#no one there would recognise the doll by it's appearance - but that's ok because it was never meant for them

[somewhatsentientspellbook]

I can imagine that after seeing the events of Downfall, Laudna would want to make a doll for Pelor like she did for Ashton

"Dolls are for children, and you are a child"

It'd just be a little reminder for the Dawnfather that Ayden had been forced to grow up too soon because of countless tragedies, one after another

That's probably something that Laudna could relate to

[slasherhaven]

I would be in your dept forever if you wrote something with Brahms and Reader with a size kink 😱 Like a non-established relationship were he first reveals himself and notoces how shes blushing and gets quiet all of sudden when he towers over her because of his height 👀 and maybe.. Something happens between them? Totally up to you! If youre not comfortable writing this its totally ok! I love your work

Brahms Heelshire revealing himself to his Future S/O for the first time, discovering they have a size kink (some NSFW):

You had been the Nanny of Brahms for a little while now, caring for the doll as if it were a real child. At first it was an act, it was just a doll after all, something to keep yourself in a routine. But then it started to show...interesting characteristics.

It would move on it's own and leave little notes for you. At first you thought you were going crazy but you also knew that everything you were experiencing was real but also impossible, right? Something about this doll, or maybe even the house, was alive but it didn't seem to wish you harm. It was benign. So, you didn't fear it, it was just little Brahms after all.

Time passed and this became your norm, until Brahms must have decided you were the right person for the job. You received another note one morning, left on your dresser for you to find. It asked if you wanted to see him, to truly meet him.

At first you were unsure of how to react, but went to 'wake up' the Brahms doll. Eventually you answered him, telling him you did want to meet him.

Honestly, what you expected to be confronted with was a ghost of a child. You prepared yourself to be a little freaked out but calmed yourself with the reminder that it was just Brahms, harmless.

After responding, you heard movement downstairs. Something sounding like a door opening and closing. Assuming that was where the spirit preferred to reveal itself, you hurried down to the living room, far more shocked by what waited for you than if it were a young spirit.

Stood in the lounge was a tall man, dressed in loose pants, a white vest, and a cardigan. Though, the most eye-catching part of his appearance was the porcelain mask he wore, reminding you of the Brahms doll.

The man spoke your name in a familiar childlike voice you had heard from time to time, he then repeated in a more adult voice, his real voice. He was trying to put you at ease, tell you who he was, before revealing the truth.

"Brahms?" you didn't really need to ask, you knew it in your gut. "I thought..." you cut yourself off, knowing it was pointless, it didn't matter what you thought because you knew the truth now. It was obvious to you that he had been causing all the strange things happening in the house. And the list of strict rules now made so much more sense.

You attempted to gather your thoughts, processing this new information. Brahms hadn't died, he was very much alive and now an adult. And he was standing right in front of you. In shock, you had stumbled backwards, back hitting the wall behind you and you lent against it for support.

For a moment, Brahms didn't move, just watching you, waiting for a reaction. Would you run? Scream? Were you afraid of him?

You took some time to take in his appearance before smiling softly. This was your Brahms...so, he was harmless, right?

Noticing your smile and taking it as a form of acceptance, Brahms decided to move closer. As he approached you, his height became much more noticeable. He was obviously tall, over six foot, but the height difference between the two of you only became more intense as he grew closer.

Soon he was standing about a foot in front of you and you couldn't help your reaction, heat rising up your neck and over your cheeks as you turned your face away from him. Embarrassed by your reaction.

He was...attractive, you could tell even when he wore the mask. And he was so tall, something you had always been very attracted too, it always made you flustered, made you warm.

Brahms stared down at you, curious about your reaction. It wasn't fear, you were blushing...

You would barely look at him, only flushing more when you did. You didn't say anything, but when you tried, you stumbled over your words.

Slowly, Brahms began to piece some things together. You were...attracted to him? He could recognise some similarities in his own behaviour whenever he was aroused, his eyes widened slightly when he realised you must have been feeling the same sensation. It excited him. It thrilled him.

He moved closer, closing the space between you, making you even more flustered, but this time you looked up at him. Your lips parted, eyes slightly wide, just watching him, but not wanting to be further away from him.

Brahms lent down slightly, the nose of his porcelain mask brushing along your hairline. He could hear your heart beating against your ribcage, and how your breath hitched.

He said your name again, low and raspy, and it sent a shiver through your body. This was certainly not how you thought your day would go, but you felt a thrill from what your new role here could be.

"Brahms" you gasped quietly as his hands found your hips, pressing the weight of his body against yours. He didn't seem to have an understanding of boundaries, he wanted to be near you, so he would be.

Your hands instinctually rested against his chest, but still made no effort to push him away. You had to crane your neck back to look up at his masked face, seeing the dark eyes of the man beneath it. His pupils blown wide.

Another gasp left your lips when you felt something prod against your stomach, knowing what it was without needing to look down. It made your face even warmer.

He rocked his hips against you, groaning behind his mask. The groan was low, desperate, and it rumbled in his chest. Your fingers curled, clutching his vest in your hands, as your thighs clenched together in search for friction.

Brahms seemed to notice your own arousal growing. He was overwhelmed, he had hoped you would be the one to accept him, to continue to care for him and love him even after finding out the truth, but he never expected you to accept him like this, not so soon. He could barely contain himself.

You didn't know what to say. What was there to say? Only minutes ago you had convinced yourself a ghost was responsible for strange happenings around the house, only minutes ago you had discovered the truth, and now Brahms had you pinned against a wall, grinding against your stomach almost shamelessly.

He lowered the mouth of his mask to your ear, leaving you able to hear his ragged breaths. Just as you thought this was a selfish endeavour on his part, you felt his knee wiggle itself between your thighs. Your own moan surprised you as he pressed up against your core.

The pressure was exactly was you needed and you allowed your body to slump against him, your head dropping against his chest as he gripped you harder and closer. Something about his behaviour and eagerness told you that this was something he had wanted and thought about for a long time.

It was then when you came to your senses, at least a little but. You pulled your head away from his chest and pressed further back against the wall, hands pushing against his chest.

"Brahms, stop" you demanded breathlessly, unable to deny your hesitance in halting the activities.

He was dirty. Dust caught in his clothes and hair, sweat sticking to his skin. Even with you mind being muddled by the man, you had figured he had been living and moving around in the walls. It wasn't a surprise he was so...grimy.

He whined but obeyed your orders, at least you knew he would listen to you, even if he was looking down at you, confused and needy.

"You need a shower" you informed him.

Brahms relaxed slightly, you weren't rejecting him, you were caring for him. That was something.

"With you" he spoke lowly, staring you in the eyes as he made his request.

His words surprised you and the pleased groan at you made embarrassed your further.

"Sure, Brahms...with me" you nodded.

With that, the tall man took a step back but still stood within your personal space, taking his hands off of you. You attempted to quickly compose yourself before holding your hand out to him, giving him a shy smile.

He seemed to meet you with a certain suspicion this time, but took your hand in his much larger one without hesitation. Letting you guide him through the house and up to one of the bathrooms.

This was your Brahms, though different to what you had expected. You cared for him, had developed a certain love for him, and just something about him aroused something within you. Similarly, Brahms had grown attached and infatuated with you, his mind running wild with the possibility of fantasies becoming reality. They already were...

[butyouvealwaysbeenthecaretaker]

There's something I'm trying to put into words,

about the discomfort of straight women who are very into slash and yaoi. It's been bothering me in a quiet way for a while, and then over the weekend it exploded, and I'm trying to pick my way through pain constructively.

There's a couple of things.

~*~

Point zero is that desire is good, actually, and so is fantasy. Keep this in mind, we'll come back to it.

~*~

The first thing is shame. People who are choosing to approach their own desire from the side, not willing to recognise their own bodies or vocalise their desire in their own voice, or think about sex in which their bodies participate. People who are too afraid to work on their own liberation, so take yours.

After all, feminist sexual writing is a whole genre and tradition. The only reason why queer men's liberation feels appealing to these women is that they have nothing at stake in it: it's fantasy, it's safe, it's nothing to do with or about them.

For actual queer men, the process of liberationary sex writing is - of course - mortifying; or there is a stage of mortification and pain one experiences in approaching it. It is not, and never will be, your safe space; that's why you're trying to transform it into one.

~*~

The second thing is privacy. I'd wake up and log on and there would be a full-flown gigglefest about sex in slash, and not being able to quite put my finger on how to say - this is making me feel bad and weird. And in retrospect, this picks up on point 1. Whose bodies are we sexualising in this space. I want to go back and start a conversation about how I prefer girl-on-top and how people who read missionary fic are gross, and hey when you read Barbie/Ken fic, do you see them mostly doing it doggy style?

Because I think that would make-it-real, for these women to feel their own bodies are at stake and being scrutinised in the conversation.

Making my morning coffee, I wonder what kinds of sexual relationships these women have, and if they know that "gay missionary" isn't this abstract concept that appears in fanfiction but a kind of sex they have all the right anatomy to experience for themselves. I suspect they would not like that, and that also the purpose of these conversations is specifically so that nobody envisages them having sex, or being sexual beings.

~*~

The third is experience.

A. thinks that it's a problem that teenagers watch gay porn. (A. wrote her dissertation on gay porn.) A has never had her rights removed on the basis that the world must be made "safe for children".

B thinks there's too much gross stuff in fanfic and it should be banned. B has never experienced fanfic archives removing LGBT material under the aegis of child-protection and removing what is "gross". B has never experienced a reasonable-sounding expansion of anti-kink laws being used in the vaccum where anti-gay laws once stood, the way they disproportionately target queer porn, or are used to harass sex workers, or arrest queer people.

C thinks that anyone who has a gross fantasy, is a hair-trigger away from actually hurting somebody. C is cisgender, and will never be arrested in a bathroom or have her body regarded as inherently a gross sexual fetish. C does not date women, and has never come to learn that a fist may be more easy to take than a kiss, when you are made to feel disgusting for desiring love. C is also asexual - the shame associated with having a sexual expression of any kind is not on her radar. C does not experience gender dysphoria, and had to wrestle with the downright odd things you brain does to manage a libido and an incoherent body all at once. C has never dated someone who survived the peak of AIDS, and has formed intimate connections between blood and sex and death, forged by decades of homophobic media and law. C. cannot tolerate the concept of erotic horror because she has never been made to experience her own body and desires as horrifying.

All these women spend all their free time making stories about imaginary gay and crossdressing men, talking about drag race, and sylvester.

This is not dissonant to them. As we have said, these women see queer man culture as a a place of safety - an escape from patriarchy and their own discomfort. They are unable to comprehend queer expression as a thing that is not safe.

They are very certain that they can tell the difference between a sexual expression that is gross and nongross; and hurting the gross is therefore OK, because punishing perverts will never be co-opted in their soft-focus world of tender coffeshop AUs and gentle longing and having the right kind of gay sex that is photogenic for women to consume.

~*~ A corollary: these things are not for you. What if we defined queer media - one of many possible definitions - as a thing that excludes. Their defining quality is a conversation between queer artist and queer listener, drawn from the conversations the artist had with their friends and lovers, or conversations with the world which anyone within the wall will find familiar.

I am suddenly, humbling-ly and viscerally aware of where the *don’t like white people who like ballroom culture* people are coming from

~*~

The fourth thing is that broader conversation about women with privilege (whiteness, class, straightness), being unable to consider that their behaviour could ever be dangerous or destructive.

Their own narrative of sexual victimhood and shame is central in their own hearts, and they are incapable of adopting an intersectional perspective which adds nuance to their experiences.

~*~

And the fifth is how much they hate you when you try and bring actual queer politics into their fragile world.

Simultaneously asking, on the one hand - could we make this space safe for work again, so it feels a little less like it does now? and being howled at, as if that's an outrageous restriction on their right to talk about pornography.

And on the other, if we are to be a porn conversation place, can we try and rethink the judgemental "anyone who likes weird sex is a threat" attitudes that come up over, and over, and over again.

Needless to say, the needle for "this man is a sexual predator" fired in under 30 seconds and, shortly after demanding I leave the community I established, nobody has spoken to me since.  

~*~

There's a particular soreness, I think, of being around people who want to casually chat about drag and feel like Born This Way is theirs and want to PM you about their dissertation on gay porn studios of the 1970s and stan the Marquis de Sade

but cannot take the reality of being around queer people or their lives.

An ugliness, a grossness, a grossness that compounds the passively "being treated like a sexual object" into an active bar on having sexual subjectivity. A be seen but not heard of the bedroom: be seen, a Bowie-chiselled Velour-glamoured Cowley-sparkling Velvet Goldmine vision;

but not heard, as in, don't ever cross that line into talking about real sex in our fantasies (even when our fantasies are your real sex), and don't ever make us consider that our words have weight.

I'm spending time in a little world with women who like Interview with a Vampire, the Company of Wolves, David Lynch and the Marquis de fucking Sade, and who are so fragile around their own fears of desire that they cannot tolerate someone saying - it's fine to be into stuff, and not be ashamed.

This odd middle space, where on the one hand I am comfortable in spaces which are sexually silent - where the horror and challenge of my body and life never come up; and on the other, I am comfortable in spaces which are radically sexually open, in which no-one need feel afraid or judged.

These women, on the other hand, want something else: this desire to talk about sex billowing out of them, irrepressably, but also to use that freedom to box other sexualities down tight - to judge, to shame, to define themselves coyly by describing others as disgusting, to feel that urge spilling into view only to publically run away from it and demand others do the same.

Erotica, without wanking. Desiring men, without women. Thinking about the sex lives of your toy dolls, but not being into that weird stuff. Fantasies, with no bodies. Male sexuality, with no actual men in it.

~*~

I am the last of three queer people who has left that community; and still, I imagine, the "define our own sexuality in coded ways by judging things we are not as gross, and creating in the gaps around our own bodies and desires a world of gay men who are like I wish to be" conversations are going on; but unobserved by any actual queers who might break the fantasy.

And reader, I liked these people. I'm heartbroken.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch 60:To The Stars And Back

Intro The Time Heist worked, but at a cost. Natasha gave her life for the Soul Stone. Following a promise to make her sacrifice worth something, the Avengers continued their plan and succeeded in reversing the Snap. But along with everyone else, the biggest threat the Avengers have ever faced re-appeared.

 Thanos.

 Now Steve and Katie, along with the rest of their team are locked in a fearsome battle, between light and dark, life and death. Simply put, it’s a battle which they cannot afford to lose because they’re in the Endgame now…

Warnings:

“Language!” 

Major angst- get the tissues ready.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

So we’re almost at the end! I reckon 2 more and an epilogue and we’re done…well, I say done, onto one-shot territory as I’m not ready to leave the Roger-Stark-Barnes-Wilson family behind, just yet…

This one is quite heavy on the flashbacks- but I wanted to give everyone an little flash of the dynamic between Katie/Steve and Katie/Tony before she started dating Steve, which is something I’m toying with doing as a Prequel of sorts too from Iron Man through the Avengers…I’ll see how that one works out. We go right back to Iron Man 3 territory in this one. Hope you enjoy, please re-blog, comment etc. I live for your thoughts!!

“Happy?” Katie frowned momentarily as the man strode into her kitchen, followed by Steve. “Wasn’t expecting to see you today, not that you’re not welcome, of course you are…” she hastily added.

“It’s ok Kiddo, I know what you meant.” he said, chuckling softly “The kids not here?” “Jamie’s gone to the park with Bucky and Sam, and Emmy’s taken Lucky for a walk.” she answered. “Why, do we need them?”

“No, I was just gonna say hi but I’ll see them tomorrow I suppose.” he said, smiling sadly at the thought of the funeral. “But, anyway, I came to deliver this. It turns out even… even when he’s gone your brother has me running errands.”

Katie smiled softly as he held up the box in front of her.

“He left 3. One for you and Steve, one for Pepper and Morgan, and one for his Funeral….so…”

“His Funeral?” Steve frowned, as Katie opened a drawer and retrieved a knife before she walked over to the table. She had a feeling she knew what was in there, but she didn’t say anything. Instead she carefully slip the tape on the cardboard box and took a breath as she realised she was right. Inside was an Iron Man helmet, one of his many spares from his suits over the years.

“He’s erm…” she said, taking a breath as she instantly recognised which suit this had come from “He’ll have left a message or something, like he did all those years ago from Tennessee.”

Happy nodded “He did…the boxes arrived at the house today. Along with instructions that if he had, you know, then they were to be distributed accordingly.”

“Thanks…” Katie said, setting the helmet on the table and glancing into the box. There was another, smaller box inside, to which an envelope was attached. She smiled as she read her brother’s handwriting on the front. It simply said “Spangles”

“Thanks but I should be getting back.” Happy said, declining Steve’s offer of lunch as Katie turned her attention back to them. “Stuff to do before tomorrow.”

Katie gave him a small smile, placing the smaller box on the side. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me neither.” he said gently, dropping a hand to her shoulder “But we’ll get through it. We always do, huh?”

“I’ll see you out.” Steve said, as Happy gave Katie a hug before he nodded and the two men left the room.

Katie looked at the helmet which now sat on the table, and she took a deep breath before she picked it up and looked straight into the eye sockets. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, resting her forehead against the cool metal she held in her hands. It was from the mark 42 autonomous prehensile propulsion suit, the same one he had been wearing when Killian bombed their house back in December 2012, the one he had flown to Tennessee.

And then she was in another flashback, so vivid it was almost like she could hear, touch, feel her brother once more…

“This is fucking bullshit Steve!”  Katie raged at him, as she stormed down the corridor “We are the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistic Division…If this guy isn’t a terrorist threat to our homeland, then I don’t know what is.”

“Hey, look, Sweetheart, I agree with you.” Steve tried to reason “But you heard Fury. We deal with the bigger threats…maybe he has a point, SHIELD can't go chasing off every lead on the Mandarin."

“I might have believed that if he hadn’t sent us in, no questions asked to save a diplomat and his family just over 8 weeks ago.” Katie shot back, “During which, I got my fucking nose broken. But yet here we were, refusing to do anything about a terrorist that is hell bent on taking as many innocent lives as possible.”

“How is Happy?” Steve asked gently as she hit the button for the elevator.

“Critical but stable, whatever that means.” Katie said, her tone slightly more gentle. “But that’s not why I’m pissed.” “I never said it was…”

“I just…” she turned to look at him as he selected the Man Ops floor “Isn’t this what SHIELD or the Avengers is about, taking down threats that…”

“If you ask me the Pentagon is scared.” Steve said, cutting her off. “And the reason the World Security Council voted that this isn’t SHELD or Avenger business is because that would show the world America can’t cope without us.”

“So instead they do nothing.” Katie shook her head.

“Well, not quite nothing…” Steve said, as he looked at her, a smirk on his face.

“Oh yeah, I forgot…Rhodey got a new suit a few weeks ago…” she coughed and put on a fake, deep announcing voice “I give to you the saviour of America, Iron Patriot...all they did was take his suit but paint it red, white and blue…” “If it’s any consolation, the world’s press also thinks that it’s ridiculous.” Steve said as the elevator door opened.

“I know, I saw. Joan Rivers’ ripped it apart on The Fashion Police.”

“I have no idea who or what that is.” he said, shaking his head as they walked down the corridor to the main STRIKE Operations Office where the team were working on some intelligence Widow had sent them about a potential weapons trader operating with Chitauri Weapons.

“Erm… Nova…”  Evans said, looking up as Steve held the door open for her. He gestured to the screen which was displaying the news on the wall “You might wanna see his…”

Steve and Katie both glanced at the TV, which showed a gaggle of news reporters gathered outside the hospital Katie knew Happy to be in. But in the middle of them was my brother, with a lot less poise than normal.

“Is this live?” she looked at Evans. He nodded.

“Can you turn that up?” Steve asked, his hands falling to his belt and Rumlow obliged.

"Hey, Mr. Stark, when is somebody gonna kill this guy?" some douchebag recording with a cell phone asked and Katie let out a groan as her brother, on most likely, a dozen different television networks, rounded on Douchey Cell-Phone Guy who shrugged. "Just sayin'."

"Is that what you want?" Tony demanded, pulling off his sunglasses and fixing the cameras with a look to freeze hell over. "Here's a little holiday greeting I've been wanting to send to the Mandarin, I just didn't know how to phrase it till now. My name's Tony Stark and I'm not afraid of you. I know you're a coward. So, I've decided that you just died, pal. I'm gonna come get the body. There's no politics here, just good old-fashioned revenge. No Pentagon, it's just you and me….” Katie dragged her hands down her face, shaking her head and groaning again. But the threat alone wasn’t enough for Tony, he carried on.

“And on the off-chance you're a man, here's my home address. 10880 Malibu Point, 90265. I'll leave the door unlocked.” He looked at Douchey Cell-Phone guy “That's what you wanted, right?"

Then he grabbed the cellphone, and threw it against a column, smashing it to bits. "Bill me." before he ducked into his Audi and drove off.

“Did my brother just give the Mandarin our address?” Katie swallowed her eyes still on the TV.

“Err yeah.” Evans said.

“Dickhead…” she seethed.

“Hey, look, he’s clearly a little emotionally compromised right now," Steve replied in an attempt to calm her down.

“Yeah, Cap’s right…” Rumlow offered. “He was being hounded by a bunch of idiots with cameras demanding answers he didn't have…”

“I have to go.” She said, turning and heading out of the door.

“Katie wait…” Steve hurried after her. “You can’t, I mean it’s not safe…” “I have to.” she said, looking at him. “If I don’t he’s gonna do something really stupid and I can’t watch him do that, not again Steve. It’s like he’s pushed that self-destruct button and we’re back where we were after Afghanistan and…” “Come here…” he said, as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, his hands gently settling on her back. She sighed and pressed her face into the rough materiel of his stealth suit, her arms sliding round his waist as she took a deep breath and letting his embrace calm her down, just as it always did. “Want me to come with you?”

“I would love the back-up but…” she sighed as she stepped back and looked up at him. “Trust me, it will make Tony even worse if he thinks we’re ganging up on him, plus it’ll get you in a load of shit with Fury so...”

“Fuck Fury.” he said, and Katie snorted. “You’re by best friend Doll, if you want me to I’ll come.”

“Course I want you to but, honestly, it’s more trouble than it’s worth. It’s best if I go alone.” Steve breathed heavily out of his nostrils. He wasn’t happy about this, but he couldn’t stop her.  “Alright, but you promise me…” he took both her hands in his “if you need me, you call.”

“I promise.” she said, squeezing her fingers round his before she turned and ran off.

5 hours the StarkJet landed at the airfield just to the rear of LAX and she was transferred to a helicopter, which cruised down the familiar Malibu coastline. Katie loved DC, she loved New York, but there was something nostalgic about coming back to her childhood home.

“Ready to help me find this bastard? Tony asked, looking at her as she strode down the ramp which led from the Helipad towards the house, pulling her bag behind her. “Could certainly use your analyst skills…”

“What you mean before he finds us? Oh wait, that’s right…he doesn’t need to find us, he already knows where we are because you gave him our fucking address!” she said with an exasperated tone as he reached to take her bag off her, leaving her free to storm down towards the house in front of him.

“So we better get to him first.” He said simply as she pulled out her phone. “Who you calling?” “No one. I’m texting.” she replied.

“Smart ass, who you texting then?” “Steve.”

“Rogers?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. “How many other Steve’s do you know?”

“I was just checking on account of no one actually, ever calling him Steve…” “Everyone calls him Steve, dipshit.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re the only one that has stupid nicknames for him”

“So what’s he want?” “Nothing, I just told him I’d let him know when I arrived.” “Why?” “Because he’s my best friend.” she said, pushing send on the message. “And a little concerned some maniac terrorist is gonna come blow my head off.”

Tony didn’t respond, and refrained from any further snarky comments when her phone pinged back a few minutes later with a message from Steve telling her to stay safe and call if she needed him. Although she did notice him trying to read the message so she flipped him the finger and slid her phone back into her pocket.

“By the way…” she pointed up at the ginormous Christmas Bunny Tony had bought for Pepper which was sat in the open plan living area “What the fuck made you think buying that was a good idea?”

Tony ignored her and made his way down the stairs to the basement/garage area.

“I've compiled a Mandarin database for you, sir. Drawn from S.H.I.E.L.D, F.B.I., and C.I.A. intercepts.” JARVIS was saying as Katie reached the bottom of the steps.

She shot Tony a look, “You hacked SHIELD again?”

He shrugged and she gave a groan of frustration as JARVIS announced “Initiating virtual crime scene reconstruction.”

And suddenly they were both in the middle of a hologram diagram of the destruction at Graumann's Chinese Theatre and Tony was glancing at some information files Jarvis had pulled together.

“Okay, what do we got here? His name is an ancient Chinese war mantle, meaning…”

“’Adviser to the King’” Katie said, cutting in as she read the information on the hologramatic screen in front of Tony. “He’s using South American insurgency tactics, talks like a Baptist preacher.”

“There's lots of pageantry going on here...lots of theatre…close” Tony said, pushing the information down.

“So he wants an audience…” Katie said, as the two of them spun round, looking at the crime scene reconstruction. Tony nodded as they strode over the floor.

"Tell me about the bomb, JARVIS," Tony instructed.

The A.I. spoke almost immediately. "The heat from the blast was in excess of 3000 degrees Celsius," he droned on. "Any subjects within 12.5 yards were immediately vaporized. No bomb parts were found in a 3-mile radius of the Chinese Theatre."

Tony shook his head again, his forehead crinkling. "When is a bomb not a bomb?"

“Things are not always what they seem…” Katie muttered hovering in the reconstruction scene and then the rest of the quote popped into her head “ ‘The first appearance deceives many’…maybe that’s what this is about. Deception. Maybe it’s all just…”

Tony caught onto the exact word she was about to say, their minds working in sync as they spoke at the same time. "Theatre."

Another second passed, causing them to snap their heads up and look at each other.

"He's covering something up here and blaming it on a bomb," Katie said, glancing down at the reconstruction and Tony followed her eyes, swallowing as he saw Happy sprawled on the floor.

“Talk to us Happy…” he muttered. The pair of them stayed still for a second, eyeballing the still holographic form of their friend, and then something else caught Katie’s eye.

"What's that?" she asked, noticing how Happy's finger was extended to an object landing a few feet away from his body.

Tony sauntered over to the object, picking up the holographic form of a pair of dog tags. Katie raised an eyebrow in his direction. That didn't fit in.

"Any military victims?" he asked JARVIS.

"Not according to public record, sir."

Biting his lip, Tony set down the pair of dog tags, turning back to the original holographic map. "Bring up the thermogenic signatures again, factor in three thousand degrees," he demanded as he climbed up on top of one of the units in his lab.  Katie was completely lost now, he was following a train of thought that she wasn’t, clearly.

"The oracle cloud has completed analysis," JARVIS observed. "Accessing satellites and plotting the last 12 months of thermogenic occurrence now."

Tony quickly scanned the results that popped up, shaking his head as he sat down, feet dangling over the edge. "Take away everywhere that there's been a Mandarin attack," he added after a second.

"What are you looking for?" his sister finally dared to ask, not understanding a word of his scientific observations. After doing a scan of the map herself, she still had no idea what he was going for.

"I'll let you know when I find it," Tony murmured, his eyes darting down at the map until he pointed to a single glowing dot. "There."

Katie glanced at the screen. "Rose Hill, Tennessee?"

"You sure that's not one of his?" Tony asked, verifying his theory.

"It predates any known Mandarin attack," JARVIS replied. "The incident was the use of a bomb to assist a suicide. I must say, the heat signature is wildly similar. Three thousand degrees Celsius."

Tony pointed to the records that JARVIS was now accessing about the incident. "The victims were two military guys," he said before turning back to face Katie. "Have you ever been to Tennessee?"

"Can't say that I have," she answered honestly, shrugging her shoulders.

"JARVIS?" Tony called out once again.

"Creating a flight plan for Tennessee Sir…” Katie heaved a quick sigh and looked up at her brother.

“You can’t go on your own…” she said, shaking her head, “Tony…” “I’m not…” He nodded in her direction with a gentle smile. “I made you something…” “What?” she asked.

"Time to suit up," he said matter-of-factly he crossed his arms across his chest before flinging them out to the side, shutting down the display.

“You mean, you made…you made me an Iron Man suit?” she gasped.

“Well, Iron Woman technically but…”

“No no wait…I got it…” Katie laughed “Iron Maiden…”

Tony’s face split into a grin, but he didn’t get chance to respond as the doorbell to the front door rang. Katie looked up at Tony, matching his confused expression with her own. The two of them glanced at the image of the front door which was now being projected onto the screen to Tony’s right showing a car at the gate.

“Expecting someone?” Katie asked.

"Are we still at ding dong?" Tony announced, throwing his hands up in the air. "We're supposed to be on total” he banged his palm twice on the desk “- security lockdown. Come on I threatened a terrorist."

"There's only so much I can do when you give the world’s press your home address," JARVIS responded in his favourite sarcastic tone. Katie had to grin, clearly the AI though it was a dumbass move too.

Tony stepped into one of his suits and Katie took one of the guns from the store, tucking it into the pocket of her pants. Tony instructed Jarvis to open the door and they made their way cautiously up the stairs.

“Right there’s fine…” Tony instructed, holding his finger up as Katie walked behind him. In front of them was a tall, slim black haired woman. Katie glanced at her brother as he turned his helmeted head to look at her and then back to the visitor before he walked towards them.

“You're not the Mandarin are you.” Tony’s face plate slid back, his words at that point a statement more than a question. The dark haired woman looked at him and he spoke again, only this time he asked. “Are you.”

The visitor rolled her eyes “You don't remember. Why am I not surprised?” she sighed

“Don’t take it personally.” Katie said, smirking at the fact this was another one of Tony’s pre-Pepper bangs. He had enough of them to fill a telephone directory.  

“Yeah, look, I don't remember what I had for breakfast” he shrugged.

“Gluten-free waffles, sir.” JARVIS supplied.

“That’s right…” Tony said, nodding. He turned to Katie.

“Okay, look, I need to be alone with you. Someplace not here, it's urgent.” the woman said.  

“Normally, I'd go for that sort of thing, but now I'm in a committed relationship.” He said as he turned to walk into the living room. Two bags landed with a thud on the floor from the above balcony in front of him.

Katie looked up to see Pepper retreating away from the rails. “With her…” she said, pointing upwards.

“Tony, is somebody there?” Pepper called as Tony stepped out of his suit, Katie tucking the gun into her waistband.

“Yeah, Kiddo and Maya Hansen” he said, looking from his sister to the woman who gave a smile and shook her head.

“Turns out he does remember you.” Katie said, eyeing her up.

“Old botanist pal that I used to know, barely.” he finished.

As Pepper started walking downstairs Tony moved towards Maya and dropped his voice, “Please don't tell me that there is a twelve year-old kid waiting in the car that I've never met.”

Katie rolled her eyes and hugged Pepper as pushed the huge bunny out of the way and dropped off the bottom step.

“Hey, Tony said you were coming in early, but as you can see, we’re going…so don’t unpack…” She turned to Maya and fixed a smile onto her face.

“I'm sorry. With Happy in the hospital, I didn't know we were expecting guests.” she said, her tone was both polite but carried an undercurrent of annoyance at Tony.

“We weren't.” Tony said.

“No, I... “ Maya began before Pepper cut her off, looking at Tony with a smile on her face.

Oh dear.

“And old girlfriends!” Pepper said, the sweetness dripping off her voice made Katie grimace. Tony was in for it.

“She's not really.” Tony protested

“No, not really. It...it was just one night”. Maya agreed.

“Soooooo!” Katie said, clapping her hands together. “Happy… think I’ll go pay him a visit…” “That's how you did it, isn't it? Yep” Pepper continued, ignoring her.

“Yep, hang on, what, no, Kiddo you stay there…” Tony said, spinning between Katie and Pepper who was now looking at Maya.

“Well, you know...” Pepper said “You have saved yourself a world of pain”

“I’m sure….” Maya said, raising her eyebrows.

“Trust me.” She said, turning to Tony “We’re going out of town, okay? We’ve been through this…” “Nope.” Tony replied “Yep” Pepper shot back as the two of them started speaking at the same time as they often did.

“The man says no….” “Immediately and indefinitely….” “Honey... “ “Great idea” Maya said, nodding “Let's go.”

“I'm sorry, that's a terrible idea. Please don't touch her bags.” Tony said.

“This is how normal people behave.” Pepper’s voice was rising. Deciding she’d seen enough, Katie started to head towards the staircase that led to the garage.

“I can't protect you out there” Tony was equally as loud now, “Either of you.” he spun round to see his sister heading down the stairs “Where you going?” “I told you!” she said, not stopping. ““To see Happy.” She selected the keys for the silver Audi TT and let herself in as it automatically adjusted to her settings, then, less than 20 seconds later she roared up the ramp and out into the sunset.

“Call Captain Badass…” she instructed the hands free set as she pulled up the drive.

“Hey…” Steve’s voice filled the car as he answered after 2 rings. “You alright?” “Yeah, just on my way to see Happy. Pepper and Tony are having a domestic, but that aside, we may have something” “Yeah?” he asked.

“Tony ran a simulation. We did some analysis and found a pair of military dog tags on the ground, but there were no records of military victims. Anyway, long story short, after a cross reference we came up with another attack, in Tennessee, same heat signature, same MO, military victims but get this, it pre-dates any known Mandarin attack.”

Katie surged the car forward and up, along the road carved into the side of the cliff, following the smooth tarmac round.

“So…what, you think it was a Mandarin attack that went unnoticed?” Steve asked after a pause. “I don’t think this Mandarin is what everyone thinks he is.” Katie said. “There’s no bomb casings, nothing. Something feels off Steve.” “Off, how?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Katie trailed off as helicopter which was level with her now, cruising along the side of the cliff in the opposite direction. Probably more press, Jarvis was right, they’d been hovering outside ever since Tony gave away his public address. But the more she looked, the more it seemed slightly stra to her. The colour was a beige camouflage.

“Huh, odd…” she mumbled, watching the helicopter, completely ignoring Steve now. “What?” he asked, utterly confused. “The helicopter here…it looks like a military…” and then Katie felt her heart in her mouth as she had a horrible realisation . “Oh Shit...” “Katie…” “Steve, I think…”

And as she said the words the helicopter fired a missile straight at the house.

“Katie, sweetheart, talk to me!” Steve’s voice was loud and she realised she had been screaming.

“The house…” she said, quickly spinning the car, the tyres screeching and skidding as she sped back, watching in front of her eyes as her childhood home exploded “Shit Cap, I…” “Get yourself out of the way, right now!” he instructed.

“Tony and Pepper are in there!”  Katie yelled, “I can’t, I have to help…” “Look, I’m going to speak to Fury, just get yourself away damned it Katie, that’s an order...”

“You don’t order me to do shit…” she muttered, cutting him off as she hammered her foot to the floor as another helicopter started firing at the house. After what seemed like an age she skidded down and round the corner onto the long drive, screeching to a halt.

But there was nothing she could do. Tony was nowhere to be found. The Emergency Services bustled around the place, and they waited for what felt like hours for any sign or news, but there wasn’t any. Pepper was stepping through the rubble of the house. As Katie watched she saw her bend down and pic something up. It was a broken Iron Man helmet. She frowned and put it on. Katie continued to watch as her hand flew up to where her mouth would be in the helmet and Katie scrambled over to her as Pepper removed it and handed it to her with shaking hands.

Katie placed it over her head.

“Stark secure server…retinal scan accepted. Play back…”

Tony’s voice filled her ears.

Pepper, Kiddo, it's me. I've got a lot of apologies to make and not a lot of time. So…first off, I'm so sorry I put you both in harms way. That was selfish and stupid, and it won't happen again. Also, Pep it's Christmas time and the rabbit's too big. It’s gone. Sorry. And I'm sorry in advance because I can't come home yet. I need to find this guy. You both gotta stay safe, that's all I know... I just stole a poncho from a wooden Indian.”

The helmet felt like it was suffocating her, and she wrenched it off a moment later, dropping it on to the ground. The tears were flowing down her cheeks now as relief washed through her system. She glanced up with tear-stained cheeks, as Pepper looked at me, her own tears shining in the low light.

"He’s alive…”

Steve made his way back to the kitchen to find Katie sat at the table, the helmet held in her hands and her face pressed against it, crying softly.

“Hey…” he said gently, dropping into the seat next to her, gently taking the helmet and placing it on the table. “Come here…”

She turned into him, pressing her face to his chest as she shook with silent sobs. His hand gently rubbed her back as he soothed her, waiting for her to calm down.

“Sorry…” she said, pulling back “I was just thinking…about the last time I saw this helmet and…” “Stop apologising.” he smiled, wiping her tears with his thumbs. She took a deep breath and glanced at the helmet.

“Oh, here…” she said, reaching out for the smaller box “This was in there for you.” Steve frowned and took the box, looking at the envelope. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes “That fucking nickname.”

“Open it.” she urged “I wanna see what it is.”

Smiling at her ever impatient nature, he tore the envelope open. His eyes scanned the writing and his brow furrowed slightly, before his lips turned up in a soft smile and he handed the note to her.

Hey Old Man. My dad once told me that no amount of money can buy a second of time, yet he had a hell of a lot of expensive watches, so go figure. This particular one I couldn’t auction for charity. I always intended to pass it to you, one way or another. And if you’re reading this note you’re getting it after my demise…so I best explain. I did a bit of digging and it turns out that most of the guys involved in Operation Rebirth and the Howling Comandos got one of these post the War. It’s a Wartime Rolex Oyster, probably worth a few bob or too but the sentiment makes it priceless as you’ll see when you look at it. (here’s a clue- check the back!) It only feels right that you have it. I had intended to pass it to you for your 40th…or your 107th, whatever you wanna call it, but again, as you’re reading this I won’t be there for that.  

I know your Jamie’s surname is Rogers but there is half Stark in him so he’s not a complete lost cause, and maybe when he’s older you can pass this down to him as well.

I’m also assuming you’ll be reading this before watching the message I left as we both know Kiddo is an impatient brat so I’ll leave it there, I don’ t wanna spoil my heartfelt speech too much.

T 

Whilst she was reading, Steve opened the box and he gently took the watch in his hand. It was silver, with a black leather strap. He gently looked at it before he turned it over and he instantly felt a lump in his throat. Engraved on the back was the Howling Commando emblem- they had adopted the wings from his helmet which had adorned their uniforms in whichever place they chose- with the words ‘To The Captain’ arched over the top in copper slate writing.

He gently handed it to Katie and she glanced down at it, turning it over to read the inscription, her fingers running over the writing.

“Wow.” she said gently, wiping her eyes “I’ve never seen this before…”

“It’s erm…” Steve said, his voice thick “It’s pretty…”

“Awesome.” she smiled up at him.

“Yeah…” he said as she handed it back to him, and he placed it back in the leather box, setting it to one side.  Seeing that had brought a wave of emotions crashing back over him. Nostalgia, slight sadness at the loss of not just Tony but his other friends, and pride. Pride that even after he was gone they’d remembered him in such a touching and genuine way.

Shaking himself out of it, he looked at Katie and then nodded to the helmet. “Do you wanna do it now or…” She nodded and picked it up in a shaking hand, before she put it on.

“Retinal Scan authenticated” Fridays voice spoke “Greetings Mrs Rogers…accessing Stark Secure Server, hologram projection activated...”

Katie removed the helmet and placed it on the table, pointing it away from them as the hologram projected from the eye sockets. She took a deep breath as the hologramatic form of her brother appeared and he smiled at them.

“Hey Kiddo.” he spoke, “Cap…”

Katie wanted to speak back, so badly, but she knew it was pointless, he wasn’t actually there. Steve gently reached for her hand and she linked her fingers into his.

“So, I thought I better record a message, you know just in case it all goes sideways tomorrow.” Tony sniffed, sitting down on a chair “I’ve left one for Pepper and Morgan too and the gang, but I wanted to leave you your own. I hope that you’re watching this back and our plan worked, that everyone came back and we did it…” he took a deep breath “But there’s a couple of things I wanna get out of the way before we get into the soppy shit…first off, I’m leaving half my shares of Stark Industries to you, the other half goes to Pepper who will more than likely keep it for Moo once she’s old enough. If you both come to the decision to sell then, that’s cool. It’s probably run its course anyway. If not then…good luck taking it in whatever direction you choose, not that you need luck, you’ve proven yourself more than capable of running it pretty much singlehandedly over the last 5 years.”

Katie took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes with her spare hand, the one that was entwined with Steve’s tightened around his fingers.

“Second, most of the cash assets I have pass to Pepper, but I’ve left instructions that there’s some for you as well. I know you don’t need it but I want you to use it for the kids, however many you end up with. Uncle Nee wanted to leave them something. And thirdly, the house in Malibu. I knew we never got round to rebuilding it but I still own the land and I want you to have it Kiddo. That was our home for years and I watched you grow up there into the strong, beautiful woman you became so it only feels right. Plus it’s where we burried that fucking Turkey too so it’s probably haunted by the evil bastard anyway. There’s a fund set up as well which should let you rebuild it however you want. I know you probably won’t want to move from Brooklyn, I mean Cap’s lived there pretty much all his life, well, maybe, if you don’t count the 65 years doing time as a Capsicle or the time in DC and then wherever the hell you were when, well, you know…” Tony waved his hand “but, whatever, the point is you can rebuild it how you want and use it how you want, nice little holiday home maybe…” Katie took a shuddering breath as her tears were falling thick and fast. She’d forgotten all about that house, their home that had been destroyed. The fact that Tony had never sold the land so she could have it back in some form was astounding and overwhelming at the same time.

“So now that’s dealt with…onto the good stuff. First off, Spangles…” Tony spoke and Steve shifted slightly “I know we’ve had our differences…but I just wanted you to know when it comes to Katie I trust you implicitly, I think I always have done in a way. I never really had any doubts in my mind since that day I spoke to you in DC. To be honest you’re such a straight guy I trust you with pretty much anything, well, maybe anything…still not sure about our driving but that’s a different story.” Tony winked and Steve spluttered a chuckle. The fact that Captain America was a bit of a speed demon behind the wheel and been a long running joke amongst the Avengers since the beginning “You’re a good man with a good heart Steve, everyone knows this, I mean that’s the reason you were chosen for the serum anyway isn’t it? Because it makes the good better. I know I’m leaving my girl in good hands, but just so you know…” he raised his fingers to his eyes in the familiar ‘I’m watching you’ sign and Steve smiled “And that won’t stop now, because if you do ever let down I’ll make it my mission to haunt you for the rest of your life…” Tony smiled “But I know you won’t.. and because I know you probably still don’t believe me I wanted to tell you once and for all that I don’t blame you for any of the shit that went down. I Love you buddy, Take it easy.”  Steve took a deep breath and wiped his tears with his spare hand as Katie gently squeezed his other again as hologram Tony shifted in his seat and his attention turned to Katie.

“Kiddo…” he sighed “I don’t even know where to start. I know I’ve said it and said it again, but my biggest achievement in life will always be how well and good and honest and…amazing you turned out, even with me as a role model. If Moo turns out to be anything like you when she’s older then…” he trailed off and shrugged “Well, I only wish I was gonna be there to see it…oh, and that reminds me, Spangles I’m counting on you to be there to vet all potential boyfriends for suitability….” Both Katie and Steve let out a watery chuckle at that.

“But yeah, where was I…oh, right…seeing how you took Emmy under your wing, then having Jamie and how they’re both growing into spectacular people…it’s awesome and I really couldn’t be any prouder of the woman you became. Never lose that will to do the right thing, never lose that Stark stubbornness, never lose that streak of ferocity that leaves everyone quaking in their boots. After everything you’ve been through…I’m just sorry that I’m bringing more shitty times to your door by meeting an untimely death, but I know you’ll get through the other side, you always do. Just remember, this was my choice to fight, my choice. So I don’t want anyone thinking they’re to blame. I think, deep down, I always knew it would end this way ever since New York. And rather this than some crazy old bastard rattling round in a home not knowing what day it is…”

Katie took another deep breath as Tony wiped his hand down his face.

“Anyway, please make sure they don’t play any soppy shit at my funeral. AC/DC, Queen or something will suffice…maybe Train, I dunno…” he winked and Katie smiled through her tears “And if Ross is there, give him this from me…” he raised his middle finger of his right hand before he chuckled “But I don’t know why I’m recording all of this anyway as I’m sure it’s gonna work out. I’ll probably be sat here watching it back and grimacing at how ridiculously stupid I sound and look, but just in case…I want you to remember that I love you to the stars and back my girl, I always will…and I’m beyond proud of you.”

And with that the message cut off, leaving the kitchen quiet bar Katie’s shaking, soft sobs. Steve gently turned towards her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. She pressed her face into his chest, her hands sliding around his back where she gripped at his shirt her brother’s final goodbye to her echoing in her head.

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[sparrowsabre7]

Ok, standard, "the real stranding was the friends we made along the way"/"if I don't make it back..." speech time. It's a nice moment even if it doesn't quite land since we've actually spent very little time with anyone who's not Deadman. However, Sam giving Lou to him to take care of is actually affecting in a way I didn't anticipate.

Oh! Unrelated to the main plot, but got a mail from Peter Englert and he wasn't Kojima he was fucking Higgs. Like... okay? I don't know how to feel about that. It is revealed in an email from Engles where he essentially says, come chill at my house, btw I'm Higgs, in the least satisfying twist reveal ever. Ok, let's go to the beach-each.

The music swell as Fragile and Sam join hands to send him to the beach works really well too as a powerful stirrer of emotion. I think it's impossible to not be moved by a solid score, regardless of what's actually happening. Good music will accentuate an existing feeling without telling the viewer how to feel.

So another first person flashback, Amelie is putting Sam, as a baby, into the water on the beach and seems to be descending into the seam. So, I guess this means Sam was a BB at one point then?

I'm back in control in what looks like the End of Evangelion, blood red sea looking towards earth. I try walking into the ocean and following these weird strands but I just got washed back up. I sprint as far as I can until Sam gets tired, he sits down and a cutscene begins. Amelie is there, but in a black dress instead of red, but she sounds older, she turns around and is wearing Higgs' mask. Sam turns around and Bridget is there, lying in her hospital bed, the moment from the start replays in essence where Bridget lunges at Sam and says "I'll be waiting for you on the beach", as the camera pans her face changes from Bridget to Amelie. So.. they were the same person all along? That seems... unnecessary.

To my mind there are two good kinds of twists, ones that shock the audience with a surprising revelation that changes our understanding of a character, and ones that make everything that's come before make sense or changes the perspective. This, kind of does neither. Bridget/Amelie has always been a confusing connection and having them be the same person maybe makes more sense but the reason to hide that fact doesn't. It doesn't recontextualise the game, ultimately Bramelie has been treated like a damsel/macguffin throughout so the fact she's not who we thought changes nothing. She's still the extinction entity, she's still related to Sam. It just changes very little narratively speaking.

But I digress, Bramelie says the last stranding has already begun and a seam has formed between her beach and all other beaches.

I am given two choices: stay with Bramelie and watch the world die, or kill Bramelie to cut her beach free from the other beaches connected by the Chiral network, sparing humanity.

Essentially, die today or let the world struggle on a little longer.

The cutscene transitions into gameplay again and I have six shots. I feel like Sam would sacrifice himself to save the world at this point so I fire off a shot. Goes straight through. I fire the rest, none hit...

Ok.

Right, maybe I can... attack another way? I put the gun away and approach, but as I get to her there's a prompt: R2 - Hug.

Sure, why the hell not.

Sam embraces Bramelie and says "I'm here for you always, like you were there for me". Cut back to child Sam on a beach with Bramelie approaching, replaying the dream catcher sequence. "When you're all grown up, you'll need it to stop me." She says she's a fixed point in time and couldn't tell Sam what to do, only guide through dreams and nightmares to find a connection that bound it all together: the most important thing was the bonds that brought humanity together.

She says she is The Beach and has to stay to complete the Stranding, but she can shield the other beaches from the stranding. She says that extinction may be inevitable, but before each event, life rebelled and hope endured to push on and evolve in order to survive. The extinction is not just an ending but an opportunity. She says goodbye and pushes Sam I to the ocean to be repatriated.

I am definitely going to need one of those "ending of death stranding explained" articles.

Sam wakes up next to the photo of his family and one of the baby dolls. Bramelie's words echo in my ear "guns won't work here, but still have a role to play". Am I meant to shoot myself? Can't seem to equip it so I run. The credits begin and then stop when Sam runs out of steam and Bramelie appears to monologue some more. Now more running and credits. Hey I recognise that rock, I think this beach may be infinite. Bramelie is recounting her operation for uterine cancer and during it she went to the beach, but didn't fully come back, Bridget the body in reality and Amelie in the beach. That's why Amelie aged and Bridget did. Oh we're doing the name reveal with air writing Voldemort style: Ame is french for soul and lie is english for lie: soul lie. Clever.

Ok stand up for more credit running. More monologuing. I guess that's one way to make sure people pay attention for the credits. She talks about how extinction is a catalyst for evolution and survival, refusing to surrender to the will of the universe.

More credit run. Honestly my mind's gone at this point. She says, I think, that she killed Sam as a baby and then regretted it and sent him back from the beach, and began spreading her nightmares to everyone with DOOMS when she sent him back.

Ok now credits proper. Bloody hell this is long. I'm just crouched and rapidly tapping R2 to make it look like Sam's wanking just to relieve the tedium and because I am a child.

Right. Jesus, this must be it. Gun won't help quote again. Yep, shoot himself. I figured that out before this began but you wouldn't let me. Oh, nope, it's empty, I wonder if it always would be or just because I fired all the shots. Bramelie says I have to live and she brought me back together with Cliff.

I see five BTs floating over the ocean, try to get the but again washed back. BT hand prints stomping by. I just want to leave now. I can hear the other characters' voices, finally see Bramelie again, run to her and wander into the sea. This time it works and I'm dragged under by Deadman holding Lou.

That took an hour and sixteen minutes.

How much more is there? *checks youtube* Oh fuck me, a whole extra hour!? I don't have time for this right now. I'll come back later. That's longer than your average Star War. Jesus Hideo, get an editor.

[simsadventures]

Don’t Go

Summary: You and Negan are a couple, ruling over the Sanctuary. What happens when your cars broke down in the middle of nowhere, and the dead start to crawl out of their holes?

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, angst, angst (I cried writing, so there’s that), zombies, death of a character

Word Count: 2107 A/N: This piece was written for the celebration of the amazing @negans-lucille-tblr Bee and her 2k followers (now almost 2.5k) #bees2kwritingchallenge, my prompt was 6: You must be once in a lifetime. (sorry for posting it so close to the deadline, dear). 

It is also the first time I’m writing for Negan, so excuse me if it isn’t that good. I’m not too far in the TWD, so any mistakes are on me and I’m sorry in advance. 

Masterlist

Time seemed to have stopped. You’ve been trying to fight off those fucking zombies for what seemed like an eternity and more were still coming. You couldn’t even remember how you got there in the first place. 

 It was dark when you left Alexandria and tried to go back to the compound when suddenly, the engine of your car made a weird noise and the car halted to a stop. It wouldn’t be too much of a problem if the other car didn’t suddenly have the exact same problem. What the actual fuck? 

 Someone must’ve implanted something in your cars while you were scavenging for resources. There wasn’t any other way. This couldn’t have been a coincidence. You cursed and look at your leader. Negan was sitting there, quietly contemplating what to do. You knew he was pissed just by the slight twitch in the right corner of his mouth. 

  You two didn’t need words. You knew each other too well to have to use such old-fashioned communication. It took you one look at him, and you knew pretty much his every thought.

 But it hasn’t always been like that between the two of you. When you appeared in front of the Sanctuary, everyone was suspicious of you. You were a small, thin woman and they were supposed to believe that you survived, on your own, for many weeks, escaping from one of the more populated cities in search for something better, safer? 

  Negan was in the front row of your non-believers. He would question you for hours, let you sleep in the tiny cell, just in case you’ve been infected or were a spy, or something like that. You were attracted to him from the very first second. You were quite positive that he was the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, apocalypse or not. The sex-appeal was just oozing out of him.

  When he finally understood that you were just good at surviving, he let you live and work for him. He would hit on you, from time to time, but nothing too extensive and you didn’t really give it a thought. You knew he had multiple wives, each more fake than the other. And you weren’t like that at all. You liked to help others, wanted to participate in any work you could find. You never wore much make-up, but with the shit hitting the fan, you abandoned any dolling up altogether and was always your natural self. No, you definitely weren’t Negan’s type. 

 But he started to give you more and more of his attention, you began to question him and his motives. “You’re just trying to get into my pants, aren’t ya, boss? Not gonna happen, go to one of your wives and leave us plebs do our job.” You smirked at him. You knew he didn’t like to be said no, and such a direct rejection was sure to cause you some trouble.

 “Aww, pretty girl. You think you can open that mouth on me, without any consequences? I’m your Saviour, you know that, right? How about you used that mouth for something better?” It was his time to smirk, and you just rolled your eyes at him. “Ain’t gonna happen and you know that, Negan. See ya tomorrow!: With which you turned around and walked away from him.

  This encounter made Negan even more interested in you. No-one had the guts to tell him no, even if it was a quick fuck. After this, Negan started to follow you like a lost puppy, trying to get you into his bed, but in the meantime, he was learning about you. He knew which Saviours pissed you off and with which you liked to spend your free time, once you’ve been accepted to this ‘holy position’. He also saw how your eyes lit up whenever you heard any music, or how you scrunched your nose adorably when you tried to not laugh too hard at something. 

 He hated himself and you for the sudden interest you woke in him. He should’ve been the strong leader, no weaknesses, but the longer he spent with you, the more he wished he could just let his walls down with you. 

 And after he gave up his wives for you, he did. He told you all about Lucille, about his previous life, about his old hobbies and other stuff he never even remember since the apocalypse started. And you did the same. You let him in, this big bad wolf, who was, however, very soft to you and you knew he’d do anything for you. You loved him, and he loved you. You were the king and queen, and nobody could overthrow the two of you.

 Negan hated that you still wanted to be a Saviour, even after agreeing to actually marry him, not that bullshit he did with his ‘ex-wives/fuck-toys’. He wanted you at home, where nothing could happen to you. But you were too stubborn for him to have even a slight chance of persuading you. So Saviour it was, and Negan kept a good eye on you, whenever you went out of the compounds. 

 So now, sitting in the damn car that just wouldn’t start, with the sun getting real low, he was on the verge of making a scene. He wanted everyone home and safe, especially you. He needed to protect you at all costs. 

 “Do you think we should walk home or stay here and try to survive the night here, in the cars?” You asked Negan quietly so that the others wouldn’t hear you. “Shit, I have no idea, doll. I want to do what’s best for everyone but right now? I have no fucking idea what that is.”

 You sighed and looked out of the window. “I think it’d be better to stay here and try to survive the night. When we don’t come in, they’ll send someone to look for us, and the cars are at least some protection.” 

  Negan nodded absent-mindedly. He knew you were right, so he hollered at the others to stay put and try and survive the night. 

 It was after about an hour that you could see the first movement outside. At first, you could see about three dead walking towards your car, but in a few minutes, there seemed to be more than twenty. You knew you had to get out of the car and fight them because they would get into the car and you’d have no chance by then. 

 You looked at Negan, who just nodded and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you into a quick kiss. “Just stay safe, doll, alright?” You rolled your eyes and pecked his lips once again. “Always, boss.” 

 You were a little reckless, Negan always told you so, because you rarely thought about all the consequences your actions could evoke. And this time was no different. You saw one of the Saviours fighting with two dead and ran to help him.

 They were strong as hell, but you managed to pull one of them from Harry and cut off his head with your blood-soaked machete. You went to high-five Harry when suddenly you heard a roar somewhere behind you, and a dead you didn’t see before launched himself onto you. He pretty much jumped at your back, and as much as you tried to fight him, you weren’t quick enough.

 You could feel searing pain shooting from your neck, and fell to the ground. In the same moment, someone killed the motherfucker. You stayed at the ground, contemplating. You didn’t want to touch your own neck, you knew all too well what you’d find there, and you weren’t ready for that reality check. 

 You knew you had to. So you closed your eyes and raised your hand to feel it. And it was there, clear as a day. A huge bite-mark was sitting at the nape of your shoulder. You shivered. There was no going back. This was it. 

 Negan saw you on the ground, and for a split second, he thought you were dead. He jumped to his feet and ran towards you, when he saw you were moving, even if ever so slightly and slowly. He huffed out a breath he didn’t know was holding and smiled. You were alright. 

 “Hey, doll, you ok?” He crunched next to you. Most of the dead seemed to be taken care of, so he didn’t need to be that alert. 

 You looked up to him, and in that second, his heart stopped. You were scared, that much was obvious, but hell, the pain in your eyes was unbearable for him. “What is it, Y/N? What happened?” 

 But you couldn’t talk. You were afraid that if you tried and explain, you would start screaming from pain and fear of the unknown. But one thing was clear to you: you wouldn’t become one of them. 

 So you just bared your neck and showed it to the love of your life. He took in a deep breath but didn’t say anything. This was as painful to him as it was to you. He couldn’t lose you, not you. He could lose the whole Sanctuary, he could live without the power and other shit. But not you. You were the light of his days. Whoever you smiled at him, he knew everything would be alright, as long as the two of you were together. This was just a bad dream, this couldn’t have been happening. 

 “I’m so sorry,” you sobbed out and collapsed into his arms, which send you both to the ground. “I was reckless again and I just-“ you couldn’t finish the sentence as another sob found its way out of your throat. 

  “Shh, doll. It’ll be alright, we’ll be alright.”

 “No we won’t, Negan, not this time, baby. You gotta do it, you gotta shoot me. Take someone’s gun and just end it.”

 He looked at you, horrified. “What? NO! I can’t possibly kill you, you lost your fucking mind, doll? You are my everything, you are my once in a lifetime, I can’t let you go.” He was now crying too. God, you hated it when he cried.

  You slightly smiled at him and wiped away the tears staining his perfect face. “I can’t turn into one of them, I just can’t. I won’t recognise you, and you’ll be forever stuck with the image of my zombie body. No, I need you to remember me like this, pretty and stubborn and yours.” 

 He shook from the sobs, leaving his body. “How can I kill the only good thing in my life, doll, huh? How am I supposed to say goodbye to you, tell me.” He was now screaming at you. You didn’t want to let go but knew it was necessary.

 You vaguely saw someone coming and putting their gun next to where you were embracing each other. Everyone must have heard you two talking, but you didn’t give a shit at that moment. This was yours and Negan’s moment, and you wouldn’t let anyone ruin it for you two. 

 “I know, I don’t wanna say goodbye either, but we have to. Look at the bright side, I’ll be waiting for you, wherever that’ll be- heaven or hell, I’ll wait for you, baby. But you gotta let me go, you gotta do what you do best, be their leader, don’t let this bring you to your knees. Big bad Negan doesn’t have a weakness, so don’t let them make me one.” 

  “You can’t be my weakness when you’re my whole world.” He knew he had to do it. He wouldn’t let anyone else touch you, so it had to be him, and that was breaking his heart. He took a deep breath and picked up the gun. It felt heavy in his hand, heavier than ever before. He started to cry again.

 “You know I love you, right? That there ain’t nobody, who can fill the void left behind you in my heart?” You smiled and kissed him. “I know, but try and be happy, before you join me, ok?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll never forget you, and I’ll never stop loving you, Y/N.” He kissed you, passionately, the kiss conveying all the emotions he couldn’t really put into words, and it made you cry even harder. 

 You gulped when you separated, and he sat down properly. You nodded at him, telling him that you were ready whenever he was. 

 He looked at you one last time, cursed all the Gods he knew for taking you away from him, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

[jloves-pp]

Little book of magic-chapter 3

Chapter 3

There were strange happenings in the attic; there was a faint sound that had awoken a teenage boy from his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes, wondering what woke him and recognise it was his friend.

"Hey Baby Tooth" the boy said to the fairy. She fluttered as she watched her friend slowly stand up, he felt a bit dizzy and a bit confused. "This is...an attic" he said looking around, the boy saw the fairy nodding and squeaked (which is how she talked) to him. "Yeah I know, let's find a way out" as he looked, he found his wooden staff that had a G shape at one end of it. After picking the staff up, the boy and Baby Tooth walked around the boxes and furniture to find a way out.

He saw a window on the other side of the room and thought it was the perfect way out. He placed a foot down and quickly pulled it back, he had stood on something, he thought it was some rope. Curious, he knelt down for a better look, Baby Tooth hovered next to him and they both discovered it wasn't rope but golden hair. Their eyes followed the hair and saw it continued around a corner. The duo found that the trail of hair seemed to go on forever but finally they found the end.

The boy's eyes widened when they saw it led to a sleeping girl.

He slowly walked up to her, trying not to wake her to take a better look. She wore a pink and purple dress with colourful stitching on the skirt. Her very long hair was almost covering her like a blanket the rest spilled out across the floor. He was able to see her round face with a small scattering of light freckles across her small button nose.

The boy thought she was beautiful and wondered why was she up there? He and Baby Tooth looked at each other but neither of them knew what to do. They heard a sound that made them jump a little. They soon saw what made the noise it a small green chameleon, it was popping out from behind the girl, giving them a glare. The boy took a few steps back and held his arms up, thinking the creature was going to jump on him. The girl started to stir. The chameleon turned, this gave the boy and fairy a chance to hide, Baby Tooth hid in her friend's hood while the boy hid behind a stack of old books. He knew that he wouldn't be seen and it was better to be safe than sorry.

The blonde haired girl yawned, stretched and on opening her eyes she found her pet chameleon smiling at her " Good morning Pascal" she said cheerfully before letting Pascal climb on to her hand. "How did you sleep? How about we make cupcakes today? Red velvet ones". Her bright smile faded when her little friend squeaked and for the first time, she look up and her eyes widened. She thought she was in her home but she found herself somewhere she didn't recognise.

She quickly stood up, wondering where she was. The boy could see the fear on her face growing, he wished he could help but knew she couldn't see or hear him, just then he stepped on an old floorboard and it creaked. The girl jumped at the sound and quickly grabbed something from the chair. He was surprised to see, what she was holding was a frying pan. Before he could question why she had a frying pan he heard...

"Who's there? You should know I'm not afraid and if you don't come out, I'll find you and you'll be sorry"

The boy thought she couldn't be talking to him (he was invisible) but he didn't have time to stand there all day and she was in the same situation as he was. Not knowing what else is do, he breathed in, held up his hands and stepped out into the open.

The blonde haired girl was taken back by who had stood out, she expected a huge ugly thug with pointy teeth, instead she saw a boy around her age. Strangely he was pale and had white spiky hair, he wore brown trousers that were torn at the ends and strange blue clothing (a sweatshirt) which she had never seen before. She couldn't help think to herself that this boy-whoever he is, is handsome but maybe it was because he was the first boy she had ever seen.

Seeing her lower the frying pan and looking straight at him, a hopeful thought came into his head

"Wait, you...you can see me" he said without a second hesitation.

She was confused by this. Of course she could see him, what an odd question but she still held her pan in readiness and said

"Yes, I can see you. Now I have a question. Who are you and why did you bring me here?"

He couldn't fight a smile growing on his face but he came back to reality by Pascal who was perched on the girl's shoulder groaning at him,

"Wait you don't know who I am?

"No", she replied as she and her chameleon shook their heads.

"Ok, first my name is Jack Frost".

"Jack Frost?" She replied in bewilderment, she had heard of the winter spirit but she couldn't recall where.

"Yeah the same one and second, it seems were in the same boat" Jack continued as he placed his staff on his shoulder.

"So you didn't kidnap me… and want to use my hair?" The girl questioned.

"What, no, why would I want to do that? I just awoke and found myself here like you" Jack explained

She thought before asking

"But how do I know if I can trust you", she knew she shouldn't trust strangers, it was what her mother had always told her, but she didn't know where or how far she was from home but something was telling her to trust him.

"Well, once we get out of this place I can take you home, straight home, in no time. That's my promise", Jack said before holding out his hand.

The girl looked at his hand, she glanced at Pascal who simply shrugged at her and then to Jack. It was a fair deal, she needed all the help she could get and she also never broke a promise. Finally she said,"My name is Rapunzel", as she shook his hand, she was a bit surprised by how cold he was but knowing who Jack was she expected it.

"Rapunzel? That's an unusual name!" The winter spirit commented, Jack had heard of a story about a girl with long hair, he wondered if she was the same one, which doesn't seem impossible. As he said this Baby Tooth flew by and started chirping at Jack who just smirked.

"Is that a hummingbird? I've never seen one like that before" Rapunzel asked, looking in wonder.

"Actually, she's a fairy. A tooth fairy to be exact" Jack explained rubbing his neck. "Say hi Baby Tooth"

Rapunzel held up her hand to let Baby Tooth landed on it.

"Hey there little one, oh and this is my best friend Pascal" Rapunzel giggled holding out her other hand up for the chameleon climb onto.

The two small creatures tilted their heads and smiled and then started chatting to each other. Both teens smiled at their companions, they watched them before Jack cleared his throat,

"We'd better start looking for a way out"

"Oh right" Rapunzel replied before she put Pascal back on her shoulder "Mother will be worried sick when she finds I'm gone".

"Hey, we'll get you home soon", Jack said flashing her a smirk which cheered Rapunzel up, with Baby Tooth flew ahead, Jack and Rapunzel move carefully forward the maze like room but it didn't take long till Rapunzel called out,

"Look, there's a door" Jack turned to see it, Rapunzel was moving quickly, she was too distracted to notice an old doll that she stepped on. She almost fell but Jack saved her in the nick of time. Rapunzel caught her breath, she gasped and realised she was floating a few feet in the air.

Jack had flew up and quickly grabbed her by the waist, he steadied her and reassuringly said

"It's ok Punzie I got you" in a calming voice, when he saw how surprised she was.

The winter spirit gently landed the both of them back on the floor. It was then they both noticed how close they were, they quickly separated, blushed and both laughed nervously.

"Wait, Punzie" she questioned as she tucked in a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah!" he said rubbing his neck "I thought I'd give you a nickname, you don't mind, do you?

"No, I don't mind, I've never had one before".

"Well good, I was going to call you that anyway ".

"Careful, Frost, you don't want mess with me", Rapunzel replied pointing her frying pan at him.

Jack couldn't help but find it cute when she tried to be tough even though she appeared to be sweet and innocent "OK, I've learned my lesson. I wouldn't mess with you" he playfully replied, they both laughed at this. In just short amount of time, they had become comfortable with each other it was they'd known each other for ages. Jack then noticed how beautiful Rapunzel's eyes were. Bright, spring green eyes, Rapunzel herself had noticed Jack's icy blue eyes, for a second she could of sworn she can could see snowflakes in them.

She was mesmerized until Rapunzel heard a low groaning sound. "What was that?"

"Probably rats". Jack simple answered, he had heard the sound but he thought it was something harmless "Nothing to be scared of",but as he said that, Rapunzel, Pascal and Baby Tooth saw ornaments on a nearby table being knocked over and the sound getting louder and louder. Rapunzel's eyes widened when she saw a large black lizard like foot, after a few moments, more of the strange creature appeared and revealed what looked like a dragon.

Jack turned he was shocked but he quickly gripped his staff and stood protectively in front of the golden haired girl, the two of them stood their ground when the creature spotted them with its green eyes and began to growl.

Seeing this, Baby Tooth flew into Jack's hood while Pascal hid in Rapunzel's hair.

The dragon growled deeply as it moved slowly closer while the two teens backed away. It would have ended in a fight if not for a voice crying out

"Toothless! Stop" a voice cried out, to the teens surprise, a boy ran from where the dragon had appeared and were more surprised to see him reach out a touch the dragon meaningfully. He was younger than Jack or Rapunzel, he wore a long sleeve shirt and brown trousers and a brown animal fur vest.

He turned to the others. "If you want to hurt Toothless, you'll have to go through me" he said standing in front of his friend.

"Hurt him?" Jack said in bewilderment, "If anyone was go to hurt someone one, it's that overgrown lizard", he added pointed his staff at the dragon who growled angrily at the spirit.

"No", Rapunzel said strongly and loudly than she thought, but she didn't want this to end in a fight. "Maybe there has been a huge misunderstanding, so maybe we should all start again; both boys looked at her before looking at each other

"Hi, I'm Rapunzel and this is Jack", she said brightly, holding out her hand to the boy.

"I'm Hiccup", he said and finished shaking her hand.

"Really, your name is Hiccup?" Jack tried to hide his laugher but wasn't hiding it well.

"Jack, be nice". Rapunzel said warningly giving him a hard stare and the dragon joined her by growling in a low rumble and showing his teeth.

"Yes, I know but it's not the worst and this is Toothless" Hiccup then said patting his friends head.

"Toothless?...But he has teeth, lots of teeth", Rapunzel pointed out but just as she said it, the dragon retracted his teeth which made both Rapunzel and Jack jump a little.

"Ok that's cool," Jack admitted after the shock. At that moment Pascal and Baby Tooth peeked out from their hiding places, they were scared but began to feel confident seeing the boy and his dragon.

"Oh Pascal, say hello to Toothless" Rapunzel said cheerfully, she had the chameleon in her hands and held him out so Toothless and Pascal could get acquainted.

"Big lizard meet small lizard" Jack commented joking as Hiccup took a closer look at Pascal. It was then that Pascal change to black, which made him look a bit like a mini Toothless.

"What kind of dragon is he?" Hiccup asked

"Pascal isn't a dragon..." Rapunzel began but,

"Though he's scary as one" she heard Jack say and playfully poke him in his arm, "aw" he moaned but grinned, he then turned to Hiccup "anyway, how do you get here?"

"Um, to be honest I don't know. I just woke up and found myself and Toothless here," Hiccup explained scratching his head in thought, it was very strange.

"Just like us", Rapunzel said before she stood up and placed Pascal back on her shoulder.

"Ok, so do you two know who or what brought us here?" Hiccup asked.

"Well we thought you might know", Jack then asked then added "like who or how many there were?"

"No, but they must have done something to us before they took us", Hiccup replied rubbing his neck.

"Yes but..."Rapunzel began but suddenly there was a loud BANG!

The sound made them all jump and turn to where the sound had come from in the far corner of the room.

"It's them! They're here" she squeaked quickly holding Jack's arm.

Toothless began to approach the corner where large boxes and other things were stacked as more bangs and crashes were heard.

"Be careful bud" Hiccup said before the three teens slowly walked up, ready for anything.

"Ok, me and Punz will go around the back and make them run while Hiccup and Toothless stay here and stop whatever it is from getting away" Jack whispered telling them his plan.

"But shouldn't we just escape?" Rapunzel question "We can easily leave with Toothless protecting us" she added holding out her hand to said dragon.

"Yes, but we don't know who that is or how powerful it maybe" Hiccup said, Toothless nodded in agreement as they heard another noise but then as they listened it became clear that it was someone talking and complaining.

"Maybe we should think of a Plan B" Hiccup commented after a moment.

"Ok what do you do suggest?" Jack turned to Hiccup but before Hiccup could speak...

"You know I can hear you"

A voice came behind the wall of boxes. The voice was definitely female but the boys thought it sounded like she had a Scottish voice.

"Now can anyone give me a little help to me get out of this mess?"

None of them spoke for a moment before Rapunzel asked,

"Aren't you able to climb out?"

"No" the voice responded "It's too unstable to climb",

"Can you see any opening?"

"Is there no way around" Jack asked still wary, still she might also have been kidnapped, like them.

"No, it's like a wall, there's not even so much as a crack" the voice said.

"Wait, look there", Hiccup suddenly said. As Jack and Rapunzel answered to the voice, he had been looking around and had spotted a thin gap within the wall of boxes.

"If we try to pull those boxes aside, the gap will be big enough to push out", Hiccup said to the others pointing at the boxes.

"Ok Punz, you pull this side and I'll pull this side", Jack said instantly taking charge.

They all started working to free the mystery person. They found their places and pulled, after a short while they managed to make the gap big enough.

Rapunzel said, "Can you see the gap now?" As she spoke they heard footsteps, they were getting loud, that meant someone was heading towards them.

"Aya! I found it!" replied a voice, suddenly an arm popped through the space they had made, then a leg followed.

"Nearly...there" they heard the voice groaned and with a few more pushes she popped out, she gave one last push the force of which almost made her bang into something but luckily for her, Hiccup was standing in front of the gap so he caught her.

Jack and Rapunzel released their grip and turned to see a girl with her arms around Hiccup's neck as he trying to hold her up.

"Are...are you…alright? ", Hiccup manage to say.

"I'm fine" she said as she found her footing and moved her hands to his shoulders and cleared her hair from her face, "But as soon as I get my hands on whoever's taken me l'll..." She started but stopped once her eyes locked with Hiccup's. He could see she had a roundish face with light freckles and a button nose but he was taken most by her sky blue eyes. He couldn't help but think she was the most beautiful girl he ever seen, his mouth opened as he stared.

The girl wasn't sure why but she couldn't help staring into his green eyes. To her, this boy looked normal, she saw gentleness and kindness in those eyes.

"Hi" she finally said after a moment.

"Hi" Hiccup replied feeling his cheeks redden, he realised he was still staring.

"Um…thank you...for catching me" She finally said giving shy smile.

"You're...you're welcome" Hiccup managed to say. For the longest time their eyes never left each other. It was like they were under a spell but it was broken when Jack cleared his throat. He and Rapunzel were watching them, both wondering what to do.

Hiccup and the girl let go of each other and moved back a few steps, she brushed herself down, the three teens could see the girl was wearing a bluely-green dress, her long sleeves had been cut revealing white puffy fabric. Around her waist was a quiver which held arrows and her light coloured bow over her shoulder but the one thing they found shocking was her hair, she had a mass of long red curly hair.

"Hi, I love your hair. I've never seen hair that colour before" Rapunzel said brightly "Then again I've never seen people with brown or white hair either".

The redhead at first didn't know what to reply to that. It was then she noticed Rapunzel long hair.

"Oh and I like yours", she had seen long hair before but Rapunzel was so long, her eyes follow the long trail of hair until she saw next in the hair was something black and looked up to see Toothless. When she saw the creature, the redhead took a few steps back, more out of shock than fear.

"Is...is that... "she managed to say.

"Well if you mean is that a dragon? Then yes, this is Toothless and he's really harmless, err most of the time!" Hiccup softly said to calm her as said the dragon stood next to his rider and Hiccup petted him.

Toothless groaned softly in reply which made her jump a bit. "Well he just said it's nice to meet you" Hiccup said which made her laugh a little.

"I've never seen one before" she said before looking at the dragon "It's grand to meet you too!" Toothless responded to this and gave her a big toothless smile, the redhead smiled brightly.

She looked at Hiccup then at Toothless "You're friends with a dragon?" she asked.

"Well this is great and all but we should've just asked your name first" Jack finally interrupted.

"Oh Merida, my name is Merida" The redhead replied grinning. "So I now met Toothless but I don't know your name"

"Oh sorry" Rapunzel said first. "I'm Rapunzel and this is my friend Jack", she added, pointing to the White haired boy.

"And you? What's your name" Merida asked turning to Hiccup, startling him.

"Ur..ur" Hiccup muttered feel his cheeks pink up. "H...Hiccup"

Merida was about burst out laughing but she noticed he sad expression, he was embarrassed by his name. "I've heard worse" she said and saw a small smile on Hiccup's face.

"Yeah anyway" Jack interrupted again "I guessing you woke up here as well", Jack continued leaning on his staff.

"Err aya!" Merida replied crossing her arms and looking through the gap where she had emerged from. '' I don't know who brought me here but it looks like I'm not the only one"

"Well that's my question, why are we here, why us?" Jack asked. They all looked at each another, wondering about question. They were starting to have their own ideas on why they all seemed to be collected together, all four knew whoever had kidnapped them would make them selves known soon and they needed to escape before they arrived.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Numb- Epilogue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10- END

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: angst/ fluff

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sexy times

Word count: 2788

   “She’s not here is she?”    “Buck, they’re just running late, that’s all.”    “No, Steve! She probably has realised what a mistake she’s made and now has run off with the pool boy!”    Steve threw his head back in frustration and grumbled out a ‘you really need to stop watching ‘Desperate Housewives’. “Y/N has not run off, okay? Just… let me call Wanda.”    But right on cue, Pietro whizzed to them, the man’s silver hair dishevelled, while he tried to smooth down the tux, Wanda standing on her own two feet after being carried by the speedster. The navy dress hugged her sides perfectly, her long ginger hair swept over her left shoulder and bouncing in perfect curls.    “You guys need to come.”    Bucky immediately straightened out. “Is Y/N okay? Did something happen?”    “Yes, something did,” Wanda snapped back as she went to talk to the man standing beside the two super soldiers. “So I suggest you run.”    The pair took off in a dead-sprint, eyes of other people following their movements filled with worry. They had just entered the mansion when Steve’s phone rang.    “Yeah, Nat. We’re on our way. What’s going on?”    The brunet couldn’t help the clench in his heart as he saw his friend’s eyebrows furrow.    “Cancel? What?”    Bucky’s head immediately hung, eyes welling with tears at the verbal confirmation of what he’d been fearing for the past year.

   “How long?” Steve questioned further and that made Bucky frown. Usually, when you call off a wedding it’s permanently.    “Ok,” Cap replied, “we’ll be right there.”    “What? What is it?” Bucky’s body flushed with fear at the thought of anything bad having happened to Y/N.    “She’s locked herself in the bathroom and won’t come out. She threw water on the floor and zaps anybody that even tries to come close.”    The two men walked into what was Y/N’s room to find the rest of her bridesmaids all ready to go without the bride herself.    “Finally,” Nat stood up and sauntered into the hallway. “Get your girl in check and call us back when things are on track. I have no desire to walk in these heels with my toes fried off.”    Bucky quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t question it, turning his full attention to the locked white oak door, where Y/N had barricaded herself in.    “Doll? It’s me. Can you let me in?”    There wasn’t a reply, only a soft sob, indicating that the woman was crying.    “Darling please, talk to me. Why do you want to cancel the wedding?”    Suddenly the door sprung open to reveal a dishevelled Y/N. Her makeup was completely smudged, black mascara and eyeliner running down her cheeks and across her temples, her hair was a mess, having come undone from the beautiful braids that had been pinned to her scalp in a bun. The white hotel robe was tearstained and with dark smudges from her eyeshadow, while cream lipstick adorned the collar. “Because everything is ruined.” Y/N threw her body at Bucky and he easily caught her, his strong arms enveloping the woman in a warm embrace.    “Shh, nothing is ruined, honey. Everything is perfect.”    “No, it’s not,” Y/N pulled back from him.    “See that?” the woman pointed at what looked like a giant ball of white lace. “That was supposed to be my wedding dress. Now it’s ripped in half! It was Tony’s mother’s dress! And it’s ruined! I ruined it!” Y/N cried harder remembering how Pepper had been rummaging through Tony’s old storage units and stumbled upon the beautiful vintage gown. Diamond beads hung from the off the shoulder neckline, her fingers trailing the intricate design. She had immediately known that it would be perfect for Y/N. With a little bit of tweaking here and there, it would entwine the modern of the twenty-first century and give life to the olden days. Once Tony had found out about Pepper’s discovery they had given it to Y/N as a wedding gift.    “Those were my shoes,” she pointed at the off-white pumps. Well, a pump as the other one was clearly missing a heel, in fact, the whole sole had been ripped open.    “But best of all- the engagement ring is missing! I’ve scoured every inch of this place and it’s gone! Buck, it’s gone! Everything has turned to shit and this was supposed to be our special day! And it’s all my fault.”    Bucky glanced at her ring finger on which for a year had sat a beautiful silver band with a little diamond rectangle in the centre of it. Yet now there was nothing, only her skin in a slightly lighter shade than the rest of her body. The man still recalled how nervous he’d been when he had uttered those words.    He hadn’t planned it, though the little black box had been sitting in the back of one of their drawers for a good five months. It had been a simple evening, the rest of the team were out bar-hooping, while the two lovebirds stayed inside, having come back from a three-week long mission and wanting nothing more than to sleep and cuddle.    Y/N’s eyes had drowsily followed along the story of ‘Stardust’ and it was right at the end when Yvonne shone so brightly it obliterated the old witch, Bucky knew that there was not going to be a perfect moment, no matter how hard one tried to make it. There was only now. So with his nose still hidden in Y/N’s Y/H/C hair, he uttered the little phrase that sent her heart reeling.    “What?” with wide eyes she looked back at him, now fully awake.    “Marry me,” Bucky cupped her cheek.    “Y-you’re serious right now?”    He was looking over her features trying to decipher what was going on in Y/N’s mind, but he couldn’t, seeing only disbelief. “I've never been more serious about anything in my life.”    The girl had looked at him for a long minute without uttering a word, Bucky didn’t think she was even breathing, but then her lips crashed against his and the heavy make-out session turned into the most mind-blowing sex he’d ever had.    Only when Bucky felt his brain go back to normal, the stars disappearing from behind his lids as well as the haze from his thoughts, with very wobbly and shaky legs did he stand up, and went to retrieve the ring. He was almost unable to open the drawer as he had to lean against the wardrobe from being a bit lightheaded.    He had returned back to their bed, Y/N laying on it still completely naked, her eyes closed as her body spammed one last time from the best orgasm she’d ever had. She slowly looked to her left and felt how Bucky pushed the little silver circle on her ring finger. It glimmered in the moonlight and the soft smile that appeared the man’s face as he looked down at her was the best companion to it.    “I love you, Bucky Barnes,” Y/N leaned in and deeply kissed the Avenger before hugging him tightly and stroking his sweat-covered back. They had fallen asleep like that, in one another’s arms, and now, seeing the woman so broken, so frustrated in what was supposed to be their happiest day, his heart hurt with her.    “Y/N it’s alright. We’ll figure something out. We don’t have to cancel the wedding.”    “Are you kidding me?” she looked up at Bucky. “And what am I supposed to wear? My ‘Ninja Turtles’ pj’s and Sam’s ‘My Little Pony’ blanket as my veil? Should I wear Wanda’s barbie pink flip-flops as well? I was supposed to be walking down the aisle twenty minutes ago. I was supposed to be your wife by now.”    Bucky felt his heart speed up at the word ‘wife’, especially with how defeated Y/N looked.    “Listen,” he sighed and picked the woman up, placing her against his chest while he himself sat down on a plush chair. Instantly she curled up into his side, the man’s arms stroking down her arms and things. “I don’t know if this is going to help at all, but in the morning, I was ready to call it off as well. I couldn’t find my socks, I looked everywhere, I checked all the bags and there was nothing. My mind kept telling me that if all the little things are not in place, it’s not worth it to even try. But then, when I looked down and saw that they were already on my feet I realised I had panicked about nothing. Because it doesn’t matter if things are perfect. When you’re with the right person, they will be no matter what. I love you,” he brushed away a stray tear that slowly rolled down Y/N’s cheek, “and even if I had to stand in front of everybody in my boxers I would. If that made you happy, I’d do it. I’d do anything. So if you wanna call off the wedding, we can, but I just want you to know, that it doesn’t matter to me if you have the most expensive dress and the most outrageous jewellery. You’re mine and I’m yours. No matter what.”    “Yeah,” Y/N whined out, “but the difference is that you actually have clothes to wear. I have nothing. All my makeup is ruined and so is my hair.”    Bucky was just about to reply when a panting Natasha burst into the room.    “Barnes, get out. We have a bride to prepare.”    Wanda barrelled in next followed by Maria and Nakia, all of them carrying different items.    “Leave and wait by the altar. She’ll be ready in half an hour. And if you’re not there I’ll rip that metal arm of yours off and shove it down your throat so far,  you’ll be shitting vibranium for the rest of your life.” Nat spoke up before pulling Y/N out of his lap.    The man chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, barely avoiding the kick Hill sent to his butt.

   Bucky fidgeted with the cufflinks until music fluttered through the air, his blue eyes immediately going to where Y/N stood at the end of the aisle. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw her. The ivory dress was light, the pretty much non-existent winds still managed to make it flutter through the air. Her hair was down from the bun and now freely went over her shoulders, a beige flower tucked behind her ear. The smokey eye was nowhere to be seen, her makeup barren and natural, accentuating her already beautiful features. Bucky instantly recognised the gown as Pepper's as she was going to wear it on the second day of the wedding, though now, seeing Y/N in it, there was no doubt in his mind, that this was the dress.    Her hand was linked through Tony’s as he led the woman towards who was going to be her husband. Her feet were bare, and soundless making Bucky think, she was an actual angel that had decided to stay on Earth, leaving heaven behind only to be with him.    He didn’t hear a word the priest said, his attention fully on Y/N. In a way, he was terrified he’d miss when the ‘I do’s’ were gonna have to be said, but Bucky didn’t spare a second once the question was asked, a blinding grin adorning his face when he heard Y/N reply as well.    Wife. She was his wife and he was her husband. He just stared at her, unable to stop his smile and the warm feeling floating through this body. Until he heard snickering and snapped out of the daze. The guests were giggling as was Y/N. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion, but then he felt a soft tug on his jacket.    He looked back and saw Dominic, the boy clearly trying to suppress laughter as he held out the little pillow on which two golden rings sat on. Bucky had watched the boy grow up to be good, nothing like what his mother was. His father had kept in touch with the super soldier allowing him to explain why Katrina was locked in a prison, why she had been forbidden to contact him and when Dom had grown up enough to understand the error of her ways, he forgave the woman, yet told Bucky he didn’t want to have any sort of communication with her.    “I don’t want to have her in my life when she hurt you. For no reason at all.”    “Dom, you’re young and whatever happened between me and her, it’s our business. She’s still your mom.”    “If she truly was, then she would’ve realised how important you were to my me. And how much you cared for Y/N. You made me happy when things were bad, so I wanted you to be happy as well. But what she did made you completely opposite. She's not my mom. Just somebody who pretended to be.”    Bucky chuckled as he took the ring and turned back to Y/N. Once the engagement had been announced, he invited both Dominic and his dad to the wedding, asking the boy to be the ring-bearer.    “You know, if there was anybody I thought who could possibly lose a ring, I thought it would’ve been him,” Bucky pressed a kiss to Y/N’s knuckles. “Wife.”    “Hush,” she shushed him, but the smirk never left her face. Her fingers delicately slipped a copy of her own ring onto Bucky’s finger, the little loop clicking in place when it found the spot. T’Challa and Shuri had specifically designed a new arm for him so that when they married the band wouldn’t slip and fall. So that it would become one with the limb. Like Y/N would become one with his soul.    “…. I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the b-“ but the priest didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence when Bucky’s lips were already on Y/N’s, hands woven around her waist and pulling their bodies flush together. And she could reply with nothing else but the same passion.

   The newlyweds themselves had slipped away a while back. They sat in one of the swing sofas by the ocean under some palm trees, Y/N’s legs thrown over Bucky’s. His shoes were discarded in the white sand while the jacket covered her shoulder, keeping the girl warm from the gentle winds.    “I love you” he whispered, cupping Y/N’s jaw and bringing their lips together as the morning sun peeked it’s head over the water, painting the world in pinks and oranges and yellows.    “I love you too,” she replied once Bucky allowed them to come up for air. “And I’m sorry. For this morning. I shouldn’t have said that I wanted to cancel the wedding. It was the last thing I’d ever want to do.”    “ ’S okay. What’s important that it all worked out in the end.”    Y/N hummed and looked out in the distance “I guess it did…”    The unsure response made Bucky look down and he saw the woman chewing on her lip absentmindedly. “What’s wrong?”    “I don’t- I,” she huffed, “it’s just that I feel bad for overreacting, but also I have been dying to tell you something and I’m terrified of how you'll react.”    “Doll, you know that you can tell me anything. Nothing you say will ever make me stop loving you. Besides, a) we’re married, so breaking things off would be kinda hard and b) I don’t wanna repeat what happened last time when we held on to our feelings.”    Y/N snorted and gazed up at Bucky, her palm pressing against his cheek. “No, nothing like that. It’-umm- it’s more important than that.”    “Nothing’s more important than love.”    The woman smiled and took his hand, placing it on her stomach. “I think taking care of a baby is.”    Bucky was stunned looking up and down from Y/N’s eyes to her belly. “A baby?” he managed to get out through a sob.    “Yeah,” her lips quirked up. “A baby.”    And this time it wasn’t the girl having a full on mental breakdown. But Y/N wasn’t afraid that Bucky didn’t want to have a kid with her, in fact, she was happy as he pressed his lips against her skin, whispering ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’ in her chest. Yet little did they know that in eight months time there wouldn’t be just one mini-Barnes running around, but two, making both adults wish they hadn’t quit the Avenger’s life when Y/N started showing, feeling like saving the world had been easier than tying your shoes. Though for now, they basked in the incredible feeling that was love and their new-founded family.

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A/N: and this ride has come to an end! thank you for sticking through and I hope you enjoyed it :))

P.S. if you wanna be tagged in future stories or have any requests, drop a message :)

P.S.S. feedback is always appreciated

P.S.S.S. please, don’t repost without credit :)

[momestuck]

Epilogues: Candy, chapters 1-5

This is gonna get long.

The Candy route is, in effect, the route where John refuses to go back to finish off Lord English, but remains on Earth C. Instead, the story begins by picking up another long neglected thread: Gamzee. Then it continues to various other places.

Contains: a rough recap of Gamzee’s story, a longwinded attempt to be evenhanded and not callous about the Gamzee Discourse, because it’s relevant again... and then I read the next three chapters, which visit some of the other characters, setting up the board for the new story (because let’s be real, this is a whole new story of its own at this point!)

a quick recap

It’s been three years since the comic ended so I’m gonna recap what I remember about Gamzee’s story. He was sent on a murderous rampage in the ‘murderstuck’ arc - there’s some debate if he was acting according to his own will, or that of Lord English’s agents, there, but either way he killed a large number of the ‘beta trolls’. He was ultimately stopped by Karkat, who deployed the ‘shoosh pap’ of establishing moirallegiance. During the three year meteor voyage, he entered into some kind of very harmful kismesis relationship with Terezi, but got very little screen time. And uh... then I get confused.

In the “game over” arc, he is mind controlled - I recall by Aranea - and used to bring about the deaths of most of the cast. This, of course, was retconned. Also I think I skipped over a bit.

And, in some capacity, he was present when Caliborn won the contest for dominance with Calliope. He assisted the young Caliborn’s villainous plan, and for his trouble got repeatedly shot to pieces, which he took silently.

And at some point he got locked in a fridge by the rest of the cast. We briefly see him get knocked about in there during ‘Collide’, and then he makes no further appearance.

Let’s go on the Homestuck wiki and see what I missed...

while under the sway of Lord English (murderstuck arc), he caused some of the kids to receive Lil Cal and a harlequin doll, which is what made their session ‘terminal’

he intervened in the alpha session, and was responsible for the prototypings of various dead trolls into combined forms

this:

The fridge remained on LOTAK until Lord Jack was decapitated which resulted in a black hole, somehow taking Gamzee, Crowbar's crowbar and Yaldabaoth to future Earth.

so i guess i missed that in all the chaos of Collide, but that explains how he ended up in Caliborn’s world.

also crucially, half of Gamzee is absorbed into Lil Cal along with Caliborn and Arquiussprite, which creates Lord English, the series villain.

so anyway...

The initial premise of this story is: John decides to remain in the C universe and enjoy his life instead of living in an undecisive fugue, rather than go out to fight Lord English and wrap up that side of the plot. Calliope makes a request of him: he should use his retcon powers to pull Gamzee out of the plot, someone ‘only he can save’.

The second chapter is basically a very sarcastic discourse post in Gamzee’s voice. Shortly after being rescued, Gamzee goes onto a long speech about how he’s prepared to redeem himself, and the ‘mitigating factors’ that make him worthy of redemption: (an ‘abusive childhood’ at the hands of his goat dad, and his socialisation). I’ll excerpt a bit to give you the general flavour, with the typing quirk removed for readability:

gamzee: i been all like. abused and stuff, homies.

gamzee: as a child, i got motherfuckin neglected on by a stern old fatherly goat.

gamzee: i was a disappointment on him, and can’t says i blame him for abandoning the shit out of his useless kid.

gamzee: i woulda motherfuckin done the same shit at me if i was a big cruel goat.

gamzee: so that explains like, pretty sure most of my crimes in a way that makes a motherfucker wanna take his forgiveness out for a fucking spin.

gamzee: there’s other reasons to consider, like...

gamzee: shit that makes this redemption arc fuckin tight like an uncracked elixir.

gamzee: like, hows my purple blood meant i got the culture pressures put on me to be a salty damn jester for life.

gamzee: what about that hand the messiahs dealt me, my bitches.

gamzee: a motherfucker’s gonna envy that like a wicked cod rash.

gamzee: so how can i full and truly fuckin get blamed on for, when it comes to a little bit of subjugglation i got culturally hornswoggled up to doing, and also tragically goat abused which needs to make you shed a tear for this motherfucker, lest you wanna be as atrocious as me.

This is reminiscent of V’s episodes in Friendsim, insofar as - we’re clearly not intended to buy it, but it’s directly mocking lines of argument in the fandom, about whether it’s ok to be a fan of Gamzee (because fandom is all about casting moral judgement on finding that you relate to fictional characters’ narratives in the wrong way, justifying your own attachments to characters and works as progressive, etc...).

By putting these arguments in a very explicit and ridiculous form (having Gamzee speak on whether he personally deserves a ‘redemption arc’), and then having the narrator and also popular characters such as Terezi dismiss them, V’s stance is fairly clear - at least these particular readings of Gamzee are to be dismissed. Terezi comments:

JOHN: apparently we’re going to let him have a “redemption arc”?

TEREZI: H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4

JOHN: yeah, it’s...

JOHN: well, what is there to even say?

JOHN: it’s literally the dumbest fucking idea i’ve ever heard, but what can you do.

TEREZI: SHOV3 H1M B4CK 1N TH4T FR1DG3 4ND THROW 1T 1N TH3 OC34N, 1S WH4T

There’s two ways the story can go from here. One might be that this is the last we’re going to hear about Gamzee, it’s just a quick fuck you to one particular set of readings of Homestuck, and then on to whatever V considers more important. Another is that, a more subtle story is about to be told than the deliberately absurd framing here.

I should state my own stance, since it’s probably going to be relevant. I had a friend who cared a great deal about Gamzee, in part because he was essentially a chew toy in the latter part of the comic, who could be treated violently without consequence, which - as far as I understand their feelings - my friend found meaningful in relation to their own experiences of abuse.

I recall thinking there was some credence to ‘mind control’ interpretations, which posit that the difference between Gamzee’s chill affect early on and his ludicrously violent behaviour later was the control of Doc Scratch and other agents of Lord English; Gamzee in this reading is aware, and horrified (as hinted at by a brief window where Aranea’s mind control is released during the Game Over arc and he is ‘himself’ again, and cries and begs for mercy, before once again becoming extremely violent). Whether this is the case during the ‘fridge’ section is not clear. This goes some way to explaining why Gamzee is indestructible, and mutely devoted to assisting Caliborn when Caliborn treats him with nothing but violence.

In this reading, Gamzee is a tragic character to the point of absurdity. He is forced to witness another person committing horrific actions with his body, and then abandoned by those who’d care for him because they do not recognise the mind control. His only escape from one mind controller is another one.

However, that’s just a reading. For fans who identify strongly with Terezi, Gamzee is often interpreted as her abuser due to the effect his relationship is shown to have during the asteroid voyage (pre-Game Over). To these readers, people - such as my friend - who identify with Gamzee are engaging in apologetics for abuse.

Because this is so fraught, I am not going to make any claim that a particular reading of Gamzee is ‘unambiguously true’. I think a third interpretation is the ‘shitty writing’ one, that Hussie basically intended Gamzee as a joke character, not one with interiority. He’s a scary clown! Perhaps he didn’t realise how strongly this character, who from the start was presented as someone to laugh at, would resonate with the readers.

I hope that this discussion gives some sense of the different possible nuances of Gamzee, and I am hoping that this epilogue will not simply be a polemic for one particular reading.

now, chapter 3+

I read the first two chapters right after I heard about the upd8. From now on, this will be a true ‘liveread’, i.e. written alongside my first readthrough of the story.

At this point we switch viewpoint character to Dirk! This is a very short chapter: Dirk cancels ‘everything’ - all his ongoing plans - and does not explain why to Jane, or Jake. Whatever the reason is, it’s very bad news and has a short time limit.

Apparently John’s decision to say has had some kind of metaphysical effect, which causes Rose’s mysterious malady - and her various anxieties concerning ‘canon’ - to dissipate.

So she gets to spend some time with Kanaya. This is nice - we barely got to see Rose and Kanaya together as a couple in canon. It’s a sweet conversation... and makes me worry about what’s going to happen in the ‘Meat’ route.

There’s a little clarifying on Jade, Dave and Karkat’s relationship now...

JADE: i never thought id be thinking of you as my weird nerd friend by the time we were in our twenties

It’s a weird, intimate, and uncomfortably close to sexual thing to be doing in front of other people. Dave and Karkat share a vaguely mortified look. Jade sort of lives here, but she doesn’t that sort of live here.

The expression is so warm and blatant that it can’t help but draw Jade’s attention. She frowns and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, making some quick calculations in her head. They’re so obvious, she thinks, and yet here they are. Virginal losers who are performative about sitting exactly a foot apart whenever they’re in public. It’s so pathetic it makes her want to howl at the moon in sorrow. 

so i guess we’re going to have a jade working very hard on getting dave and karkat together type arc

well i guess we are but oof, jade what the hell... jade decides to like, go in with all the subtlety of a train, aggressively flirt with karkat, up to the point of like, putting her fingers in his mouth... which to him is just like, a straight up assault. but it’s them who are ‘hopeless’, not her...

dave very awkwardly changes the subject to talk about the possible Jane presidency. apparently, Jane is very xenophobic towards trolls (which didn’t seem immediately apparent from the comic but I might have forgotten tbh). Karkat speaks of ‘the potential genocide of my people’

DAVE: but i dont think shed go so far as to commit genocide

DAVE: thats really exaggerating her faults

DAVE: like wed have to get pretty far away from the people we were when we started all this for that to be a viable outcome

...phrasing it like that... makes me rather apprehensive!

[pass-the-bechdel]

Dollhouse season one full review

How many episodes pass the Bechdel test?

92.3% (twelve of thirteen).

What is the average percentage per episode of female characters with names and lines?

46.83%

How many episodes have a cast that is at least 40% female?

Nine, over half (six of those were 50%+, one of them 60%).

How many episodes have a cast that is less than 20% female?

Zero.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Twenty-eight. Thirteen who appeared in more than one episode, six who appeared in at least half the episodes, and one who appeared in every episode.

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Forty-two. Eleven who appeared in more than one episode, five who appeared in at least half the episodes, and three who appeared in every episode.

Positive Content Status:

Not good at all. The series is rife with violence against women and involves sexual assault on a constant basis, with acknowledgment or exploration of such inclusions intermittent and interlaced with excuses. Needless to say, it never even gets close to flirting with an above-average content rating (average rating of 2.76).

General Season Quality:

A mess. There are elements of good things here, and some episodes that utilise that potential, but mostly this is a show that doesn’t seem to know what it wants to do or how far it really wants to pursue its own promises, and it is full of dead air and extremely questionable storytelling, wrapped around one of the least-dynamic lead characters I’ve ever seen. It’s a recipe for failure, and a disappointing one at that, because done right, this could have been truly amazing.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) under the cut:

Let’s nail down how consent works, because it might be the most important issue at the heart of this show that the writers just don’t seem to understand: consent is not a binding contract. Real consent is 

1. ongoing (may be revoked at any time if the individual in question wishes; must be re-established or renegotiated if the circumstances originally consented to change)

2. enthusiastic (if the individual becomes uncertain/uncomfortable with conditions, actions must halt until consent has been renegotiated and re-established)

3. informed (an individual cannot consent to terms that are obfuscated or omitted; consent gained through lies or trickery is not consent at all), and

4. willing (coerced consent - whether through threats, ultimatums, manipulation, or other means - is not real consent. If the individual is placed in a position where declining is not a viable safe option, they cannot give consent).

Pretty clear-cut, really. With that in mind, the only way that the Dollhouse could operate in an ethical manner would be if the dolls were genuine volunteers who were restored to their original personalities after every engagement, so that they could consider the requirements of each job as they arose and pick and choose which ones they were comfortable fulfilling; it would then also require that their imprinted personality include strict parameters agreed to beforehand to preserve their ability to revoke consent if their boundaries are violated. Of course, there would still be LOADS of ways for the technology to be abused, but that’s an irrelevant discussion in context, because that’s not how the Dollhouse operates. Many of the dolls are not willing participants from the outset, but even if they are, after being stripped of their personalities and memories they lose the power to make informed choices and their enthusiasm is all programmed in, and it’s irrelevant anyway because they are not presented the opportunity to give or deny consent in their ongoing situation. Whether or not the dolls can consent is not up for debate: by definition, plain and simple, they cannot. To suggest otherwise is kinda the same thing as when people say that marital rape isn’t a real thing, as if signing a marriage contract permits your spouse to override your bodily autonomy anytime they want. Consent can be fickle, subjective, and highly conditional, and those are all good things because they protect the basic human right to personal sovereignty. Consent is not a binding contract. 

Despite occasionally throwing around lines about how ‘you can’t consent to being a slave!’, the show doesn’t want to commit to the idea that the dolls are, unequivocally, being abused, and the failure to be morally assertive on that point leads to some seriously reprehensible presentations, most notably in terms of rape. The oft-repeated lofty idea behind what (theoretically) makes the Dollhouse ‘good’ is that they give people ‘what they need’, which mostly means fulfilling sexual fantasies. Naturally, this makes all of the Dollhouse clients who acquire a doll for sexual purposes, rapists. They know that’s what they’re getting into, too, they know that they’re paying big bank to have a person brainwashed into fulfilling their desires, which by definition means that the person is being denied the capability to give consent. This isn’t a naughty secret being hidden from the client; it’s a known factor which they’ve decided they don’t care about. They’re ok with taking advantage of this person in order to fulfill their ‘need’. Thus, the fact that Joel Miner just wants to play house with an imprinted version of his dead wife is not cute or romantic, it’s still rape, but the show doesn’t treat it that way: it’s directly handled like we’re supposed to be happy that he gets what he wants, in the same episode as the writing finally bothers to dabble vaguely in the concept of consent issues after it turns out that Sierra has been raped by her handler (while NOT imprinted to think she wants it). Thus, the episode in question draws a straight parallel between the idea that there’s ‘real rape’ (what Hearn does), and then there’s innocent wish fulfillment (what Miner and anyone else who bothers to have their victim programmed first does), and we shouldn’t conflate the two. Except, obviously, we should conflate the two. Both are rape. There’s not a moral grey-scale here, that’s like arguing that if you drug someone first so that they can’t resist, that’s less assaultive than if they were cognizant enough to struggle. Both are rape, both disregard the bodily autonomy of the victim and deny them the right of choice. ‘But I really miss my dead wife!’ doesn’t make it better, and it certainly doesn’t make it ok. And giving people ‘what they need’ at the expense of others is not virtuous - especially when you factor in the price tag attached to a made-to-order sex slave.

The above-referenced episode is one of the most egregious examples of this at play, but it’s a recurrent issue throughout the series, and not one that’s gonna go away. The story is not interested in analysing the fact that DeWitt has repeatedly raped Victor; her conflict about the issue revolves around the feeling that she - like the other Dollhouse clients - is pathetic for ‘needing’ programmed service. And while Ballard expresses misgivings about the idea of raping Mellie, he still does it, repeatedly, and there’s no condemnation from the narrative; we’re supposed to see this as a complication to Ballard’s moral compunctions, that he’s confronted with shades of grey in the black-and-white world he had imagined, but there are no shades of grey. You knowingly committed rape. More than once. The first time they had sex, when he didn’t know she was a doll? THAT is something Ballard can feel conflicted about, because he didn’t do it knowingly, he was not able to make an informed decision, his own ability to consent was impaired and he’s entitled to feel abused by the Dollhouse machinations that put him in that position. THAT is legitimate conflicted emotion. Going “fuck you, Dollhouse, you want to send me a sex slave, I’m gonna take out my conflicted emotions ON HER through what I readily recognise as rape”, that’s...not something a character can do and then still hang around on the show representing any kind of morality. That’s not even anti-hero material, that’s villainy, and if we respond to Hearn’s crimes by snapping his neck against a coffee table, why is Ballard still roaming around feeling righteous? The show is so sketchy on morality, it doesn’t even present Ballard’s attitudes as self-delusions, it isn’t exploring his descent into evil. Even from the first episode, it was unclear where the story really sat with Ballard, seeming simultaneously aware of the fact that he’s not as pure and heroic as he imagined himself, but also never pursuing the idea of exploring a more complex moral reality. If ‘now he’s a rapist but he feels bad about it (but not bad enough to NOT DO IT IN THE FIRST PLACE)’ is supposed to suffice as ‘deconstruction’, boy howdy, I got news. You can’t even pretend to deconstruct anything if you’re too busy equivocating to have an opinion in the first place.

I’ve used this word so much already in relation to this show that it’s starting to lose its meaning, but what Dollhouse really suffers from is a misogyny problem. I touched on it already in the episode ‘Omega’ when I talked about how Alpha’s ruminations on the nature of the self/consciousness/etc are undercut by the intense misogyny of his character and story, because his presence in the narrative and his impact on other characters is so heavily tied up in the violent expression of his misogyny that there’s no room for a clear-minded discussion of anything else, and in truth the entire series suffers from the same affliction. Misogyny is so ubiquitous in the story at the same time as being so rarely acknowledged that they can’t engage meaningful thematic discussions about anything else; misogyny is the elephant in the room, and so much space is being dedicated to it, there’s nowhere to squeeze anything else in edge-wise. The refusal to acknowledge the clear-cut nature of consent and thereby the inherent sexual assault built into the frame work of the narrative is part of this, but it also represents an insidious division between ‘real misogyny’ and the various kinds that the show doesn’t want us to acknowledge, the many and sundry equivocations it is entertaining in order to avoid having a moral backbone. Alpha literally slicing up women’s faces is ‘real misogyny’ (by the writers’ definition), and a character like Nolan putting Sierra in the Dollhouse so that he can have force her to have sex with him is ‘real misogyny’ (quite contradictory since Nolan still has his doll programmed to want him, just like all the other clients; apparently it’s only rape if the perpetrator is a mustache-twirling cackling supervillain type). Tanaka slinging off about ‘whores’ is ‘real misogyny’ that Ballard can take umbrage with, but Ballard’s infantalising obsession with calling women ‘girls’? We’re not batting an eye. The fact that Echo is repeatedly engaged by one Matt Cargill, whose rape sexual fantasy is all about teaching a ditzy inexperienced girl new things? Cute! Echo being violently beaten in more than three-quarters of the episodes this season, sometimes multiple times per episode? Eh, that’s normal. That’s normal writing. 

The ‘real misogyny’ is the stuff that the writing deems worthy of being called out, and like with the issue of creating a false grey-scale to excuse ‘softer’ rape crimes, this creates a situation in which more low-key misogyny can skate by unchecked because we’re being encouraged to view it comparatively, instead of objectively. If you’re talking about a violent serial rapist and you say “he calls women ‘girls’ all the time, too!”, it sounds like you’re being silly, because hello, there are much bigger problems to talk about. On the other hand, if you don’t sit around making softening comparisons, you can actually talk about how women being infantalised by men is a big problem that is part of a larger tapestry of misogyny, especially disturbing for the intersection with sexualisation (HUGELY at play with the dolls in their ‘doll state’), and relevant to the discussion of pedophilia (which, incidentally, the show featured TWICE in just thirteen episodes, but without any kind of exploration or commentary that would suggest an actual reason beyond the voyeuristic fetishisation of sexual violence which is this show’s bread and butter). Because the misogyny problem on this show is so all-encompassing (along with the rape-apologist grey morality, it is built into the framework of the series itself), the fact that it is never acknowledged and brought into the thematic conversation of the story blows a hole out the side of the writers’ ability to have any kind of sophisticated conversation about the morality of their subject matter: the combination of oblivious sexism and wanton avoidance leaves the moral compass of the story...nonexistent, really, smashed to pieces and rendered useless. It’s like they didn’t want to have to talk about the morality of the Dollhouse at all, they just wanted the narrative conceit of programmable people and the opportunity to indulge various objectifying fetishes, but since that’s not how storytelling works they figured they’d ramp up the ambiguity and pass off the lack of nuanced discussion as ‘shades of grey’, despite how inappropriate that is with sex trafficking. Thus, you get a show which treats “but if the perpetrator is sad, is it really rape?” like that’s a legitimate question.

Honestly, we could unpack this show forever, because all of it needs unpacking, because it’s riddled and stained irrevocably with garbage in a way that is pervasive and complicated, but I’m gonna let this lie for now. We’ll talk about it all more as season two unfolds, and when I review that season’s developments and eventually, the full series (save me). There’s loads of stuff that I didn’t even touch yet, so at least I know I won’t be starved for content. I did know that, coming in, I knew it’d be an unhappy mess. The one thing that really surprised me about season one is how little the narrative actually discussed its own invoked themes, I thought they did better than that - perhaps season two will fill that void a bit. Maybe Echo will get hit in the fucking face less, too. I’m not gonna bet on that. After all, what would this show be without women turned into sex objects and then violently punished for it? Well. For starters, it would be better.

[fontainebleau22]

Oooh could you do a directors commentary for A Scent of Lavender? I'd love to hear one for the scene that starts with ‘I’ll need to pass on this hand,’ and the scene right after from '‘I’ll need to pass on this hand,’ up until 'No harm, then'. And also to hear any background info on how you chose the idea, and what kind of research you might have done for it!

Thank you so much for the ask, and sorry it took me a while to get around to it! I really enjoyed thinking about this, though it’s pretty long.

‘I’ll need to pass on this hand,’ says Goodnight,pushing back his chair.

I agonised alot about the change of tense between the Goody/Billy story (present) and Tess’sstory (past), but there was just no other way to do it that I could find. And,as I said elsewhere, if it’s good enough for Dickens in Bleak House then it’s good enough for me.

MacClaren scowls. ‘Not thinking of quitting on us?’Goodnight’s luck’s been good, or his companions’ attention poor, and he’sclaimed a steady run of pots, but he’s sharp enough to realise that MacClarenhas thrown in several likely hands, encouraging a less wary player to thinkhimself better than he was: he’ll expect to recoup his losses and more as theliquor flows and the evening progresses.

There’s a lotof Deadwood behind this fic, and whileMacClaren is just an extra, for the scene as a whole I had in mind some of thepermanent poker players who figure as extras in Deadwood.

Goodnight holds up his hands placatingly. ‘A call tothe outhouse: I’m not done yet.’

He takes his time out back, then once the game hasre-engaged MacClaren’s attention, he slips back to the bar to find Billy. Thisis one of the many advantages of a partner he’d found; too often before when hewas gambling the drink and the company would go to his head, and what he wonwhile the evening was young he’d lose or drink away later on. Now he can quietlypass a handful of notes and coins to Billy, always clear-minded and precise nomatter how much he’s drunk, and know that they’ll wake up in profit. To hissurprise, though, Billy’s abandoned his station at the bar and is sitting at atable with one of the girls, apparently in lively conversation.

At first he’s simply taken aback: this is the firsttime in the months they’ve spent together that he’s seen his new partner showany interest in female company. But it’s human nature, after all, and Billy’s aman; maybe he’s been holding back since they partnered up. On the heels ofsurprise follows a wave of self-reproach. They’ve always shared a room; theysettled into that early without debate to save money and trouble both, butmaybe Billy’s felt it to be more of a constraint than he liked to consider.

This isprobably my unspoken headcanon that Goody is actually a pretty selfish person,or at least a person who finds little interest in anyone else around him, apartfrom Billy, and at this stage in their partnership his bubble of self-obsessionis just starting to expand to enclose Billy in it.

Their partnership has been lucrative, and they’vemoved from wariness to something he’d like to call friendship: he enjoysBilly’s companionship and he hopes that’s reciprocated. If it raises feelingsin him that he thought were long dead, if he’d like to offer more, much more,mesmerised from that first meeting by his fine-boned face, his dark eyes, thestrength and lightning-fast reflexes he wears so lightly, well, Goodnight keepsthat locked away inside.

OK, here’s why Iwas annoyed with the comments I got about Goody being too passive and subordinateto Billy in his emotions in this fic. There is a power imbalance between them, of coursethere is – Goody is white, educated, respected and if not wealthy himself,comes from a wealthy background, while Billy is poor, a member of a despisedminority, without family in the US and owning only what he stands up in. Ofcourse Goody is going to be incredibly tentative in expressing his feelings,even if he thinks they might be reciprocated: as I read it, he has to let Billy come to him rather than theother way around.

But he’s welcomed their growing intimacy, two againsta hostile world, without thought, and now, it seems, here’s proof he was wrong.

The girl’s not exactly sitting in Billy’s lap:they’re just talking, a respectable distance apart, but even so he doesn’t feelhe wants to interrupt. Looking at her, Goodnight thinks he recognises the girlwho spoke to him earlier, and he wonders, why this one? She’s pretty, as far ashe’s any judge, doll-like, her fair hair curled into ringlets; none of thegirls here are overdressed, but though her clothes are plain – a red skirt andstriped camisole, stockings and boots – there’s something neater about her thanthe others he can see in their rumpled blouses and torn lace. No jewellery,none of them has that, but she’s tied a dark velvet ribbon round her throatthat emphasises her pale colouring.

Gosh, with OCsyou have to describe what they look like! It was actually quite interesting todescribe Billy and Goody as Tess sees them as well, with how wealthy they lookto the fore because that’s her professional concern.

She’s as good as Billy could find in a place likethis, and she’s obviously working to please him, leaning closer with her eyeson his face. May be that’s all it is – a woman who’ll take him seriously. Shesays something that makes Billy laugh, his smile flashing bright, andGoodnight’s honest enough to admit that the tightening in his chest isjealousy; but that’s his problem, and his alone.

‘Your friend there seems to have taken a shine toTessie.’

Goodnight wheels, alert to the mocking edge to thecomment, and finds himself confronting a long-haired man propped idly againstthe bar. At first sight he’s smartly-dressed, exuding self-confidence, but acloser look reveals that his pin-striped suit is shiny in places, the seamsfraying, and the collar greasy.

It’s AlSwearengen from Deadwood! If I’mbeing honest, it pretty much is, though Adams isn’t as ruthless as Swearengen.The suit’s the same, though.

He tips his head back and gives Goodnight aconsidering look. ‘Other pimps might take exception to a Chinaman making freewith their women, but me – live and let live, that’s what I say, right, Amos?’

There is alittle subplot in Deadwood aboutChinese prostitutes being imported for the Chinese community, and I wanted tomake the point that it’s significant Billy is being accepted at this point,even if grudgingly.

The burly barkeep grunts in response: from his mannerhis employer’s used to being agreed with.

And look, there’s Dan Dority behind the bar!

‘Wouldn’t exactly be making free, though, would he?’observes Goodnight, ‘I’m sure your associates would see to that,’ and isrewarded by a splutter as the man chokes on his whiskey.

‘Fair point,’ concedes the man, ‘and money’s whatmakes this nation of ours great, who’s to care whose hands it passes through.’He sticks out a hand. ‘Silas Adams, proprietor. I understand I’m making theacquaintance of the famous Goodnight Robicheaux.’

‘Pleasure’s mine,’ says Goodnight as Adams attemptsto crush his knuckles.

Adams signals for drinks for both of them. ‘On thehouse.’ He raises his glass. ‘Don’t get so many of note passing through here.’

Another ticfrom Deadwood – Al is always pouringpeople free drinks to put them into his debt.

From the corner of his eye Goodnight can seeMacClaren’s glare, but there’s little he can do if the boss is in the mood totalk. ‘Impressive place for a small town,’ he observes: it is striking, thedécor and the games and the girls in what appears to be a glorified tradingpost.

Adams taps the side of his nose. ‘Entertainment’s thebusiness to be in.’ He looks around himself, to see that his underlings arepaying attention: here’s a man who enjoys the sound of his own voice. ‘Honestday’s toil is good for the character, they say. But two things that never goout of fashion are drink and pussy, and the man who sells those won’t ever beshort of custom.’

He relaxes against the bar as he elaborates. ‘When Istarted out here all I had was a shack with a tarp for a roof, and me to sweepthe floor and pour the drinks and run the whores; but I was the only bar intown, and the miners, they came pushing and shoving to get in through the door.So I got a bigger joint, and I sold so much liquor that the company sent up themirror for free.’ He nods at the fancy glass behind the bar. ‘And when moregirls came along, I took them under my care and pretty soon I was the biggestowner in town.’ He strokes his moustache, preening: big fish in a small pond,thinks Goodnight.

OK, Adams getsto spread himself here, but the point I was trying to make is that it genuinelyis an impressive achievement: Adams is boastful, but he has put in the hardwork to make his saloon a success. It’s too simple to say that he’s just anexploitative owner – he is exploitative, but a lot of what he says about beingthe only person who’ll employ a woman down on her luck is actually true, and helooks after the girls well as long as they’re useful to him.

‘Took them under my care’ is also deliberate - it’s an unpleasant thought, but what would happen to someone like Jilly, who’s mentally chllenged, at that period if she didn’t have an employer to take her on, even if he exploits her? (It’s another echo of Swearengen in a way, as he keeps the physically-disabled Jewel on in his saloon, though as a maid of all work and for rather more selfless reasons.) Adams isn’t a nice guy, but he’s neither as brutal as the miners nor as purity-obsessed as the respectable townsfolk.

‘Can a man enquire as to the nature of your businesshere? You and your – associate?’ Adam’s manner is still satirical, butGoodnight senses there’s not much between taking Billy’s money and throwing himout into the street. Or trying to. He smiles: he’ll do this a thousandtimes if it’ll lift a fraction of the burden Billy carries.

‘Entertainment’s our business too,’ he says, and seesAdams stiffen: not a man who likes competition. ‘We’ll stage a few contests, ifthere’s the interest: shooting, fighting. Always men who like to test theirskills.’

Adams narrows his eyes, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Handyin a fight, is he?’ He puts up his fists in a boxer’s stance and feints a fewpunches. ‘My fighting days are long past, but Amos here might be able to giveyour pard a run for his money.’

Goodnight doubts it, in a fair fight: weight’s noadvantage against Billy. But he gets the impression that a fair fight’s notwhat this Adams is interested in.

‘In a fairfight, which Dan and I try to avoid…’ There really is a lot of Deadwood in this scene!

Still, he shrugs. ‘He can try and welcome. We’ll setup tomorrow. Town this size, I expect there’ll be some takers.’

‘And that’s all your business here?’ Adams is lookingat him keenly. ‘Clean out the sapheads and move on?’ What’s he afraid of?

Someone with abetter name than him muscling in on his hard-won business, and once again, youcan’t really blame him.

‘Earn a little, spend a little,’ says Goodnight, ‘wedon’t aim to settle.’

That seems to satisfy him. ‘Long as you do yourspending here at the day’s end, we’ll have no argument.’ He puts his glass downand nods at Amos for another.

‘On me,’ says Goodnight. Won’t do to be in thisman’s debt.

–

It’s a while before he can extricate himself fromAdams’ company, and by the time he does Billy’s gone upstairs; Goodnight startsto head after him, but as he puts his foot on the first step the thoughtfreezes him. Did he take the girl up there with him? He scans the room asunobtrusively as he can, and no, there she is, leaning on the shoulder of a fatman in a high collar. He knows he shouldn’t feel relieved, thumping up thestair and along to their room, but he does.

In their room Billy’s already stowed their gearneatly, razor and soap laid out next to the basin, Goodnight’s bag on the bedby the door; he’s claimed the bed nearer the wall for himself. He’s sittingcross-legged, attending to his knives, running the sharpening stone carefullydown a blade; there’s a plate on the floor next to his feet, empty but forcrumbs, and another on the chest with a hunk of bread and cheese.

I wrote thisscene first just with the conversation between them, and later revised it withall the little touches to show how they look out for each other: at this stage intheir relationship they’re still working out how it benefits them both, in waysunexpected as well as expected, and I wanted to show that as well as theawkwardness.

It’s an easy familiarity that does as much to groundGoodnight as the conversation and backup; too often in the past the oppressivesilence of a grubby anonymous room has driven him downstairs again to drinkuntil he no longer cared, but now he’s warmed by Billy’s wordless forethought.

He hangs his coat on the bedpost and empties thepockets, piling the coins and notes on the bedcover. ‘Come out ahead?’ asksBilly.

‘War stories helped,’ admits Goodnight. ‘Don’t thinkthey were all for my quitting, but the boss here got talking to me at the barso they couldn’t complain.’

‘That Adams?’ asks Billy over the regular stroke ofthe stone; he’ll need them sharp tomorrow, but Goodnight knows by now that hefinds the nightly ritual soothing, honing and polishing, turning each blade inhis hands then laying it down in a neat line: it brings calm to his face andeases the stiffness from his posture.

‘Likes the sound of his own voice.’ He pretends toignore Billy’s glance of amusement. ‘Wanted to sound me out a bit, wonderingwhy we’re here. Think he’s anxious about protecting his turf.’

‘King of a dunghill,’ says Billy dismissively.

This one mademe think of Firefly, when River says ‘Sadlittle king of a sad little hill’ to Badger.

Goodnight stacks the money on the chest next to thebasin and rolls up his sleeves to wash. ‘Seems to have it pretty much sewn uphere, only saloon in town and a couple of heavies to keep it that way.’

‘Wonder if that’s his only business: girl I wastalking to said there’ve been attacks on the road out: couple of times wealthytypes passed through and found themselves looking down a gun a few days later.’

Al Swearengenagain, with his road agents. Really there’s nothing of my own in this fic!

‘Worth knowing.’ Goodnight shucks his vest and bootsand stretches out his legs on the bed, plate in hand: the noise of the saloonbelow is still loud, but he’s had enough of spinning tales and playing up tohis reputation. Drunk enough too.

As he settles to eat Goodnight says carefully, ‘I sawyou talking with her: if you want – I mean, up here, I can make myself scarcefor a while.’

‘No need,’ says Billy shortly; he doesn’t look upfrom his polishing.

‘No trouble for me to take off,’ insists Goodnight.It’s the first time Billy’s given any indication of an interest: if they’re tobe a partnership, best get it all out into the open. ‘Or if you’d prefer we canget two rooms, money’s not tight just now.’ Perhaps he’s shy about it: it’s notas though the subject’s ever come up, and maybe that’s his own fault – he’d lethimself assume that Billy found the same satisfaction in their company as hedoes. But he’s sensitive enough to see that if Billy’s race is enough to causetrouble in a bar then the question of women is bound to be a thorny one. So ifthis one’s willing, maybe in private, it’s not his business to stand in theway. ‘Man has his wants.’

I’m quite proudof this exchange, Goody being delicate with lots of half-sentences.

Billy stands up and picks up his belt to slot theknives one by one into their sheaths. He’s not looking at Goodnight. ‘I don’twant.’

Goodnight swallows down the awkwardness: he’sdetermined not to let this spoil the friendship they’ve built. ‘Money’s there,no problem if you need a little extra to buy her something pretty.’

Billy turns to face him, face set and hard to read.‘I don’t, OK?’ Goodnight can’t fathom why he’s being so hostile. ‘You don’t, doyou? She was making up to you first and you didn’t take her up on it.’

‘Ain’t what I’m looking for,’ says Goodnight, andit’s a phrase he’s practised over the years. He puts down his plate. Plenty ofreasons a man might avoid prostitutes: morality, fear of disease, faith to apartner lost … turning down an advance in a saloon isn’t cause for suspicion.‘But no reason I should put my notions onto you.’

And here’s thedifference between them that’s going to come out later – Goody sees the girlsjust as ‘prostitutes’, women he’s not interested in, whereas Billy sees Tess asan individual. Goody is going to grow into this attitude as he gets to knowthem, but right now his attitude is very top-down; Billy’s is bottom-up, seeingthe girls as people just like himself.

Billy sits down on the bed again facing him. ‘I don’twant to bring her up here. I wouldn’t do that to anyone, make them do it formoney, or because their boss tells them to.’ His fierce expression forbidsquestioning. ‘We were just talking: it’s what she’s supposed to do. About whatwe do, a bit, and about how it is for them here.’

The girls? Goodnight can’t say he’s ever given itmuch thought – girls in a saloon are just part of the setting, young, old, somepretty and some not, all friendly and all available, all to be politelydeflected and check your pockets afterward.

I did wonderabout this, because it seems unlikely to a modern eye – did he really never thinkabout the women? But Goody, as I said, isn’t for me very interested in peopleoutside himself, and most men of that period, insofar as they thought aboutprostitutes at all, either despised them or pitied them. And really what I wantedto do was interrogate our own attitudes as consumers of Westerns – who thinksabout the women in the saloon? The ones in M7 don’t even have names, they’re justwindow dressing for the genre, and we never think about them as individuals:the woman massaging Faraday’s shoulders in the opening scene, the woman in theboots at Volcano Springs, the woman in the coach who Faraday winks at – who werethey? What were their lives like?

‘No harm, then,’ he says, fetching out his notebook;Billy lights a cigarette and stretches out at full length with a satisfiedsigh, and companionable silence fills the room, shouts and music coming faintlyfrom below.

 I really enjoyed the chance to think about this, so thanks again!

[ask-joeydrewstudios]

Family Sticks Togehter

@phoena12 submitted: a quick fic i wrote for Angst War 2k18, hope you enjoy!

It had been a peaceful day or as peaceful as the studio could get, the occasional pipe bursting and sending tidal waves of ink in every direction, the sounds of pen scratching onto paper as the widening grin of Bendy takes shape. Sammy had taken to shouting as of late, much to Wally’s and some better un named interns glee, as Bendy plays prank after prank on the poor music director. Their footfalls soon heard as bendy comes screeching out of an ink stained office with a peeved (and soaked) Sammy Lawrence, insults spitting from his mouth. It takes Wally a few minutes to stop his cackling.

Sweet melodies combined with a twirl of angelic singing comb through the halls of the studio, a few employees stopping briefly by the recording studio to catch the sunny tune. Susie making the bass vocals as Alice leads with the main part, the two lost in the joy of it. Jack leans to one side of the recording booth, scanning over the lyrics and hums along to the instrumental parts.

Down below, where memories breathe a little more life than ought to be, sits Shawn, tinkering away with his bendy plushies. A careful eye analysing each and every aspect of the doll he has in hand. Satisfied, he smiles and places the doll down amongst others. A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder as Lacie asks a genial question. Shawn shrugs, stands and gestures at an oil smudged Lacie to lunch. She scoffs but heads for the elevator nonetheless, making a joke that Shawn’s eyes were looking a little green today. He laughs. He usually forgets to take his goggles off.

Several floors above, Joey sketches out various ideas to put forth for the next cartoon strip, various doodles of Bendy pulling pranks or just getting into mischief. Alice being the voice of reason and Boris the lovable antagonist. Notes are hastily scribbled at the sides, some a little indecipherable in his haste to have the picture make sense. He was sure Henry and the others would love them. At least, he think they would if not for the shouting that interrupted Joey’s thoughts. It sounded like Sammy and Bendy were at it again. He heaves a sigh, pushes up from his chair and begins a casual walk out towards the racket. Oh sure, he was gonna give them hell when he caught them but why waste that energy now. Joey waves a hello at passing co-workers.

“I’m gonna ring yer damn neck ya imp!!” Sammy all but screeches.

“Ya gotta catch me first!” Bendy snickers back as he quickly rounds a corner, only to bump into his father figure, Joey.

“I got ya now twerp!” Sammy hollers as he catches up with Bendy and grabs him by the scruff, “oh yer in for it now” Sammy spits. Failing to notice Drew but we’ll just blame it on the fact his face is covered in ink and not the overriding frenzy that has him worked up instead.

“I don’t think that is in your best interests Sammy” Joey speaks up. An audible gulp can be heard as Sammy snaps his neck to meet the cold blue eyed gaze of his boss, dropping Bendy in the process and eliciting an “oww” from him.

There’s a slight pause from both demon and music director before Bendy wraps his arms about Joey’s legs and whimpers a “he started it!” How very convincing and certainly Joey would be had he not had to deal with this same situation time and time again.

“You know damn well you started it ya pest!” Sammy glowers down at Bendy, “he flooded my office again” this he says to Joey, firmly holding his gaze. Joey could have guessed that by the state of his appearance alone.

“That fact is very evident, Sammy, what im most concerned about is the level of noise and destruction (at this he looks pointedly down the hall the two had come cavorting through) that you two have caused”. If looks could kill, Sammy would have dropped dead right there on the floor. “And Bendy” Joey begins with that parental tone that brooks no space for argument, “how many times have I told you not to flood Sammy’s office?”

Bendy idly rubs his forefingers together, a petulant frown showing, “26 times?” he tries but it doesn’t yield any form of a smile from the older man. Bendy gives up his childish act and goes to stand by Sammy, the both of them looking like disgraced children.

“47 actually” Joey sighs out. He wishes Henry were here instead. “Bendy, you’re not allowed in the animation department for the rest of the week”

“What!? But Joey-“Bendy squawks before being cut off.

“No.” it’s harsh but Bendy needs to learn. “As for you, Sammy, your coffee intake will be reduced” that might be pushing it but it’s the only way Joey can really reprimand Sammy.

“Fine…” Sammy grouches, unwilling to fight further on the subject with his boss. He supposed, as well, that he had caused a bit of havoc for the rest of the studio, especially for Wally.

“Good, I shall leave you two to-“

“But what am I meant to do for the rest of the week!” Bendy suddenly pipes up, his hands fisted slightly and looking none too happy about the arrangement made.

“You can draw or you can go play in the other departments” Joey tries.

Bendy grumbles under his breathe, looking about as mad as a dozing kitten, as he stalks off, stomping his little feet every now and then. Sammy nods a curt farewell as he goes to clean himself off. The both of them, Joey concludes then and there, are like spoilt children. Ah well, they would get over it sooner or later and besides, a week wasn’t a long time and Sammy could live without coffee. It might even do his health some benefit.

~~0~~

He was mad.

No!

He was fuming!

He was…he was….what was that word Sammy always used?

Pissed! Yeah that was it, Bendy was pissed as all hell. He’d show Joey, he could find plenty to do without sitting with Henry and watch him draw out each careful line of his beloved cartoon. Nope, Bendy wouldn’t miss the soft scratch of pen to pristine paper, or the gentle mutters of the other animators or the lulling hums of Henry as he zoned out.

Nope!

Nu-uh!

Bendy wasn’t gonna miss any of it. In fact it would do him wonderfully to get away from such a dull place. Think of all the pranks he could pull on everyone else! Oh, Joey would regret this decision. Not that Bendy ‘cared’.

Except his plans hadn’t, well, gone according to plan at all.

Wally had caught on to all of Bendy’s pranks and even alerted the rest of the studio to any other of his shenanigans (the gall!), so pranks were swiftly thrown out the window.

Even Alice and Susie wouldn’t put up with him. They had welcomed him into their conversation but the little demon soon lost track or sense of the conversation and after asking the 40th or so question pertaining to “why a guy’s butt looks good in dress pants, compared to overalls”, both women had kicked Bendy out of the conversation. If you asked Bendy, guy’s butts looked better in skirts!

And Lacie and Shawn were no help either. Lacie pretty much kept Bendy at an arm’s length whilst she worked on some mechanical thing and when Bendy had inquired as to what it was she was working on (and god did he ever regret that question) she had shown him a metallic doll that looked like him.

Except it was missing its eyes.

And some of its teeth had fallen out.

Oh and there was oil coming out of its eyes which was not ok?

Bendy had promptly fled the room screaming and hid beneath a stack of dolls.

Another dire mistake because today was filled with those apparently.

Shawn just had to pick him up out of the stack and Shawn just had to stick a needle dangerously close to his eyes. To Bendy’s amusement, Shawn did scream when finding it to be the real him but, you know, having a needle that close to your eye?

That’s not such an amusing thing.

So, Bendy had booked it outside the studio and yes, he was always told never to go outside the studio but the place was beginning to get too stifling and the fresh air and cooling wind felt good. The sky was blue with thick fluffy clouds, like out of a picture book. It was serene. Nice. Bendy inwardly thanked Joey for giving him a reason to go outside. What Bendy failed to know was that for a toon, stepping outside was a death wish.

He didn’t hear their footsteps or their murmured voices, only the flash of a camera and the shocked cries of humans. He didn’t recognise the voices. He didn’t recognise their faces either. Oh but they recognised him for sure.

Bendy had darted back into the studio, the people shouting and causing an uproar now. They banged against the door. His heart fluttered once and then began an uneven beat. Fast and unrelenting. Oh god, what did he do?

With tears welling in his eyes he runs to the one person who could sort out this mess.

Henry.

He knows, he shouldn’t go anywhere near the animation department, the building anxiety of Joeys disappointed features tearing at the young toons heart. Bendy felt as if he would burst.

As he reaches Henry, he’s a crying mess, ink and tears dripping heavily to the floor. No doubt a puddle would form. Henry is instantly on his knees.

“Hey,hey, what’s wrong buddy?” with a soothing tone that has Bendy bawling even more, the other animators coming to see the ruckus.

It hurts. It hurts so much because bendy is crying and sobbing and begging. “Im sorry, im sorry” and “please forgive me Henry” over and over again. His voice goes hoarse and cracks and god, does he feel like he’s gonna burst. There’s too many people and as Henry picks up his shaking form, Bendy burrows his face into his shirt, staining it in tears and ink.

~~0~~

The next day is even worse when the newspapers arrive. A picture of Bendy standing just outside the studio door, a soft and surprised look on his face, on the front page. He cries as Joey stares blankly at the page, eyes widening as he reads each word.

“Drew studios conducting experiments?” one reads.

“Famous star, Bendy, seen outside Drew Studios in freak photo!” another states.

And on and on such titles go, the wonder and mostly horror, at the favoured cartoon being alive.

It was a scandal to be sure.

The studio is silent that day, nobody works.

Henry holds Boris close, as Susie links hands with Alice. The silence a sharp and stabbing pain.

Bendy resigns himself from the chatter but Joey picks him up and holds him close.

“We’ll figure this out” he promises. Bendy cries and hopes that he does.

~~0~~

He’s not sure how many days have passed now.

The newspapers have grown less restive and in response to the heated media, the public takes a stand and protest outside of Drew studios.

It’s horrible and noisy and it’s all his fault.

Bendy doesn’t cry anymore. Just weak shudders and the occasional whimper.

Alice had yelled at him. Screaming. Throwing her hands about in wild gesticulation. Then she had stormed off and Bendy hadn’t seen her since. Susie assured him that she had calmed down but knew that wasn’t the case. Alice would never forgive him. She would hate him forever.

The thought was a punch to the gut.

Intern after intern had been laid off too, seeing as the mobs were getting rowdy and demanding entrance to the studio. Someone had been hurt, a long and nasty gash down their head. Bendy could still smell the blood.

Joey had even taken an interview stating that there were no living toons and such an idea was foolish. Clearly, the public hadn’t believed it.

It was all his fault.

It was all his fault

It was all his fault!

Hisfaulthisfaulthisfaulthi-

Well-toned arms had picked him as impossibly more tears slipped down his broken features, swaying him back and forth and murmuring soft words.

Henry.

Henry was here and standing at his side was Boris and Joey, both looking worried and aged beyond their years. Alice appeared from nowhere and placed a reassuring hand upon Bendy’s quivering self, a small smile telling she had forgiven him.

“Oh, Bendy…” Henry begins, softly, “no more tears, we’ll figure this out, ok?”

“b-but I… I hurt everyone…” Bendy hoarsely whispers, his eyebrows drawn tight and lip quivering.

“Ya certainly caused a mess, imp, but were used ta cleaning up yer messes” Sammy chips in, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I think ya mean I’m more used ta it, I’m the janitor ‘ere” Wally quips as he shrugs past Sammy. Sammy rolls his eyes in response.

“Oh would you two stop! The boy is clearly upset!” Lacie scolds from the end of the hall, her boots thudding as she makes her way to the growing group, Shawn trailing behind.

“We’re in this together” Alice murmurs as she rests her head on Henry’s shoulder.

“A family that works together, sticks together, is what I always say” Joey supplies, hands on his hips in a triumphant manner.

“Since when have you ever said that?” Susie drawls, earning a few snickers.

“W-well, just now!” Joey replies indignantly. Everyone giggles.

A family that sticks together, huh?

Yeah, Bendy had a whole family at his back that loved and cherished him.

Everything would work out in the end.

((OHH IT STARTED OUT REALLY CUTE BUT THEN GOT REALLY SCARY IN THE MIDDLE AND GOT CUTE AGAIN,,,, i love that... thats some Good Stuff. and they’re a family. they’re calling each other family. ohhhhhh my weakness, my biggest weakness-- thank you for the fic!! ; o ;))

[arielle0808]

Day 3- Childhood

Here comes my submission for day 3 of @saeranchoiweek!! 

I’ve been having this idea of writing a Werecat AU for the choitwins for some time now, and since it also matched with the Childhood prompt, I’ve finally decided to give it a go for Saeran week and... this is the result!

I don’t think I’ll be able to submit for more days, though, but I would like to write something for the twins birthday, even if I submit it late~

I really hope you like it <3 Thank you for reading <3 <3

It seems like a dream now, but I’ll never forget the time in which, in this same street, I found an injured kitten. I was but 6 years old and was going back home from a shop nearby in which I had bought some sweets. I was digging my hands in the white and pink paper bag where I kept the sweets I had just bought, looking for the strawberry-flavoured ones, when I saw a reddish kitten on the floor, its breathing coming out in weak panting, all dirty and thin. I gasped and let my bag fall on the floor just as I kneeled next to it. I took it in my tiny chubby arms and got it home, hoping to find some help there, but my parents had left by the time I arrived.

Fortunately, my instinct drove me to give some water to the kitten, which he drank most eagerly, looking at me with those big amber eyes. I served some milk to it, then, which he took. At that moment I heard the front door opening and rushed to meet my parents and tell them about the situation. When I returned to the kitchen, though, the kitten was no longer there.

That day onwards, I would often find dead rats and birds on my front door which would make me scream in fear. I didn’t know what they meant at first, but now I understand those were presents. Luckily enough, though, the kitty seemed to hear one of my yells and realised those presents were not that welcomed as he had predicted, so he started leaving other things, most of them pink or white pieces of cloth or broken toys and dolls. I treasured them all, though I wasn’t sure about who left them there.

Some weeks later, I saw two red-haired kids at a park to which I didn’t usually go since my parents didn’t like that area too much, saying it was dangerous. One of them was embracing his knees, sobbing lightly, and the other was trying to comfort him. The one who was crying reminded me of that kitten I had seen, so I decided to approach them.

“Why is he crying?” I asked the other one. He had glasses and was wearing a black hoodie. Instead of replying, the boy tightened his embrace on his brother, but the other one looked up at me and startled.

“It’s her, Saeyoung,” I could hear him tell his brother in a whisper. When he said so, that Saeyoung looked up at me, his eyes wide. I wasn’t sure of what was happening, but the two of them were looking at me with surprise, so I kneeled and offered them the sweets I was carrying.

“I am Maggie,” I told them. “Who are you?”

“I am Saeyoung, and this is my brother Saeran.”

“Nice to meet you,” I smiled. “You remind me of a kitten, Saeran.”

The twins looked at me with troubled expressions and I stared back in confusion, unable not to think they were a wee bit weird. Saeran whispered something to his brother and this time he did it low enough for me not to hear, and he whispered something back while I just stared at them, eating sweets from my paper bag even though I knew my parents had told me not to eat them all. I would think about that when I got back home.

“I was the cat,” Saeran suddenly said. “The cat you saw a week ago on the streets and rescued, I... thank you,” he said with a light blush.

“Oh. This dream is weird,” I replied and Saeyoung suddenly started chuckling. I was glad to see him laugh since I had thought he was really quiet and serious and was a bit scared of him.

“It’s not a dream!” Saeran exclaimed, pouting, and it was my time to laugh this time. “You have to believe me. I’m not crazy.”

“Ok, ok, I believe you,” I said, chuckling lightly. “But only if you show me.”

“That’s not believing me!” he whined.

“Why don’t you... I don’t know transform?” I asked him.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Saeyoung said. “We can’t control it.”

“And that makes mommy mad,” Saeran added with a low sob and Saeyoung made a low nose to indicate him not to talk more.

“It makes her mad? Why?” I asked, believing she must be tired of explaining how to control it, but that Saeran hadn’t been able to manage yet.

“She... is not really kind, Maggie,” Saeyoung said. “She is not like your parents, and we are not like you. Come on, Saeran, we should go,” he told him, helping him stand up.

“Wait, why?” I asked them. “You haven’t showed me yet.”

Saeran looked at me as Saeyoung dragged him away, sad, and waved his hand in goodbye. I stood there for some time, waiting in case the twins thought about it twice and decided to come back.

The next couple of days, I kept going back to that park in case I saw traces of the twins, but I didn’t find any of them there until some days later. Saeran was sitting on a bench, looking uneasy, and I approached him with a happy smile.

“Saeran!” I exclaimed, and he startled, sighing in relief when he saw it was me. “Where have you been? And where is your brother?”

“He doesn’t know I’m here, and mommy either. You see? I am not brave like Saeyoung, but I managed to escape because, well, I... I wanted to see you.”

I widened my smile.

“I wanted to see you too! Look, I know nothing about children who transform into cats, so I started looking for information in my parents’ library. I found nothing about people those, but I did read about people who transform into wolves!! Werewolves, they are called, and...”

“You still don’t believe me?” he asked me, sad.

“Oh, no, I decided I do believe you,” I shrugged. “Why would you lie to me?” I smiled. “I was just trying to find instructions on how to control it so that your mom won’t scold you.”

Saeran shook his head, and embraced his arms.

“It’s not that easy. It’s... she’ll find some other thing to get mad at me for, and... hit me.”

“Hit you?” I asked him, confused. “Does your mom...?”

“B-but I wanted to show you another thing!” Saeran changed the subject before I could continue talking. My eyes sparkled in curiosity as he looked in his pocket and took a handful of pink and white flower petals.

“Woo!! These are beautiful!” I exclaimed, taking them in my own hands.

“I thought you make like them,” Saeran blushed. “Since the bag with sweets was pink and white,” he said and I remembered that I had been carrying one the first time I saw the kitten.

“My favourite colour is pink,” I nodded. “What is yours, Saeran?”

“Favourite colour?” he asked me, confused. “I don’t know. Am I allowed to have a favourite colour?”

“Why not?” I asked him.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know what my favourite colour is, I’m sorry. I...”

“It’s ok, you don’t need to have one,” I tilted my head in confusion. “But if you ever have one, let me know and I’ll look for the most beautiful flower of that colour for you.”

His cheeks went deep red and he nodded.

“You don’t need to do that, though.”

“It’s alright, I would like to,” I smiled, embracing my knees. He nodded.

We kept on meeting for a while, though never regularly. Anytime that he didn’t appear I became worried that his mother may have done something to him. I also saw Saeyoung, more often than Saeran, and asked him about his brother. I gave him sweets for himself and the other twin, and he always thanked me with a jagged smile.

Once or twice, Saeran appeared in his cat form. In those cases, I liked petting him behind his ears or caress his tummy because it would make him purr, though the next few days that I saw him he would blush if I mentioned it.

At some point, I stopped seeing him or Saeyoung. I never knew why. I would wait for him at the park with my bag full of sweets to share until the sun started setting and I had to go back home, knowing that my parents would get worried about me. I searched for presents from him daily, and more than once wandered around the area to see if I could find any of the two brothers.

Today, I still don’t know where they went or how they are, but in my heart I hope they are well.

All this, I remember as I enter the shop in which I used to buy the sweets at that age, the familiar smell and colours bringing me back to my childhood. I take one of the pink and white bags and fill it with my and his favourite sweets, chuckling at myself for being such a melancholic dork. I approach the counter and pay for the sweets, the old lady that used to sell them when I was a kid unable to recognise me. I don’t even try.

I walk down the street and stop at the sound of a faint meow. When I look next to me there’s a red cat with green piercing eyes staring at me. I smile.

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[thetradeway]

Session 53, 30 Oct 2021: "We are not optimised for that."

So last we left off, we had escaped suspiciously easily from the face-stealing witch’s lair, with Olius Visk, hapless wizard (now faceless) in tow. Hmm. We had retraced our steps back as far as the Underdark beneath Candlekeep. Mina’s busy and Ed is ill, so we continue on without them.

We had not had a rest - well we had, but Joe almost killed us again so we need another one. We had just run away from Ava’s house with everything that wasn’t nailed down. As we went back through the portal into the Underdark, Aardvack decides to change some of the runes even though he doesn’t know what he’s doing, in hopes that if Ava uses it after us she might end up in the elemental plane of fire or something.

We no longer have the Drift Globe as it’s done its job, but we can retrace our steps to somewhere relatively safe-looking. Kessler casts Alarm as a ritual, but can only get some of the members of the party; she sets it so that our own people won’t set it off. Ahleqs scoots inside; he’s close to the fire now so he has to occasionally pat himself out.

Ahleqs and Carl take first watch, and nothing happens; Melaina can take her long rest perk (bloody elves…). Tarragon and Carl take second. Again, no incident. Melaina takes third watch with Carl. Still no incident. An eventless night!

(Joe has us roll to see what we would have fought; Quaggoths and Mind Flayers. That’s OK for players between levels 5 and ten, apparently. Duncan, OOC: “We are not optimised for that.”)

Olius is still rocking back and forth on his bed. “Singing. Singing in the night,” he says. Tarragon asks him who was singing. She rolls a nat 1 for persuasion; he has a thousand yard stare and doesn’t answer.

Tarragon casts Dispel Magic on the book - and rolls a WIS check. She successfully dispels the spell on it, to Aardvack’s ill-concealed surprise. What languages can he speak? Give him ten minutes and he can read any, but he’s fluent in common, draconic, dwarfish and elvish. It’s none of those, so he casts his Comprehend Languages.

(Ed pops in; he was making meatballs and forgot about the game. He’s feeling better.)

The spell on the book was Finger of Death; a bit on the nose, since the cover is made from a hand among other things. It would have killed Aardvack and raised him as a zombie; there would have been a certain poetry to that. Tarragon: "You're welcome." She makes breakfast.

The book is written in Infernal. Aardvack thinks it would take some deciphering, as it contains a lot of rambling and ranting. Ahleqs puts his hand up. “I can read Infernal. Because… Reasons.” Between the two of them, they can decipher it. They make notes on Aardvack’s fancy paper. Ahleqs is hoping it’s a book of dirty limericks.

(Matthew goes off to deal with the business end of the baby.)

(Ed can’t Gideon, as his name is greyed out. Is it because Sophie has control? Ed, OOC: “Release him!”)

Does everyone have their sound up, Joe wants to know. Oh, shit.

Aardvack makes a STR check at Disadvantage. 8; the book has been snatched from his lap. It hovers in the air - he hears a giggle that we recognise and he doesn’t (he wasn't with us last Halloween), and the book dances away from him. Tarragon casts Faerie Fire on the area around the book. She sees the outline of the doll in green glittery light. Melaina casts See Invisibility.

Ahleqs casts Eldritch Blast at the doll, at Advantage thanks to Faerie Fire. 14 is just a hit, 24 definitely is, for 9 Force damage altogether.

Joe, put out: “You monster.”

Aardvack does the same, for 19 total damage. He stands up and shouts “Come back with someone else’s book!”

Kessler shoots a crossbow bolt at it, and Gideon flings Acid Splash for a Dex save. It fails and takes some Acid damage. Melaina takes a shot with her bow as well. Joe thinks we’re escalating this; all the poor little doll did last time we met her was appear out of nowhere and try to stab us all with a kitchen knife.

Melaina does 21 damage. “Twatty doll!”

The giggling stops dead. “Fuckers!” she hisses.

We’re giving chase, yes? Yes we will run into this obvious trap. Did Ahleqs and Aardvack glean much from the book, they want to know? Mostly expletives and nastiness warning against reading the book without permission.

The doll runs away, and we follow. She makes for a passage and into a cavern full of ruins. Aardvack: “Quick, everyone split up!” We do not do that. The doll is giggling again by now. It runs off to the north.

Gideon finds a door; Tarragon and Kessler follow him. It’s warm here, and surprisingly clean. It feels strangely familiar to all of us; nostalgic. Suspicious. It feels like we’ve been here before. Can we do History checks? Yes. We do, but we can’t place this… place.

There’s a campsite further in the ruin.

This seems iffy. Ahleqs has half cover if he stands behind Gideon, right? He doesn’t know how to check for traps but he’s seen Melaina do it, so he does what he thinks she might do in this situation. 15 Investigation; not bad. What’s he investigating? The camp. The fire is burning and the tents are unoccupied, but they look really cosy and snuggly.

Ed, immediately, OOC: “Oh, I don’t trust that!”

Ahleqs investigates the fire; it’s not giving out any heat, and there is nothing in the tents but sleeping bags. It’s too perfect. Ahleqs shares his misgivings with us. Can he touch the tent? Yeah, but it doesn’t feel quite solid. Something’s up.

Tarragon hears in her head: “Sleep, little one! The tents are empty!” She spins on the spot, looking wildly around, but sees nothing. "Did you hear that?" she asks the others; they all look at each other. No, seems to be the consensus.

Ahleqs and Melaina investigate the gold; Gideon wants to leave.

21 would hit Kessler so she reaction-Shield’s, but 26 hits her even with that. She takes 8 Bludgeoning damage. She is grabbed and teleported. What??

“Goodbye, goblin!” Gideon calls, waving.

“Fuck you, dwarf!” he hears as she sails away. The rest of us see nothing but Kessler disappearing with a yelp. She finds herself in a room and is released; she finds a door that leads back to the others. She tells them what happened; Gideon decides this is attention seeking behaviour and ignores her - until he is grabbed as well. “Golly.”

He takes a bunch of damage, and then the thing disappears and releases him. We’re spread out; we should clump together for Initiative, Joe tells us. Yeah right; we didn’t come down in the last shower.

We roll Initiative where we bloody well are, after Gideon returns to us.

The thing grabs Ahleqs, hits him a bunch, lets him go and disappears. Ahleqs, shaking: “I hated it!”

Can Melaina see this thing, since she can see invisible things right now? Yes. She hides and shoots it. Well - she rolls 26 stealth and is informed that she is NOT hidden. What the fuck? She shoots it normally without Sharpshooter. 16 hits, for 13 piercing damage. No sneak attack damage on top.

Gideon casts Mirror Image. “Wa-bam! Now there are four Gideons.” He slams a Healing Potion as well. He puts the bottle away. “I’m old like that, I hoard things.”

There’s some waffle about 5e as opposed to 3.5; apparently if you took a healing potion that would double your current max HP, you would explode. It was a low level problem.

Ahleqs’ turn - he also slams a potion, takes the dodge action and is only crying very quietly.

Joe shows us the thing, for those of us who’ve seen it; it has spines on its tentacles so when it flails at us, it makes us all bleedy. Fun!

Gentleman Carl takes his turn. He sees nothing to attack, so he readies a zombie-style savaging.

Kessler readies a crossbow attack, and Tarragon a Thorn Whip. Aardvack goes invisible and does some moving around. “Quietly quietly… Aaaaaaand I’m done.”

He’s put himself right next to our new friend. Does he want the good news or the bad news?

M: “Let’s start with the good.”

J: “You’re invisible.”

M: “… Great.”

J: “The bad news is that even though you’re invisible it still knows you’re there.”

M: “… Ah.”

J, happily: “I think it’s just going to bitch-slap you four times; you don’t have a face, so there are much tastier meals around.”

It grapples him with the first hit, and continues to slap him around. Tarragon and Kessler both release their held actions when it appears; Tarragon misses but Kessler hits.

It continues to savage Aardvack, and then teleports him away.

Sophie returns from sorting the baby and asks what’s happened. Aardvack’s been savaged and teleported away, we tell her.

Melaina, deeply sarcastically: “Oh nooooo…”

Gideon goes and checks the place where it took him, in case it’s spirited Aardvack to the same place. “My intuition was right!” He cups his hands around his mouth. “Brother Charity, are you okay?”

Aardvack, shouting back: “Never better!”

Gideon, to himself: “Gosh, I’d better unleash my most powerful spell. Yup - we’re doin’ it. Wa-bam.”

He casts Phantasmal Killer, holy shit. It meets the save DC, however. “Aw, dammit.”

Joe: “If it makes you feel any better, Gideon, if it had failed, I would have had it use one of its legendary reactions to succeed instead.”

Gideon: “Right. I see. Well then, goodbye!” (He doesn’t really abandon us to our fate; after all, there are four of him right now.)

Ahleqs is up. A., reluctantly: “Again?” Can he hear sounds of chomping as it eats Aardvack? He gets a free Perception check - a 22. He heard Gideon talking to Aardvack who seemed to be somewhere to the south. He strolls in that direction, and has another potion. He readies Eldritch Blast, so if he sees it, in any capacity at all, he’ll hit it.

Did Carl hear Gideon shouting? With a ten Perception, yeah, just about. He dashes to get closer to Aardvack, but that’s his lot. Kessler moves but can’t see the thing, so holds a crossbow attack. Tarragon does the same, but holds another Thorn Whip.

Aardvack misses with his Vampiric Touch, somehow. It’s still grappling him. He uses the rest of his turn to continue to be eaten. Sarcastically: “At its leisure, of course. I wouldn’t want to rush it.”

It continues to batter him. 24 bludgeoning; “… I’ll walk it off.” He is tantalisingly nearly dead.

“I’m getting close to my favourite hit point but I’m not quite there yet.”

It Legendary-Action-Bites him. 23 hits for sure. Aardvack’s last word is: “… Yup.” 37 damage, and he’s out.

Well. Oh my.

Melaina heard the crunching of gristle and the splat of guts hitting the floor, and heads south. She readies another attack.

Gideon casts Thunderwave, but it makes the save. It still takes half damage, but it isn’t pushed. Bits of Aardvack are pushed, but strictly for flavour.

Ahleqs casts Shatter, at level 4 because he’s terrified. It fails the save - and uses its legendary action to succeed instead. It takes the opportunity to use another legendary action on the end of Ahleqs’ turn to vanish.

Carl is enraged by the Balhannoth’s disappearance. Does he have any healing potions that he could - ooh! “Carl will administer a Healing Potion to Aardvack.”

Kessler gets up high and holds a crossbow attack; Tarragon rushes down to find all the action. Aardvack, sarcastically: “Glad you could join us.”

Tarragon: “Shut up.”

Aardvack, looking down at himself: “… I think this bit’s meant to be on the inside.” He spends his turn putting things back in and sewing the holes shut. Then he stands and casts Shllsdgjlfh’lh’f;lhjsdh. If he were to prod the air ahead of him, would it meet with resistance…?

Yes, it would. Fuck.

Melaina takes nine slashing damage from the doll, who reappears behind her. Does 18 hit her as well? Um… Yes. Does Kessler see this happen? No, because the doll is directly in line behind Melaina to her. Me, OOC: “Okay. Well. That’s grand. Sorry Melaina.”

18 does not hit Kessler, but she gets off her readied action - and misses. Well shit. It does some more attacks, and only one needs a reaction Shield, but she bloody well does it. The rest of the attacks miss.

Kessler turns to see the Balhannoth behind her and tries to Thunder Gauntlet it - nat 1. Too much flourish - drop your weapon and make a DC14 Dex save. On a fail, you take the weapon’s normal damage. She fails, and takes 12 Thunder damage. She makes a second attack but, distracted, she misses. Dammit.

Melaina stabs at the doll but misses. She bonus-action-Disengages and moves away.

Gideon, on hearing that Kessler has done more damage to herself than to the monster: “Okay, well, chill out here then.” He moves around exploring, allowing Joe to shepherd him about “which may not be the best of choices.” He can’t do anything now that he’s moved but he’s here, so that counts for something.

Ahleqs, moving reluctantly back toward the main room and the Balhannoth: “Oh god… Oh god, I don’t like it.” He casts Burning Hands at it, at level 4, after some kerfuffle with the template. “Uuurghh, I hate it!” It’s a Dex save, which it fails. It uses its last legendary action to succeed.

Me, OOC and probably metagaming: “‘Last’, you say?”

The Balhannoth is looking ropey, we are told. Carl takes his turn, taking twenty minutes to turn around on Matthew’s ancient, creaky laptop.

(Last time Duncan ordered a pizza, it gave him some quite violent food poisoning; is it worth him risking it a second time…? All of us immediately: “No! What kind of questi- no!” Matthew, playing devil’s advocate: “Was it nice while you were eating it, though?”)

Carl gets up to the Balhannoth but can’t hit it this round. Kessler hits twice, very pleased; it vanishes in response. Carl loses his fucking mind when he sees it disappear.

Tarragon casts Cure Wounds on Aardvack at third level, and walks away without bothering to see if it did anything.

Aardvack can’t reach Ahleqs for a Cure Wounds, so he summons Admiral Pancakes to do it for him. He and Tarragon start squabbling (I can cast Shlksdgsdkgdghh for free so it’s more betterer, well I can hit harder with it, well I saved your life, well I healed you just now, well I can come back from the dead, well I already have, no you were brought back from the dead by a unicorn, well I still came back from the dead didn’t I, and on and on…), while the doll tries to stab Kessler. She reaction-Shields again.

The Balhannoth has a go, even using a legendary action to get another attack, and can’t hit her even with Advantage. The highest it manages is a 23. Kessler, smug: “Nope - and you just wasted your Legendary Action. Good job!”

Melaina natty 20s one of them - I’m not sure which - and gets the how-de-do-dis. Oh - on the Balhannoth. It deflates like a wet balloon. Yeah!

Ahleqs steps over Tarragon who is still squabbling with Aardvack, and does an Eldritch Blast at the doll. Should he do Tides of Chaos? Tarragon and Aardvack immediately take opposite sides in this debate.

He does just regular Eldritch Blast, and hits twice. “Eldritch… Blast! Woah. Thirteen points of damage. And it dies.”

Joe, immediately: “No it doesn’t. It just hisses at you.”

Gideon crit-fails his Chill Touch spell; Drawing a blank: You are unable to cast this spell for one minute. “Oh, I’ll live.”

Matthew, OOC: “Thank god it wasn’t Grease!”

Ed, OOC: “That straight up can’t happen with Grease.”

Carl is extremely frustrated with how this event has gone down. This is hard work for him, he moves at a slower pace than other people, generally. He didn’t get to lay one finger on the big bag of teeth and tentacles, so he takes his rage out on the doll.

Duncan, OOC: “Yes, go on, batter it!”

We wait for Matthew’s laptop to let him select Carl. He travels twenty feet, and can hit with Advantage - but the doll gets Advantage on him until his next turn. He slams and hits with his Zombie Grab attack, doing 8 Bludgeoning damage. As part of his bonus action he can bite it if he manages to grapple it. Contested Strength checks - and Carl wins. He bites the shit out of it. “What you see basically is a giant man assaulting a dolly.” Matthew presses the button; any minute now. And his computer turns itself off.

It was so near death, however, that Joe takes pity on Carl and lets him have the how-de-do-dis. Carl bites its head off, tears the body in half, and stamps on the bits.

We look around ourselves - the ruins look horrible, suddenly, in great contrast to how they looked when we arrived. The camp has disappeared, as has the gold. Booh. Well, not really surprising.

It didn’t even get to eat us. Well; it got to eat quite a lot of Aardvack.

Joe decides he will have us fight the thing he was going to have us fight in here, before he realised it was CR20. It won’t be canon, it’s just a one-shot for fun. Awesome! If we roll good and play tactically, we should be in with a chance, he thinks. Hmm. We’ll see...

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 11 - Points

Within twenty minutes….with plenty of hungover grumbling later, Blake had managed to drag herself from her bed, down the aspirin that Negan had left for her, grabbed a quick shower, washed her hair, brushed her teeth and shucked on a fresh set of clothes.

Blake opened her closet door, now up and fully dressed, to find a long floor length mirror attached to the inside. She stared at herself as she did up the buttons of her fresh, loose, white blouse.

She didn't look as bad as she first thought. Perhaps still a little green around the gills but fairly ok. Her long damp caramel hair was pushed back over her shoulders and she had on a pair of tight fitting dark navy jeans and sneakers.

These had been the first pair of tennis shoes she had put on in a long time and they instantly felt far more comfortable to her than her usual hard-wearing walking boots did. But she certainly didn't want to get too used to this lifestyle. Just because Negan was trying to…charm her, for some reason…that did not mean she could trust him. This couldn't be just that easy. Could it?

She blinked a couple of time staring up into her large green eyes, reflected in the mirror. She was convinced she didn't look like the same person anymore. She had changed so much in such a short space of time and that had nothing to do with weight-loss or diet…..this was because of what she had seen out there….and what she could never forget.

She dragged her eyes away from the mirror, shutting the closet door with a clang, just as there came a brief knock at the door.

But this was not the loud bashing of Negan, she knew that for sure. This was softer, more tentative.

Blake strolled across the room, tucking her long hair behind her ear as she did so, before hauling open the door, her lips pursed.

Standing there was Dwight, looking back at her blankly, knife at his belt and that same old awful scar lingering across his cheek.

"Negan wants to see you downstairs," he uttered matter-of-factly, his gaze only meeting with hers for the slightest of seconds, before he tore his eyes away.

Blake knew she had no choice in the matter but to follow him, and so, shutting the door behind her, she headed out into the corridor following Dwight.

The pair walked in silence for a moment or two, before Blake suddenly chanced a glance up at Dwight.

"How long have you been here?" she asked a little cautiously, chewing on her lip.

For a long second Dwight didn't answer her, until-

"Ten months," he uttered in a hollow voice, his eyes never leaving the hallway ahead of him.

Blake's eyes travelled down to the floor before looking back up to him finally.

"You came here alone?" she asked in a quiet voice as they rounded a corner and headed through a door which came out on top of a long circular staircase Blake recognised from yesterday.

Again, Dwight didn't answer for a long moment before he finally let out a curt- "No."

And Blake could tell that that was the end of that conversation. Dwight's jaw was clenched and he looked angry discussing this with her. So she didn't push the matter any further as they ambled slowly down the long staircase, before finally reaching the bottom.

"Through here," Dwight muttered after a second later, as Blake led the way, making to go down the second staircase they approached, but instead Dwight held open a door on their right for her to pass through, leading them in a direction Blake had not been before.

She looked at Dwight a little unsurely before walking into a large spacious room.

The room was bright, surrounded by dusty stained glass window panes. It was alive with hustle and bustle of Saviours going about their business, decked out like some sort of huge marketplace, with lots of trestle tables set up with salvaged wares, as well as what looked like various food items and medical supplies.

This looked like a little community in itself and Blake spotted the same sort of faces here as she had done the previous day in the dinner hall. Many older people, who looked they were not able to fight, as well as a lot of younger kids that certainly were not old enough to handle themselves out there.

This indeed certainly looked like a safe haven for people like that.

Was it Negan who had really built all this?

But before Blake's thoughts could dwell so much on the annoying leader of the Saviours, she saw the man himself appear through the crowd of people.

He was taller than most, and so easily spottable in that leather jacket, biker boots and barbed-wire covered baseball-bat combo.

"Well don't you look like a million bucks all spruced up, like you're ready for a day out at the mall," he said flashing her a grin as the crowd of people before him parted, bowing their heads and staring down at the ground nervously.

Blake rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as he approached her.

"Is this your mall?" she said in a mocking tone, offering him a simpering look. Behind them Dwight sauntered away obviously having work of his own to attend to.

But Negan merely eyed her, coming to stop just a foot away from her, swinging Lucille up and across his shoulder.

"I guess you could say that," he said flashing her an approving smile. "But at this mall, you don' need to pay for anythin'. Anythin' you want, Doll-face, is on me."

He placed his free hand to his chest graciously. But Blake wasn't so convinced.

She narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired man.

"Why?" she said pursing her lips, keeping her arms folded across herself a little defensively.

But Negan chuckled, arching his back and leaning in towards her.

"Soft spot, Peaches," he merely uttered with a chuckle, his hand coming to rest at her back.

He urged her forwards. "How 'bout we take a walk?"

Blake gave an audible huff, that only served to make Negan chuckle, and followed him, gazing around the room at the various vendors working behind each of the 'stalls'..

There was one for freshly baked bread, one for medicine, one for canned goods…amongst a lot of others Blake couldn't quite yet make out over the hustle and bustle of people.

"You've built up quite an empire for yourself," she said a little offishly, feeling slightly irritable. "Nice to see that you've built your success off the back of others."

"Now, now, sweetheart," said Negan, his hand never leaving her back. "Do not fuckin' start all that again."

Blake gave a grumble, stopping for a moment to admire a stall full of knives, guns and utensils from afar, before moving on to the next stall beside it, full of tattered old clothes, sock, pants, overcoats, thinking guiltily to the closet full of brand new clothes she had upstairs.

Negan stopped beside her, watching her carefully, but Blake didn't care.

To her left, a skinny looking woman with short greying hair, wearing a vest approached, picking up a large woolly sweater and turning it over in her hands.

"H-How much?" she stuttered nervously to the stall-holder, one eye on Negan.

The grumpy looking woman behind the stall, about Blake's age with tied back brown hair chewing gum, looked up from her ledger uninterestedly.

"48 points," she muttered lazily, popping her gum.

Almost immediately the skinny woman hurriedly placed down the sweater and turned away looking forlorn.

It was obvious that she did not have enough points.

Blake stared after her as she walked away. Was this the existence these people were really left to?

"Now you see, that is the way of my great-big-world unfortunately," came Negan's voice suddenly in her ear. "You either work hard enough for the points, or you get shit."

But Blake turned to him scowling. Angry at the injustice of this place.

"And how exactly are people expected to work for you, huh?" she said suddenly raising her voice, causing the skinny woman, the stall-holder and a couple of people nearby to look over at her suddenly. "What? You make the attractive women your wives and the rest end up starving? Fucking fantastic."

"Now you better watch your damn language around me, Doll," said Negan in a half- teasing, yet half- warning voice.

But Blake felt her blood boiling and she brought herself up to her full height, rounding on Negan, jabbing him in the chest with her finger.

"I know men like you," she uttering scowling. "You come with a system that works for you and only you. You make people think that they need you to survive. You use people."

Blake knew from first-hand experience what men like that were like.

She gave a gulp, her mind flitting to David. But she instantly pushed these thoughts from her head.

"But that doesn't make you a leader. That just makes you an asshole," she finished, teeth bared, as Negan's face became suddenly serious, his chocolate eyes boring into hers.

Blake had had it with him…with this place…this stupid points system. Had these people really survived….for this?

She turned on her heel suddenly, snatching up the sweater, as the Saviour behind the stall snapped her gum , getting to her feet.

"Hey!" she cried out in surprise, but Blake wasn't taking orders from her.

She held the sweater out towards the skinny older woman.

"Here take it," Blake said in a firm voice. "I'm giving it to you. Consider it a gift from Negan."

The woman looked hurriedly at Negan, looking frightened, as the stall holder did the same.

But Negan, his lips still fixed in a grim line, looked angry…

Was he about to use Lucille on Blake for her insolence? She wished he would. Just to see what would happen.

Negan was silent for what felt like the longest moment, as the stall holder matched up to Blake, pulling a knife from her belt obviously ready to haul her back and punish her-

"Let her have the fuckin' thing," said Negan suddenly with an irritable tone. And as Blake looked back at him over her shoulder, she saw that his jaw was clenched and his eyes were steely and fixed on her.

The stall-holder gave a huff of what seemed like disappointment, as the skinny woman took the sweater graciously from Blake's grasp. "T-Thank you," she said in a whisper. "I-It's for my daughter…s-she's just turned ten years old."

And with that, she took the sweater and disappeared off into the crowd, her head bowed, obviously frightened of Negan and his men and women's wrath.

But Blake turned back to Negan, looking serious.

"A leader needs compassion," she said bitterly, looking up at him, her gaze dark.

Negan had lavished gifts on her, probably his wives too…..but he had made these poor people work their fingers to the bone and for what…not even enough points to afford a sweater that the Saviours had looted anyway?

But Negan just stared back at Blake, running his tongue over his straight line of white teeth, looking deadpan.

"That what the great Rick told you before he killed a whole bunch of my fuckin' men?" he muttered in a low voice.

Now the entire room had stopped what they were doing and were turned to them, listening intently.

It was unlikely anyone ever survived talking to Negan like this, but Blake knew she was too far gone now.

She knew she had to do something. To make a stand.

"Rick didn't bludgeon two men to death just to prove a point!" said Blake furiously, suddenly moving swiftly over to her left and grabbing a large knife from the nearby table, laden with weapons of varying kinds.

At this, Dwight, the female stall-holder, and at least 3 other men suddenly, stepped forwards, raising their guns and their own knives, towards her.

Blake knew she was royally screwed now, but she still held the knife out towards Negan defiantly.

"Baby, baby, baby," uttered Negan, his voice low and growling, causing a sudden silence to fall over the room. "Y'know, I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand."

His lips suddenly curved up into a wide grin, which Blake had not been expecting. He was such an imposing guy and that grin only served to make Blake feel even more nervous.

Was Negan just another David? Using her and everyone around him to get his own way? She already had one man in her life like that, she couldn't afford another. But surrounded by Negan and his men, she was trapped, like she had been since she had got here. Given the pretence of freedom, with a room and clean clothes, but in reality, she was as much trapped by the Sanctuary as she was by David.

Blake shifted her weight from foot to foot, feeling totally and utterly hopeless right now.

She gave a gulp and stared back at Negan, letting out a long tired sigh. No matter what she did he would always be the one with Lucille, and she would always be the one under his power….under the Saviours power.

"Well I liked you better when you didn't even know I existed," she said suddenly, dejectedly, dropping the knife to the floor with a clatter.

As soon as she had done so, she was hastily grabbed by her caramel-blonde hair, by the brown haired-stall holder, and forced to her knees, a knife suddenly cutting into her cheek.

None of this was as bad as the hurt she had felt by David's hand, and so Blake winced, but did not cry out.

She was stronger than that. She had to be.

This was obviously the point where Negan would finally be using Lucille on her. Blake was even on her knees ready for it…just like Glen and Abraham had been.

She closed her eyes, letting out a breath steadying herself…waiting for death to come to her.

"Oh you'll pay for all that," hissed the woman's voice in her ear. "You stupid bitch!"

But Blake merely breathed…in and out…..and opened her eyes once again, as the blade pressed hard and cold into her cheek.

She was ready.

But it was then, that Negan spoke.

"Ah, ah, ah, Becky, Sweetheart," came his sudden sign-song voice, arching his back as he strolled towards Blake and her captor, Becky. "You donot want to do that."

Blake noticed Becky stare up at Negan, looking a little confused as he approached her. And to Blake's surprise, he pointed Lucille at the brown-haired woman's face.

"If you fuckin' pull that knife back, and I see you've drawn blood on Blake here's, pretty-little-face," said Negan staring down at Becky and baring his teeth. "Then there is gonna be HELL to pay!"

With those words, he leant backwards, his words loud and carrying across the now-quiet room.

Blake looked up into his long, tanned face, frowning.

What the hell?

Why was he defending her? After all that she had said to him?

Becky immediately retracted the knife carefully from Blake's face and stumbled backwards scrambling to her feet, backing hurriedly away from Negan, back into the crowd.

It was then that Negan turned to Blake, his face unreadable and held out a hand towards her.

"Doll?" he offered, in that same old low drawl of his.

Blake's heart thudded in her chest…

And it took her a long moment or two, to even bring herself to move…

Before she slowly…tentatively…reached out and took his hand...allowing him to pull her to his feet. She didn't know why she did it…

She didn't understand why she wasn't already dead? Was this some sort of game?

She stood, as Negan kept her hand held tightly in his, his eyes still on her.

Even when he spoke loudly to the surrounding crowd, his eyes never left hers, not even for a moment.

"Now listen up all you pieces of utter shit," he said in a growling voice. "Any of you, even thinks about touching a hair on her head, you're gonna have to answer to me. No, exceptions. We clear?"

The crowd was silent.

It was then and only then, that Negan tore his eyes away from hers bringing himself up to his full height and placing Lucille up onto his shoulder.

"I said- ARE WE CLEAR?" he yelled in a loud, furious tone.

There was a sudden murmur as everyone around them bowed their heads in acceptance. Everyone in the room conforming to Negan's will.

Blake looked up at him, standing there….a leader…..like no one she had ever met before.

She had been wrong… he was not another David after all.

No….

For he was Negan.

There was no other way to describe him. All tall and looming ….causing her breath to catch slightly in her throat as she looked at him.…

He was so strange to her. Calling her a queen, defended her in front of his men, given her everything she had wanted. And why?

Her heart thudded in her chest, faster now that it had when she had had a knife to her cheek…

She had defied him and he'd let her. Him...Negan…he'd just let her walk all over him.

Blake pondered why.

A moment or two passed, where the crowd looking on thinned out, with everyone going about their business once again, a soft muttering passing through the room. But Blake could tell everyone looked cautious and frightened of what Negan was capable of doing next.

Blake looked down at the floor, before her eye caught Negan's chocolate ones once again.

Why her? Of everyone here…why her? She was no more attractive than any of his wives. She had yet to give him any information on Rick. And she had been anything but cooperative with him so far. And yet he had given her a room, a closet full of clothes, and told her that anything she wanted here was hers. Did he really have that soft spot for her he kept talking about? Or was all this some sort of game?

She had only been here two days….two long days. She wasn't special in any way. She barely even knew Negan, and yet….when he looked at her with those dark eyes of his, she saw something in them. Something she didn't get from David or any other men that had ever entered her life. Something warm and familiar…and sort of safe.

Which was the complete opposite of how she knew she should have been feeling around him.

But Negan turned to her, his lips curving up into a wide grin, as he leant in towards her ear, his hand shifting from hers, to the small of her back instead.

But Blake no longer flinched from his touch. She felt at ease around him. Stronger and more confident than she had felt in years. Maybe he was, what he had oh-so-aptly called himself and his people. Maybe he was her saviour.

"Y'know there was only one other person in my life I ever, ever let talk to me the way you just did, Peaches," Negan uttered in a husky voice into her ear.

Blake blinked a couple of times, turning her head to face him.

Negan's long face was now just a whisper away from hers…

She could feel his warm breath on her neck…sending shivers down her spine.

Blake saw him lick his lips, his chocolate eyes travelling down to hers….the crowd around them seeming like a blur….

Right now it felt like they were the only two people that mattered. The only two people in the world.

"…and I hope you know, that when you use that naughty-little badass tone of yours," continued Negan with a wicked smile. "...you become even hotter to me, if that. is. even. possible!"

He looked down at her admiringly, his eyes travelling over her features.

But Blake stopped, suddenly shaking herself from her daydream, pursing her lips in his direction and shooting him a disapproving frown.

The moment was obviously gone.

"…and y'know, the offer's still there if you did wanna go back to your room and have a lil' afternoon de-light with yours truly?" Negan finished, raising an eyebrow and staring at her suggestively.

But Blake just rolled her eyes.

She quickly pressed her hand to his taut chest, holding him at arm's length.

"Ugh, you're despicable, you know that?" she muttered, giving a tut, going back to her usual annoyance at him.

Her fingertips grasped lightly at the fabric of his grey t-shirt for a second, before she let go, turning on her heel and walking slowly away from him. Knowing for fact that he would follow her.

And he did, of course.

A moment later he felt him stride up behind her, falling into step at her side, and throwing his leather-clad arm haphazardly around her shoulders teasingly.

"Still not that worst thing you've called me today, Doll-face" he said in a low voice, giving a smile, revealing a row of perfect teeth. "So I'll take that."

Blake tutted at him once more, but couldn't help but feel her lips try to twitch up into a smirk, but instead she just shook her head as the pair walked across the room together, parting the apprehensive crowd before them as they went.

But what neither of them seemed to notice, was a single face in the crowd, at the far back of the room, staring at the pair of them, face twisted into a dark, seething frown.

David.

Blake may have finally found her feet in this place…finally finding a moment of confidence.….but David knew that he wasn't going to let her have that. This was his place…not hers….hehad been the one that wanted to come here. Wanting to have something more for himself…because he deserved it….not Blake.

She had just been his way in. His pawn. He didn't need her. He didn't want her. But there was no way he was going to let her find even the slightest bit of happiness here. Just because she had somehow found an in with Negan, that didn't mean she wasn't still his fiancée after all. She belonged to him and only him. And he could do with her what he liked.

For at the end of all this, this was to be his home. And not hers. Never hers. That had always been the plan.

So David knew he only had one choice….a choice that he had made a long, long time ago…

He was going to have to get rid of Blake, so that he could get what he wanted…

….one way or another.

.............................

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in further chapters of this fic....

@collette04 @attorneyl @charoly @princessmoonspunky @mssharingisfun

[jloves-pp]

The Tribe of Paraven: Book of Magic part 3

Chapter 3: The big four

There were strange happenings in the attic; there was a faint sound that had awoken a teenage boy from his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes, wondering what woke him and recognise it was his friend.

"Hey Baby Tooth" the boy said to the fairy. She fluttered as she watched her friend slowly stand up, he felt a bit dizzy and a bit confused. "This is...an attic" he said looking around, the boy saw the fairy nodding and squeaked (which is how she talked) to him. "Yeah I know, let's find a way out" as he looked, he picked up a wooden staff that had a G shape at one end which was his. After picking the staff up, the boy and Baby Tooth walked around the boxes and furniture to find a way out.

He saw a window on the other side of the room and thought it was the perfect way out. He placed a foot down and quickly pulled it back he had stood on something, he thought it was some rope. Curious, he knelt down for a better look, Baby Tooth hovered next to him and they both discovered it wasn't rope but golden hair. Their eyes followed the hair and saw it continued around a corner. The duo then found that the trail of hair seemed to go on forever but finally they found the end.

The boy's eyes widened when they saw it led to a sleeping girl.

He slowly walked up to her, trying not to wake her to take a better look. She wore a pink and purple dress with colourful stitching on the skirt. Her very long hair was almost covering her like a blanket the rest spilled out across the floor. He was able to see her round face with a small scattering of light freckles across small button nose.

The boy thought she was beautiful and wondered why was she up there? He and Baby Tooth looked at each other but neither of them knew what to do. They heard a peep that made them jump a little. They soon saw what made the noise it a small green chameleon, it was popping out from behind the girl, giving them a glare. The boy took a few steps back and held his arms up, thinking the creature was going to jump on him. The girl started to stir. The chameleon turned, this gave the boy and fairy a chance to hide, Baby Tooth hid in her friend's hood while the boy hid behind stack of old books. He knew that she wouldn't be seen and it was better safe than sorry.

The blonde haired girl yawned, stretched and on opening her eyes she found her pet chameleon smiling at her " Good morning Pascal" she said cheerfully before letting Pascal climb on to her hand. "What do you say, how about we make cupcakes today?, red velvet ones", her bright smile faded when her little friend squeaked and for the first time, she look up and her eyes widened. She thought she was in her home but she found herself somewhere she didn't recognise.

She quickly stood up, wondering where she was. The boy could see the fear on her face growing, he wished he could help but knew she couldn't see or hear him, just then he stepped on an old floorboard and it creaked. The girl jumped at the sound and quickly grabbed something from the chair. He was surprised to see, what she was holding was a frying pan. Before he could question why she had a frying pan he heard...

"Who's there? You should know I'm not afraid and if you don't come out, I'll find you and you'll be sorry"

The boy thought she couldn't be talking to him (he was invisible) but he didn't have time to stand there all day and she was in the same situation as he was. Not knowing what else is do, he breathed in, held up his hands and stepped out into the open.

The blonde haired girl was taken aback by who had stood out, she expected a huge ugly thug with pointy teeth, instead she saw a boy around her age. Strangely he was pale and had white spiky hair, he wore brown trousers that were torn at the ends and strange blue clothing (a sweatshirt) which she had never knew seen before. She couldn't help think to herself that this boy-whoever he is-is handsome but maybe it was because he was the first boy she had ever seen.

Seeing her lower her frying pan and looking straight at him, a hopeful thought came into his head

"Wait, you...you can see me" he said without a second hesitation.

She was confused by this. Of course she could see him, what an odd question but she still held up her pan in readiness and said

"Yes, I can see you. Now I have a question. Who are you and why did you bring me here?"

He couldn't fight a smile growing on his face but he came back to reality by Pascal who was perched on the girl's shoulder groaning at him,

"Wait you don't know who I am?

"No", she replied as she and her chameleon shook their heads.

"Ok, first my name is Jack Frost".

"Jack Frost?" She replied in bewilderment, she had heard of the winter spirit but she couldn't recall where.

"Yeah the same one and second, it seems were in the same boat" Jack continued as the placed his staff on his shoulder.

"So you didn't kidnap me… and want to use my hair?" The girl questioned.

"What, no, why would I want to do that? I just awoke and found myself here like you" Jack expected.

She thought before asking

"But how do I know if I can trust you", she knew she shouldn't trust strangers, it was what her mother had always told her, but she didn't know where or how far she was from home and something was telling her to trust him.

"Well, once we get out of this place I can take you home, straight home, in no time. That's my promise", Jack said before holding out his hand.

The girl looked at his hand, she glanced at Pascal who simply shrugged at her and then to Jack. It was a fair deal, she needed all the help she could get and she never broke at promise. Finally she said,

"My name is Rapunzel", as she shook his hand.

"Rapunzel? That's an unusual name!" The winter spirit commented, Jack had heard of a story about a girl with long hair, he wondered if she was the same one, which doesn't seem impossible. As he said this Baby Tooth flew by and started chirping at Jack who just smirked.

"Is that a hummingbird? I've never seen one like that before" Rapunzel asked, looking in wonder.

"Actually, she's a fairy. A tooth fairy to be exact" Jack explained rubbing his neck.

"Say hi Baby Tooth"

Rapunzel held up her hand to let Baby Tooth landed on it.

"Hey there little one, oh and this is my best friend Pascal" Rapunzel giggled holding out her other hand up for the chameleon climb onto.

The two small creatures tilted their heads and smiled and then started chatting to each other. Both teens smiled at their companions, they watched them before Jack cleared his throat,

"We'd better start looking for a way out"

"Oh right" Rapunzel replied before she put Pascal back on her shoulder "Mother will be worried sink when she finds I'm gone".

"Hey, we'll get you home soon", Jack said flashing her a smirk which cheered Rapunzel up, with Baby Tooth flying ahead, Jack and Rapunzel move carefully forward the maze like room but it didn't take long till Rapunzel called out,

"Look, there's a door" Jack turned to see it, Rapunzel was moving quickly, she was too distracted to notice an old doll that she stepped on. She almost fell but Jack saved her in the nick of time. Rapunzel caught her breath, she gasped and realised she was floating a few feet in the air.

Jack had flew up and quickly grabbed her by the waist, his steadied her and reassuringly said

"It's ok Punz, I got you" in a calming voice, when he saw how surprised she was.

The winter spirit gently landed the both of them back on the floor. It was then they both noticed of how close they were, they quickly separated, blushed and both laughed nervously.

"Wait, Punz?" she questioned as she tucked in a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah!" he said rubbing his neck "I thought I'd give you a nickname, you don't mind, do you?

"No, I don't mind, I've had one before".

"Well good, I was going to call you that anyway ".

"Careful, Frost, you don't want mess with me", Rapunzel replied pointing her frying pan at him.

Jack couldn't help but find it cute when she tried to be tough even though she appeared to be sweet and innocent "OK, I've learned my lesson. I wouldn't mess with you" he playfully replied, they both laughed at this. In just short while they had become comfortable with each other it was they'd known each other ages. Jack then noticed how beautiful Rapunzel's eyes were. Bright, spring green eyes, Rapunzel herself had noticed at Jack's icy blue eyes, for a second she could of sworn she can see snowflakes in them.

She was mesmerized until Rapunzel heard a low groaning sound. "What was that?"

"Probably rats". Jack simple answered, he had heard the sound but he thought it was something harmless "Nothing to be scared of",nbut as he said that, Rapunzel, Pascal and Baby Tooth saw of ornaments on a nearby table being knocked over and the sound getting louder and louder. Rapunzel's eyes widened when she saw a large black lizard like foot, after a few moments, more of the strange creature appeared and revealed what looked like a dragon.

Jack turned he was shocked but he quickly gripped his staff and stood protectively in front of the golden haired girl, the two of them stood their ground when the creature spotted them with its green eyes and began to growl.

Seeing this, Baby Tooth flew into Jack's hood while Pascal hid in Rapunzel's hair.

The dragon growled deeply as it moved slowly closer while the two teens back away. It would have ended in a fight if not for a voice crying out

"Toothless! Stop" a voice cried out, to the teens surprise, a boy ran from where the dragon had appeared and were more surprised to see him reach out a touch the dragon meaningfully. He was younger than Jack or Rapunzel, he wore a long sleeve shirt and brown trousers and a brown animal fur vest.

He turned to the others. "If you want to hurt Toothless, you'll have to go through me" he said standing in front of his friend.

"Hurt him?" Jack said in bewilderment, "If anyone was go to hurt someone one, it's that overgrown lizard", he added pointed his staff at the dragon who growled angrily at the spirit.

"No", Rapunzel said strongly and loudly than she thought, but she didn't want this to end in a fight. "Maybe there has been a huge misunderstanding, so maybe we should all start again; both boys looked at her before looking at each other

"Hi, I'm Rapunzel and this is Jack", she said brightly, holding out her hand to the boy.

"I'm Hiccup", he finished said shaking her hand.

"Really, your name is Hiccup?" Jack was tried to hide his laugher but wasn't hiding it well.

"Jack, be nice". Rapunzel said warningly giving him a hard stare and the dragon joined her by growling in a low rumble and showing his teeth.

"Yes, I know but it's not the worst and this is Toothless" Hiccup then said patting his friends head.

"Toothless?...But he has teeth, lots of teeth", Rapunzel pointed out but just as she said it, the dragon retracted his teeth which made both Rapunzel and Jack jump a little.

"Ok that's cool," Jack admitted after the shock. At that moment Pascal and Baby Tooth peeked out from their hiding places, they were scared but began to feel confident seeing the boy and his dragon.

"Oh Pascal, say hello to Toothless" Rapunzel said cheerfully, she had the chameleon in her hands and held them out so Toothless and Pascal could get acquainted.

"Big lizard meet small lizard" Jack comment joking as Hiccup took a closer look at Pascal. It was then that Pascal change to black, which made him look a bit like a mini Toothless.

"What kind of dragon is he?" Hiccup asked

"Pascal isn't a dragon..." Rapunzel began but,

"Though he's scary as one" she heard Jack said and playfully poke him in his arm, "aw" he moaned but grinned, he then turned to Hiccup "anyway, how do you get here?"

"Um, to be honest I don't know. I just woke up and found myself and Toothless here," Hiccup explained scratching his head in thought, it was very strange.

"Just like us", Rapunzel said before she stood up and placed Pascal back on her shoulder.

"Ok, so do you two know who or what brought us here?" Hiccup asked.

"Well we thought you might know", Jack then asked then added "like who or how many there were?"

"No, but they must have done something to us before they took us", Hiccup replied rubbing his neck.

"Yes but..."Rapunzel began but suddenly there was a loud BANG!

The sound made them all jump and turn to where the sound had come from in the far corner of the room.

"It's them! They're here" she squeaked quickly holding Jack's arm.

Toothless began to approach the corner where large boxes and other things were stacked as more bangs and crashes were heard.

"Be careful bud" Hiccup said before the three teens slowly walked up, ready for anything.

"Ok, me and Punz will go around the back and make them run while you, Hiccup and Toothless stay here and stop whatever it is from getting away" Jack whispered telling them his plan.

"But shouldn't we just escape?" Rapunzel question "We can easily leave with Toothless protecting us" she added holding out her hand to said dragon.

"Yes, but we don't know who that is or how powerful it may are?" Hiccup said, Toothless nodded in agreement as they heard another noise but then as they listened it became clear that it was someone was talking and complaining.

"Maybe we should think of a Plan B" Hiccup commented after a moment.

"Ok what do you do suggest?" Jack turned to Hiccup but before Hiccup could speak...

"You know I can hear you"

A voice came behind the wall of boxes. The voice was definitely female but the boys thought it sounded like she had a Scottish voice.

"Now can anyone give me a little help to me get out of this mess?"

None of them spoke for a moment before Rapunzel asked,

"Aren't you able to climb out?"

"No" the voice responded "It's too unstable to climb",

"Can you see any opening?"

"Is there no way around" Jack asked still wary, still she might also been kidnapped, like them.

"No, it's like a wall, there's not even so much as a crack" the voice said.

"Wait, look there", Hiccup suddenly said. As Jack and Rapunzel answered to the voice, he had been looking around and had spotted a thin gap within in the wall of boxes.

"If we try to pull those boxes aside, the gap will be big enough to push out", Hiccup said to the others pointing at the boxes.

"Ok Punz, you pull this side and I'll pull this side", Jack said instantly taking charge.

They all started working to free the mystery person. They found their places and pulled, after a short while they managed to make the gap big enough.

Rapunzel said, "Can you see the gap now?" As she spoke they heard footsteps, they were getting loud, that meant someone was heading towards them.

"Yes, I found it!" replied a voice, suddenly an arm popped through the space they had made, then a leg followed.

"Nearly...there" he heard the voice groaned and with a few more pushes she popped out, she gave one last push the force of which almost made her bang into something but luckily for her, Hiccup was standing in front of the gap so he caught her.

Jack and Rapunzel released their grip and turned to see a girl with her arms around Hiccup's neck as he trying to hold her up.

"Are...are you…alright ", Hiccup manage to say.

"I'm fine" she said as she found her footing and moved her hands to his shoulders and cleared her hair from her face", But as soon as I get my handed on whoever's taken me l'll..." She started but stopped once her eyes locked with Hiccup's. He could see she had a roundish face with light freckles and a button nose but he was taken most by her sky blue eyes. He couldn't help but think she was the most beautiful girl he ever seen, his mouth opened as he stared.

The girl wasn't sure why but she couldn't help but staring into his green eyes. To her, this boy looked normal, she saw gentleness and kindness in those eyes.

"Hi" she finally said after a moment.

"Hi" Hiccup replied feeling his cheeks redden, he realised he was still staring.

"Um…thank you...for catching me" She finally said giving shy smile.

"You're...you're welcome" Hiccup managed to say. For the longest time their eyes never left each other. It was like they were under a spell but it was broken when Jack cleared his throat. He and Rapunzel were watching them, both wondering what to do.

Hiccup and the girl let go of each other and moved back a few steps, she brushed herself down, the three teens could see the girl was wearing a bluely-green dress, her long sleeves had been cut relative white puffy fabric showing. Around her waist was a quiver which held arrows and her light coloured bow over her shoulder but the one thing they found shocking was her hair, she had a mass of red long curly hair.

"Hi, I love your hair. I've never seen hair that colour before" Rapunzel said brightly "Then again I've never seen people with brown or white hair either".

The redhead at first didn't know what to reply to that. It was then she noticed Rapunzel long hair.

"Oh and I like yours", she had seen long hair before but Rapunzel was so long, her eyes follow the long trail of hair until she saw next in the hair was something black and looked up to see Toothless. When she saw the creature, the redhead took a few steps back, more out of shock than fear.

"Is...is that... "she managed to say.

"Well if you mean is that a dragon? Then yes, this is Toothless and he's really harmless, err most of the time!" Hiccup softly said to calm her as said the dragon stood next to his rider and Hiccup petted him.

Toothless groaned softly in reply which made her jump a bit. "Well he just said is nice to meet you" Hiccup said which made her laugh a little.

"I've never seen a real one before" she said before looking at the dragon "It's grand to meet you too!" to this, Toothless responded to this and gave her a big toothless smile, the redhead smiled brightly.

She looked at Hiccup then at Toothless "You're friends with a dragon?" she asked.

"Well this is great and all but should've just asked your name first" Jack finally interrupted.

"Oh Merida, my name is Merida" The redhead replied grinning. "So I now met Toothless but I don't know your name"

"Oh sorry" Rapunzel said first. "I'm Rapunzel and this is my friend Jack", she added, pointing to the White haired boy.

"And you? What's your name" Merida asked turning to Hiccup, startling him.

"Ur..ur" Hiccup muttered feel his cheeks pink up. "H...Hiccup"

Merida was about burst out laughing but she noticed a sad expression, was embarrassed by his name. "I've heard worse" she said and saw small smile on Hiccup's face.

"Yeah anyway" Jack interrupted again "I guessing you woke up here as well", Jack continued leaning on his staff.

"Err yes!" Merida replied crossing her arms "and looking through the gap where she had emerged from. '' I don't know who brought me here but it looks like I'm not the only one.

"Well that's my question, why are we here, why us?" Jack asked. They all looked at each another, wondering about question. They were starting to have their own ideas on why they all seemed to be collected together, all four knew whoever had kidnapped them would make them selves known soon and they needed to escape before they arrived.