucky’s mouth waters a little at the mention of an omelet, only have a couple power bars since they’d started this morning. Portland sounds delicious at this point.

“Damn, that was almost decadent. Okay, I’m sold on Portland.” Steve rolls his eyes, making Tony smirk as his crimson and amber dragon clamors up his armor.

“We have gotten all files that were left behind. As well as documenting the whole base. We have no need for it if we are not going to occupy it.” Vision redirects the conversation back to the base. “And surveillance along the way, from here to Portland, would be excellent to execute for further knowledge on any HYDRA or other evil entities in the area. As Bucky and Rhodey have stated.” Bucky nods as he pulls a little leftover piece of jerky from his vest to give to Rak, who lets out a happy trill before Wanda reaches over to scratch the top of his head.

“Alright - you heard the Tin Men! Let’s blow her up.” He gestures back towards the half-open door. “Rhodey?”

“Tones, man, I’m gonna buy you a whole tableful of those omelets.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Jesus. Are we like that?” Bucky mutters to Steve, smiling as Rhodey selects his weapon.

“Worse,” Sam mutters from Bucky’s left, making Steve and himself chuckle before they all head back up the hill in an effort to avoid most of the dust and debris.

“Jealousy is an ugly thing, Sam!” Bucky calls out as Sam and Wanda rise into the air, both of them sporting big grins before Rhodey launches into his destruction of the base.

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“I’ve never had such pretty looking pizza!” Tania exclaims as it’s laid on the table, Godzilla’s tail thumping excitedly against your leg under the booth.

“Edible flowers and mushrooms? Ick.” Mel makes a face before picking up a piece of her fennel sausage pizza before picking up her fork and spearing a piece of the pansotti pasta to give to Linus.

“Well, we can have breakfast wherever you want.” You placate before handing a slice under the table before picking up a piece for yourself. You only got two bites in before Cloud drags it from your hand to devour it by your wine glass. “Apparently I am too slow for you, scaly.” Taking a healthy sip of your wine, you look across the table at Tania. “I saw a flag when we were walking earlier for the Portland Japanese Garden. We should check that out. The dragons like it when they can roam. Looks serene too.”

“As long as I don’t gotta hike, I’m golden with whatever,” Melanie mutters around another piece before handing one under the table for Zilla.

“If we do the Lan Su Chinese Garden, it has a teahouse!”

“Ooh, that sounds nifty Tania!”

“There’s also Powell’s City of Books. An entire city block worth of books.” Mel smiles over the rim of her glass at you. “And a hell of a coffee shop inside too.” Tania laughs, jiggling Falkor who is balanced on her shoulder, nibbling at her slice of pizza.

“If Y/N went in there, she might not come back out!”

“You say that like that’s a bad thing!” You defend, taking the last slice of your shared pizza with a playful glare at Tania.

“Think of all the money you’d spend.” Mel joins in.

“But then I’d have books…” You mutter around your mouthful.

“Your tiny little apartment can’t handle any more books.”

“That’s true,” You concede with a little sigh. “But that doesn’t mean if we have spare time, we can’t go and look!”

“Knew that was coming! Knew it!” Mel cackles, Linus giving her a judgemental look from his perch on the pasta plate as her hand slapped a few times on the table beside him.

“Well, I should fucking hope so by now.” You add smugly, taking a sip of your wine as Tania pulls out her phone.

“Okay. So what place do you want to do for breakfast, Mel?”

“I set up a reservation for breakfast for tomorrow at Proud Mary Cafe. One of the guys at my work, Tomas, says it’s the most delicious place to eat. So I set it up the day we left San Francisco since he mentioned it usually has a waitlist.”

“Holy crap,” Tania says softly as she peers down at her phone. “This food sounds decadent!”

“Read us a bit.” You request as you settle a little more comfortably into your seat.

“Savory french toast: Buttery portabella mushroom, smoked ricotta, chipotle charred greens, paprika crumb, croissant brioche, poached egg.”

“Whew. That sounds amazing!”

“Crab omelet: Singapore chili crab omelet, spicy noodles, bean sprout, and Asian herb salad, crispy onions.” She continues, licking her lips. “God I love crab.” With a shake of your head she looks up, “This is one I know you’ll want. Dutch honey hotcake: Vanilla and ricotta hotcake, mandarin segments, caramel, baked cheesecake, dutch cookie, honeycomb.”

“That’s a fancy pancake right there,” You say, handing Cloud the last piece of pansotti before reaching across to Melanie’s last slice, tearing it into thirds for Linus, Falkor, and Godzilla.

“Maybe pavlova? It’s a classic Australian pavlova with matcha, baked rhubarb, rhubarb syrup, and, ooooh, a custard cream. Damn. We should just order one of everything. It all sounds wonderful.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that!” Mel giggles out as the waitress comes over to ask about any ice cream desserts. “No thanks, we probably need to walk off what we just ate!”

“So,” Tania begins as the waitress goes to get the check. “We gonna walk for a bit then grab an ice cream cone while we’re out?”

“I wouldn’t say no to that!” You chuckle at Mel’s words, sliding the waitress your debit card when she returns.

“Or coffee.” You add.

“Or coffee. Man, I love me some coffee.” Mel replies with a grin, all of you standing after you sign the receipt, leaving a hefty tip for the waitress who had added some sausage on the side of the pasta for the scalies. “Let’s go find a coffee and ice cream place...then a park for the dragons.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Tania agrees, tucking Falkor into her oversized handbag as they exit the eatery, all of them taking a deep breath and headed down the street.

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When they checked into The Benson last night, Bucky was exhausted. Exhausted but hungry. The food nearby was outstanding, though both Rhodey and Tony both kept saying it wouldn’t be as amazing as breakfast. Sam had rolled his eyes, remarking that everything tastes “amazing” to Steve and Bucky who had grown up with boiled cabbage and then hadn’t eaten for nearly seventy something years.

“One thing they don’t need to be - food critics,” Sam had finished as they’d stepped out into the evening air.

“I had plenty of good food back in the day when I was in Italy and France, thank you very much Mr. Won’t Pass Up A Big Mac.” Bucky sasses back, shoving his metal hand into his pocket. He takes about four steps when he felt a tingle up his spine. His head moves subtly from left to right, scanning the people around.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice is soft, straightening up when he sees Bucky’s posture change. All of them are on alert now, but none sure what they’re looking for.

“Just had a feelin’...”

“Like a ‘we’re about to get sniped’ feeling or more like ‘deja vu’ feeling?” Rhodey queries as he watches a group of men cross the street.

“Like something important is gonna happen feelin’.”

“I think he means an innocent feeling or an about to be ambushed one, Sgt. Barnes.” Vision adds, his eyes moving from the building behind them to Bucky. Bucky sees a flash on white, low to the ground up the street a little, but it’s lost in the foot traffic soon after he spots it.

“Nothing malicious. Just an odd, but nice feelin’.”

“Next time, lead with that.” Tony claps him on the shoulder before moving in the opposite direction, talking about a steakhouse with the most flavorful clam chowder he’s ever had. Wanda pats his arm before trailing after Tony and Vision, a small smile gracing her face.

When they’re seated and drinks have been ordered, Bucky still can’t shake the feeling. The light conversation is interrupted by Tony’s phone.

“Uh huh. Yep. Oh really? Did you activate the satellite feed? Uh huh. Bout an hour or so, I would venture to guess. Okay. Yep. Let me know. Thanks, Bruce.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at Tony, who is eyeing Bucky with interest.

“Did you tell them?”

“I told Steve.”

“Well then, I’ll catch everyone else up.” Bucky manages a nod just before Tony begins. “After getting first-hand descriptions, photos, plus information from both HYDRA and SHIELD - I began looking for Bucky’s dragon. I started from the base where Howl disappeared then branched out from there. And then one day it hit me -”

“Here we go…” Sam chuckles out, bracing his elbows on the table as a waiter appears with their drinks.

“Where would a dragon who has seemingly lost its human partner go?” Tony pauses dramatically, taking a healthy sip of his whiskey. “To find it’s soulmate.”

“So you’re saying you found not only his dragon but his soulmate?” Rhodey takes a good swig of his beer. “Damn.”

“I’ve narrowed it down to two women, just from satellite footage, you understand. One in Scotland, one in California. I asked Bruce to keep an eye on them while we were gone. Apparently, our California candidate has disappeared. Nowhere in the state.”

“You think something happened to her?” Wanda questions, looking from Tony to Bucky, who has his jaw clenched harder than is probably healthy.

“Nothing bad.” He takes another drink. “I don’t think. Bruce is readjusting the feed to get her last location and that should take about an hour. So, by the time we finish our dinner, we’ll have an answer.”

“Excellent.” Vision smiles encouragingly at Bucky, who gives a tight-lipped smile back as a mouthwatering steak is set before him. Suddenly his hunger isn’t as all-consuming as it was before...

God, Doll, I hope you’re safe wherever you may be...I don’t know if I can take it if you aren’t…

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

There are quite a few people lingering outside the establishment and a few shopfronts down, settled on benches and scrolling through phones while they wait. It’s cooler than you had expected, the storm you’d encountered earlier in the week still lingering. In a few days it’ll be warmer, something the dragons will appreciate but you will not.

Proud Mary Cafe opens at 7am, but the dragons and Mel had other ideas, and you’d all gotten up right before 6. Mel and Tania had showered the night before, so you hopped in only to be interrupted by Godzilla howling for you through the door. You had to hop out to crack the door open so he could reach you, resulting in the hot water to peter out to lukewarm water in those two minutes. Tania had insisted on doing your hair, like she had many a time in college, letting you slap on some sunblock and then minimal makeup while she twisted and coerced your hair how she wanted. Herding the dragons downstairs and over to the park for some pre-breakfast walkies had woken you up better than the two cups of coffee Mel had already downed.

You’re about to enter the cafe when Godzilla shoots off down the street, you and Cloud both calling out after him. You shove your purse at Tania before tearing off after him, silently cursing his damn monitor-like body as his short but powerful legs carry him away. When you see him, he’s at the end of the block sitting on some poor man’s chest.

“I’m so, So, SO sorry!! He never does this!!” You wrap your hands around his thick black collar, attempting to tug the two hundred plus pound dragon off the man. “Bad Zilla!! Bad!! Off the nice man!!”

“Zilla? As in Godzilla?” You huff, still tugging, finally looking at the man standing beside you. Holy shit it’s Iron Man.

“Off.” The man grunts from under Godzilla, who happily obliges, his thick marble-looking tail wiggling so hard his entire body is moving along with it.

“Holy shit. You tackled an Avenger. Apologize!” You hiss at your wayward dragon, Captain Rogers helping the man up. And holy shit are you glad you said that while you could because of the specimen before you is drop dead gorgeous. Dark hair that’s hanging just past his shoulders with the most intense blue eyes you think you’ve ever encountered. He’s a good head taller than you with just enough scruff covering his cheeks to look almost sinful with his pink lips. Cloud’s sharp nails dig into your shoulder, kicking your mind back towards the fact that Godzilla just tackled the unsuspecting Avenger. “I’m very sorry, Sergeant Barnes. Godzilla has never done that before. He’s been acting off since last night. Must be all the time in the car for the last few days. I really am very sorry.”

“Told you it was a vacation - you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Shut up Tony.” Captain Rogers glares at the billionaire before smiling at you. You turn your attention back to Mr. Barnes.

“No need to apologize. I’m sure he just sensed me last night - like I sensed him.” The dots all suddenly align in your head, releasing your fingers from Godzilla’s collar.

“Oh.” You breathe out, tears coming to your eyes as you look down. “Why didn’t you say something?” He huffs, his tail wiggling dying down before snorting angrily at the super soldier’s boots.

“It’s gonna be that way, Howlite, pal?” Sgt Barnes kneels before the dragon, holding out his flesh hand.

“You said you would come back for me.” You say, causing those intense blue eyes to find yours, while you give him a small sad smile before letting your gaze drop to Zilla - Howlite. He swallows hard then nods, smiling at his dragon.

“I did promise you I’d be right back, didn’t I buddy?” Godzilla eased a little closer, Cloud switching shoulders so she can be closer to her mate, glaring at the former Winter Soldier. “And I meant to...I didn’t mean to...for things to happen like they did. But I’m glad you left. I don’t want you to see me that way, ever. And I don’t want to think about what they’d have done if they found you. You were the best, Howl. You did right and ran. I’m sorry you went seventy years without a home,” He swallows again, blue eyes shining with tears that are being fought back.

Godzilla - Howl, you mentally correct yourself again - moves closer to you, nudging your leg with his muzzle before stepping forward to rub his scaled face into James’s outstretched hand.

“Don’t worry, Sergeant Barnes. He wasn’t alone that long.” Howl is trying to shove his entire hefty body into his owner’s kneeling form, the super soldier’s smile is bright as he welcomes him, trying to wrap himself around the dragon in turn.

“Thank you.” He says gently, but with a light shining in his sapphire eyes. “Okay. Okay. I gotta introduce myself.” Howl happily disengages, his tail thumping happily against the pavement as James straightens up. His hand stretches out towards you, an unsure smile tugging on his plush lips. “James Barnes. Bucky...Bucky Barnes, actually.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You take his hand and both of you inhale sharply at the sensation of your skin touching for the first time. He hasn’t released your hand - not that you’re complaining - so you use your free hand to push a piece of hair out of your eyes. “We were about to have breakfast.”

“What a coincidence! So were we! Proud Mary Cafe?” Tony pipes up, sporting a huge grin.

“Um, yeah, actually.”

“Wonderful. We’ll all have breakfast together. Get to know each other.” Tony gestures towards where you’d run from, Bucky giving your hand a small squeeze before releasing it, his cheeks pink as you both realize you’ve just been staring at each other with dopey smiles painted on your faces.

Bucky walks closely beside you, although not as close as Howl who is pressed right up against his leg as he walks, your arms brushing against each other comfortably as you make your way to the cafe entrance...as if you’d walked like this a hundred times before. And it’s nice - this feeling of finding your soulmate, of finally being able to talk to them and to touch them. In fact, your fingers are nearly twitching with the need to touch him. Bucky holds the door open for you and then pulls your chair out for you when you’re all taken back to the now joined tables. This is all you could’ve asked for.

Plus you did have that week and a half left of vacation time...

Tagging: @moonbeambucky @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @marichromatic @blondecoffeecake @ourloveisforthelovely @whinywingedwinchester @feelmyroarrrr

#taras5kwritingchallenge #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #authoressskr writes #bucky barnes au #dragon!soulmate!au #marvel fanfiction

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jq37 · 5 years

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 7

Moms, Meltdowns, and Mayhem

Hello and welcome back to Fabian’s worst nightmare, already in progress!

We rejoin the Bad Kids who have linked back up the next day and are on their way to the library of the city Leviathan--The Compass Point Library. On the way there, they see the Crow’s Keep burning but Fabian, assuming it has to do with what happened to him, tells everyone to leave it alone.

Adaine questions why Riz hasn’t had any nightmares (Riz: In a way, my life is a nightmare) and the whole group goes into another round of Shadowcat speculation. Is she protecting Riz from nightmares for some reason? Why can Tracker and Garthy suddenly see her in the picture despite not having seen her irl or had any weird dreams? Is she masquerading as someone else?

Anyway, they reach the library which is the cool, cobbled together and largely stolen (to Fig’s delight) pirate-y library of Alexandria type place. They meet an old pirate wizard named Rollins with a book of pirate spells that Fig immediately wants to steal and Adaine wants to borrow (or steal, she’s flexible). They all sign up for Compass Point library cards and go up to the observatory to look for Ayda Aguefort.

In the observatory, they find a huge orange-yellow bird on a perch and this is the part of the recap where I have to inform you that Aguefort had not only banged a phoenix, he somehow managed to procreate with it. Meet Ayda Aguefort, the half-phoenix (shout-out to the anon from last week who called Ayda as Aguefort’s daughter). She’s got wings and arms, bird legs, a plume of red fiery hair, and eyes which are basically just fire.

Fig thinks she’s the creature Aguefort made for her for reasons I cannot begin to fathom. She tries to feed her but Ayda rejects the food, not wishing to be in anyone’s debt. Ayda is kind of intense, abrupt, and anti-social when they meet her. She’s fully is about to fly away instead of helping until Fabian yells that Garthy sent them and Adaine remembers she has the letter from Garthy asking her to help them. After some back and forth, she agrees to give Adaine the spell (which will take 6 hours to learn) for 150 gold. But these are the Bad Kids so, of course, we have several tangents before the plot goes anywhere, during which we learn Ayda is a divination wizard (like Adaine), she asks if her father has talked about her (Fig successfully lies that he has), and Gorgug spouts out some fortune cookie nonsense (“What is a telescope but a spyglass pointed at the stars?”) that convinces Ayda that he could be the greatest wizard of their age (Adaine does a spit take and Fig is loving it).

Adaine hits the books to learn the sending spell with Sandra-Lynn keeping watch while everyone else splits up suchly:

Fabian wants to go out to check on the Hangman but Kristen absolutely vetoes that. Buddy. System. Ragh agrees to go with him and she lays off. He tries to see what the damage on the Hangman is. Nat 1. As far as Fabian can tell, the Hangman is full dead. Not only that, Fabian is poor people sick which he isn’t used to at all. Ragh isn’t doing much better on the emotional front. He just started making progress with processing his emotions and now his mom might be dead. Saddest Hoot Growl ever (seriously, it’s heartbreaking). Cathilda comes in, loving as ever, with food and kind words and an old lullaby, but that’s not enough to stop Fabian from rolling another Nat 1 and gaining 2 levels of exhaustion (which means disadvantage on ability checks and speed halved). Lou, please burn those dice.

Kristen and Riz are researching the Nightmare King. They go into a religious studies section of the library and (on a 20+ check from Riz) find texts about a temple to a forgotten god in Sylvere (the forest of the Nightmare King). The god is never named in any of the texts which Kristen finds weird. Riz decides to steal the book and is able to do it, despite Kristen’s “help”. Later, Kristen cross-refs Riz’s info with her world religions book and, on a dirty 20, she finds with frustration that there’s a lot of information but none of it really matches up. The fairies, treants, and especially the unicorns all had mysterious deities but none of them really match with the forgotten god. [Note: Last time we heard about unicorns was in episode one and we learned that the last time people saw the great unicorn was the last time the NK showed up.] At the same time, it seems like there are elements of the god in all five of the cultures in the forest. Adaine checks and there’s nothing magic with the book so it’s just the contents of the book that are weird, not the book itself. Kristen thinks there might be a connection to her weird dream about not being able to draw the face of her god. Adaine wonders if Kristen might have been worshipping this unnamed god by mistake. Gorgug wonders if the god is erasing themselves (a theory backed up late when they talk to Aguefort).

Fig looks for information on cursed gems and (with a 19) she finds a good amount--no surprise in a pirate library. She finds a book called Breaking the Evil Eye in one of the forbidden sections and learns that it could be possible to planeshift into the gem, dispel magic from the inside and get rid of the trap, before breaking the original curse. She finds all of this out after she steals the book (disguised as Rollins). Planeshift is a level 7 spell though so Adaine has a while to go before she can learn it (she gets her first at level 13).

Gorgug asks the real Rollins for books about cheering up a friend. He’s brought to a small, dusty section of the library. Gorgug rolls a nat 1 on an insight check and thinks that Rollins must be messing with him. Rollins is confused because he super wasn’t. Adaine takes a break and uses this pointless argument borne from misunderstanding to steal his book. Dirty 20. Rollins instantly skelatizes. She hastily puts the book back. He comes back Wrong and in incredible pain. He begs them to take the book out and Gorgug does. Adaine peaces out to finish studying, leaving Gorgug to deal with her mess. Gorgug decides to keep looking at the friendship books. Even on a 5, he finds a secret door into a HUGE friendship library. Guided by his library card, Gorgug finds a book called Cheer Up Me Hearties. When he gets out, Gilear is being accosted for killing Rollins, but Gorgug is able to get them to stand down. Gorgug Thistlespring, winning pirate hearts and minds. They take the book and Rollins’ bones to get him put back together.

Adaine finishes up as Ayda comes to check on her. Ayda is about to make another quick exit but Adaine tries again to make friends with Ayda, this time by directly asking and offering to let her hold Boggy. Ayda is immediately obsessed with Boggy (and Adaine’s backpack terrarium AND the backpack she makes for him at Ayda’s suggestion) and extremely impressed with Adaine’s spellwork in manifesting Boggy. It’s a very cute scene and Adaine has made a useful ally. Ayda can’t believe she met the two greatest wizards of the age in one day. Wild.

Everyone regroups to call Aguefort now that Adaine knows Sending. He sends them back some more powerful magic so he can talk for longer than the 25 word response. Think of it as magic Skype. He very casually tells them that Ragh’s house is a smoking crater and his mom is super dead. He takes far too long to follow up with the information that, a long time ago, he hid Lydia’s real body under the school, made a clone of her, and used the Magic Jar spell to basically hook up her consciousness to the clone body (which held a fake demon shard). The clone body is what got destroyed. Lydia’s real body and consciousness are fine. Way to bury the lede dude! Upon being asked, Arthur says that he used to remember the name of the god of the unicorn but he forgot. Suspicious and troubling. He and Fig also renew discussions on the creature she ordered but never paid for. He says the cheapest option is a pentacorn for 30k gold (which sounds like a unicorn w/ 5 horns and pretty useless but I refuse to get dragged into this insanity, I am just the messenger here).

Aguefort leaves to deal with the situation at home. Meanwhile, Gorgug notices smoke again but he also notices that it’s on the wrong side to be related to what happened to Fabian. After giving Fabian and Ragh oranges to prevent scurvy--a tip from the pirate friendship book--he brings it up to Fabian who thinks it’s probably Captain Wicklaw making a power play and they should probably stay out of it. What? says Adaine. Nah, we should fight him. Yeah, says Fig. You deserve revenge! Fabian just wants to lay low so they can get their C+. Adaine is not here for that C+ and she’s not here for Fabian’s concerning attitude shift. None of the Bad Kids are. However, the cast is very here for absolutely roasting Lou for all of his choices by having their respective characters inadvertently reference every bad thing that happened last episode. When Adaine suggests that Fabian might be cursed, Fabian finally haltingly comes out with the entire story (which Lou has to laugh-cry himself through in one of the best scenes of the episode) and everyone interjects with comments that they (out of character) know will just make Fabian’s storytelling even more uncomfortable. It’s a very wild combination of very emotional (in game) but deeply funny (out of game). Like:

Ally (who knows good and well that Chungledown Bim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth): Did Chungledown Bim help you?

Zac (who also knows good and well that Chungledown Bim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth): Chungledown Bim probably saved you.

Murph (yet another person who knows good and well that ChungledownBim told Fabian he was gonna shit in his mouth) You know what we should do? We should go see Chungledown Bim.

Amazing.

Fabian finishes his recounting of the 20 car pile-up that was last episode by repeating his earlier opinion that they shouldn’t go after Captain Wicklaw because it will just end with all of them dead. Kristen tries to slap him back to normal and tells him to lose the Gilear energy. Led by Gorgug and Adaine, the gang tells Fabian that being Bill Secaster’s son isn’t the only worthwhile thing about him (in fact, it’s pretty annoying). He’s worthwhile all on his own. Tracker chimes in and says that she thinks Fabian might have some issues with depression so maybe their well intentioned efforts to get Fabian to buck up weren’t the best way to handle things. Adaine and Riz are skeptical that Fabian is like, capital D, Depressed but Tracker sticks by her read on the situation. The group eventually decides to at least check out what’s going on with the smoke but before they arrive, an interlude:

As they walk to Crow’s Keep, Cathilda walks with Fabian and Cathilda starts dropping information about herself and about how her own children died before Fabian was born and about how she sees him as a son--though she’s tried to keep the proper professional distance. She comforts Fabian on his bad day and then her eyes go full Terminator and she mentally buts Wicklaw on her “People I Need to Murder Today” list (more on this later).

When they arrive at the place where the smoke is coming from, they find that the Ramble (kind of a pirate meetinghouse/Courthouse) has been burned down. Jemina Joy is there and she lets them know that Wicklaw asked what was necessary to become the new pirate king. He was told that all he needed to do was get the crown from the former pirate king (because respect for/fear of Bill was the only thing keeping there from being a new king). He just burned down the Ramble to be a dick. Adaine damn near gets her ass beat by Jemina by arguing politics with her (her point being that she wants to install Jemina as Pirate Queen while Jemina is like, “I just keep this place from sinking. Lay off.”) but Riz, mindful of the fact that this is a time sensitive situation, takes off to Gibbety Square where the pirate king’s crown is (and where Wicklaw is headed).

They make it to Brennan’s latest battle mechanic: The Row and the Ruction.

This is the crazy, pirate bicameral legislative system. The Row is a huge fistfight (no weapons allowed--or really they are allowed but everyone will gang up on you if you use them) at ground level. It’s always in session and has been for 150-ish years. Above that, is the Ruction which is a fight with full weapon and magic usage alone. The idea is that you need enough support on the ground in the Row so you can use them to get up in the Ruction. It’s a king of the hill situation up there and if you can hold your position up there for long enough, you can make laws. Got all that? Good.

They get there just barely after Wicklaw and his men who haven’t yet entered the Row. Wicklaw starts talking mad trash to Fabian but his friends back him up. They give him back his sword, his eye-patch, and Kristen hits him with a Warding Bond (which means that he gets +1 to AC and saving throws if he stays close to her plus resistance to all damage and, more importantly, she takes all the damage he takes). Fig gives everyone Countercharm. And, to top it off, Cathilda shows up with in an all black, super-badass pirate uniform to say she’s gonna feed him his own freaking brains! Let’s goooooooo!

But, Wicklaw has some new allies as well. Three elves bamf in from Falinel (same people who Kristen felt scrying on them earlier) and they’re there to bring Adaine back, and it doesn’t seem like they’re gonna just ask nicely.

Detention

Adaine for Unnecessary Theft and (Accidentally) Killing a Man

Adaine was kind of on one this episode. Not only did she inadvertently kill* a man while stealing from him, Adaine also ghosted at the first sign of trouble, leaving Gorgug and Gilear to catch all the flak for her attempt at pulling a Fig. Bad form, girl!

*She probably didn’t technically kill him but she turned him into a skeleton and he called the pain upon reconstitution worse than death so let’s not quibble about the details.

Honor Roll

Cathilda for Being a Badass Mom

Oh man, oh man, oh man.

I’ve low-key been waiting for Cathilda to go full pirate since we learned that was an option and especially since Fabian got attacked because it was a pretty safe bet that was going to be her berserk button and boy did she deliver.

When did she have the time for a costume change? Is she that stealthy? Did she magic it on? Or did she just manifest the outfit on the power of her rage alone?

The scene where she says Wicklaw is gonna pay? Chills. Not only pledging to eat your enemy’s brains but also saying you’re going to feed him his own brains and describing exactly how you’ll serve it? So raw.

But I also have to shout out the non-murderous mom stuff she did this ep. The little talk she gave Fabian about no one being defined by their worst day was very sweet and good advice out of game too.

But honorable mention to Gorgug for being an absolute sweetheart all episode. Zac’s improv about pirates giving their friends oranges to prevent scurvy bodied me.

Random Thoughts

Some very useful posts from @jamiebluewind: Character Descriptions, Location Descriptions, Transcripts of Cathilda’s speeches from this ep.

During the initial discussion with Collins, we learn that the transmutation exchange rate is 50 Parrots=10 Bananas=1 Gold. How are bananas more complex than parrots?

Adaine: May we steal books?

Her later actions aside, I think it’s funny that Adaine’s first move is basically always to sweetly ask for what she wants and Fig’s first move is, “Gotta steal that book!” Adaine is like the most polite person in the group but also ready to fight 100% of the time. The role reversal in the Jemina scene where Fig was the one who asked an on point question and Adaine was the one who made it almost spiral into an actual fight was great.

I was just saying this re: Harry Potter in a different context but clearly marked but not blocked off forbidden sections of libraries are more a dare than a deterrent.

Fig as a horned parrot (done by Rollins for trying to steal his book) is adorable. Please somebody draw that.

I love that when they see the bird that turns out to be Ayda and Murph is like, “I don’t think that’s a bird,” Zac is like, “Yeah, Gorgug doesn’t know that.” Zac (like Travis as Grog in CritRole) has a real talent for playing dumb while actually being really smart.

“My principal scammed me?”

Brennan truly did not have to follow through on Aguefort saying he slept with a bird. He really, really did not have to but he was like, “Nope! I said it so it’s happening! This is happening!” I really wish you guys could have seen my face as I realized in real time that the madman was actually doing that.

Adaine to Fig who thinks Ayda is her creature: This is a full person.

“I like school.”/“You would.”

Lol at Fig trying to draw parallels between Ayda’s prickliness and her own behavior and getting absolutely shut down. “I think people think you’re really tender.” The running thing of Fig’s perception of herself as this standoffish loner being constantly reality checked by literally everyone she knows being like, “You tell us you love us literally every day,” is one of my favorite group dynamics. It’s even funnier because, besides probably Adaine and Fabian, the rest of the Bad Kids probably knew Fig (or at least had seen her around) before she started going through her emo phase. So they totally remember her in 8th grade wearing preppy clothes and carrying a unicorn backpack and listening to Fantasy Taylor Swift and all that.

All ep they were calling Kalina a cat and I was thinking, “I feel like—in game—that’s gotta be offensive.” And then Aguefort straight said it. Wild for it to come from him since he’s the craziest person ever but I’m glad it came up.

“You seem simple to me.”/“Thank God.”

Aww at Ayda asking if Aguefort ever talks about her. Brennan, you gotta stop putting little emotional traps into otherwise funny scenes. I can only handle so much!

The gang did some experimentation with the photo in this ep with these results: Ayda and Aguefort both couldn’t see Kalina in the picture. They also took a picture of the picture but that picture had the same properties as the original picture. Weeping Angel rules I guess.

There’s speculation in this episode about why Riz isn’t having nightmares. I have another question kinda on that topic. In episode 2/3, we see the lie/mirror/Baron thing that happened with Riz. And that was for sure super nightmarish. But it doesn’t match what happened to Adaine and Fabian. Both of them seem to have had more ephemeral experiences that quickly vanished. And they weren’t borne from lies so much as fears. Riz’s monster came from a direct lie and it didn’t seem to be a nightmare. It came out of the mirror and attacked not only him but his friends later. No one saw Fabian or Adaine’s nightmares besides them (although, that could just be because they got away). And no other lie-monsters have showed up as far as we know. I’m just wondering if there’s maybe something else going on or if it was a different NK follower who did that or just a different power of the same dude. Just something I wanted to note because it’s been bugging me a little and no one’s brought it up yet.

Cool quirk of the sending spell Adaine learned: Because it was modified by pirates, curse words don’t count towards the 25 word limit. What I immediately thought (and what Aguefort actually ended up doing more or less) was that you could easily send very long messages with, say, Morse code. Just designate one curse as a dot, one as a dash, and one as a space, and you’re good to go. It’d be slow, but totally workable.

Also, after watching Laura as Jester absolutely flying by the seat of her pants with every sending spell, it was wild to see the group take the time to carefully craft the perfect message.

I said two recaps ago that I wouldn’t be surprised if Gorgug multiclassed into a casting class soon and boy do I hope this episode means he’s gonna do it for real. Adaine’s total disbelief at Ayda’s interest in Gorgug’s wizarding potential was sending me.

Oh also. Ayda has forbidden Gorgug from reading any wizarding books so he doesn’t lose is totally uncomplicated mind. I guess he’s supposed to learn everything the savant way? Imagine Adaine diligently studying her wizard books, trying to master some complicated spell and Gorgug is like, “I woke up and I guess I can use Mage Hand now? Neat.” Absolutely maddening.

Besides Cathilda, Gorgug was the MVP in this episode. Dude has a knack for making friends that I think will eventually pay dividends.

Also, speaking of, everything Brennan said during the secret shelf section was so good as to sound planned, however, how could you predict that that was a thing a player was going to ask to find? Brennan is just always 7 seconds of prep time away from giving an elaborate and super specifically themed speech about friendship I guess.

Big ups to Kristen for not letting Fabian go off by himself again. Like, for the sake of the party of course but also the, “We almost lost you,” was sweet. She also helped buff him going into the coming fight with Warding Bond that means she takes all the damage he takes. I am SO glad they brought another healer with them because that’s such a risky move. Kristen is a LOT but she’s also very ride or die and all heart. I really love that the last time she used this spell it was on Gilear for a joke and now it’s getting used seriously. It’s a perfect establish existence of power to audience/bring back at plot relevant time setup. Improv storytelling is so inexplicably good.

Technically, to cast Warding Bond, you’re supposed to have matching rings with the person you’re casting it on so imagine Kristen blinged out with a ring for each party member and each of them having a corresponding one in case she needs to cast it on them.

Little bit concerned that Tracker still doesn’t know about Sandra-Lynn/Garthy. The longer it takes for her to find out, the higher the chance it blows up and becomes a Thing.

Fig: *Meandering philosophical question about why Ayda watches the stars*/Ayda: I study it so I can know where this big city is floating.

RIP to the Hangman. I don’t think he’s gone for good but it seems like he is for now. On my first watch, I thought that, on a 1, Fabian just fully thinks that the Hangman is gone but, the second time it seemed more like he’s just dead. Now, I’m not Brennan, but if I was in this situation, you know what I would do? I would have someone save the Hangman’s soul (or whatever he has instead of a soul) and store it in the Hangvan temporarily. Imagine how much he’d hate that. It’s full of potential for “roommate” shenanigans.

Is there anything stopping them from just, ramming the Row with the Hangvan? Like, I know it’ll get them ganged up on, but will they be able to do much against a full van?

Also, if/when they hold the Ruction, I wonder what law they’re going to try and make. They didn’t really go in with a plan (understandable under the time pressure) so they’re really gonna have to improvise something on the fly.

Also, I’m assuming Fabian stabbed the Hangman while he was asleep? I don’t think we were ever shown that scene, but Fabian must have been under some kind of compulsion since he woke up in the river (and the same happened to Ragh).

Aguefort casually mentions that he has many children and this episode proves that Brennan can and will back up every single crazy thing that comes out of his mouth, so I’m excited to see if there is a single Aguefort out there that isn’t crazy.

Oh, also, the acknowledgement that occasionally that phoenix is a child is appreciated because that was def a question I was going to ask. Squicky to say the least but I guess that’s how phoenixes work so what are you gonna do?

Ally needing to roll a 10, rolling, being happy, checking Kristen’s modifier, and realizing it’s a negative 3 for a total of 9 is peak D&D.

Fig as Rollins: Look at how fast I can run!

I love Fig thinking Adaine could plausibly have 7 level spells. She’s like, idk bro. She’s the eleven oracle. She cares about school. She could know this too. Who knows? Certainly not Fig who thought she could buy wizard spells to use as a bard.

“Please speak more enthusiastically on my behalf.”

“It’s my brain guys.”

Fig mind controls Gilear into believing in himself and he fails his save. I wonder if this is could be valid therapy technique in this world.

Aguefort mentions that a Wish spell can destroy a Magic Jar just fyi. That makes 3 pretty high level spells mentioned in this ep. Magic Jar is 6th level. Planeshift is 7th level. And Wish, basically the strongest spell in the game, is 9th level. We’re starting to deal with some serious magical mojo.

The whole thing with people in pictures that not everyone can see and memories that you know you once had but don’t anymore and information that should exist but doesn’t is hitting a very specific storytelling sweet spot for me.

This is a little meta-gamey to be thinking about but I’m kinda wondering, why sideline Gorthalax? Obviously, it’s a good plot hook for Fig and that might be all it is. But I’m lowkey wondering is there something Gorthalax knows or can do that would solve the plot in 30 seconds if he was around? Like, was he roommates with the Nightmare King in hell or something?

Kristen finds it weird that the god’s name isn’t written anywhere but I’m sure that’s gotta be fairly common. Or at least not unheard of. Like, I know in Judaism you’re not supposed to do that. Anyway, watch the great unicorn be the Nightmare King just for the Nightmare/Night Mare pun.

Adaine being on brand no matter the situation: Everybody shut up I have to do my homework!

The, “Do you want a friend?”/“Desperately.” interaction killed me.

“I don’t have any wizard friends.”/“I’m a wizard.”/(beat)/“I don’t have any wizard friends.”

Arthur cloned a woman, forgot to tell her, and then straight forgot. So business as usual from him.

Fabian’s, “Nooooooo,” with the rising intonation every time someone made an assumption during his story and he had to correct him was amazing. Also, “He told me he was going to shit in my mouuuuwth.”

Ragh, Fig, and Adaine all crying about their parental issues at the same time. This has been, like, the longest week ever. I wonder if the 7 Maidens are unpacking this much trauma on their quest.

“Absolutely timbered.”

Lol at Brennan dropping the cool pirate sending spell “curses don’t count” detail and then being told from off camera that he needs to keep it PG-13. But then Cathilda needed to go beast mode so, like, what can you do?

Another cool worldbuilding detail is pirate clerics just keep shrines to every deity they’ve come into contact with to hedge their bets like Beni from The Mummy.

I know Lydia was attacked on orders from Kalina but I wonder if they knew about/had plans for the demon shard too.

When Emily said she disguised herself as Rollins, I fully thought she was going to walk out the door the real Rollins was guarding and not go out the back door like she did. The idea of a back door didn’t even occur to me. I just thought we were in for some classic Axford insanity.

Riz: You’ve gotta get better at talking to kids.

Riz: This is real Gilear energy.

Kristen: We brought one Gilear. We don’t wanna make that mistake twice.

Everything that happened with Fabian was really funny because there’s nothing I love more in D&D than players having a good time dunking on each other but, in game, Fabian is really going through it. Fabian low key has mom friend energy so to almost die and then for all of his friends to jump into the exact fight that almost killed him (including taunting the dude! Adaine!) against his advice must be giving him a level of anxiety and dread that I don’t even have the words to describe. Like, now is not the time for him to digging into that because things are life or death. Gotta save your life before you can fix it. But he def needs to at some point. Too bad Jawbone’s not around for a quick mid-battle therapy sesh like he had with Adaine during prom.

Tracker suggested that Fabian might be depressed. I’m not an expert on depression. He could be depressed and, in any case, he definitely needs to see a therapist for a Lot of reasons. But having a breakdown because you saw 14 people die, almost died yourself, and were told that a man wanted to shit in your mouth less than 24 hours ago seems less like a sign of depression and more like the only rational human reaction.

Adaine calls the above, “a vaguely mediocre day”. Michael Scott Voice: Adaine you ignorant slut.

Also Adaine: You got that bike because you won it fair and square because we killed a lot of people.

This is the second time Adaine has said that Fabian’s lineage is actually the most annoying thing about him and these are the kind of tiny continuity details I live for.

Semi-relatedly, Fabian’s relationship with his parents v. Adaine’s relationship with hers is endlessly fascinating to me. Because they have such similar backgrounds but coming from, like, opposite directions of the same spectrum, you know? Can’t wait for those sweet, sweet parallels as we jump into her trauma! (What is D&D but group therapy interspaced with murder?)

Speaking of Adaine’s trauma, it looks like we’ll be getting to it very soon as those FBI Falinel operatives have shown up to force her (and the plot) back to Falinel. This is Concerning to me for two reasons. First off, remember the Aelwyn fight from season 1? Remember how annoying that was? Now imagine that times three and also 2 separate pirate brawls are happening. That sounds like a Bad Time for our kids. They’ve leveled up some and they’ve been known to make some very clutch battle decisions, but this is gonna be tough any way you slice it. This is like two entirely separate encounters at the same time. A small good point: I looked up the language for teleportation and it can only be used to transport a willing creature. So they can’t just bum rush her and poof out. But they could give her an ultimatum to make her agree. The second reason this Concerns me is that Adaine high key doesn’t want to work with/for Falinel and they know this. The fact that they’ve resorted to kidnapping (fun international law fact: when a government kidnaps someone, it’s called rendition) tells me that they’re done playing nice which opens up two options to them they might not have otherwise used. They could coerce Adaine’s consent to be their oracle by threatening her life/her friends’ lives. Or, more troubling, they could just kill her. I mean, she became the elven oracle when the old one died, right? So, if she died, someone else would get the job. Probably someone less troublesome to deal with. I doubt they’re gonna go straight for that because they seem to want her alive, at least for now. But it is a concern.

Of course, we’re assuming that what’s happening on the face of this is the whole story, but that’s not necessarily true. Iirc, all we heard was that they found the oracle and they were gonna bring her back to Falinel. For all we know, the elves could be working for Adaine’s mom. Of Adaine’s mom could be working with Falinel. Or she could be working with Falinel just as a way to get to her daughter. We really don’t know. The last person on this show that got kidnapped was Fabian and that was a friendly kidnapping. Anything is possible.

Something that struck me as a possibility: This fight seems like it’s gonna suck. There is a world where the ideal move for Adaine is to pull an Evy (from the Mummy--two Mummy refs in one recap, did not plan that, I just love the Mummy) and agree to go with the Falinel elves if they help them instead (or at least stop helping Wicklaw) with the faith that her friends will come rescue her. I doubt they actually care much about what happens in the government of this pirate junk city. I’m curious about how they ended up together anyway. I’m guessing the elves clued into what was going on while scrying on the group and decided an alliance might be useful.

Brennan about both Ally’s Applebees Reference and Fig using a Leviathan phonebook: That is nothing.

Shoutout to Fruzzinoid in the chat who said Ally’s alignment is chaotic-chaotic. Accurate.

I love the laughing-squawk that Brennan does for Ayda as much as I hate the fact that he made the Choice to spell it that way.

Truly, the entire scene where Lou is recapping the fight from last episode and he’s laughing uncontrollably but Fabian is clearly crying and he’s expressing both of those things simultaneously is beautiful.

A Fabian line that really hit but that I haven’t mentioned yet: “I probably have one follower running around. Never mind he’s my father’s just like everything else I have.” Ow. Such a deep cut but so off the cuff from Lou. As a writer, this show makes me so mad because that’s such a good line of dialogue that Lou just dropped out of his mouth like it was nothing. How dare he?

Another good line I didn’t mention before, this tie from Riz: “We all draw strength from each other. You went in without your crew. What’s a pirate without his crew?” Ugh, Murph. Who gave you the right?

This episode has made me extremely curious about what Cathilda thinks about Hilariel. Because she sees herself as Fabian’s mom--which she essentially has been in a lot of the ways that count since Hilariel has been mentally out to lunch for the past however many years. To be clear, I do think Hilariel loves Fabian. She just hasn’t really been present even though she’s been literally present. The way Cathilda phrased some of the things she said and the way she seems to talk about Fabian’s dad so much more than his mom makes me wonder if she doesn’t...resent isn’t the right word exactly. Maybe, disapprove? It makes me wonder if she doesn’t disapprove of Hilariel’s parenting choices more than she lets on.

Kristen’s, “Do you listen to music?” in the middle of actually useful questions for Ayda.

Rich people sicknesses include having eaten too much caviar or smoked a cigar for too long in case you’re wondering.

“You want an orange, pal?”

On a practical note, we have two more episodes to go until the show breaks for the year so prepare yourselves from now people!

Riz, Adaine, and Gorgug each rolled one Nat 20 apiece. Fig, Gorgug, and Adaine each rolled a Nat 1 (but Adaine presumably cancelled out hers rolling with advantage because of Boggy). Fabian, who is still living his worst life, rolled three Nat 1s. Tragic.

#fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #report card

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rosalind-of-arden · 4 years

Text

Sword and Pen Reread, chapter 9

It’s Dario time!

It’s really rather fun to watch the ex-Archivist’s habits of double-dealing and manipulation come back to haunt him in the ephemera. Here’s Callum Brightwell telling the bastard to go fuck himself. You know you’ve sunk low when Callum fucking Brightwell holds even the slightest bit of moral high ground over you.

How badly do I want to see @thegreatlibraryfangirl dissect all this Dario stuff? So. Fucking. Much.

Dario has a “favorite shop for little cakes.” Someone please write Dario buying little cakes for Khalila between Ink and Bone and Paper and Fire. It would be the cutest, fluffiest, sweetest thing ever.

Santi has soldiers following Dario. Lord Commander Santi is hedging his bets in case Dario isn’t so loyal after all. Dad Santi is worried about his baby.

“Even the normally predictable Niccolo Santi” is hard for Dario to predict right now. I think this is Dario’s less than 100% honest way of acknowledging to himself that he can’t actually fully understand Santi. Jess flat out admits to himself that he misunderstood Wolfe at first; Dario’s reaching similar conclusions about the adults, but thinking of it differently.

“But generations of Spanish diplomats had used his particular code, and as far as Dario knew it had never been cracked.” I’ll leave the Dario backstory analysis to Maz here. What I’m going to note is that we see later in the chapter that he shared this code with Santi. It was created by an anti-Library rebel. It’s been a Spanish secret for generations. And Dario gave it to Nic. That’s how loyal he is to the Library now. Or that’s how much he trusts Santi. Or that’s how weak his emotional ties are to Spain. Or some combination thereof.

“The only thing that had protected the ancient city was the legend, the glittering facade that covered rotten timbers.” This sounds so much like what Santi says to Wolfe in Stormcrow. Parallels between Santi and Dario. I’m really starting to want canon gap fic exploring how that relationship develops. Must consider ideas.

“Whatever others might think of him in the end.” “Boody, terrible, cruel work.” “Someone had to do it.” “Cowardly to avoid one’s duty.” Dario’s self image is very interesting to consider. He thinks of what he’s doing as necessary but terrible, and he expects others to hate him for it.

Dario is also very honest about his vices. Yes, he’s vain. No, he’s not sorry. But he does expect to be looked down on for it.

Timeline, ugh. “family blade he’d damaged this morning.” It is not actually possible for it to be the same day. I will take this as evidence that Dario is stressed and losing track of time.

Also, when did Dario get this spare Codex? Either this is the one he got back in Ink and Bone when his went missing, or he got it somewhere between Ink and Bone and the middle of Paper and fire when they left for Rome, or this is what he was doing during any of the windows of time when he’s unaccounted for in this book. Regardless, what was his original reason for having it? Paranoia? Family expectation that he be available as a spy?

He’s using a Codex the High Garda can’t track. Is he just worried about the Elites being able to track him? Traitors within Santi’s ranks (just how paranoid are he and Santi about that)? Wants to avoid giving away more than he has to about Spain’s spy operations even though he’s using them for the Library?

More Santi-Dario parallels: both express a desire to grab their partner and drag them off to somewhere safe and peaceful. And they both know Wolfe and Khalila would never agree with that.

Dario read Santi’s journal. And other journals. While he was a student. So... logistics. Did he break into Santi’s house? Seems unlikely - Wolfe and Santi would be too paranoid for that, and we know Dario isn’t that sneaky. I’m going to guess Santi kept a journal in his office in the High Garda compound. It’s plausible that Dario could get himself in there after hours. Also plausible that Santi would keep a journal there.

Other option? A bit more out there, but not impossible. Codex hacking. If Dario found out Morgan’s secret, Dario could ask Morgan to help him hack into journals. If Dario’s snooping, Dario could find out Morgan’s secret, maybe even before Jess did.

“He’d found a great deal more than he’d expected.” And what he found made him feel ashamed of what he did, and he never used the information. So, yeah, he found out about Wolfe’s trauma there. Dario might just know more about what Wolfe went through than Jess, but he’s kept quiet about it.

Spanish spies are all male. Here we have more villains prone to sexist hiring practices. Maybe evidence the rest of the world isn’t as progressive as Alexandria?

Russians make good weapons.

Eskander made an untraceable Codex for Santi. Some parents get wine or theater tickets for their kids’ partners. Eskander gets his kid’s partner spy tools.

Nic’s messy handwriting! He can read the code, but his handwriting isn’t good enough to write it.

Assuming Eskander’s helping out with the automata here, too? So he also gifts his son’s partner with murdered enemies. Clearly, Eskander is trying to make up for lost parenting time here.

Dario is bluffing when he tells the angry spies to write to the king, but he thinks there’s some chance, at least, that the king might side with him. Interesting.

Dario remembers the Black Archives when carrying books in a place that smells like Greek fire. Very interesting. At the end of one betrayal, he thinks of the end of another.

Santi will let the Spanish spies off the hook even though they were plotting against the Library. There’s a certain pragmatism there. He’ll be watching them, I’m sure, but he’ll call it a fair trade to use them and let them go.

This whole thing does look like some good strategy on Santi’s part. He’s good at his job.

Dario thinks he can drink away the trauma of seeing so much violence. But not the trauma of Santi seeing him as a deceiver. For all that Dario takes pride in his ability to do what needs to be done, he’s conflicted. He doesn’t like what he is, and he really doesn’t like others knowing what he is. There’s a lot of room to explore this in post-canon fics, I think.

This will be useful for my post-canon Wolfe&Dario fic, I think. His reaction to Santi knowing his capacity for deception may be similar to his reaction to Wolfe seeing his capacity for violence.

#the great library #sword and pen reread #long post

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spacebrick3 · 5 years

Text

Evenfall University: Ring of Fire Part 4

Part 4 of Mira’s adventures at Evenfall! And things are starting to take an interesting turn, here in @note-katha‘s university, and who knows where it will lead them…

The problem with grand proclamations like “changing the world” is that there’s a lot of groundwork. Everybody knows the leaders of the revolution, but few the ones who build the stage. “So…how do we find the First Circle?” Mira asks awkwardly, waiting outside her dormitory (and missing her class). “I mean, it’s not like we can just go up to a teacher and ask.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sam says, “but…generally better not to. Keeps them at a distance, at the very least. But they rely on their warnings more than any actual security - trust that we’ll listen to the authorities of the school, mostly.”

“What does that mean? Their authority’s pretty solid if there’s no information,” she says, glancing sideways with a frown. The early-morning sunlight shines strangely off of her, a faint translucence to Sam’s skin. Or maybe it’s just a holdover of her aura, the lighter gold over the darker brown giving it that strange effect. “I mean, no one has to guard any of the scrolls from Alexandria because they’re all gone - have they done the same here?”

Sam motions for Mira to follow, one corner of her mouth ticking upwards into a smirk. “No. They’re still in the library. Just sitting there, on the shelves. After all, they wouldn’t destroy the information that helps them, would they?”

“And…we can just pick them up?”

“No, they’re restricted. There’s a spell - it manipulates you, tells you that you don’t really want the books. People turn away and they’re convinced it’s their own reasoning, and they have no idea. After all, put up a wall and everyone will want to break in - make them think they have a choice, and they’ll willingly give up their own knowledge.” She grimaces. “Insidious, really, prying inside your head.”

It doesn’t sound good. She’d like to think she wouldn’t be affected, that she’d be strong enough to break through such a spell, but she can’t even convince herself of that. If it’s even real. Everybody speaks of it as though it’s real, because for them it defines their life, and can she risk otherwise? Can she take the risk of venturing blind into something she knows nothing about?

She doesn’t know. “So…how do we get the books, then, if we can’t even…keep wanting them?”

“Oh, leave that to me,” Sam says. “Because it’s Third Circle magic, manipulating mind and emotion. And that’s a certain speciality of mine - but I do have to be careful, to make sure they don’t know we’re there.”

“You think there’s a warning system or something?”

“I know I’d set up something if my magic was tampered with,” she says with a shrug. “So…Mira. So far you’ve not lent yourself to stealth-“

Stealth. Right. “Yeah. I’ll…leave that one to you, actually.” Mira shakes her head, rubbing her forehead with a rueful grin. “There’s a reason I’m here at Evenfall, a reason it was a good idea for me to be here and not at some normal university. And that reason, or at least all of it you’ll get, is a distinct lack of stealth on my part.”

That gets her a raised eyebrow, but no comment. “I…see. Um.”

“I mean, you don’t have to worry or anything,” she adds, “it’s not like it even made the news. And I’m not planning on trying again, obviously, plus there are less abandoned NASA workshops - well, I thought it was abandoned-“

For whatever reason, that doesn’t seem to reassure her. She pushes open the door of the library, glaring at the single student sprawled in the corner. “Right. The books should be upstairs, on the third floor, directly opposite from where we are now. I assume you know the structure of the library?”

“I’m still new here, Sam.” She looks around, at the old stone drilled into to let cables snake in and out. Lights glow in the ceiling, the filaments gaining the quality of all old libraries - bright, white light fading to yellow, with just enough flicker to make them appear aged. Books covered in velvet and gold, or at least the important ones, others tucked into shelves or stacked on top of them. “I’ve literally never been here before.”

“Oh, yes. Of course. Each floor gets quieter, as you go up - fairly standard, although it’s imbued with its own magic. Fifth Circle and Third Circle, mixed to restrict Voice and Emotion, as well as boost Mind. In a sense. There are several layers, all overlaying one another, and it will be a challenge to break one and not the other.”

You know in movies? When the scientist character says a bunch of what’s supposed to be ‘fancy scientific formulas’ and is really just a bunch of words jammed together? And all the other characters stare blankly and the one Action Hero™ asks ‘speak English’ to general laughter?

That’s what just happened, except with magic. “I…okay…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam says. “It’s not your problem. I’ll be the only one heading upstairs, and the only one who has to deal with this. There shouldn’t be anyone in the top floors, not this early. It’ll be your job to keep them out.”

“What?”

“Mind work is delicate, and what we’re doing is very against the rules. If you’ve been breaking into workshops and you’re not in jail, your lying skills are probably better than your stealth. So lie.” Sam picks a book from the shelf, turning it over in her hands. “Make up something, I don’t care what.”

“I thought you said no one was here.” Mira looks around, noting the exactly one (1) student. “I mean, a lot of this is available online - just being on campus wifi gets people access to papers and stuff. We should be fine.” Except in her dorm, of course, where the wifi runs at the speed of a slug. At 1 fps (frame per slug).

Sam blinks, rubbing her head. “Right. Computers, of course. Then…come with me, kay? You’re still lookout.” The stairs spiral up the outside of the library, glass strips running down their length. They climb together, half in sunlight and half in shadow, Sam frowning at a name scratched into the wall. “That wasn’t here the last time…”

The scratch is in jagged script, the sharp edges of something carved with a knife. Into stone, somehow. Remember Alian, it reads, tucked away in the corner. “Do..you know an Alian?”

“No. Something probably happened to them, though, or it wouldn’t say ‘remember’,” she says, sighing. “Come on, we’re almost there. Can you feel it?”

Her voice is dropping, quieter with each step. “I think so, yeah,” she says, and she’s whispering. “How quiet do we get? Or…are forced to get? Does it quiet us just…all the way?”

“Not quite,” she whispers, “for the people who talk to themselves while studying. But close.” The landing onto the third floor is lined with silver, instead of gold, a colder blue replacing the warm light of downstairs. It’s hardly more modern, with embossed panels set into the wooden wall and shelves of dark mahogany, but certainly colder.

Colder, and hostile somehow. “Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” she says, resting a hand on the door. “It doesn’t feel - I don’t know. But I don’t think-“

“You’re not going any further,” Sam says. “It’s already affecting you, here. Just watch the stairs, make sure nobody gets up here. Say there’s, uh, maintenance or something. Bookkeeping that cannot be disturbed, by even the slightest motion.” She sighs, tapping out a asymmetric rhythm on the wall. “Now…have they changed anything?”

“You’ve been here before?”

Sam doesn’t answer. “Mind magic is a tricky thing. Sensitive, see. It’s difficult to manipulate from here, no matter what you do. Maybe…it’s a spiderweb, and so any motion on it will disturb the web, no matter how careful.”

“So…what will you do?”

She gives a small smile, though there’s something unrecognizable behind it. “The perks of not being a first-year. There’s some…uh, manipulation of Mind magic you can accomplish. It’s difficult, and dangerous, but it’s the only way to get past. It’s built for a purpose, a specific purpose - to change things in one way, and it can be bypassed.”

And we’re back to the, uh, magical jargon. “That’s not an answer. I asked what you’d do, not how you’d do it.”

“Impatient.” She takes a breath, staring out across the shelves. “Mind magic doesn’t fight itself. It can’t, or it would tear the web apart from the inside. And magic is part of you - you’ve seen the auras, and all it takes is…letting go, I suppose. Separating mind and body, or just putting one above the other.”

“Still not an explanation.”

Sam glares at her. “Just watch.” She takes a breath, then fades, the floor of the library visible through her. The parts of her in the sunlight are barely there, only a faint outline of gold. “Look. Mind over matter, quite literally.”

“I-“ Mira shakes her head, waving a hand through where she stands. “You…feel like syrup?”

“Don’t do that!” she whispers, swatting her hand away. “Would you want someone waving their hand through you?”

“How - what-?”

She makes a show of brushing herself off, still irritated at her. “It’s like…learning to swim, I guess. That’s the only way I can think of it,” she says at last. “But I’ve heard it’s different for everyone who tries it.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, still hopelessly lost.

“When you first learn to swim, you - you’re scared,” she says, shrugging. “You cling to the shore, barely in the water. That’s how most everybody is, clinging to the world. And it’s terrifying to let go, but…if you can…well, if you can let go of the shore, of the world, then…” She gestures at her transparent self. “But stay in shallow waters.”

That’s ominous. “What’s…what’s in deeper waters?”

“Nothing’s there,” she says darkly. “Nothing at all. If you’ve ever been to the sea, you know how it drops off, how the shore falls hundreds of feet to the ocean floor. You stay in shallow waters because otherwise you drown, and there’s no way back. Those are the realms of…of ghosts, of spirits, mostly, the minds who’ve lost all connection with the world.”

“But you still have one.”

Sam scowls. “Yes. Although it’s still scary, letting go. There’s a reason people cling so desperately to the world, and there’s always that fear, that I’ll never be able to get back. That I won’t hold tightly enough to the world and I’ll be lost, falling back into-“ She sighs, breath shaking a little. “Never mind. Just keep watch.”

“I’ll do that.” Sam strides into the library, vanishing as she walks into the sunlit patches. She leaves no footprints, no trace that she’s ever been there. “Wait-“ Mira whispers after her, though it’s much too quiet. “How are you going to carry the books-?”

She’s gone. “Right, then,” she mutters to herself. “…what more can the First Circle give us? She can - she’s like, psychic or something, and Ardis - that is his name, right? - can control time. Apparently.” Mira can’t get closer to the shelves, her own fear that she doesn’t belong there keeping her away.

Except it’s not her own fear, is it? It’s somebody else’s, manufactured and put into her own head. And she can’t escape it. Mira tells herself it’s not real, and that doesn’t make it any less so. “Get out of my head!” she whispers at it, pacing back and forth on the landing, and it doesn’t.

Maybe that’s what the First Circle does. Maybe it doesn’t do anything but protect her from magic.

It takes exactly 40 minutes and 11 seconds for Sam to return, according to her watch, or enough time for the sun to burn off the last of the fog as it rises. She has a stack of books in her arms, the pages faded to yellow and with dust still thick on the covers. “I got the ones I could,” she says, handing Mira the stack. “The ones that will help you most, anyway.”

“How do you know - how can you tell?” she asks, brushing the dust off one of the titles. The Inner Circles of Magic, it reads, A Comprehensive Guide to Exploring the Second and First Rings. The author is unreadable. “What will be useful and what’s not, I mean?”

“I have my ways,” she says, wincing as she becomes (mostly-, although Mira doesn’t mention it) opaque again. “Probably best to leave, and quickly, too. Come on, you probably already want to-“

She’s not wrong, and Mira hates it. “So what now? We have the books, but…”

“That’s the easy part,” Sam says, shaking her head. “Magic is an art, and - well, any closer to believing in magic?” she asks, almost resignedly.

Yes. “No.”

“Great. Time for you to become an artist, with colors you can’t see.”

Tag list: @lady-redshield-writes, @no-url-ideas-tho, @ratracechronicler, @ken-kenwrites, @ravenpuffwriter, @cirianne, @lonelylibrary @maxbeewriting, @endlesshourglass, @thebloodstainedquill, @anip-ocs, @note-katha @dreamwishing, @incandescent-creativity, @fatal-blow, @danafaithwriting, @wri-tten, @writingwhithotchocolate, @katekyo-bitch-reborn, @klywrites and @dogwrites!

(and if you liked this, don’t forget to check out Evenfall University at @note-katha, since it is actually their amazing story and all!)

#evenfall university #ring of fire #writing #uh….i don't really know what i'm going to say about this bit #things happen #yeah #note-katha

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jupiterjames · 6 years

Note

Ficlet prompt: Destiel in the Disney AU of your choice (a Disney franchise, or Disney world, or whatever)

“I think I hate this place,” Dean grumbles, stumble/hopping as he lifts his foot up. What the hell is on the bottom of his shoe this time? Gum? Ice cream? Micky Mouse’s spooge? The world may never know.

“I love this place,” Castiel says. He’s not smiling. He’s not particularly emoting at all. But there is a certain… lightness in his steps as they tromp through Disney World. It’s sweltering hot, considering Florida in July, but angel’s don’t sweat, so Castiel isn’t bothered. It’s literally shoulder to shoulder down Main Street. Dean’s having a hell of a time keeping his weapons hidden, though in place like this, a bronze sword probably seems like part of the magic. I sorta is, anyway.

“Yeah, well, let’s just figure out where those fucking harpies are and get outta here.”

Castiel stops in the middle of the teeming river of people to take Dean firmly by the shoulder. “Dean. We must protect this place at all costs.”

“Dude,” Admonishes, coming to an irritated standstill. The crowds are making him jumpy. First of all, this isn’t the fucking... I dunno, Library of Alexandria, or something. It ain’t sacred ground. Second, there’s hardcore security, literally everywhere. This is gonna be hard enough. Let’s just...” he winces as he’s shouldered out of the way by a rush of about ten kids. He sighs. “Let’s just keep moving.”

Castiel plods along with him towards the sunset. “It feels like sacred ground,” he mutters, almost too softly to be heard by Dean.

Dean figures that their best chance of getting towards the artificial lake where the harpies have taken up residence, is during the parade when most eyes would be on the fireworks and other bullshit. Of course, Castiel has assured them that he’ll be able to zap them out of there if worse comes to worst. Which it probably will since they’re at Disney World.

It’s too risky to wait until the park closes. The chance of being discovered is too high. Unfortunately, the best time is probably during the fireworks display. No one would notice a bit of extra noise. But since there have been an inordinate amount of inexplicable injuries in and around the park for a touch of bad publicity, they will be watching for anyone or anything out of place.

They’ve broken away from the crowds, closer to the bungalows for the rich and richer to stay in that abut the lake, when Castiel puts a staying hand on Dean’s shoulder. He points towards the far edge of the park’s property where the lake roars away into a drainage system surrounded by tall grass and reeds. “There,” he says.

“Let’s go.”

“Get ready,” Castiel advises. “They’ve seen us. They will be quick to fight.” He slides his hand up to Dean’s shoulder, and in half a blink, they’re sloshing into the retention pond.

Dean has only a second to lament the dirty water pouring into his shoes, when Castiel growls and grabs one of the gray winged humanoid beasts with a squelch. He rips the wings from its back with a snarl and yells, “Dean!”

In a smooth movement, Dean swings around instinctively towards Castiel’s voice, goring with his bronze sword. It hits true to the harpy’s liver, killing it.

Castiel swings around again and gasps loudly while grabbing for another harpy. For a moment, Dean thinks the angel’s been hurt, but Castiel’s eyes are turned upwards. “The fireworks!” he breathes, crushing the harpy’s skull. “They’re beautiful!”

Dean rolls his eyes, stabbing the two that Castiel rips the wings from simultaneously. Through the carnage and blood, the crackling blues, greens, golds, and reds sparkling across Castiel’s silhouette.

The nest is cleared in minutes, though Castiel keeps his gaze on the sky at all times. Dean joins him, leaning heavily on the hilt of the sword, winded and bloodied.

Blindly, Castiel reaches out and takes the hunter’s hand. “It’s better than magic,” he murmurs, transfixed. “Thank you for taking me here with you.”

Dean sighs. chuckles breathlessly. “I’ve had worse dates,” he admits.

Castiel smiles in response.

#unforth-ninawaters #fics with lime #drabbles with lime #prompts with lime

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margridarnauds · 6 years

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angel-starbeam replied to your post: Gotta love how Tumblr buys into Victorian...

Elaborate please.

I’m not sure if I’m ultimately elaborating or just tossing word vomit into the void here, but here goes nothing!

Obviously, this is dealing more with the specific phenomenon that I’ve noticed re: posts about Europe being essentially unwashed savages while everywhere else was going through some sort of golden age. Which! Around the world, people were doing cool things. Obviously, discussing the events of, say, the Golden Age of Islam or the achievements of the Aztecs and Mayans are important, especially when it comes to combatting Eurocentrism in the study of history.

But, at the same time, there’s absolutely no need to do that while throwing the Middle Ages under the bus, and it’s right next to the idea that somehow all knowledge of the ancient world died after some singular burning of the Library of Alexandria and oh, how painful, we all had to go through the DARK AGES. (Which. No one dealing with the field calls it “The Dark Ages.” Because it wasn’t.)

Sanitation wasn’t AS GOOD as practiced in, say, the times of the Romans, depending on where you are in Europe and in what time during the nearly thousand years that we call the Middle Ages you’re situated in. (I repeat: A THOUSAND YEARS. THE ENTIRE CONTINENT. Like, that would be the same as lumping people in the present with people who lived in the 11th century and not taking into account regional diversity. It’d almost be like, you know, completely generalizing a 3000 year old civilization. I mean, who would even do that?)Because the Romans had aqueducts all over the place and were meticulous about their cleaning. (Though they also used a little sponge on a stick to wipe themselves with after going to the bathroom.) But, if you’re in one of the Nordic countries during this time, you’re going to have a wash day, and we know they washed their faces every morning. (The idea that they cleansed themselves without washing the bowl is something that has been heavily debated, but the general consensus I’ve personally seen is “they washed it in-between cleanings”.) We have Anglo-Saxon writers talking about the Vikings and essentially going, “Stupid Norsemen with their fancy hair and their wash days and their jewelry, looting our country, running off with our women. What do they have that we don’t?”

Around the rest of Europe, we know that the common people had communal baths and, for the nobles, they would have their own individual baths, occasionally using it as a source of bonding (much like the Romans did, when they would conduct business together). We get a lovely account of Charlemagne that says that, “he would invite not only his sons to bathe with him, but his nobles and friends as well, and occasionally even a crowd of attendants and bodyguards, so that sometimes a hundred men or more would be in the water together.” And I’ll take this one moment to also mention that one of the most famous legends of the Middle Ages, Melusine, literally revolves around a woman being left in the privacy of her bath as one of the terms of her marriage (which is then broken. Which then causes problems. Because you don’t break prohibitions like that when it comes to marriages in medieval literature. It never ends well.)

And, of course, since we’re not just talking hygiene, but a general outlook on culture, which is such a BROAD category as far as talking “sophistication” and “advancement”, I will remind whoever might be willing to read this that medieval manuscripts and stained glass windows are two of the things we IMMEDIATELY spring to when we think “The Middle Ages” and both of them are time consuming, meticulous activities. To give a hint: As an amateur stained glass artist, I can spend probably about 10 hours non-stop on a project of about 40-60 pieces, supposing I already had the glass on hand and a pattern in place. That involves cutting the design out, tracing it in the glass, labelling it, cutting the glass out, getting it sawed to size, foiling it, and then sautering it. The pieces you see in a cathedral, like at Chartres?

Those are THOUSANDS of pieces, most of which was made in an approximately 35 year period from about 1200-1235. Like, Chartres originally had 176 glass WINDOWS. I can’t even begin to imagine it. And, also. You’re working with GLASS. AKA “One wrong move and you will feel the pain of a thousand cuts.” Ask a stained glass artist. They’ll have stories. And when I’m working, I’m working with the advantage of modern equipment to cut the glass out. And the one thing they did at Chartres that I still can’t do? Painting. So, not only did those pieces of glass have to be perfectly cut and put into place, but THEN they had to be painted. The folds in the robes, the faces on the angels and the saints, the detailing along the edges...all that stuff is painted on. And with a lot of that glass? We can’t replicate those colors anymore. And, I mean, Chartres wasn’t the ONLY cathedral with stained glass in Europe at the time, just probably the best surviving one of the group.

And, of course, in terms of manuscripts...

So, yeah, Europe was a “cultural backwater” that was creating breathtaking works of art that took DECADES to create. And, of course, all of this relies on the idea of “Europe” and “The rest of the world’ being isolated which SURPRISE they weren’t. Like, you’ve got Greek and Roman books going to the Middle East, then being translated, then having Arabic natural philosophers working with the ideas and improving on them, then them being brought back to Europe and translated, usually into Latin because it was the language of the academics and the learned AKA the only ones who were rich enough to buy this type of thing. You’ve got Arabic writers traveling around the place, writing about what they’ve seen, like Ahmad ibn Fadlan. And of course up until Isabella and Ferdinand commit genocide during the Reconquista, you’ve got the Moors in Spain. So, while the majority population of Europe was what we’d call white today, to just lump it all together into a homogenized group to prop up another location really only serves to, for want of a more academic term, shit on EVERYONE ELSE who was in Europe at the time. Like, it’s not just inaccurate, it’s buying into the idea propagated by white supremacists that the face of the Middle Ages was a bunch of white men.

Alright, now that I’ve probably spent way too long on this part of the rant, onto the “Victorian propaganda”. And, really, I’m being overly harsh on the Victorians here, because the Renaissance (lit. “Rebirth) and the Enlightenment’s also to blame and really set the stage, posturing themselves as the successors to Greek and Roman thought after centuries of darkness. “Enlightenment” - “Dark Ages”, the idea is kind of in the words used to describe them. Which completely ignores the long, long history of natural and other forms of philosophy in the Middle Ages that made it possible for Voltaire, Descartes and co. to so much as wipe their noses. The Middle Ages becomes a time of religion and superstition, not like our time, oh no, we’re above that. We’re Free Thinkers™. This is also where we get the idea of “Gothic” architecture being used to describe medieval architecture, because OH MY GOD HOW BARBARIC. IT’S NOT GREEK. (Yes, they were the equivalent of those fifteen year olds who post melancholy comments on YouTube videos of 60s songs about how “Teens today don’t understand REAL music.) And what’s the classic setting for the 18th century gothic novel? A medieval castle or an abbey, filled with leftovers from the barbaric past, focusing on heightened emotions and the supernatural, as opposed to the focus on reason that characterized the era, especially as exemplified by the French Revolution which attempted to turn rational ideals into political reality. (Whether they succeeded or not, and if they didn’t then WOULD they have if not for *insert factor here* is another discussion altogether and would probably cost me my life.)

That being said, the term would become popularized during the 19th century, so I’m rolling with that.

But, the Victorians brought one MAJOR development that would kind of determine how ideas of race and civilization would be dealt with for many, many years, Darwin’s On the Origin of Species. And, as soon as the book hits, people start talking about it, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And here, we’re definitely dealing with the UGLY.

“This aggressive colonial competition at the end of the century drew support from supposedly scientific and biological ideas about racial superiority and inferiority. Darwin’s Descent of Man suggested a graduated evolutionary chain of development. It seemed to sanction ideas of ‘primitive’ peoples supposedly lower on the evolutionary scale than the white Europeans who were invariably presented as the model of evolved civilisation.”

Now, obviously, this idea was used first and foremost to deal with race. BUT if white Europeans are more “evolved” then they have to have evolved from something, and the Middle Ages were convenient to this image, especially when the Enlightenment had already done a decent job of beginning to distort the record. If humans were animals, descended from primates, then, by this manner of thinking, the history of humanity is evolution in action, with the weak being weeded out by the strong and the humanity of centuries past being obviously less involved than the humanity of the present. As Lewis Henry Morgan wrote, “It can now be asserted upon convincing evidence that savagery preceded barbarism in all the tribes of mankind, as barbarism is known to have preceded civilization.” It’s a very convenient, nice little ladder that they’ve created there, and it’s one that conveniently throws anyone who’s not a white Victorian male under the bus.

I wouldn’t say that Darwinism necessarily created anything NEW in terms of dealing with Middle Ages, but it did provide confirmation to Victorian males that they were The Pinnacle of Evolution and that the human race is moving in a grand new direction that will eventually eliminate Lesser Societies (gee, I wonder how THAT theory could be used and abused.) And, of course, with Darwinism, you have the debate between science and religion, the Middle Ages being heavily associated with religion...it’s a mess.

However, in all fairness to the 19th century, these ideas weren’t NECESSARILY the only belief in vogue, as some people also viewed the Middle Ages through a highly nostalgic lens, looking back at a simpler time, before the Enlightenment. “Many of the qualities the Romantics saw in the period – elevation of faith over rationalism; devotion to hierarchy, tradition, and authority; emphasis on communal rather than individual artistic and intellectual achievement – were the same as those recognized by Renaissance and Enlightenment thinkers, only viewed in positive rather than negative terms, prompted by rejection of modernity, religious revival, or some combination of the two.” This was a period of time that was still dealing with the CATACLYSMIC affects of the French Revolution a century before. Which is also why so many white supremacists like to wank over it. Because it reminds them of a happier, nicer time with strict gender roles and little cultural diversity. (NEWSFLASH ASSHOLES: THAT ISN’T WHAT HAPPENED. AT ALL. FUCK OUT OF MY FIELD. but i digress)

(Okay, technically this comes from 1900, so not a 19th century painting, but STILL Victorian.)

Which also gives you a harsh BACKLASH, as people start to rebut that by painting the Middle Ages as a period where science was sacrificed to religion, most notably in the White-Draper Conflict thesis, which, suffice it to say, is INSANELY simplistic. And you’ve got people like Auguste Comte who expressed a high regard for both the Middle Ages AND Darwin in his creation of Positivism, which earned him some amount of scorn, such as when Auguste Blanqui wrote, “These blind systematisers’ mania for progress regardless of what happens even leads them to indict, as a reactionary movement and negative impulse, the renaissance of Greco-Latin letters, and according to them this victory over the loathsome works of the Middle Ages was a backwards step.” You’d almost get the idea he didn’t like it. This is also, incidentally, where we get the idea that everyone in the Middle Ages was rolling around, believing that the Earth was flat. Because of course everyone in the Middle Ages was a religious nut. (Note: I’m saying this as an atheist.)

So, really, there’s a heavy amount of religion VS science, romanticism VS rationalism, etc.

Really, and this is my own personal opinion/open-ended question that I’m not really sure can ever be answered, any take on “civilized” and “uncivilized” or any real barometer for advancement of cultures is going to be flawed, because ultimately what are you using as your yardstick? Are we really that far up the imperialism ass still that we’re judging historical cultures by how closely they resemble us, with everyone else being “primitives”, or, to use the language of the God-awful Tumblr post, a “cultural backwater”? Does it have to be in ALL areas, or just in a few? If a civilization practices human sacrifice on a massive scale but builds some awesome monuments, do they get the “more civilized than the others” stamp? Hey, at least they had running water! What about if they give rape the death penalty, but only if it’s a free woman? What standards of living do they have to have to make the cut? Is there a minimal limit for monuments, and if so, how are we judging what a monument is?

We all want to show that our pet favorites are “advanced,” that they did marvelous things so much better than everywhere else, but I’m not sure anyone’s willing to have the conversation on what “better” or “advanced” mean in this instance.

Tl;dr: The Middle Ages were not as filthy as they’ve been made out to be, they DID produce cultural artifacts of great beauty, and do we really want to use descriptions of “cultural backwaters” and “progress” and “advancement” that rely heavily on notions popularized during the 18th and 19th centuries as a means of justifying imperialism? Especially when said notion promotes the idea, POPULARIZED BY WHITE SUPREMACISTS, that the Middle Ages in Europe were populated by a homogenous white population? Like, is that the hill you really want to die on, Tumblr? Is it really?

#angel-starbeam #long post #i have no idea whether any of that makes sense or whether it was just incoherent babbling #and I'm half-remembering a lot of this from the History of Science classes I took

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