#so i turned mob griefing off because it was INSIDE MY BASE for a bit and i was tired of making new chests to put all my shit into bcus it

[patchofhope]

fucking screaming and crying im playing MC eteranl and a wholeass dragon barges through my coolass wizard tower and fucking kills almost all my pets it fucking KILLED SAMANDRIEL IM FUCKIGN PISSED. I RAISED THAT COCKATRICE FROM A CHICK AS WELL AS EVERY OTHER ONE. also killed my horse. and my hippogryph. and like all but 2 of my cockatrices. the survivors? Anna and Eileen the cockatrices Gooplord the III and Ratmantha the rats. 2 of the dipshit pixies i randomly grabbed and the DOG named after LUCIFER who was noticably MISSING DURING THE ATTACK -squint- rip in pip my fallen comrades ill remember you always

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Lunar Violence (jjk)

Summary: You’re not a big fan of your best friend’s favorite band, Lunar Violence. Their werewolf gimmick makes you roll your eyes, even if the music isn’t too bad. When she drags you to a concert just as the blood moon rises, though, everything changes.

Warnings: werewolf sex, possessive behavior, choking, knotting, marking, heats and ruts so whatever consent issues you feel are within that realm, unrpotected sex, werewolf dick, abo dynamics

Word Count:7445

Rating: Explicit

You're not normally a fan of gimmicks, particularly with your music. So when your best friend begs you for a solid week to go with her to this concert, you're wary when you do a simple Google search.

Lunar Violence might be the dumbest fucking name for a band you've ever heard, but they certainly seem like they're going for a certain vibe. You'd definitely have been into it when you were a teen, the fake fangs, the facial piercings and torn leather pants, the howling they do at the ends of some of their songs.

The music itself isn't bad, the lead singer is stupid hot and has a smooth low tenor and bedroom eyes. 

You flip through only a few of the member pictures before making a decision based on the fact that they're good eye candy, at least.

Your friend Jia jumps up and down excitedly when you tell her and shows you the signs she's made. She's got a thing for the one they call Happy, a lean bassist who has a bright smile and a sexy glare.

"What are with these names? The seven dwarfs? I think they're mixing metaphors."

Jia snorts. "They call the drummer Baby because he's the youngest. It’s not that dumb and the music is really good, you’ll love it, I promise!"

"This is so dumb. You owe me."

"If I get close enough to Happy to make eye contact I'm gonna make him mine and then I'll give you anything you want." Jia says determinedly.

It’s a few weeks before the concert, so you find yourself listening to a few albums and actually getting pretty excited about it. It should be a fun time, get you away from the stress of your every day life, at the least.

You had no way of knowing that the night of the concert would complicate your life tenfold.

“Do we always have to schedule concerts around rutting season?” Namjoon whines after hitting yet another wrong chord on his guitar.

“It’s the best part about this job!” Hoseok grins.

“I can’t fucking concentrate being horny all the time, I agree with Joon,” Yoongi agrees, banging his forehead down on the keyboard.

“Should have called you Horny rather than Lucky,” Seokjin snorts, and Hoseok laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his bass guitar.

Jungkook watches them with a fond smile on his face, his brothers. Not by blood, of course but being the only werewolves in the city made them have an instant connection and camaraderie, and they’d created a pack pretty quickly. The music had come later, they’d all been interested in it, all had some talent and all been blessed with good looks, and after that it was only a matter of who did what and stage names.

Kim Seokjin, with his regal looks and sharp jaw: Prince.

Min Yoongi, with the scar over his left eye he’d gotten scrapping with a grey wolf in the woods behind his house in Daegu as a pup: Lucky.

Jung Hoseok with his easy smile and eager nature: Happy.

Kim Namjoon, always so serious and intelligent: Beethoven. 

Park Jimin, with his pretty face and sneaky smirk: Sly.

Kim Taehyung with his sweet nature and affectionate personality: Honey.

Finally, Jeon Jungkook, because he'd been barely old enough to breed when they'd met: Baby.

"Baby hasn't had his first rut yet, yeah?" It's Jimin, smirking, always giving Jungkook grief about something. 

Jungkook narrows his eyes and chucks a drumstick at him but it's no use, Jimin catching it in one band and twirling it like a goddamn baton. Jungkook would say Jimin was graceful if he hadn't seen him fall off about a dozen barstools and half a dozen stages, sober even for the latter.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?” Seokjin speaks up, and Jungkook knows he’s teasing but it stings a little, nonetheless. 

“He’s only just turned 23. You were two weeks from your 23rd before you ever popped a knot, hyung, or have you forgotten?” Namjoon snarks, and Jungkook snickers as Seokjin makes a face, that vein on his neck pulsing just a bit.

He shouldn’t laugh, they’re just as likely to come to blows during the beginning of a rut and in a full moon cycle, but he can’t help himself

Yoongi, as usual, manages to keep the peace by offering to order pizza and foot the bill, a truly saintlike act since they could go through a pizza each, as hot as their temperature would be running by now.

Jungkook doesn’t say that he’s had a knot for two years now, the very thought of his hyungs knowing that makes him blush so much he hides it by wiping his face with a towel, pretending to have been sweating. 

Truly, he should have had a rut by now, triggered by all the pheromones' from the shows they’d been doing, this tour had been particularly rough due to the upcoming blood moon, at least for all the other boys, and it isn’t as if Jungkook hasn’t mated, of course, but a full rut? Not even the hint of it. It worries him, but Namjoon keeps assuring him that everyone gets there in time, people are just different.

Taehyung had been a late bloomer himself, not starting his first rut until he met and fell in love with his girlfriend, a short feisty redhead he’d met after a hand injury from stringing his bass guitar and slicing his palm open. She’d been a nurse who scolded him for not coming in sooner and it’d been almost instant, her green eyes triggering every wolf thing about him, or at least that’s how he tells it, all wide eyed and dreamy.

She’s a near constant in Taehyung’s hotel rooms now, sometimes riding along on the tour bus, but he doesn’t let her into anymore of the concerts even when she pouts, because human mates around a group of wolves around rutting season can be a dangerous time.

Taehyung is one of the gentlest wolves Jungkook knows, but he’d seen him snarl when Yoongi so much as winked at the redhead near a rut, so it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, Jungkook wasn’t worried (much). He’d find his true mate eventually, but probably not at a concert. Maybe he’d start his rut there, at least, around the full moon. He’d never have imagined that he’d find both.

The crowd is nice enough, although they seem a little feral. Some of these girls have signs that should be x rated, but you're not one to judge, especially since you've never actually….done anything too x-rated. 

You feel a little strange when you enter the concert venue and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shrug and blame it on the strong drink your friend had made you chug before you entered since she couldn’t finish it all herself.

It’s like there’s something living under your skin, some rush like heat, and it  makes you feel antsy, ready to dance along to the music or at least laugh at your friend losing her mind next to you.

There’s a lot of gimmick to the concert and it’s bright and dark at the same time near the stage. You’d swear you’d seen the guitarist strum with no pick, with a sharp claw instead, but you’re sure it’s makeup, part of the show. They’re wearing contacts, too, you’re pretty sure, and the music is good, your friend isn’t wrong.

The song you’d heard that you’d like is actually their encore song, heavy on the bass and drums, and the lead singer even makes your skin feel hot a little when he makes eye contact and winks at you. The last solo the lights come down on the drummer, he’s on the back stage so all you can see is his long hair bouncing, the flex of his admittedly impressive biceps as he finishes the song.

You’ve been jumping up and down and singing along so much that you’re sweating and feeling a bit dizzy, so you drag your friend out the back alley while she’s still swooning, having gotten a direct smile from her favorite bassist.

“Did you see him? He looked right at me! We’re in love, Y/n. Do you want to be my maid of honor?” She’s babbling when you hear the click of a lighter next to you.

There’s people milling about, it wasn’t exactly a sold out show but there was a decent crowd, and people are now piling into the bar next door.

“Did you like the show?” 

When you turn your head you’re shocked to see that it’s the lead singer, a couple strands of his silver hair falling over his eye as he smiles at you.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I liked it very...very much,” you stammer. He’s even more handsome up close. Those are some really good contacts, you can’t tell they aren’t real at all, even though surely no one’s eyes are a violet color like that.

“Sly!” Your friend screams, and you jolt forward, surprised.

The singer’s hand lights on your shoulder and you look down. You have time to think that they must make great money for these expensive special effects because they sure do look like claws before your friend rushes past you, yelling because Happy had come out the back with the rest of the band.

There’s no mob or anything, maybe a dozen people other than you and Jia, but it makes you a bit anxious nonetheless, especially since you’re still feeling just as antsy, hot and dizzy as you were before.

It might be worse, actually, as you stand outside in the moonlight.

“Sly’s just my stage name.” His voice sounds softer, closer to your ear as he leans in. “You can call me Jimin.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, unused to feeling this way. You’re usually more outgoing, talkative, but it feels so strange. You find yourself looking up at the sky as if looking for the moon.

It’s better, once you’re inside the bar, there’s not as much of a crowd and you’re sitting at a big table with Sly...Jimin, you remind yourself, and Jia and Happy, who seems to fit his name well, laughing open and loud with your best friend as if they’ve known each other forever.

After a few hours and a couple of drinks you’ve lost most of that antsy feeling since being indoors, and you and Jimin vibe well, becoming fast friends. You’re both flirty and talkative after getting to know each other, and your mood is lifted from the concert, the alcohol, and the socialization.

You even laugh about calling their gimmick dumb as they dodge questions about where they get their makeup and accessories. You assume it’s some kind of sponsorship situation or contract, not thinking much of it.

You manage to excuse yourself long enough to look for the bathroom, although Jia abandons you since she’s made her way into Happy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and with a blissful smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

There’s someone standing in the hall and it’s a narrow hallway and he’s pretty wide from the back so you stumble a little when you turn, placing a hand on the wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” You say, brightly, but when he turns you gasp, a little surprised by the bright red of his eyes before you realize it’s another member of Lunar Violence.

“Hello,” he says, quietly with a little smile and he has these prominent front teeth that are pretty cute, make him look a lot less intimidating, despite those contacts and an eyebrow piercing and his size.

“Oh, hello! You’re…”

“Baby,” he blurts, and it makes you giggle.

You feel a little tipsier than you’d realized, and you guess it must be since you’ve been sitting down for an hour or so and just gotten up.

He puts a hand over his face, embarrassed. “My name is Jungkook,” he explains. “I’m the drummer?”

It’s cute how his voice pitches up into a question, as if you wouldn’t recognize him. He’s definitely a bit more modest than the other two members you’d met, with Jimin and Happy (who you’d just learned also goes by Hoseoki), bragging about tours and performances. 

“Pretty big for a baby,” you tease, and he makes an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat.

“I keep trying to get them to let me change it,” he mutters.

You introduce yourself and he smiles again, and his eyes aren’t as red as you’d thought at first, anyway, maybe it’s just the light. You brush past him as you continue to the bathroom after excusing yourself, and it’s a little zing through you, like static electricity.

It takes you longer in the bathroom than it usually would, that last drink really must have packed a punch, and when you return to the table Jungkook is sitting there, too, next to your empty chair. Jimin looks a little sullen and pouty, but he smiles at you, those violet eyes crinkling up at the corners, and you give him a bright smile back.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is all energy, jiggling his leg and tapping his fingers on the table and Hoseok seems to be watching him intently.

The atmosphere in general seems to have changed, and after exchanging numbers with everyone with the urging of Jia, you two excuse yourself.

The three men walk you outside and Jimin is close while Jungkook hangs back. You imagine Jimin is so close since you mentioned feeling a bit dizzy and he asks you twice if he can call you a car but you tell him that the fresh air will do you good.

It’s funny, the moonlight seems to energize you a bit. When Jimin leans in to kiss you on the cheek, you jump a little at a sound behind you, something like a bark.

Jimin jolts back a little, eyes widening, and you both laugh at your nerves.

“Stray dog,” you remark, and Jimin snorts.

“Something like that.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what exactly the fuck happened after I left?”

Jimin is sullen on the couch, arms crossed over his chest with a busted lip and Jungkook is sitting next to Hoseok on the floor on the other side of the hotel room with tissue up his nose, Hoseok tilting his head back.

“Baby is about to go into rut,” Taehyung sings, laughing, his girlfriend draped over him on the bed drowsily, his teeth marks littering her neck and throat.

“Don’t,” Yoongi warns. “Everyone’s just wound up. Full moon is in two days, after all, cut him some slack.”

“Sees one girl he likes and suddenly no one else can talk to her,” Jimin complains, gingerly working his tongue across his lip ring to see if it’s torn.

“You tried to kiss her,” Jungkook growls, and Hoseok pushes on his chest to keep him from getting up.

Jungkook can’t explain why his wolf wanted to rip Jimin’s throat out when he leaned in to kiss you, he’d just met you, didn’t even know your last name, but it was visceral, sudden, something crawling up his throat. He’d almost moved forward to do it before Hoseok said his name, sharply.

“We all get a little possessive about potential mates around the full moon,” Namjoon reasons. “But that’s not the way to handle it, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hangs his head and removes the tissue from his nose with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, hyung.” He looks over at Jimin but he means it for Namjoon. He’s still bitter, somehow, about Jimin’s hand on your lower back, his lips brushing your cheek. It makes his head feel fuzzy, his guts roll.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been the one to “discover” Jungkook, back when he had no idea why his eyes were starting to change color with the moon cycles or why his nails grew out like claws. He’d started learning percussion just to get rid of some of the energy he had around those times, and he’d been 17 when Namjoon approached him in a music store when Jungkook was looking into buying cymbals. 

Jungkook had been abandoned when he was a baby, adopted at four years old and he had no idea about his wolf lineage, or even that they existed, until Namjoon explained it to him.

“Jungkook doesn’t know his lineage,” Namjoon reminds them all. “He might just be presenting as an alpha, that’s a lot around the full moon, Jimin, you remember.”

Jimin grumbles something under his breath and Jungkook has to take a deep breath through his nostrils, smelling iron from their scuffle earlier, in order not to lunge across the room and hit him again.

Eventually, Jungkook has to move to his own room despite usually bunking with Jimin, and he finds himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He keeps seeing your bright smile, your curls bouncing around as you talked and laughed, mostly at Jimin, and it makes him stiffen to think of how Jimin had met you first.

Why did it matter, anyway? You’re just a person, just like he is, just a girl, and he doesn’t have the best track record with talking to girls, anyway. You’d been in the front row, with your friend who Hoseok had gotten so smiley about, he’d seen you just before he started his set, his vision clearer around the full moon.

The others laughed at him for how he talked about “the wolf,” as if it wasn’t a part of him, as if it wasn’t who he was, but that’s how it had always felt. He just hadn’t had a name for it until he’d met Namjoon. It was like this thing, inside him, this beast, something that clawed and scratched to get out.

Seokjin keeps telling him that he’s fighting the wolf, that’s why he hasn’t gone into rut or popped his knot, that’s why he feels so achy and fidgety around the moon cycles, that’s why he hasn’t shifted. Namjoon would always respond there was no way to know that but Seokjin just rolled his eyes.

“Aish, I’m your hyung, listen to me. I fought mine, too, when I was young, and when I shifted I broke a few bones. You should give in, let it ride in the front seat once in a while.”

Jungkook had nodded at the time but now, he doesn’t know how to do that. Drumming helped, it was a lot of work and energy expelled and it felt like he could let him out, the wolf, just a little. It’s why he’d gotten so big, staying active and lifting weights was something the wolf liked.

The wolf came sometimes when he masturbated, too, when he’d feel particularly worked up around the full moon, after a concert, sweaty and rolling his hips into his hand.

When he tries it after meeting you, he can’t even finish, ending up panting and sore, the wolf still snarling over the memory of Jimin’s lips barely brushing across your cheek.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungkook who texts you first. Wanna go for a drink?

You’re not sure whether to say yes at first, you’ve been feeling so strange. You can barely sleep, your skin feeling hot, as if you’d burned yourself with a too hot shower. You think about that night at the concert a lot, Jimin’s violet eyes, Jungkook’s almost red ones, how odd you’d felt.

You would have talked to Jia about it but she’s been abducted by the werewolf band, apparently, you’ve barely seen her in a week and when you had she’d been littered with hickeys and with a big goofy smile.

Part of you wonders if this is all some sex ring cult but she seems happy, jubilant even, so you agree, meeting Jungkook at a downtown bar.

He’s there before you arrive, you can see him through the window sitting at a table, looking wide and a bit intimidating until he lifts his head and smiles at you with a little wave.

His eyes are a warm brown now, pretty and wide, you’re able to notice the shape more without the contacts.

Jungkook is still all energy, maybe that’s just how he is, talking to you more and more as the nights go on and you two share a pitcher of beer, scooting his chair closer. You find he flushes a pretty rose when you flirt with him and can’t stop laughing when he nearly falls out of his chair when you prop your legs up in his lap.

By the end of the night he can’t stop smiling at you and you’re intrigued, moreso than you’d imagined you would be when you’d first met him, smiling shyly at you at the bar near the concert. You start to feel funny again, your head fuzzy, probably from the alcohol.

When you tell him, he’s all wide eyed concern.

You giggle. “Now I know why they call you Baby.” 

He huffs a little. 

He walks you outside just as he did before but this time he doesn’t hang back, and when you reach the alleyway, he places a hand on the swell of your hip as you take a few deep breaths of the night air.

You’re surprised, laugh a little until you look up into his eyes. You’d swear they looked red tinged again, but surely it’s just the beer.

“Not a baby,” he murmurs, moving closer, pressing you up against the brick with his body, and you hitch in a breath.

“No?” You ask, boldly trailing your finger along his collarbone through the black tshirt he’s wearing.

He shakes his head, leaned down close enough to your face that his nose brushes yours.

“Prove it,” you tease, and he makes this rumbling sound in the back of his throat that makes goosebumps break out across your flesh.

He leans down further, nips at your lower lip, and you moan, body surging forward toward his as if it was made to fit it. You’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but his tongue is in your mouth, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

You feel hot all over, dizzy in the most pleasant way, at least until he pulls away, gasping.

You whine, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever made before, when he’s not touching you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

He’s gone before you can even gasp out another whine of his name, and the moonlight on your skin burns instead of cools.

Jungkook tells this story in a burst to his bandmates the next day, hungover with his head pounding.

“You just left her there?” Jimin says, his face shocked, and Jungkook feels the wolf make a growl start at the back of his throat.

Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder and it turns into a whine instead. 

“I’ve never felt him that close, hyung. Right at the surface. I wanted to…”

Namjoon and Seokjin meet eyes above Jungkook’s lowered head.

Jimin catches it. Jimin catches everything, it’s one of the best and worst things about him.

“What? You think…” Jimin laughs. “No. She can’t be his.... She’s not a wolf, I would’ve smelled it when-”

Jungkook surges out of his seat, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “When what, Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes glow a pale violet as he snarls back, uncaring that Jungkook towers over him.

In the end, Namjoon and Seokjin have to separate them physically as they bark and snarl at each other.

Hoseok and Taehyung are missing, having holed up to ride out their ruts with their human mates instead of the house the seven share.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. “He’s definitely presenting as an alpha.”

“No shit,” Namjoon barks, unusually on edge. 

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung are the betas of the group, and until now there had only been a slight difference among the bandmates despite their different rankings.

Alpha pheromones were stronger and their senses were more heightened around rutting season, particularly for other mates. 

In the end, they have to completely change how they house themselves, with Jimin sharing a room with Yoongi, and Jungkook sharing with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says miserably, his wolf finally calmed as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not your fault,” Seokjin says, voice much less harsh than Namjoon’s had been earlier when he’d scolded him. “I saw Namjoon during this time, and it wasn’t easy.”

Jungkook looks up at the elder with wide eyes. “Really?”

Seokjin snorts and nods. “Yeah, around the full moon he was unbearable, snarling at everything.”

“I just didn’t want to scare her or...or hurt her...I wanted to put her against the wall and…” Jungkook trails off, embarrassed.

Seokjin only smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “That’s normal too, Baby. You wouldn’t have hurt her, especially if it’s what we think it is.”

“What...what does that mean?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Something you gotta work out on your own.”

Jungkook groans and flops down on the bed as Seokjin laughs, heading downstairs to make dinner while things are calm.

He has trouble sleeping again, but this time instead of wondering why, he knew, could almost feel the soft skin of your hip on his palm like it was still there, how you’d moaned into his mouth, whined for him.

Jungkook isn’t sure there’s a cold enough shower to help.

You can’t seem to sit still as the full moon nears, feeling like you might jump out of your skin. You can’t count the number of friends you’d called but no one seems up to going out. You bite your lip while looking at Jungkook’s contact on your phone screen.

If you think about it long enough, you can still feel the way he pressed against you, how the hair on the nape of your neck stood up when he nipped at your lip, how hot you’d felt, how wet…

You sigh and scroll up, seeing Jimin’s name instead. Jimin had been fun to be with the night you’d met, easy to talk to, less….intense. And he didn’t make you feel like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so you ask if he wants to meet up for a drink.

It’s late, by the time you decide, and the moon is out, waxing toward fullness. There’s only a tiny sliver remaining, big in the sky, and you can’t stop looking up at it as you walk to the bar near your house.

You’d chosen it because it’s close and not because it’s where hot drummer Jeon Jungkook, also known as Baby, had pressed you against an alley wall and made you almost…

Jimin jolts you out of your thoughts, calling your name and waving as you approach the door. He’s leaned against the doorjamb, giving you a smirk and you think now you understand why they call him Sly.

It makes you smile and again, you vibe well with him, you get along in the best way, conversation is easy and you don’t feel gooseflesh or your hair stand up when he brushes his fingers against yours.

Jimin knows he’s playing with fire when he replies to your text, but they don’t call him Sly for nothing, and you’re interesting, for a human. He’s only met one other female wolf, a tall and feisty woman with a sharp tongue and the most beautiful brown eyes, but she’d had a mate and well...things hadn’t ended well. 

Jungkook thinks of his wolf as this separate entity but Jimin disagrees, let’s his wolf do what it wants, so that all the bad things he feels have some kind of outlet. This was especially so after he’d lost his brown eyed wolf girl, so he invites you back to the house, knowing that Jungkook will be at the gym all night before the full moon tomorrow.

In fact, all of the others will be out, finding fun of their own, and why shouldn’t Jimin do the same? It isn’t as if Jungkook has marked you, or even can, since you’re human. 

Your eyes aren’t quite the same shade of hers, but he can pretend.

Jungkook works out until his muscles ache but nothing can shake this feeling he has, like something’s wrong. When he leaves the gym even the moon looks off, as if it’s dimmer than it should be, and something’s pulling him home, like this tug in his gut. It feels like it used to as a kid in his first foster home, when he’d get so anxious he’d climb onto the roof and stare up at it.

He’s almost running as he gets closer, feeling his skin prickle as he gets to the house, his wolf so close to the surface he can feel the fur that isn’t there yet standing up on the back of his neck.

He smells Jimin first, wrinkling his nose at the alpha pheromones, and when he walks upstairs it isn’t as if he decides to let the wolf take over, or struggles with it - it’s instant.

You’re standing in the hall, head tilted up, and Jimin is leaning against the wall, smiling down at you, and when you lean up to just softly brush your lips against Jimin’s, Jungkook’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest, and the wolf barks, loud and warning.

You turn, surprised, and Jungkook doesn’t think, doesn’t act, it’s all wolf. He grabs you by your waist, hefts you up over your shoulder, and begins to walk you to his room.

Jimin protests and Jungkook growls over his shoulder, daring him to try something. Later, Jungkook is glad his friend didn’t follow, because he isn’t sure that he could have held the wolf back.

You kick and yell and beat on his back and Jungkook doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s plopped you down on his bed, crawling toward you.

You kick him in the chest and it barely registers. You stand up and that’s when he snaps back to himself, at least to a degree.

"Don't leave. You can't leave." It's panicked, his voice, higher pitched almost like a whine.

"I can do whatever I want," you snap.

He makes this sound between a whine and a snarl and it's startling, strange, and you stop at the door.

"I know that! I know, but he doesn't!" 

"He..." you turn to look at him and he's trembling, head down, and you step closer, worried. "Baby, what do you mean?"

Jungkook just stands there, still trembling, until you reach out to touch his hair, gently. "He thinks he owns you, that you're his, that no one else can touch you." He explains, almost in a whisper.

"Who is he?" You ask slowly.

He raises his head slow and you gasp when you look into his eyes, instead of a warm brown this burnt amber, red hued.

"The wolf."

You stand there, blinking in surprise, for a long moment before actively telling your feet to move to the door. Unfortunately, your brain seems to have some kind of disconnect to your limbs, because you just step even closer, lean in and inhale along his neck, this scent of sweat and the iron of the weights he’d been lifting washing over you.

Rationally, you know that you should be shocked, horrified, even, that werewolves are real and you’re apparently standing in a house full of them but all you can do is run your tongue along the vein in his throat and Jungkook is trembling all over, whimpering like a puppy.

“Y/n, please, don’t-” he chokes out.

“Why not?” You murmur against his skin, the scent of him making your body react like you’ve never felt before. There’s this ache between your thighs that you’ve only felt a hint of before and you want more, nipping at his skin, unable to think clearly.

“He wants to...wants you,” Jungkook stutters, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching you.

“He does? Or you do?” You ask, lifting your head to pout at him, and Jungkook groans.

“Both,” he whispers hoarsely. 

“Then take me,” you say, and you don’t even know where the words came from. Your head feels light on your shoulders, dizzy with the scent of him, how his skin tastes under your tongue, and you do what he did to you the last night you’d seen him, nipping at his lower lip. Your canine pierces the skin and you taste iron on your tongue

Jungkook growls and lifts you again, this time with his hands under your ass and thighs and your legs wrap around him instantly. He all but throws you down on the bed, this time, and you whimper when he grips one of your thighs with his big hand, squeezing the flesh there.

“Mine,” he snarls, that high pitched whine at the end, and it makes you arch your back, claw your nails across his shoulders.

Jungkook leans down to sniff at your neck and growls again, wrinkling his nose and when you open your eyes he’s staring down at you with those red/amber eyes. 

You look back defiantly but you’re rolling your hips against his, you can feel him hard against your core and even though you’d never gone all the way with anyone before you want him inside you, can’t think of anything else.

“You smell like him,” he accuses, voice hoarse, and his wide eyes fade back to brown, just slightly, the color dilating around his pupils.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, feeling something like guilt, even though nothing had happened, really, and even it if it had…

He rubs his nose against your throat, covers you with his body like he’s replacing any of Jimin’s scent with his own. He licks against your neck, bites down on your skin, making you yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whines. “I’m sorry, I have to. You’re mine, I have to mark you, have to scent you anywhere he touched you,” he tries to explain, his hands skating down your ample curves.

“It’s okay,” you say, and somehow you mean it, you understand, the very thought of Jungkook smelling like anyone else makes your heart jump into your throat, something primal rise in your gut. “I know, baby.”

“You’re mine?” He says again, voice pitching up into a question just like when he’d introduced himself and it scares you, the way it makes your heart ache.

Instead of speaking you kiss him again, hard, moving your hands to his hair to get him closer. You had worn a skirt and halter out, it’s so warm even though it’s close to winter, your skin feeling so hot under the moonlight that you couldn’t wear much else.

Even as you kiss him he’s tearing at your clothes and you lean up to help him until you’re bare beneath him and panting, this whining noise coming from your throat that you can’t explain.

“God,” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I-”

“You haven’t...haven’t done this before?” Your eyes widen.

Jungkook realizes what you mean and he blushes a bit. “I’ve...yeah, I’ve done this before but not...not like this. I feel like...the wolf feels like...he’s been crazy. Since the first moment I saw you.”

“Like you’re gonna jump out of your skin? Always feeling...hot?” You ask.

Jungkook nods slowly, eyes widening.

“Me too,” you admit. “I don’t...I don’t know what it means. That’s why I came out with Jimin, I-”

Jungkook cuts you off with a choked whine. “It means you’re supposed to be mine.”

He snuffles against your neck again, hands at your hips, still holding back, trembling. “It means he never should have touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know you have nothing to apologize for. “I want you. I’ve never...I’ve never done this before but I want you so bad,” you admit, clutching at his tshirt, pulling it up until he gets on his knees and pulls it off, tossing it to the side. You spread your hands across his chest and he lets out a wrecked moan.

“You’re holding back,” you accuse.

He nods. “The wolf, he doesn’t….I don’t want to hurt you. Especially...fuck, no one’s touched you like this before?” His hands slide up and down your thighs as he stares down at your body, your breasts, the cleft of your cunt.

Jungkook knows that shouldn’t make him so hard, shouldn’t make his dick pulse in his sweats, shouldn’t make the wolf keen with pride. Mine mine mine, the first, the only is all his brain is chanting, he feels dizzy like he’s drank too much even though he hasn’t had a drop.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, but he can’t, can’t let the wolf out, he’s afraid he’ll rip you apart. You’re human and a virgin and he can’t risk hurting you.

The wolf won’t even let him say it, so he just shakes his head. 

You huff out a breath, your body aching all over, need making your arousal coat your thighs. You don’t know what you’re going to say until you say it.

“Should I ask Jimin to do it? I bet he can smell me,” you taunt, shocking yourself.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes bleeding to red again and one hand jolting out to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You know you should be cautious since you’re about to fuck an actual werewolf, but fuck, you’re so hot, you can’t think, you need something inside you and you drop your feet to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“Jimin would mark me. He’d fuck me, fill me full like I want.” 

Jungkook feels something in him snap, and his heart hurts and his cock aches and the wolf is keening, clawing inside him and he can’t control it anymore, just like before.

“Never,” he growls, squeezes his fingers around your throat and you gasp, your stomach aching with need.

Finally, finally he slides his fingers along your pussy and you choke out a sob as his thumb slips across your clit but it’s not enough.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “Make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he murmurs, and finally slides two fingers inside you, making you cry out. “You’re already mine but I’m gonna give you what you want, mark you, fuck you, make sure Park fucking Jimin never so much as sniffs at you again.”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yes, please, please.”

Jungkook still worries somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll hurt you, that the wolf will, and by now he understands they’re one and the same but you’re rolling your hips up and his cock feels heavy and full like he’s about to burst, somehow wider at the base and he rips down his sweats, fucking you with three fingers now. 

When his cock bounces against his stomach you gasp, and if you’d been in your right mind you might worry he’s too big but something inside you is crying out in pleasure just at the sight of it. You spread your legs wider and he releases your throat, leaning over to kiss you instead, biting your lip as he slowly works himself inside you.

It’s a tight fit even after three fingers and you’re whining into his mouth, wanting more.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, far from it although a little less experienced than some of his band members (Hoseok had once bragged about fucking a house of sorority sisters during a rut), but the way you clench around him has his hips twitching, wanting to buck into you even if it would split you open. 

Despite his worry, neither he or the wolf wants to hurt you, though, so he waits for you to adjust even as you beg, waits until you can take all of him.

He’s barely realized that he’s popped his knot until he looks down to see where you’ve joined and he groans. He knows how to do this, has been talked to (endlessly, by Taehyung, about his human girlfriend and how she desperately wants to take his knot and they’re working on it but it will take time and training), knows that you can’t take his knot but the wolf is howling for it, wants to fuck you hard and then pop it inside you, spill a littler into your womb.

You whine and pulse around him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Kookie,” you pout. “Baby. Want you inside me, fuck me harder, please-”

“I can’t-” he chokes out, but then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him deeper and the wolf growls, leans down, mine mine mine chanting in his head. My mate.

You felt a tiny pop when Jungkook first entered you, nothing painful and then just need, you want more and more and you don’t even know how to say it. You look up at him, near tears, needing something that you feel he won’t give you.

“I’m not yours yet,” you slur, and he looks pained, his eyes dilating from warm brown to amber red again and again.

He rocks his hips against you slow, and you’ve orgasmed twice already, once from his fingers and one from his cock but it’s not enough and you whine, it comes out almost inhuman, like his.

“Fill me up,” you urge, and Jungkook tries to hold the wolf back, he really does, but he’s too far gone, this close to the full moon and in the start of his first rut. 

Jungkook groans, fucks you harder and faster and when you cry out his name his balls draw up and he thrusts forward harder than he’d meant to, popping his knot inside you.

You make a surprised sound and his eyes pop open, his hands cupping your face even as his hips twitch as he cums, spills inside you.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry,” he mourns. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” he babbles, kissing along your neck and throat, seeing that he’d already marked you twice, once on each side of your throat, and he barely remembers it.

You let out a happy sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling finally sated, at least for the moment. “What are you sorry for, silly baby?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks, and you look up into his eyes and they’re heterochromatic, now, red hued amber and brown both.

“You’d never hurt me,” you mumble against his throat.

“Never,” he promises. “Never, I love you so much.” 

You’re half asleep, sated with him still inside you, planting soft kisses on your lips and face. You don’t know where you’d learned the word, but it feels right when you say it, right before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too, Alpha.”

It takes a while to understand, especially between Jungkook being barely able to leave his room since he’s in rut and you’re in heat, but eventually, you figure it out.

Your great grandmother had been an omega werewolf, and it’s a recessive gene so you’d been the lucky one to receive it. Since you had never shifted because your gene wasn’t activated by male wolves, you had no smell.

At least, not until the full moon, when you shifted into what Jungkook says is the prettiest wolf he’d ever seen.

After, when you’d near your heat, Jungkook would snap and snarl at the boys so much just for talking to you that it made you roll your eyes, but eventually you got the dates right (for the most part, there’d been one instance in which Jimin had made a snarky comment and Jungkook had lunged at him and they’d gone rolling down the stairs), and you holed up in your apartment, instead.

Jungkook was working with Seokjin to understand that the wolf is him instead of some seperate entity. You tell him you’ve always known that. From what you know now, if the wolf wasn’t, he would have taken you the very first night. True mates are rare, and you’d both known it the whole time, even when you hadn’t.

You and Jia went to every concert, her always telling you her neverending sexcapades with Hoseok to be able to take his knot, front row, waiting for your Alpha’s set. It’s cute, you think, that they call him Baby on stage but he’s your Alpha, especially since he’s both, always, to you.

[cdroloisms]

more of the ghost!dream au!! still no good names for it, sorry (feel free to give me recs? maybe?) - picking off right where we left off here [x]. i’ve gotten quite a bit of this pre-written already as well as quite a bit planned - it’s definitely one of my favorite universes at the minute and something im really excited to show yall !! 

tw: death, memory loss (?), grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy relationship, grief, emotional distress, implied torture/abuse, aftermath of prison arc/pandora’s vault, dark(ish?) portrayal of c!sam (he’s one of the main figures of this au lmao but it grapples quite a bit w/ what he did in pandora)

Sam had only met Ghostbur once.

He never knew the former president well, had been busy with his own base during the Revolution and came back to the server in chaos after an ill-fated election and the man exiled. It hadn’t mattered, much, at the time; Wilbur was an imposing man, even in others’ recollections of him, and their words left very very little to the imagination. From what he knew, Wilbur was a smart man, cunning and silver-tongued, brimming with an unending fountain of belief that he could change the world with his words and his words alone; the server, overrun with memories of scuffles and battles and wars and countries Sam had not been around to remember, only seemed to serve as proof that he could. The few glimpses of the man that he managed to catch showed dark, tired eyes, a figure that stood almost as tall as he did, lips twisted in a perpetual tight-lipped smile.

Even as he spiraled, unexplainably, whispers of madness chasing the wind and landing in choppy fragments in the Badlands meetings held over Skeppy and Bad’s dinner table, those eyes never became less piercing, never failed to seem like they were burning through whatever and whoever they looked at. Sam hadn’t been the subject of that stare many times, but he remembers the bone-deep anxiety from having those eyes on him, even now.

Ghostbur, somehow, was the complete opposite; where his eyes had once been all-too knowing, belying their owners’ intelligence, a ruthless penchant for analysis that would split bone from marrow with a single sharp-edged glance, the phantom’s eyes were completely vacant. Instead of the glossy whites and rings of brown that would flicker warm to cool and warm again without warning, there was only an empty, all-encompassing blue.

He had floated over to Sam following a particularly difficult- session, with the prisoner, greeting him with an airy call of his name as Sam set off to his base for the night. He’d startled, then, still fresh off the adrenaline that was sent coursing through his veins each time he entered those blackstone walls, and started a sort of easy, unfocused conversation as they went along the path to the nether portal.

Ghostbur was - off, for the lack of a better word, even with Sam’s lack of familiarity of either side of the man - who he’d been before and what he’d become. His memories slipped through his mind like water seeping through fingers, and his attention span didn’t seem much better. Still, Sam listened to that echoing, otherworldly voice, nodded along as he eagerly recounted his day - or what he could recall from it, at least, until his feet had brought him along the same well-worn path to the nether portal, spitting purple sparks into the night.

“I’ll have to be going, Ghostbur,” he’d said through a thin smile, muscles aching under netherite as he pulled his shoulders back. The ghost’s head had cocked to the side, watching him with empty eyes, hands outstretched in front of him, palms up.

“Sam-” the ghost blinked slowly, “Are you sad?”

Sam froze. Ghostbur stared at him, face still kept in that same blank expression, eyes still an endless blanket of blue, but something - in his stance, perhaps, in the echoes of his words as they reverberated off of nothing, felt familiar, felt like looking up expecting a window and coming face to face with a shattered mirror - before the phantom’s face broke out in a weightless smile.

“Have some blue!”

The blue was dropped unceremoniously into his hands as he fumbled the catch and nearly let it fall to the ground; the clear, glassy surface of it tainted blue by his fingertips, the color swirling and darkening in his hands. He watched it, mesmerized, as blossoms of blue bloomed beneath his skin; his feelings, sharp-edged, became sea glass tossed in its shifting waves, smoothed, numbed, slowly sucked away in a pulsing chorus of blue blue blue-

“That’s quite a lot of blue,” Ghostbur chirped, and Sam blinked at the thing in his hands - navy, the same color as the sky above their heads clinging to the last remnants of twilight - “Would you like some more?”

“...no thanks, Ghostbur,” Sam looked back up, feeling through the new, blue-tinged fog in his brain, memories blurred at the edges but lacking the same burning sting of regret, “Good night.”

“Good night, Sam!” Wilbur smiled, blank blue eyes trained on his face even as Sam stepped into the portal and the world swirled away. “See you soon!”

---

“Sammy,” Dream walked - no, floated, forwards as Sam took a step back, unresponsive, “is there something wrong?”

Sam swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

He was a spitting image to Dream as he first knew him; the same tousled hair, freckled face, down to the ratty old jacket that he’d insisted on wearing at all times, made of a garish shade of lime-green and covered in customized patches that Bad - unable to resist his puppy eyes - had always ended up fixing the thing with. He had a gap in his teeth that had left him with a lisp for weeks back then, prompting Sapnap’s teasing much to Dream’s annoyance; his head tipped to the side, curious, familiar, and something deep inside Sam’s chest ached.

“Dream-” he tried, chest tightening further when the ghost’s face broke out into a brilliant smile, “why are you here?”

Why do you remember me?

He hadn’t talked to Ghostbur much, but he’d heard, to some degree, about how the ghost operated, how his memories were inconsistent at best, seemingly dependent on the emotions he’d attached to them while alive. How he went through the world in a state of unshakable bliss at the cost of his mind. Dream’s memories of him should’ve been anything but happy; why was he here?

“What do you mean?” Dream blinked at him, eyebrows scrunched, lips set in a small frown. His eyes, black and vacant, seemed to swallow all light, even with the sun streaming through the branches. “Where am I suppos’d to go?”

“Don’t you want to be with George and Sapnap?”

Dream’s face was blank, and the pit in Sam’s gut grew deeper. “Who’s that?”

“George?” Sam could feel his voice begin to tremble, eyes widening. “Sapnap? You know them, right?”

“No?” Dream drew out the word, looking at him like he’d grown another head. “Should I know them?”

“Should you- Dream, this isn’t funny- they’re your best friends! They were your best friends- Pandas? Do you know Pandas?”

“You mean like in the jungles? I haven’t been in a jungle before, Sam, d’you think we could visit one?”

“No- Pandas, do you-” Dream only looked at him with the same confused, uncomprehending expression, not even a flicker of recognition in his face; Sam could hear his heart thudding in his ears, a distant horror growing and wrapping around his throat, “How about Ponk? Alyssa? Calla? Bad?”

Each name did nothing to change the blankness on Dream’s face, the screaming thoughts in Sam’s head growing to a fever pitch when the ghost in front of him shook his head, hair whipping back and forth.

“Nope!” His hands tugged at his hoodie sleeves, the movement familiar in a way that had echoes of long-forgotten memories drifting to the surface, holding his heart in a chokehold and squeezing tight. “Are they your friends?”

“Dream,” he stepped forward - felt a shadow of a pickaxe held in his fists, the shape of the name in his mouth bringing forth the taste of iron and smoke and painting the inside of his eyelids red - and stopped in his tracks. The images melted away, left just a kid standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on nothing, and Sam was going to be sick.

“Who do you remember?”

Dream smiled as the question registered, directing a look of such open, unadulterated adoration his way that it stole all of the air from Sam’s lungs.

“You, dummy!” He laughed, airy and light. “Who else?”

---

He brought him to his base, because what else was he supposed to do?

Dream skipped behind him, entirely enamoured with Fran; he watched as she melted under his enthusiastic scratches at the tufts of fur at her neck. He’d always been a soft touch with animals, had brought home stray mobs more than a few times as a kid; Sam swallowed around his unease and trudged forward.

“Puppy!” He nearly screeched with laughter, and Sam looked back to see Dream with his arms wrapped around Fran’s neck, face buried in her fur as giggles made his shoulders shake. Fran gave him a sloppy lick on the cheek, making him break out into a new round of high-pitched wheezes, “Good girl! Good puppy!”

“Hurry up, Dream,” Sam turned away. “We don’t have all day.”

“Oh- m’sorry,” Dream’s voice quieted, almost seemed to wobble, and Sam bit down on his tongue as they continued to walk back. He- didn’t know what to do, not with this version of Dream, not the little kid he’d half-forgotten instead of the masked monster he’d become so accustomed to. It was so much easier to slip into the mask, let his voice drop cold and deep and empty, the role of the Warden heavy and comfortable like a set of netherite armor. He pointedly kept his eyes staring forward, looking for the edge of the forest they’d ended up stuck in so he could finally see.

A sudden, yipping bark came from behind, thoroughly startling him and sending a sword appearing in a flash of white. He huffed at Fran, looking at him with faux innocent eyes, really?

Unfortunately, both she and Dream had somehow fallen ridiculously behind, the ghost having lowered to the ground at some point as Fran sat and wagged her tail. He rolled his eyes, making his way back towards the duo, feeling irritation press in the form of a headache against the front of his skull.

“Come on,” he muttered, wincing at how clipped his words sounded, even in his own ears. Not the same Dream, Sam. You’re not in the prison anymore. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes narrowing as he came closer; Dream hadn’t just stopped because of some distraction, as he first assumed. The kid was leaning against Fran, hands twisted loosely in her fur, head tipped forward and leaning against her body.

“Dream?”

The ghost looked up at his voice, one hand going to rub at his eye. His hair seemed to be moving around less than earlier, lips twisted in a small frown.

“M’sleepy, Sammy,” he mumbled around a yawn, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He reached both hands up, palms facing the sky, as he stared expectantly. “Up.”

Aren’t you a little big to be carried? The retort came to mind as easily as breathing, echoed in his own head by his own voice, younger, exasperated but fond. His arms shook with the memory of a kid wrapping his arms around his neck and fumbling with his crown, with the feeling of a dead weight resting against the crook of his elbows, tall and lanky and far too light for its size, held in his arms one final time-

“Please?”

Sam shook his head.

“We’re walking to my base. Come on.”

[starlightshadowsworld]

Give me... (Cinder Fall edition)

Been writing these on RWBY Amino (ShadowQueenAnime) , basically me saying what I'd like to have seen in Canon from different characters. And thought why not post them here 2?

This is my Cinder one (felt appropriate) based on my own headcannons.

Give me Cinder, who did odd jobs to help her family. Who's first strive for power wasn't out of greed, but because the strong are untouchable and if Cinder wanted anything it was for all of them to be safe.

Give me Cinder, who's mother kissed her head and wiped the dirt from her cheeks. A widowed housekeeper for a rich family living in their grimey basement. She takes Cinder to a shrine and tells stories of a woman, their saviour she tells her young girl. A woman locked away who reached ultimate power. It's Cinder's favourite story and that makes her mother smile.

Give me Cinder, who bites her toungue and bowed her head to the Atlas huntsman who laughed and taunted her. One day she promises she'll be the one laughing, her mother chuckles and brushes her hair but doesn't object. She's always had high hopes for her little girl.

Give me Cinder, who grabs a boys hand from where it reached into her pocket and tosses him to the ground. He screams for mercy and she let's him go, he's an orphan as is the younger girl clinging to his leg. Roman and Neo, something about them make Cinder smile.

Give me Cinder, who becomes friends with both of them. Who laughs and pickpockets rich folk and scoffs when Roman calls her a professional. That's what he's gonna be, no doubt about it and Neo will stick by him but Cinder's not sure what she wants to be. She wants to be more than a petty theif.

Give me Cinder, who gifts Roman his trademark hat. Her mother sewed it and she sighed her name inside, the stitching isn't the best but it's shiny and new. Every good theif needs a cool hat and Roman says he'll never take it off. He tackles her into a hug and she pushes him off.

Give me Cinder, who gets into an argument with with the duo. It escalates to the point none of them remember the reason, insults are thrown that sting like ice and they part ways. Cinder feels terrible and wants to apologise, beg for forgiveness but a nasty part of her shuts her up, she'll only apologise if they do first.

Give me Cinder, who spends her days cleaning, selling glass when her mother falls ill. She saves up for medicine and takes care of her, doing anything and everything but it's not enough. Cinder's never felt more powerless in her life, she's scared alone crying by the shrine and begging the saviour for help.

Give me Cinder, who promises to do anything the woman wants to save her mother and doesn't see the smirk underneath. She hugs her mother who's sickness is treated and thanks the woman over and over. But the woman had a price and Cinder has little choice, her mother hugs her tight and kisses her head as her daughter vanishes.

Give me Cinder, who joins Salem out of protecting her mother. Who Salem entices and makes sure to grow her lust for power. She'll be worthy one day, she thinks as tells Cinder a new story. The story of the maidens.

Give me Cinder, who continues to grow under Salem's care and the darkness inside her grows as well. She gets sent out on tasks to test her loyalty and follow Salem's orders and if she fails well Cinder's seen Salem's magic first hand.

Give me Cinder, who goes to the mob to get them to help her get dust and is reunited with Roman and Neo. Neo tackles her to the ground before rapidly signing what they've been up too and Roman laughs, no malice is in the air as if their past encounter never happened. They've all grown up and their paths are once again intertwined. "I see your still wearing the hat, surprised it can fit your giant head."

Give me Cinder, who's found some light in her life but is still under Salem's thumb. She always had a quick temper but she's more darker than before, and there's bruising and scars covering her body. Roman and Neo can never get through to her than maybe being with Salem isn't the best choice but Cinder's in too deep.

Give me Cinder, who looks Amber on the eye as she takes the rest of her power. How the exhilaration of her new power wears off in seconds when the situation hits her. She's killed someone... Without remorse and for what... Salem brands her name Cinder Fall and she hates and loves how it fits. Roman is at her side, Neo not far behind as she sobs the loss of life into their arms.

Give me Cinder, who murdered Ozpin out of fear more than anything else. How she whispered an apology that would never be heard and ran away, because as strong as he was she was never afraid of him. Knowing he'd come back comforts her a bit but she pushes the thought aside.

Give me Cinder, who does care for Mercury and Emerald but she doesn't love them. She cares when they get hurt, applauds them for their achievements but that's all. She hates how Emerald looks at her with adoration, it doesn't make her happy to know she simply picked them up as tools for her goals. She hasn't realised yet that those goals aren't her's.

Give me Cinder, who watches Beacon fall apart and knows its her doing. A nasty part of her is laughing and she's starting to get afraid of it, she wonders what her mother thinks... If she even saw all this. She hears a different voice to her own and thinks she's losing it Salem chuckles and ruffles her hair in a way that once felt find but now it puts her on edge.

Give me Cinder, who argues with Roman who tells her she should get away Salem. She's changed, she's hurting and she's his friend and all he wants is to help her. But she's afraid, she's in too deep and that turns into rage... Until he gets swallowed by a grimm that's promptly destroyed. There's nothing of him that remains, and nothing hurts more. It's all her fault.

Give me Cinder, who's arm and eye are destroyed and she's repaired with grimm. She's strong, makes her arm respect her and tries not to think about how it feels so wrong. Roman's gone, the last thing she ever said was that she hated him and that makes her arm coil around her neck. She forces herself to push down the feelings so she's let go but the tears keep coming. Pyrrha is the voice in her head helping her calm down and she appreciates it but Cinder remarks that she wished the other hated her.

Give me, Cinder who buries her grief and directs all her negative feelings at Ruby. She can't feel pain, can't feel sadness or her grimm arm will attack her for her weakness. She ignores Pyrrha who reprimands her for calling her pain a weakness. She can't handle it, slowly losing her grip on reality and almost snaps back at Salem... Almost.

Give me, Cinder at Heavan who taunts Jaune and makes him attack her. Because she's starting to see just how much of a monster she is, Salem will never let her go...that she's certain. But if she were to fall in battle... And if not it'll get Pyrrha to stop being so kind. She throws a spear at Weiss, but something inside her makes her aim hit her side rather than her chest. Cinder blames Pyrrha but it wasn't her, her grimm arm twitches but stays still for now.

Give me Cinder, who pulls herself up from the icy depths of the water, cursing her existence and crumbling to the ground. Not even her power works and she really wishes that she had just drowned. She's stopped ignoring Pyrrha, she's stuck with her and it's her fault anyway... That and a selfish part of her craves the comfort, the other sets her back onto her feet and Cinder smiles sadly as she steals some clothes from a nearby market...she did afterall learn from the best.

Give me Cinder, who drinks at a nearby bar and hears news about team RWBY. She wonders if there's any point in hunting them, but she knows Salem well enough to know the other knows she isn't gone. Finding them, getting the relic might get her back in her good graces... The idea doesn't tempt her anymore, she sought power and it got her here... Lost in grief with a grimm arm and a missing eye , a run away with no home and sat hiding in a shady bar.

Give me Cinder, who reunites with Neo and freezes at the sight of her hat... His hat. Somehow Neo doesn't blame her and that makes her mad, she taunts her with every insult under the sun because she has to be mad... She has to fight her... Neo simply holds her as she breaks down. Everything feels too much and she just wants to be alone but Neo gives a look that says she ain't going anyway.

Give me Cinder, who makes a half hearted plan to get the relic because if she finds out how to defeat Salem... The thought makes her tingle, afraid but determined and Neo holds back a chuckle, somehow Cinder looks years younger when the trio first met.

Give me Cinder Fall who was moulded into a tool and is falling apart from all the pain.

Give me Cinder Fall who has a backstory that explains how she became this way. Give her motivation, how she wanted to help her mother and a cunning witch answered the call.

Give me Cinder Fall who is worth being a villian (not saying she isn't I just gotta end this dramatically) , tragic or otherwise.

This our Cinder Fall.

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 4/?

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Summary: After the death of one of her best friends, Y/N’s feud with Murphy gets out of hand and Charlotte betrays her.

Warnings: death, violence, gore, swearing, hanging, suicidal thoughts, suicide

Notes: buckle in, because this is a rough chapter, my dudes. Based on 1x04 “Murphy’s Law”

Wells was dead.

She had done nothing but ignore him since they landed on the ground, and now he was dead. Gone. Forever.

She would never get to see him again.

Never get to play chess with him again.

She couldn’t even remember the last thing she had said to him. 

She couldn’t even feel the grief that ran through her body. She was numb, sprinkling dirt on the mound that represented his burial site. 

The mound that represented all seventeen years of his life.

“May we meet again.” Y/N whispered, a small tear streaking down her grimy face. She stood up, turning around to see Bellamy standing there, arms crossed, his gaze soft.

“I’m sorry” He murmured, trying to reach out to her.

Y/N swallowed, gulping down her grief into her gut, pushing past the soldier and heading for the dropship, a head of blonde hair collapsing into her shoulder before she could enter. She wrapped her arms around Clarke’s mourning figure, the two girls silent as their emotions transferred over to each other, relishing in the comfort they gave each other.

“It wasn’t him” She whispered, pulling away and wiping the tears from her face. “Wells didn’t turn us in. My mom did.”

Her heart continued to rip, the numbness spreading further as Y/N offered her sympathies, “Clarke, I’m so sorry.”

The girl bit her lip, her voice thick with anger, “My own mother killed my father. How does someone do that?”

Y/N knew exactly how. “They see no other choice.”

“There’s always another choice.” Clarke’s anger radiated from her, mixing with grief over losing her best friend. She held her head high as she walked away, encouraging the others to continue building the wall. Y/N threw a look around, watching as the camp began to devolve into chaos. Octavia mostly sat with her thoughts, sharpening the makeshift weapons, while Murphy continued his tyrannical reign, abusing Connor as he struggled to lift a log. 

Y/N exhaled, resigning to her circumstances as she joined Monty in the dropship, helping create a form of interspacial morse code. 

She picked apart Octavia’s fried wristband, examining for any components that could help the two of them. 

“Y/N” Monty called, stretching his way across the workbench, “Can you hand me those tacks?”

“Yeah” she responded, leaving her tools at her work station as she went to meet Monty’s demand, handing him the small bolts leftover from the crash. “How are you doing?” She asked, hovering as she watched him push the small tack through the hole he had created, trying to forget about the events of the morning.

“I should be asking you that question.” Monty responded, “But I’m doing okay, would be better if I could find some way to keep the bracelets alive for longer than five seconds.”

Y/N chuckled, the first smile that day. “I’ll keep checking my book and Octavia’s bracelet for anything we need. I’d love it if we could find some kind of solar transmitter.”

“On the ground where the biggest technology is spears?” Monty brought up, twiddling with Clarke’s freshly removed wristband, “Not likely.”

Another chuckle escaped her, turning around as she heard boots clang against the metal floor, meeting Bellamy’s cold gaze. The stoic leader was back. “How’s the radio coming?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“It’s coming.” Y/N responded coldly, crossing her arms. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with him right now. “What did you need?”

“You” He spoke, catching her off guard. She stumbled backward at the news. “Jasper and Octavia found something, they wanna brief us in Clarke’s tent.”

Y/N nodded, grasping her jacket and slipping her arms through it as she passed Bellamy. 

“Franco, wait--” He called, running after her so they were walking side by side. 

“What do you want Blake?” She returned the favor, since he refused to call her by her first name. At this point, she’d honestly prefer the nickname, but he hadn’t used that since their fiasco in the cave.

“I wanted to say sorry” That stopped her in her tracks, his big brown eyes softening as he gazed down at her, fiddling with his thumbs. “For the cave, for Wells. For everything really.”

Warmth stirred in her chest, the gesture meaning more than she expected it to. Her stomach flopped, the hairs on the back of her neck stirring.

“Thanks” She choked out before heading into Clarke’s tent where Octavia and Jasper stood holding a knife.

Clarke’s eyes flickered as Y/N entered the room, grief still present in both girls as she examined the silver and yellow weapon.

“This knife..” Clarke realized, her blue eyes widening. “It was made of material from the dropship.”

“And that means?”

Y/N inhaled, insides threatening to collapse. “Someone in the camp killed Wells.” There was a traitor among them. A killer. 

They had been sent down with a murderer unafraid of the consequences.

“We need to keep this quiet,” Bellamy responded.

“Why?” anger laced Y/N’s voice, something dark swirling in her chest at the thought of Wells’ killer going unpunished. 

“So we’re just going to let a killer walk among us? Without punishment?” Clarke echoed Y/N’s sentiment, desiring the same thing she was.

Bellamy stared at the two women, eyes growing wide in fear as he caught the madness stirring behind both of their eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying Clarke,” He defended, “Believe it or not, letting the others think the grounders killed Wells is good for us. The fear of grounders is building that wall. It’s keeping us safe.” He let out a sigh, “besides there’s no way  we can even tell who did it.”

“I can” Clarke bragged, holding the knife at an angle so the initials carved into them shone in the natural light. 

JM. John Murphy.

“The people have a right to know.”

Clarke pushed past Bellamy’s protests, straight toward Murphy, brandishing his knife, accusing him of killing Wells. Y/N shot a look at Bellamy before following after her, desperate to gain some kind of closure for her friend.

“I didn’t kill Wells, the grounders did.” Murphy protested, trademark sneer written all across his face. 

“Liar” Y/N called, unable to stop the visceral reaction pouring out of her. “You’ve hated him since he first stepped foot in this camp.”

“Yeah, a lot of people did Franco,” Murphy continued, defiance written across his face.

Octavia spoke up in her defense, “He tried to kill Jasper too!”

“What?” the younger kid traded a stare with Y/N, who shrugged before Jasper gulped down his nerves and faced his almost killer.

Murphy scoffed. “I don’t have to answer to any of you.” He spun to face the rest of the group, “I don’t have to answer to anyone!”

“Come again?” Bellamy asked, crossing his arms. Murphy met his gaze and a fearful look crossed his face. The first time any of them had seen Murphy so anxious since walking into this camp.

“Bellamy, please, you have to believe that I didn’t do this.”

Y/N watched as Bellamy refused to submit, uncertainty flashing in his eyes as he let out an exhale. 

“Do you all want to live in a society with no rules?” Clarke asked, pleading to the people’s ethos, “Where people can kill without consequences? Where the guilty can go unpunished?”

“I say we float him!” Connor called, murder in his eyes. 

Y/N moved forward, “We are not the Ark.” She reminded him. Even if Murphy did kill Wells that didn’t mean they had the right to choose who lived and who died.

“It’s justice!” he called, rallying the crowd behind him.

“It's not justice it’s vengeance!” Clarke announced.

By the time she voiced her protest, the crowd was already atop Murphy and Y/N became a bystander, breath hitching, chest heaving as they dragged his body through the mud, his face unrecognizable. 

The numbness persisted, only replaced by anger as she imagined Murphy’s hands on Wells’ throat, the blood pouring over his hands while he sneered, Wells taking his last breath with Murphy’s victorious face looming over him. Suddenly, she couldn’t find a shred of sympathy remaining in her. 

Her eyes met Murphy’s helpless ones, darkness spreading through her as the noose tightened.

“Bellamy should do it!” Connor called, ushering the leader forward, the crowd chanting his name, Clarke trying to appeal to the softer part of him. His gaze locked with Y/N’s. He was waiting for her approval.

She nodded, the same thought existing in their mind.

Attachment is death.

He turned around to face the accused, rushing forward and pushing the crate from underneath his feet. No hesitation. No attachment. 

They would survive.

“What the hell are you doing?” Finn called from the treeline, moving forward to cut the rope, stopped by the mob underneath them. The madness continued, camp devolving until there was nothing but anarchy left in its wake. 

He deserved this, she told herself. 

He killed Wells.

He tried to kill Jasper.

He wanted to kill her.

“Stop it!” A small voice called, pulling her from her thoughts. A voice she recognized. “Murphy didn’t kill Wells!” 

The crowd went silent. 

“I did” Charlotte’s confession hung in the air, the pointed edge of the emotional dagger slipping deeper into Y/N’s heart as she struggled to look at this girl--this killer, with the same eyes she did only days before. 

Bellamy brought her into the tent, asking the question on everyone’s mind. “Charlotte, how could you do this?”

“I was just slaying my demons, like you told me.” She defended. 

Y/N spun to face Bellamy. What had he told her? What had happened in that cave while she was asleep? What could he have said to make her a murderer?

“She misunderstood” Bellamy explained, breath quickening. “Charlotte that is not what I meant.”

The girl shook where she stood. “Please don’t let them kill me.”

“We won’t,” Clarke promised, underlying anger lacing her voice, “But you need to understand. You killed someone Charlotte! Ended his life!” Charlotte met Y/N’s gaze, pleading with the woman she had grown so close to. “Please.”

“I told you to talk to someone!” Y/N scolded, disbelief coursing through her, “I told you Wells was there for you and instead you killed him!” She shook her head, stepping away from the younger girl, “This is your mistake Charlotte. You have to deal with the consequences.”

“Charlotte!” Murphy’s voice rang out, “Come on out here! I just wanna talk.”

Bullshit, Y/N rolled her eyes, storming out with Bellamy to face the tyrant, their presence comforting each other as a smirk drew itself on Murphy’s face. 

Even if Charlotte had killed Wells, did that mean she deserved to die? Murphy did, she knew. But Charlotte was twelve, a child. Couldn’t they offer her mercy?

“Looks like the king and queen have decided to grace us with their presence,” Murphy quipped sarcastically, “I hope you’re not expecting me to bow down.”

“Go float yourself, Murphy” Y/N shot back, anger fading to the familiar emptiness she had been feeling all day. 

“You already did that, remember?” His sneer was gone, replaced by the darkness Y/N had seen earlier. “Who’s gonna hang me this time?”

“I was just giving the people what they want” Bellamy justified, his own words tasting like ash in his mouth. 

Murphy chuckled darkly. “Right, let’s see what the people want then.” He turned around, facing the group as he yelled out, “Who wants to see the real Murderer Hang?!”

Silence. 

He chuckled again, “I see, so all of you are ready to string up me for nothing? But when this bitch confesses, you want to let her free?”

The fight that broke out hit Y/N by surprise. She brandished her knife, swiping at the people who approached her, her hand reaching around before lodging the blade deep into one of Murphy’s cronies, pulling the weapon from his thigh as he screamed, collapsing to the ground. 

Her foot slammed into his face, knocking him out cold. 

“Bellamy?” She asked worried, shaking the leader until he woke, promising her that they were going after Charlotte. His eyes fluttered open and Octavia helped pull him to his feet and Bellamy turned toward Y/N’s worrying figure. 

“We’ll go after her,” He told her, “I promise.”

She nodded and the two grasped their pack, following Murphy’s tracks deep into the forest.

The trees offered no comfort this time, knowing Murphy was using it as cover from the others, and Charlotte was trapped with Clarke and Finn somewhere they couldn’t find her.

She had done this.

She had blown up at the girl.

She had hanged Murphy.

“Hey,” Bellamy grasped her arm bringing Y/N back to reality, “We’ll find her. She’ll be okay.”

She nodded, her response cut off by a scream.

They sprinted.

By the time they found Charlotte again, the girl was feeling self-sacrificial and Murphy had found them.

“MURPHY!” Charlotte yelled over Bellamy’s shoulder, “I’m here!”

Y/N gave an apprehensive look back, “He’s gaining” She warned, picking up the pace.

They broke through the tree line, the threesome skidding to a stop before the edge of a cliff, the ravine stretching into the depths below. Her chest heaved up and down and she twirled her knife in her hand, spinning around as Murphy broke into the clearing.

“Give me the girl Bellamy,” Murphy ordered, a sick smile across his face.

Y/N stepped forward, placing herself between the two men, ready to protect Bellamy and Charlotte from his wrath. “She’s a child.”

Murphy's eyes flashed red, “So was I.”

In a flash his arm was around her neck, the sharp blade of the knife held against her throat. The trees rustled, Clarke and Finn breaking through, horror widening their eyes as they gazed upon the scene in front of them. 

“Hand over the girl, or Sparky here dies.” He gestured toward her, the knife digging further. 

“No!” Charlotte called, sobs awakening, “Please don’t hurt her.”

Bellamy scanned the situation before him, grip still tight on Charlotte’s arm. Clarke stepped forward. 

“Murphy, come on, we can talk this through” She pleaded, not wanting to lose another one of her friends. 

“I’m done hearing you talk.” He tightened his grip, knife breaking through the layer of skin, “Ten seconds.”

“Bellamy don’t!” Y/N called desperately, clawing at her throat.

“Ten” Murphy threatened. 

Bellamy’s pulse quickened, breathing shallow as he began to loosen his grip. He couldn’t lose her too. Not now. 

“Nine.”

“I’m not worth it.” Y/N choked out, her windpipe close to getting crushed.

“Eight.”

“Please don’t!” Charlotte pleaded, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry, please I’ll come with you just let her go!”

“No!” Y/N urged, “Charlotte don’t. It’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll be okay.” 

The little girl shook her head, tears streaming down her face as Murphy continued the countdown.

“Seven.”

Charlotte paused, “I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.”

“Six”

A breath.

“Five”

A beat.

“Four”

Charlotte ripped herself from Bellamy’s arms, throwing herself off the edge of the cliff, body plummeting into the ravine below. Murphy released Y/N in surprise. 

“NO!” Bellamy called down as Y/N fell beside him, staring down into the abyss.

“Charlotte!” Y/N called down, grief shooting her through the chest, cutting through her endless numbness and setting her body aflame. 

Her mom. Atom. Wells. Charlotte. 

She was a bomb, lying in wait until someone came too close and then...boom.

Clarke sobbed beside her, Bellamy staring down in shock. 

Her mouth grew slack, eyes unable to tear themselves away from the ravine until Bellamy stood, the sound of skin against skin pulling her upward. The soldier was atop Murphy, his fists pummeling into the delinquent's face, his screams ringing through the air. 

“Bellamy stop!” Y/N called, reaching out.

Finn reached him first, pulling the older boy off of Murphy, “You’ll kill him.”

“He deserves to die!” Bellamy raged, anger ablaze in his eyes, face alight with an untapped rage that Y/N had never seen.

“No!” Clarke reprimanded, “We don’t decide who lives and dies. Not down here!”

“I swear to god if you say the people--”

“No” Clarke shook her head, “I was wrong. But we need rules! We can’t just live by whatever the hell we want.”

Bellamy snarled, “Oh yeah, and who makes those rules? You?” He threw a pointed look their way. 

“From now on we will.” Y/N offered, calmly stepping forward. “All three of us.”

“So what?” Bellamy asked, still seething, “We just let him back into camp? After everything he’s done?”

“No--” 

“Then what?!”

Y/N stared at Murphy, bloodied and covered in mud, barely able to stand. “We banish him.” She replied, catching the arguing leaders by surprise. 

“And if he refuses to leave?” Bellamy’s pessimistic attitude was really starting to get to her again.

“Then we kill him.” Clarke offered, sending a cold look toward Murphy. Bellamy sniffed, his eyes latching onto the fresh cut on Y/N’s neck, the newly drawn blood sending him flying toward Murphy, dragging him by the collar to the edge of the ravine. 

“I see you anywhere near here, and you’re dead.” He snarled, pressing his knife deep into his neck before throwing him headfirst into the ground, storming away. 

Y/N shot a pitiful look his way, throwing her blunt knife to the ground, giving him more than one weapon. 

His hoarse voice called after her, “You’re not like us. I saw your blood, you can’t hide your secret forever.”

She leaned down, hand squeezing a clump of his hair as she responded darkly, “I’ve kept this safe for eighteen years. If I get any ideas about you even thinking about breaking that streak, then I’ll hang you myself.”

She pushed his face deep into the mud, striding back to camp.

***

“You wanna do the honors?” Monty asked the newly recovered Jasper, a smile on both of their faces. The radio was finished. The would soon be able to contact the Ark. Some good had come out of this day after all. Y/N watched eagerly as Jasper plugged the cord into the port.

The device sparked, drawing electricity as the wristband fell dark. 

A jolt of pain distracted her and she watched as her wristband clanged against the metal of the dropship. 

Dark.

She leaned down, hands gingerly clenching the silver device, blocking out all sound as she retreated into her tent, the wind howling outside. What was she going to do now? Her family was up there. Her friends were up there. How many of them would follow down if they thought she was dead?

Her hand ran itself through her hair, a visceral scream exiting her mouth as she threw the useless piece of metal against the ground, hanging her head in her hands. It didn’t matter anymore. Her survival didn’t matter anymore.

She should’ve let Murphy kill her back there. What else did she have to live for?

Saltwater burned her skin as the tears fell.

The dam was broken. Her wall was being torn apart piece by piece. 

“Hey Franco, Miller’s--” Bellamy stopped when he saw the state she was in, “--looking for you.”

Y/N turned away, trying to wipe away the tears as they came. “Go away Bellamy” She requested, not wanting to see anyone at all. 

He didn’t move, hesitating instead. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.” He advised, settling in next to her. “No one expects you to.”

She laughed mirthlessly, “Everyone expects me to.” She breathed, voice hoarse, “It’s why I wanted Murphy to kill me back by the cliff.”

Whoops, there it was. Her secret was out. 

“I’m a ticking time bomb ready to go off at any minute” She explained, the numbness returning as she stared ahead. “People would be better off if I just...disappeared.”

Bellamy gulped, “That’s not true. You had the option to float yourself and you didn’t” He reminded her, catching the engineer by surprise, “You chose Earth. Something in you wants to live Franco, and it’s time you listened to it.”

She smiled at the encouraging speech, the newfound warmth pushing back the emptiness as she watched Bellamy stand, his hand lingering on her shoulder before making his exit. 

Her wall crumbled.

We getting some quality time! The pairing is coming together my people.

Please like, comment, and reblog!

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[flamebearrel]

What Puts the “Fun” in “Fun Dead”? Chapter Seven

Fandom: Eddsworld

Synopsis: What started out with a simple shopping trip on a snow day ends up with the latest zombie apocalypse. Unfortunately, Mark doesn’t realize until he’s right in the middle of it. Oh, well. Looks like no one else has noticed, either. He’ll just have to give them a few reminders.

Word Count: 980

Original Post Date: Early 2018

Characters: Mark, Fun Dead Kid (here named Charlie) (Minor unnamed characters that are intended to be Patryck, Paul and Yanov)

Ships: None

Trigger Warnings: Grief, Arguments, Zombies, Fighting, Guns, Blood, Biting (Will be added to a bit in later chapters)

Other Notes: Based off the events of the episodes “The Snogre” and “Fun Dead”; intended to take place within canon; discusses meta concepts; the neighbors and the main three are friendlier with each other now; each chapter has a picture to go along with it; headcanon names

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter

Final Chapter

~~~

He didn’t know how long he was in there. In fact, Mark didn’t know how he got there at all. The only thing he knew was that he had somehow wormed his way into an unoccupied storage room, gotten down on the floor and was now lying in a puddle of his own utter grief.

All his anguish had drained away a while ago, leaving him with nothing but a melancholy acceptance of the truth. Apparently all his efforts weren’t enough. Now the last people he cared about were gone.

That was it. Mark stood up and limped toward the exit, thinking, Might as well stick my head into a zombie’s mouth and tell him, “Bon appétit.”

But before he could even reach the door's handle a voice sounded just outside. “Hey, Mister Marcus? That you in there?”

“Charlie?” Mark opened the door just enough to peep out. “How did you find me?”

“I could hear your sobbing loud and clear, sir.”

Face flushing a little, the blond allowed his young friend inside. Charlie continued, “Did you find your friends yet? I think I know a way out.”

Curiosity peaked in him for a moment, but Mark quickly lost it with the reminder of his neighbors. “No, I think-... I think you should go on without me,” he muttered.

“And why would I do that?”

“I... don’t really see a point, not anymore. They’re- they’re gone.”

Hesitation. Then Charlie responded, “I know it feels bad, but that can’t stop you. Stay in the present. You can still stay alive.”

Mark stared at him.

With an awkward cough, the young brunette questioned, “Why’re you giving me that look?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” He turned abruptly, a sarcastic laugh filling his throat. “Saying all that? Trying to make me just shrug it off like losing the only people I know isn’t a big deal?”

“N-no, I-”

“That is not how it works, Charles! You can’t just- just expect me to be alright about this-”

“And YOU can’t just say that I don’t know how it feels! YOU don’t know about what happened in that arcade!”

The turtlenecked man stopped, slowly turning to face the younger boy. “What happened in-”

“My mom...”

“...Oh.”

There was silence, before Mark ventured, “I’m so sorry.”

Charlie looked away. “Nevermind. I just don’t... Do you want to come, or not?”

“...Okay.” With a slow nod, Mark grabbed his bags and his bat and followed Charlie out the door.

Immediately several zombies staggered towards them. Charlie shot them with perfect precision and Mark followed, swinging his bat to clear the remains. The two dashed into a clearing.

In swarms the mobs came, intent on reaching their prey. Mark could feel his heart pounding as he gripped his weapon. “Charlie,” he shouted, “wh- what’s your plan?”

“You know that dead guy from the arcade?” The brunette gunned down two more zombies and kicked the one behind him in the stomach.

“Yeah?”

“Well I’ve seen other people around in the same uniform. And that symbol on those uniforms? They’re from the Red Army.”

Mark went in for a full swing towards several more of the mobs. “The… what? I don’t believe I’ve heard of them.”

“The Red Army. My, uh, my dad works there.” More gunshots, more bat swings, more zombies felled. The two of them ran past a kids’ ride. “And from what I’ve seen, they’re probably gonna come back and scout for survivors.”

“So you’re saying… they could help us?”

“Yeah! All we need is-”

“To get them to notice us! Would getting some of those uniforms possibly do the trick?”

Charlie grinned. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

They immediately made way for the arcade. Once they got inside, the two young men stripped the bloodied cloak away from its owner Mark had seen before. There was another one, too, one with especially bold eyebrows that didn’t seem to care much when they stole his cloak and took off with it.

Buttoning one of the coats on himself, Mark quietly peered out the door. His smaller friend soon followed him.

“The rollercoasters,” the blond mouthed, “need to get somewhere they can see us…”

And to the rollercoasters they went. Charlie fired with perfect precision at the zombies as they weaved through the lines.

One mob, missing most of its nose, lurched toward them. It was killed with a swift shot to the head, but not before Charlie noticed his remaining ammo. “We’ve gotta hurry, Mark! Only got a few shots left-”

“That doesn’t matter now! I can hear the helicopter!”

Finally they stumbled the rollercoaster’s loading dock. It was to their luck for once that the chopper was just flying over. “HEY,” the two screamed, frantically waving their hands.

The chopper stopped, hovering in midair, until a man with slick black hair was lowered down on a ladder. “Wait a second,” he muttered as he neared, “I don’t recognize you two-”

“Just let us on!” Mark dropped his bat and rushed over, Charlie in hot pursuit. “If we have to join your army, so be it, just  let. Us. On.”

Slowly the raven-haired man nodded, stepping to the side and helping Charlie on. Mark was about to follow when something in the back of his mind urged him to stop.

He was leaving his friends behind. For good. Without anything but a few moments of grievance. Would they want him to do that?

Of course they would, right?

It didn’t matter anyways, because he suddenly felt a sharp pain explode from his upper arm. Mark turned around, hope draining from him like blood from a fresh wound.

And sure enough, a zombie was hanging off his arm.

They were suddenly everywhere, piling on him for their feast, and he barely heard Charlie’s scream before he fell and everything faded to an inky, lifeless black.

[sian22redux]

He followed me home, chap. 3

Title: Hew followed me home,    For @theycallmebecca

Chapter 3  Beginnings:  

Rating:   Has gone up a bit.  Oopsie., grin.  

Summary   Chris and Y/N adopt a puppy to keep Dodger company and can’t settle on a name.  

Based on a prompt by @theycallmebecca because her Bosox took a series with my Indians.  Ah well they are both out of contention now :(   And because of that, to cheer her up, here’s a little of their backstory.  And the fulfillment of every Bosox fangirl’s fantasy date.

You can find Chapter 1   He Followed Me Home,  and   2 here:  here.  There will be one more after this.  Unbeta’d this time cuz it’s so overdue.  Will try to update and correct any glitches as I get the chance. 

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

You never planned on falling for Chris Evans.  

 Nope.   Nuh-unh.   You were not gonna go there.  

 You had just ended two years of heartbreak.  Sworn off of dating another working actor because self-absorption is really not your thing and you have no interest in a man mobbed by eager skirts (the perils of that scene you’ve learned the hard and public way).  

 But then on a bright, hard blue Atlanta morning, like most things in your life, it just sort of happens accidentally.….. 

Anthony Russo stands frowning down at his phone, thumbing his newest text away before sliding his glasses up on his head.  

He’s frazzled and unusually irritated: already sweating even though it’s five am.  The city is in heatwave and the production team are trying to get filming up and going before the sun makes the actors’ lives too miserable.  In half an hour they are due to be on Infinity Wars’ sprawling set.  

“Oh christ, not another one,” he mutters, shaking his ahead and pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly.  It is too early.  You are all wiped after months of location filming—coping with Murphy’s law and Mother Nature’s whim and as per usual every little thing that can go wrong has spiked the wheels.      

“What’s up?” you ask, turning your attention from marking up a message board.  

“Shiree’s got stomach flu.”  

 Ugh.  Shiree, a bouncy and fresh-faced CalState undergrad, is the sixth person on the crew to go down with a bug.   Not an auspicious sign.  You’ll have to check in with catering.  It might simply be the unrelenting heat or there might be a real problem with cross-contamination.  

Either way, you are now unhelpfully another Runner down.  

You swipe your ipad, pull up the day’s crew call.  It’s a mess of strike-outs and red-lined arrows.  Everyone is already replacing someone else.  

“I’ll sub,” you offer quickly and Anthony looks up, grateful but hesitant.  It’s not your job. Getaway Productions still needs you for continuity but after ten years in you are pretty sure you can multi-task.  

Blindfolded and walking backwards.  

“You sure?”

“Yup.  Totally. I am a master at pouring brown bilge water into too thin paper cups.”  

Anthony grins.  Both of you have been there, way back in your resumes. It’s part of the biz.   “Thanks, Y/N.”

This is how you wind up an hour later with hot coffee dripping off your hand,   apologizing to the film’s tall bearded lead.  

The actors for the morning’s scenes are gathered in an unusually bleary group. Quiet but intent, listening to Joe’s breakdown of the sequencing.   You are just about to tap on “Steve Rogers’ shoulder and offer him a cup of joe when Dave Bautista, that mountain of a man seemingly wide as he is tall, shuffles in a little late.  

He crosses too close behind you, bumps his massive bulk against your shoulder and you are knocked straight forward.  

Into Chris Evan’s broad and muscled back.

“Fuck, what?”  Chris exclaims, turning around, surprised and startled as half a cup of black no sugar (ugh why was the lid too loose?) seeps into the dark Nomad suit.  

You stand there, appalled, shaking the liquid off your hand and trying to ignore the sting.   The coffee was hot.  Too hot.   Fresh out of the canteen and hopefully hasn’t burned his skin.  Oh god.  

“Mr Evans, I am so, so sorry!”  Your words are almost tripping over each other in your haste to apologize. “Are you ok?”  

“Fine. I’m fine,” he says, craning his neck and rubbing at the dark wet patch that spreads from his lower back to his buttocks. “Just wet.  Don’t worry about me.  Are you …??”   He looks up and his tawny brows tug together.  “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”    

 You’re not surprised.  There are literally dozens of people on the set and no reason for you to have met before.  You spend your days mostly holed up inside the production trailer.  

“Y/N,” you answer as Chris grabs the dripping cardboard tray and reaches for your wrist.  It’s red.  He’s frowning; holding it incredibly gently in fingers twice the size of yours.   “You’re burned.”

“It’s nothing,” you reply automatically, although it really isn’t. The skin is bright red and stings a bitch; the sharp pain getting worse by the minute.  You don’t have time for this.  Your job is to keep filming rolling, not slow it down.    

Gingerly, you wiggle your phone from your jeans back pocket, more worried for the moment that wardrobe needs a call.  Chris has Nomad’s tan gloves tucked into his belt.  God you hope that they aren’t trashed. It would ruin close-up shots. “I’ll get Lena to come down with a dryer, Mr. Evans.  I hope the stain won’t show.”  

“Fuck the stain,” Chris counters softly.  He steps nearer to get a better look at you.  The furrow on his brow gets deeper.  This close he is even bigger than you thought, smells like coffee and wet leather and spice, anything but threatening.  In the shade, his sapphire eyes look darker, mysteriously match the blue star stitched above his pec.  

 “You need this checked. It might blister.  And get infected.”   The litany of possible negative repercussions trails off mercifully but before you can protest he signals to another runner with a microphone. “Call the paramedics.”  

Shit.  That does it. The alert goes out and you both stand, waiting for the medical people to arrive when  both Anthony and Joe muscle through the group.  The speech is finished.  You realize that around your little world, Falcon and Winter Soldier, Star Lord and Dax have melted away, back to the Milano mock-up.  

Joe looks anxiously between you and Chris, at first uncertain who is the patient, but then he notices your hand cradled in Chris’s larger one.  “Y/N are you ok? What happened?”    

 “Accident,” Chris says immediately and you flush, embarrassed to have caused a ruckus and acutely aware of how unprofessionally close you are. You pull back a little farther, but he doesn’t let you go.

“It’s nothing, Mr. Russo.  I spilled coffee on Mr. Evans’ suit.”

 “It’s not nothing.  You’re hurt.  And call me Chris, will you please?”

 He smiles, lopsided and half-bashful, absently rubbing cool and soothing fingers next to your stinging skin and that’s all it takes.  A few awkward, fleeting minutes before the cavalry arrives and your heart will be lost— tumble down between life’s cushions where you don’t think to look—but in the moment you stand mesmerized, vaguely aware that Anthony’s talking quickly into his mike, motioning for the goulishly curious to be kept at bay.  Most oblige, except for a thin, fresh-faced and way too earnest guy in a Nasa hoodie and headset.  He’s hovering, trying to get Chris’s attention, because Nomad’s needed on set in twenty, but Chris insists on waiting until the call comes to actually take his mark; stands watching patiently while a blue-gloved EMT pronounces it “only low second degree”.

“Second!”  Chris looks ready to freak out but the gentle-voiced paramedic explains that there are only a few small, pinprick blisters coming up.  Nothing that won’t heal quite quickly if you keep it clean and dry.  

“Mr. Evans?”  

“Mr. Evans?”  Nasa guy looks so pained he might combust.

“Coming Matt.”   The Russos, reassured it’s nothing serious, have already headed to the first scene set.  Chris sighs and meets your gaze. “Sorry.  Gotta go.”

“I’m fine.  Thank you,” you nod but he’s gone--a retreating smudge of sable in a sea of purple minions.  

It feels like the morning’s sunshine has been covered by bank of high, dark cloud.

Good grief Y/N. Get a grip.      

After that you sit in a hastily retrieved folding chair (Ms Saldana it says on back)  feeling a little bewildered and a whole lot rattled.  The paramedic slathers on a blessedly cool antiseptic cream; covers the burn loosely and orders you to get it checked tomorrow if it swells or oozes overnight.  You take some painkillers, rest for an hour or two on Russos’ orders but after lunch carry on again. certain that Chris has forgotten all about the morning’s mess, but then at 3 o’clock Matt finds you in the producer’s huddle.  

He hands you a note handwritten on a concession napkin.  

I don’t have your number.  Are you ok? -C  

Your eyes bug out.  Yes that certainly seems to be a phone number on the back.  

Omg.  

You pull out your iphone and, weirdly nervous, have to type the number twice.  

<I’m ok. And thanks!>    

Of course there will be no immediate response.  The actors’ phones stay mostly in their trailers when they are on set.  You try not to check for a reply, keep mostly occupied with  updating the afternoon scene list, when a telltale buzz fires at your hip.  

You swipe the screen with your other hand.    

 <So relieved. See you at D’s?>  

 D’s is Dene’s, the pub around the corner from the mini city of Getaway’s Atlanta hub.   The cast and crew often hang there at the end of a long hot day, for the Sweetwater homebrews and the chicken biscuits.  It’s tempting, though honestly you’d thought of nothing more than going home; lying down and just putting the day behind you.

But Chris.  Has asked. himself.  And it would be good to say thanks again: you weren’t sure he had heard you, having run off so fast.   The call sheet might say you start at the usual ungodly hour but Anthony had ordered you to rest.  

Come on, Y/N. What would it hurt?

You gather up your satchel, toss the gauze and polysporin the medic gave you into the zippered pocket and sling it over your shoulder, drive the two short blocks to Dene’s to make it easy heading home

 Once in the high ceilinged, noisy space you pull up a seat at the bar and get a soda—you are driving and took pain meds--striking up a chat with Will, one of the best steadicam operators you’ve worked with.  The two of you shoot the breeze a while before he downs the last of his bourbon, grabs his keys, mumbling something about his baby girl.

A minute later you feel someone looming just behind.  It’s Chris.  Freshly showered, in wet hair, grey shorts and t.  A cascade of butterflies ripple through your stomach.  You’ve hardly spoken to him before now, but being focus of that gaze—wow.  It’s even better than the hype.      

He leans on the polished wooden top, eyes worried and intent. “Hey Y/N,”

“Hey.”

“How’s the hand?”  He reaches out and punctuates the question with a caress on your elbow. It gentle, easy, part of the casual way he touches everyone, and no big deal.  Chris Evans, real life Captain America, is reputed to do this with everyone. Is handsy. Hugs as easily as breathing.  

Shut up stupid butterflies.    “Just stings,” you shrug. expecting him to make few minutes chat but somehow you both wind up deep in conversation.  The state of the union and all things Trump are covered, work travel and mindfulness.   He’s thoughtful.  And articulate.  Down to earth and inhumanly attractive.  There’s something a little wicked behind the almost-bashful smile.  

Your internal warning klaxons silently begin to blare.

He’s not for you.   Chris is known to be the world’s nicest guy. Golden-hearted (as Jenny famously announced) and worried about everything and everyone.  

“It’s fine.  Really,” you insist when he offers to walk you to your car, fretting that you haven’t planned for the next day off.  It is fine. You will take it a little easier. Show up at 7, instead of 4:45. but nothing puts him off.  

Underneath a flickering streetlight, Chris opens your car door, sets a hand on your lower back to lean over and say goodnight and a warmth that has nothing to do with Atlanta’s humid swamp begins to pool low in your belly.  

Oh oh.    

Of course in the weeks to come Chris’s golden retriever level of enthusiasm wears you down.    

First it’s “do you play charades?”;  then it’s  “we’re having a cast/crew baseball game…”   All correctly platonic and entirely above board.  No pressure.  First a Condessa latte shows up on your desk.  Then lunches with Mackie and Joe morph into casual dinner dates with just him.  Standing plans to watch MLB at Dene’s pop up because, if anything, you are more obsessed than he with Boston’s fabled Sox.  He’s a perfect gentlemen when he escorts you to a Pats game in the Falcon’s Nest.  

His fanboying over Brady makes you grin from ear to ear.

As you get to know each other better so many things get shared. You open up about your crazy gypsy life as an air force brat, how hard it was to be constantly on the move; how you love spontaneity because your dad ran your home like a fighter wing.   He talks about the pressure of being in the public eye; how hard it is to meet someone who understands that life but how much he craves some stability.  How much he misses Dodger when he’s away.    

The first hint it could be something different dawns when you find two ALDS passes and tickets for Logan airport clipped onto your white board.  

Anthony raises an eyebrow and just grins as you stand in shock.

Oh.

My.

God.  

(Boston is having an okay pennant run even with David Price on the DL list.)

You bolt from the set and arrive just in time to take your seat in the private box, smiling up at Chris as he hands you an icy Sleeper Street IPA.  

The bottle is covered in condensation.   It makes your fingers slide a little bit.    

“Watch that beer,” he grins, ocean eyes twinkling as he leans over to cover your hand with his.  He whispers “If you spill on me again this time I might have to take off my shirt.”  

Oh Lord. He’s isn’t.  He’s not…

He’s flirting, yes he is but you dismiss it.  Doesn’t mean a thing. Chris Evans flirts with everyone. Constantly.  You know this—it’s part of his innate charm.  He’s single, playing the field, rumoured to be with everyone from Scarlet to a newly-available Ana Paris.  And what would he, a star, want with you, second assistant producer and chief-fixer of whatever Anthony and Joe need done?   No way.   You’re just one of his many buds.  Filling the gap during the long months away.  

You both are thrilled to a see game.  Chris Sale, Boston Cy Young contender, is not at his best but you don’t care.  The food and drinks don’t stop.  You have the best view of Fenway you’ve ever had and you laugh, and laugh; the two of you teasing each other from the 1st inning to the 9th.

On the red eye flight back that night you fall asleep with your head upon his shoulder.    

The fall winds quickly on.  Filming goes on hiatus, you both head west to home, say keep in touch but of course he’s just being nice.  Somehow (Anthony?!)  Chris gets your private private number.  Friendly texts once a week give way to trash chats almost every day during L.A.’s World Series run.  Boston’s out but that does not mean you will stoop so low as to root for the National League contender.  He invites you over with fifty of his closest friends to watch the seventh game.  It’s loud and raucous, and of course in the sea of people you hardly get a chance to talk.  

You’re on your fourth whiskey sour, a little woozy and light-headed, stomach tied in knots because the Astros are down a run, when you feel the couch dip down.   

It’s Chris.  Big and warm, and little flushed, taking a ribbing from his pals.  The two of you are quite possibly the only Houston fans in a sea of Dodger blue but neither of you care.  

Josh Reddick is at the plate.  3-2, bottom of the ninth.  Clayton Kershaw winding up.    

You lean forward, eyes on the screen when he grips your hand for reassurance.  Your heart is fluttering.   It’s the thrill the game, nothing more-- he feels it too, because beside you his leg is vibrating at hundred miles an hour—like a greyhound in the gates.    

(Afterward, you convince yourself his slightly fuzzy kiss is only because Reddick hits a walk-off home run.)

In the weeks to come you find yourself simply checking in; texting to ask how his family are; how Dodger’s coping with his schedule.  It’s nice.  Easy.  No biggie because you’re just good friends.  

Your schedules stay stubbornly mixed up—you’re in L.A., tied to the editing booth and he’s in Dubai, Milan, or Boston every chance he gets.   Like the entire world you’re glued to his twitter feed: laughing at another video of ridiculously drunken enthusiasm when the Pats win again; fangirling every time another picture of Dodger shows up.  

You both manage dinner once or twice but there’s no time to seriously hang.  You miss it. Intensely.  Somehow you’d become used to having him always there but there is nothing you can do.  

Ridiculous, Y/N.  You’re simply friends.  You’ll catch up when there’s time.

The holiday season rolls around and it’s time for the annual Getaway crew party.  You splurge on a kickass dress (red because it brings out the highlights in your hair) and Manolo Blahniks that make your legs go on forever, get your hair and makeup done just for no reason (honestly).  After a quick hi to Anthony and Joe, you collect a flute of champagne and drift through the crowd, winding up after many hugs on the deck beside the pool.

The lights twinkling in the blooming fuschias cast a hazy blush in the air.  It’s gorgeous and the perfect place to hide when you are trying to not too obviously peruse the crowd.      

You hear Chris before you see him.  His booming laugh echoes up from the lower terrace.  He’s there-- tanned; neatly trimmed and striking in a silver shirt and dark black jeans--- with Pratt and Mackie.  They’re out on the grass underneath the stars, surrounded by the bevy of blonds from accounting, joking and pounding tumblers of Chivas back.  

He looks incredible.  More than half-cut.  And occupied.  

You take a gulp of the exquisitely dry Cava and will your pulse to settle down.  He hasn’t yet noticed that you’re there.  Of course not.  The daily texting dropped off weeks ago but your stubborn, stupid heart can’t help but wish that he’d come looking for you.

Sweep you up in those huge strong arms and say he’d missed you too.

Because that’s what good friends do.

Yeah right.

You’re just telling yourself what an idiot you are when he throws back his head and laughs, wraps an arm around Jeanine (petite, perfect and probably enhanced) and your stomach twists.

Oh god.  You hadn’t realized your ‘problem’ had got this bad.

“Go on, Y/N.  Go over.”  

The words are whispered near your ear and you whirl, just barely keeping the bubbly in your glass.  

Jeremy Renner is smiling, mouth quirked to one side, kind eyes glinting in the glow of Christmas lights.  He’s not one of the cast you know that well so you stand, a little stunned while he waves his glass in the direction of the noise.  

“I mean it.  Go get him. Chris is crazy about you.  I told the idiot he was wrong but he’s convinced that you aren’t interested.”  

Aren’t interested?  But that means that he….

You slowly shake your head, nervously tucking a stray strand of hair back behind your ear.  Crazy about you?   Sure he’s flirted.  Kissed you once.  Kept in close touch but that had fizzled lately.  Jeremy can’t be right.  You know they’re close, but he has have misunderstood something that he said.  

What you and Chris have is not that kind of thing.  

The sound of laughter carries across the water.  You stare into your glass, hoping to find a little help but you know it won’t   Your normally spontaneous and ebullient self has been body snatched by a timid mouse.  

“It’s not my place.  I’m not.. ”  you mumble when you finally get your tongue to work.  

The flush that stains your throat and neck tells otherwise.

“Really?” Jeremy chuckles.  “Then why have your eyes been glued on him non-stop?”   He frowns down at the group for a moment before looking back up to you.  “Y/N, I’ve watched him dance around you now for months.  He’s trying to take things slow.  Not rush headlong for once into something new and keep it out of the press’s eye.  I told him he’s being too discreet; that he’s so careful you can’t tell what’s in his busy head but he won’t listen.”

Your mouth is flapping open like a fish.  Jeremy smiles wide and slow, nods when you can’t help yourself and look back down into the yard.  What if he’s wrong?  What if you make a fool of yourself?  What if he’s ready to move on?  

“I can’t…”  

“Sometimes you just have to take a leap.”

 The waiter drifts past again.  Jeremy silently pulls your empty flute from your trembling fingers and hands back a fresh round of dutch courage.  You raise it to your lips, swig the bubbly like water.  The knot of people around Chris has changed again, condensed to the two Chrises, Anthony and Sheletta, his wife and childhood sweetheart.  You’ve met her on set.  She’s lovely. Not too scary.

Jeannine is nowhere to be seen. .    

From beside you a piercing whistle makes you jump.  “Evans!” Jeremy calls and  oh fuck he’s done it—Jeremy has rolled the dice.  

Chris looks up, finds Renner’s wave and then his eyes go wide. His handsome face flushes and he bites his lip.  Shakes his head wonderingly and mouths ‘You look beautiful”.  

To you.  The girl he’s been crazy about all these months.

Oh god.  OK.  That’s it.  

 You walk down the terrace steps and into a new life.

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

MLB is Major league baseball and ALDS is  American League Division Series :)

tags.  @sweet-empowerment  @miss-cap21  @brooklyn-to-battlefields @inkwellsandmagicspells     @maggieskeleton   @imagine-cats96  @mewsiex  @yourtropegirl     @its-forevermore  @dirajunara    @s0eul   @our-sharona  @avaalons     @lumelgy   @mycapt-ohcapt  @mypatronusismrpricklepants  @3dsaunt   @mrchristopherrobert   @our-jasmine-universe  @rayleyanns   @s8sense   @tinaferaldo     @callamint  @emilyevanston   @interstateofmind   @lilnerdy   @666themarkofthebitch    @thestarlighthotel    @doloreschanel   @pegasusdragontiger   @zkkn ; @missfirstavenger   

[avaantares]

On Torchwood: Miracle Day

Why this post? Because I’m planning to be lazy in the future. :) I keep seeing this series come up in discussion, and I wanted to get my thoughts down all in one spot for easy reference. So this is simply a text dump containing my thoughts on Miracle Day, both positive and negative. (Spoiler: there are more negatives than positives.)

This will be long, so here’s a dash-saver...

(Disclaimer: It’s been a few years since I watched this series, and I only did so once, so the impressions I’m reporting below are based on what was most salient/most memorable from that viewing. If I failed to notice a detail or have forgotten something, that’s my error – though I would argue that I’m usually a pretty astute viewer, so if something critical is not clear on a first watch, that fault may lie at least in part with the show.)

Okay. Got your popcorn ready? Let’s go.

Things I disliked about Miracle Day:

Genre shift. Instead of a character-driven fantasy like Doctor Who and the first two series of Torchwood, MD is structured more like a political thriller. This is not inherently bad – Children of Earth straddled the line, and was still very effective -- but subjectively, MD didn’t feel like Torchwood at all to me. It felt really… American. (Full disclosure: I dislike a lot of American television writing in general; that’s why I watch more foreign TV than domestic, despite living in the U.S.)

The protagonists. The new characters failed to interest me as a viewer. There was nothing endearing or compelling about Rex, and I personally disliked his character and his attitude. I don’t remember anything particularly dynamic about his character arc, either (he… learns to be a team player, I guess?). Esther, who started out as a fairly generic model of Perky Blonde Sidekick, became more likable as the series progressed; she had stated goals that hinted at future growth, but the most interesting conflicts the series set up for her (i.e. the personal drama over her sister’s kids) were, to my memory, never resolved. (See also Rex’s daddy issues – we take time establishing that he has them, but nothing ever comes of it. What did that scene really add to his overall character growth? Did his father ever even get mentioned again?) Oddly enough, the most compelling character out of the entire new lineup was Bill Pullman’s creeptastic pedophile, and I kind of feel like that shouldn’t be the case with an ensemble cast of this size. (Props to Pullman on that performance, though. 10/10 would set fire to that character.)

Jack’s regression. This is admittedly a minor quibble in the grand scheme of things, but it still bothers me from a characterization standpoint. Jack started in series 1 of Torchwood as… well, a bit of a jerk, actually (which is not inappropriate for his character at that point), but he grows over time (as lead characters should). Between S1 and S2 (Utopia/tSoD/LotTL) he reaches a turning point, choosing to return to Cardiff because he wants to be with his team, and he continues that dynamic process throughout the second series. Then CoE pulls the rug out from under him, and he flees Earth in grief – but when he returns in MD, it’s without the sensitivity or empathy we’d seen him develop through the previous series. At various times he displays behavior that is whiny, bitter, clingy, and caustic. It feels like much of the growth of the previous seasons was negated while he was off-planet, only there’s no clear explanation for what caused it (or, for that matter, why he returned at all; we’d last seen him in a space bar chatting up Alonso Frame, with no apparent intention to come back to Earth). I’d attribute the change to the losses he’s suffered, but I don’t see a clear connection between grief and the petulant attitude he seems to lapse into in MD, and the show itself doesn’t make any attempt to draw a link (Ianto rates a brief mention when Jack drunk-dials Gwen from another man’s bed; I don’t remember if Steven, Owen or Tosh are even spoken of, apart from Jack borrowing Owen’s name once). And we really have no frame of reference for how long he’s been gone. It might have been decades for Jack.

Let’s Talk About Sex(uality). When watching a show, I don’t typically pay any more attention to sexuality/representation than I do to shot framing or dialogue – I’m aware of it, but it’s not something I zero in on to criticize unless they’re doing it badly -- so when I actually pause an episode to complain about the insulting stereotypes, there’s a problem. I know some people were unhappy that Jack was presented more gay than omnisexual, but eh, okay, they’re marketing to a new audience, they have a bunch of new characters to deal with, maybe they don’t want to spend time explaining Jack’s proclivities. But there’s no excuse for that cringeworthy scene with everyone mocking the flight attendant for being gay, even though he denies it – and the punchline is that he experimented with a guy once, so OBVIOUSLY he’s secretly gay, haha, they were right all along! Gay stereotypes are funny! Um. Wow. I remember staring at the screen with my jaw hanging open and saying, “I can’t believe John Barrowman, of all people, was on board with this.” After the casual, understated openness of the previous three series, the change in tone – the calling-out of anyone’s sexuality at all in a series where historically, nearly the entire main cast was (at least) bisexual -- was almost whiplash-inducing. (See above re: it just didn’t feel like Torchwood.)

Continuity? Schmontinuity! ...And this is where the series really lost me. I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a detail nerd, but mistakes like these are worse than sloppy – they’re downright confusing when you’re actually trying to figure out what’s going on in the show. The events of Miracle Day not only break the entire Doctor Who universe, but they aren’t even internally consistent with the rest of Torchwood. I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out just when the “Immortal Sins” flashbacks were supposed to have happened and whether or not a time loop was integral to the plot, because all the on-screen evidence in those episodes indicated that Jack was on his fourth tour of the 20th century: Jack explains to Angelo that he’s a fixed point in time – yet Jack himself wouldn’t learn that from the Doctor until 70 years later in his own timeline. Also, Jack is running around in the mid-1930s wearing his WWII-issue RAF greatcoat (and Webley holster, etc.) – but WWII hasn't started yet, so he can't have served in it (as an American volunteer or anything else) to acquire a coat, and he can’t possibly have one from the future as he has been living on Earth in linear time since 1869. (He didn’t have the coat when he was stranded on Satellite Five, and isn’t shown wearing it in other Torchwood flashbacks/photos until the appropriate era.) In short, the ONLY way the MD timeline works is if Jack went back to the 1930s after fleeing the planet in Children of Earth, which makes no sense at all from a story or character standpoint. Furthermore, the “explanation” for the Miracle contradicts everything we’ve been told up to this point about Jack’s immortality. Jack is supposedly a fixed point in time, being kept alive by the time vortex itself – except, apparently, when you set up a morphic field that somehow inverts the power of the time vortex around the entire planet, without affecting the flow of time, or any other fixed points, or anything else? And there’s also a nullification field that re-reverses the morphic field to let Angelo die, except for some reason it doesn’t restore Jack’s immortality when he’s inside it? Are we not even going to hand-wave an explanation for this? (Inconveniently, this also toasts our main character hook: Apparently Jack can die any time he likes by setting up a portable field to neutralize his immortality, like Angelo did. Welp, there goes our tragically-immortal protagonist. On to the next series.) …And let’s not even discuss the nonsense with the Trickster’s Brigade and FDR’s brain, which doesn’t jive with the Trickster’s repeatedly-stated objectives in The Sarah Jane Adventures. I’m all for name-dropping-in-a-non-legally-actionable-way-because-we-don’t-have-full-rights-to-Doctor-Who-properties, but that was just silly.

The $@%^&# ending. This probably belongs with the previous entry, but it made me furious enough to merit its own bullet point. Jack’s blood now makes other people immortal? …the HECK?! Is Rex a fixed point in time now? How does that even work? Does Earth somehow influence the time vortex? Can a planet clone the time stream? NONE OF THIS IS COMPATIBLE WITH THE REST OF THE WHONIVERSE.

The villains. One thing that made Torchwood as a series interesting is that for the most part, the formula for each episode wasn’t “Our Heroes vs. The Generic Bad Guys Bent On World Domination.” Antagonists were usually more complex, and often the conflict left the team in a moral gray area. Team Torchwood faced evil humans (”Countrycide”), betrayal from within (”They Keep Killing Suzie”), unwitting enemy agents (”Sleeper”), opportunistic human capitalists (”Meat”), time itself (”Out of Time;” “To The Last Man”), and even the government (Children of Earth), among others. Sure, there were occasional Generic Bad Guy episodes (”Reset”), but it wasn’t the norm – and in my opinion, the series’ weakest moments were when they fell into that more generic formula. (”End of Days” had some interesting moments, but the giant CGI monster stomping on Cardiff wasn’t one of them.) In MD, though, we have this amazingly complex setup for an intriguing and world-altering scenario, with hints that it stretches across decades if not centuries, revolving around Jack and those he loved, and there’s so much buildup that we know there must be some deep meaning behind it all… And then it’s revealed that the villain behind the curtain is A Group Of Evil Mob Bosses Bent On World Domination™. There’s not even any personal tie to Jack, who should (for the sake of symmetry) be at the center of it all. It’s just some Generic Bad Guys messing around with some stuff they found. Even though it’s his blood, Jack as a character is really just incidental to it all. The reveal would have exactly the same emotional gravitas if one of the Bad Guys had found Jack’s discarded vortex manipulator and used it to take over the world. It was just... unsatisfying.

...There’s more, but I think that’s enough digital ink spilled for the moment. I’m sure you can get an idea of my general opinion.

But, in fairness, now that I’ve griped about everything I didn’t like, let’s look at

Things Miracle Day did well:

The premise. The concept of people suddenly not dying, the fallout of that situation, and the questions it raises about life and death, civil rights. and society as a whole, is a brilliant concept! It would have made a very solid sci-fi film/series on its own; I just wish it hadn’t been crammed into Torchwood, because it didn’t mesh well with the story already in progress. Even so, there were moments where the sociopolitical drama actually played out quite well in spite of the show’s other issues. There were legitimately creepy horror elements – people being burned alive or dissected and not dying during the process – and it was interesting to consider the practical questions of where you put bodies, how you classify them, and so on. The family drama with Gwen’s father showed the more personal dilemma, while Vera’s incineration highlighted the danger of having the decision-making power in the wrong hands.

Gwen vs. Jack. Gwen having to choose between her family and Jack was the logical progression for her character’s story, and while I can’t say I enjoyed watching the trust between them disintegrate, I do think it was a good conflict to set up, and it gave both of them some much-needed character focus amid a very event-driven plot. (And it was a relief not to have any of those unconvincing awkward-sexual-tension scenes shoehorned in… wait, now I’m griping about the earlier series. Sorry.) Gwen had several good character moments during the series, actually; I remember the bit where she talks about killing her father as being particularly powerful, and she had a few fun one-liners as well (”I’m Welsh”). She was also given some good action sequences. Speaking of which…

Helicopter vs. shoulder-fired missile. With baby under one arm. Okay, not gonna lie, that entire sequence was pure candy.

Andy Davidson. Yes. Good. We can always use more Sgt. Andy. (Let him join Torchwood already!) Aside from their roles in the story, the presence of Andy and Rhys did provide a more solid link to the previous series. It’s not Torchwood without a minimum percentage of Welsh accents, after all. :)

The Oswald Danes storyline. It was creepy and disturbing, but the story of a psychotic killer, manipulated by a media expert, who rises to celebrity status and begins influencing public action was quite compelling (and, now that I think of it, may have struck a little too close to home… did I mention I live in the U.S.? *ahem*). Another thing I didn’t enjoy, per se, but it was certainly effective, especially coupled with Pullman’s convincing performance.

So there’s my (incredibly long and verbose) take on Miracle Day. I think it could best be summarized as “Great concept, weak execution.” Congratulations if you actually read this far. :)

[fearofaherobrine]

Roleplay Server Log #155

“Alexis the Sleeper, Talk of Coronations”

-Before long the castle comes into view. Steve is outside in the garden picking cocoa pods.

[Herabrine] Sneaks up on him and hits him with a little ball of water.

[Steve] YOW! That's cold! Herabrine!

[Herabrine] snickers. -Where's Doc?

[Steve] Creep - Is patting himself off with a wool square- Look up.

-The big yellow dragon is laying like a limp ribbon, draped over the corner of the castle roof with hir tail hanging down.

[Herabrine] Lazy ass.

[Steve] Hey, xe was up all night. They usually are.

[Stevie] Comes from the direction of the carrots carrying a web root- Other Steve! Look what I found!

[Steve] Oh hey, let me see that. This is a really special plant Stevie. It's actually a type of medicine. Don't ever eat these okay?

[Stevie] - Okay!

[Herabrine] I remember those. They do weird shit.

[Steve] Yeah it has some side effects. They still work though.

[Stevie] Sees Alexis- Hi pretty lady!

[Alexis] - Hi Stevie!

[Steve] We've had some fun, he stayed the night and we mined together. Show Alexis what you found Stevie.

[Herabrine] And now you're gardening. Wheee....

[Stevie] Pulls out a bit of gold, lapis, red stone, and a lot of coal and cobble- See!

[Alexis] - Wow, that's a good haul!

[Herabrine] Mimes a yawn

[Steve] He killed a big spider too.

[Alexis] - That's so awesome! Good job!

[Stevie] - It was super big!

[Herabrine] So if I throw something at Doc, what do you think the chances are they'll fall off the roof?

[Steve] Don't do that....

[Alexis] - Well we kinda need them to give me a once over...

[Herabrine] Whatever. I'll just give em a good poke. - Flies up and gives Doc a hard shove on the snout.

[Doc] Meeeeeehhhhh Whaaat? WHOAH! - Xe flops sideways and manages to catch hirself on the random protrusions of cobble on the walls

[Doc] Slides slowly down to the ground ripping down a ton of vines and flopping on the patio - Whhhhhhhyyyyy?

[Herabrine] You're needed.

[Stevie] Giggles-

[Steve] Shakes his head. - Brines.

[Alexis] - Hello Doc

[Doc] Yawns, xe curls around into a snaky knot and changes back into hir human shape before flopping down on the bench under the giant mushroom- Something on your mind Alexis?

[Alexis] - Well I was wondering if you could go over my code. I was with the other Alex's today and it dawned on us that there could be something harmful in my code

[Doc] Is a now a bit more awake - Harmful how?

[Alexis] - Uh, well you see, I was made by the NOTCH that tried to remove CP

[Doc] Shit.... really? Do you think.. you were made as some kind of distraction for Stevie?

[Herabrine] No I think she might be programmed to stab Cp in the back if she tries to ally with him. She seems predisposed to hate brines.

[Alexis] - What Stevie and I were told was that I was to be a companion for him. and it's more like I can't let go of hate if someone done something harmful to me

[Doc] Well there's nothing wrong with having emotions. Lots of people find it hard to forgive.

[Herabrine] That's bullshit, but it explains a lot. Do you actually love him? Or you just think you should?

[Steve] Was listening in- Our Alexsezia came second too, but she was supposed to be a more perfect being then the Steves. She was supposed to be entirely self-sufficent.

[Doc] That would explain why the other Alex's are ace, but you aren't, Alexis.... If find out that you're just programmed to love him, do you want that removed?

[Alexis] - I... I don't know...

[Doc] I can't make that decision for you Alexis. I feel bad sometimes that Deerheart is in that same boat, but I have to believe her love for me is real because she was generated as a response to the love I was already giving to what created her.

[Alexis] - I was told I was a companion, that doesn't mean lover all the time. So maybe my love is real?

[Herabrine] You've been alone for a long time now, are you content at all?

[Steve] I was made to be a companion too Alexis, but my love took time to grow. We didn't even know it was the case until later.

[Alexis] - No, I'm not content, my heart hurts without him...

[Stevie] - You're hurt?

[Steve] Sometimes when people hurt Stevie, it's not visible. They just feel sad and it's uncomfortable.

[Doc] Then I'll just take a look - Xe puts down a command block and moves one of Alexis hands onto the surface to begin scanning her

[Doc there's a sudden widening of hir eyes that only Hera spots and xe quickly copies a file from Alexis's code and deletes the original before anyone else sees.

[Herabrine] Gives Doc a hard stare.

[Doc] Well, there's not much here, I think your problem is mostly emotional. It's hard to forgive and forget. I do know one thing that will make you feel better though. - types- Deerheart can I borrow your Shaymin? I'm outside near BEN's old froom.

[Deer] - I'm on my way

[Deer] Arrives with Shaymin in her arms-

[Doc] Thank you my love. Now this little dude has shown all kinds of talent for reclaimation. Try holding them Alexis, see how you feel.

[Alexis] Gently takes Shaymin- I already feel calmer

[Steve] Hedgehog bush. That little critters so cute.

[Doc] It wouldn't hurt you to visit Sweet Alex and bug her for one of her magick hugs either.

[Alexis] - I wouldn't want to intrude...

[Herabrine] BAH. She loves company.

[Stevie] Is picking some flowers-

[Doc] She's right, Gk never sleeps there, but he's over there constantly, Enderbro too.

[Herabrine] That's cause he prefers sleeping in his dragon form even if he has to do it outside.

[Doc] Well it is comfy.... It's much harder to accidentally get in a pose where you wake up cramped and sore.

[Alexis] Is feeling very calm holding the Pokemon-

[Stevie] Ruins back over with s handful of flowers and holds them out to Alexis- Here you go pretty lady!

[Steve] Kinda looks like he might cry.

[Doc] Stevie... could you come over here? I want to give you a quick once over too. Just put your hand here.

[Alexis] Smiles at Stevie and takes the flowers- Thank you Stevie

[Stevie] Looks at Doc- Okay!- He runs over and puts his hand down

[Doc] Run a quick scan and then does it again before speaking- Okay, your code is clean, and you're healthy as a horse. Thank you Stevie, you can go play some more.

[Stevie] - Yay!- He runs off to play by the pond

[Doc] Casually- Has anyone seen Cp today?

[Herabrine] Yeah, he's banging Lie.

[Doc] well then.

[Alexis] Blushes a little, remembering what they saw-

[Alexis] - Hera had quite the laughing fit over it

[Herabrine] He was naked and angry, it was funny as fuck.

[Doc] Seen that one a few times myself.

[Alexis] - I mean, he's really not that bad to look at...

[Doc] Turns a bit pink - well... he is good in bed. Not nearly as nice as being with someone who actually loves me, but technically proficent.

[Herabrine] What the fuck Doc?!

[Steve] Last to know huh Herabrine?

[Deer] - Lie was there too

-Above them an honesty flitter is sunning itself on the remains of the vines-

[Doc] Yeah, but I didn't do anything with her, she was just.... on me. - Turning red-

[Alexis] - I have thought about trading Stevie with the thought I'd a threesome's with either one of them... Not exactly sure how it would work...

[Doc] You want to fuck Cp? He's awfully territorial. He was more okay with me violating his rump them touching his wife.

[Alexis] - I SAID TEASING! NOT DOING!

[Herabrine] What the hell is wrong with both of you?!

[Steve] Is looking around-

[Alexis] - I don't know... So you said my coding was okay Doc?

[Doc] OH. Yes... you're fine.

[Alexis] - Your sure there's nothing harmful there?

[Doc] Is visibly straining - No, you're fine now!

[Deer] - Are you okay love?

[Alexis] - What do you mean by now?

[Doc] I... I have to go! I'll talk to you later Alexis! - runs inside

[Herabrine] Stomps after hir-

[Alexis] - Weird...

[Stevie] - Look! Flitter!

[Steve] Narrows eyes. - hmmm... Maybe you should go check on your mate Deerheart.

[Deer] - Got it, it was good seeing you Alexis

[Alexis] - Same, take care

[Herabrine] Following Doc - Get back here dammit!

[Deer] Rushes after them-

[Doc] Darts down a ladder and into a lower room full of armor stands. Xe's panting lightly.

[Deer] Catches up to Hera- Hold on Hera, where did xe go?

[Herabrine] Down there! You go first.

[Deer] Pokes her head down- Love? What's wrong?

[Doc] Is leaning on the counter red faced and furious - I'm gonna kill that fucking NOTCH.

[Herabrine] Which one?

[Deer] - What is it love?

[Doc] It was everything in me not to tell her what that... animal did to her....

[Herabrine] Growls- what did you find? I saw that face.

[Doc] Spits the words furiously - it was two exe commands and a set of floating coordinates I recognized. Laid there when she was made. Her own fucking unwillingness to have anything to do with Cp saved her life.

[Deer] - What exactly do you mean love?

[Doc] I MEAN, I mean... geeze.... if she would have made a contract with him, and entered into his space... his agreements have their own codes to change behaviorial parameters... it would have triggered the commands.

[Herabrine] English or binary please!

[Doc] If the contract were done and she was in his inner sanctum it would have fired off the exe commands. One of them would have... deleted her. The other would have spawned a Wither on the same coordinates. Both eliminating her for being a traitor to her NOTCH and causing serious damage to CP and his base.

[Doc] I want to kill him. Just twist him up and wring every drop of code out of his miserable shape.

[Deer] - But doesn't CP control his withers?

[Doc] Not a freshly spawned one, and this was double size with the mob griefing parameters doubled as well.

[Herabrine] Is speechless.

[Deer] -Why... Why is this necessary? What would drive a NOTCH to do this?

[Doc] What would drive him to destroy a happy family?

[Deer] - Should we tell CP?

[Doc] Yes. I'm going to make good on my promise to help him. I think he'll be just as mad as I am

[Deer] - Well, perhaps we should give him a bit more time first...

[Deer] - Oh and love, it probably would have been easier to lie to Alexis if there hadn't been an honesty flitter there

[Doc] You're right as usual and it's dumb to run off half-cocked, but I am quite pissed right now.

[Herabrine] THEN we go kill him

[Deer] - But we don't know where he is

[Doc] We know he frequents Cp's server. Nether we could probably use Cp as bait.

[Deer] - He wont like that...

[Doc] He never likes anything, that's nothing new.

[Herabrine] But this guy nearly destroyed Cp. You're gonna need an army.

[Doc] But Cp already has an army and that didn't help him at all.

[Deer] - But he didn't have more brines

[Herabrine] I wonder if you could frame him for something so Slender would kick his ass for us?

[Doc] That's incredibly devious Hera.

[Deer] - Wouldn't Slender already know?

[Doc] Know about what?

[Deer] - The NOTCH

[Doc] Know what, that he hurt Cp? I have no idea. If he knows it raises the question of why Slender hasn't already killed him in retailiation for hurting CP.

[Deer] - CP could have his reasons

[Doc] To conceal his identity? You mean because he still was unsure about what had happened? Well he knows now that the person who betrayed him wasn't his real father at all, so he certainly has no reason to keep it a secret now. Unless it's just a petty revenge thing where he wants to be the one to make the kill.

[Deer] - We wont get very far speculating when we could just ask him

[Doc] Do you think they're done... having their intimate time yet? He won't tell us squat if he's angry.

[Herabrine] It's been several hours....

[Deer] - Then lets go

[Herabrine] Is already up the ladder.

[Doc] Hugs Deerheart briefly, just because xe's still upset and then follows.

[Deer] - I'll stay here to keep an eye on Stevie

[Doc] Okay, Steve probably needs a break anyway.

[Herabrine] You coming or what?

[Doc] Yeah yeah.

[Doc] Seems to be lagging behind a bit, because xe's still fuming and unsure how to tell Cp.

[Herabrine] Drags hir along faster.

[CP] Is curled around his naked and satisfied wife- Why don't you sleep?

[Lie] - No, I told you, I don't want to sleep after what I've just been through...

[CP] Huffs a little before holding his wife a bit closer- Alright, then we'll just rest like this

[Doc] Gets under the bridge and paces a few small circles thinking what to say.

[Herabrine] Yells- HEY CP!

[CP] Groans and yells back- WHAT!?

[Doc] I need to talk to you. It's important.

[CP] Groans again and slips out of the bed, pulling some pants on.  He steps out onto the bridge and looks over the edge- What is it now?

[Doc] I have to show you this. - Xe holds up a small digital file. - I.... I found it hidden in Alexis's programming.

[CP] Jumps down- In Alexis' files?

[Doc] I gave her a checkup, her first. I didn't tell her I found it. I just made a copy and deleted it from her.

[CP] - Can I see it?  Or will it set something off?

[Doc] No, It was specific to her. It won't work outside her coding.

[Herabrine] Her unwillingness to trust you may have saved both your lives Cp.

[CP] Reaches out and takes the file, he stiffens after reading over it.  A look of panic crosses his face- I need to go...

[Doc] Snags his wrist - Don't! Don't go alone. I promised to help you do this. I'm angry too, but this has been simmering for years. We need a plan.

[CP] - Doc, what about Stevie?

[Doc] I checked him. He's clean. And Endrea can't have anything or it would have fired off already. I think it was specifically designed to punish Stevie if he made up with you. To kill you and take away the help-meet that was made for him.

[CP] Still a bit panicked- Or to push us farther apart...

[Doc] Exactly. It's horrible and it makes me physically ill to think about it.

[Herabrine] Is now obviously puffed up since it was her idea to send Alexis to Doc.

[Lie] Has pulled on CP's shirt and looks over the side of the bridge- Is everything okay down there?

[Doc] No... but it's something that's been wrong for a long time and I'm just now finding out about it.

[Lie] - More Insanity stuff?

[Doc] No. Cp's NOTCH left a nasty surprise inside Alexis and I removed it.

[Herabrine] Flies up to the bridge and whispers some specifics into Lie's ear.

[Lie] - That's horrible!

[Herabrine] Yeah. I agree. I think we should shred him like bad files.

[Lie] - But if CP and his army can't do it, then we'll need help

[Doc] Scuffs a boot in the dirt. - Too bad Slender hates me...

[CP] - He wouldn't be able to help anyways.  I asked him about it when I first joined the pastas.  The amount of energy he would let off would destroy my seed and everything in it.

[Doc] I was going to ask why Slender didn't kill him for you. Could we lure him to an empty one?

[CP] - It takes him awhile to find where we've moved to whenever I've moved seed

[Herabrine] Has a horribly evil look - Does Offenderman like guys? I bet he'd like a playtoy that can't die.

[CP] - No shit he does

[Doc] Turns white as a sheet -

[CP] - You fail to understand that I have seen him fuck furniture before

[Herabrine] Nearly falls off the balcony laughing.

[CP] - But I'd rather he be destroyed

[Doc] Even you're not that mean, huh? I guess that's good to know.

[CP] - Oh no, I'd just rather be sure he'd have no way of coming back

[Herabrine] He can't come back if he's held captive in Offenders fuck-dungeon Cp!

[CP] - I'd still rather not risk it!

[Doc] Have you ever tried to take him out with a computer virus?

[CP] - Yes, didn't work

[Doc] Damn... when your army goes up against him, what do they do? Just attack him physically and directly?

[CP] - Pretty much, but I only send in my strongest and most well trained mobs

[Doc] Excuse me for a moment. - types in the chat- Endrea? Are you anywhere near Lie's house?

[Endrea] - In the library

[Doc] I need to talk to you.

[Endrea] Looks at the baby dragons with her- Umm...

[Doc] And Ashe.

[Endrea] - What do you want with my child?'

[Doc] I have a tactical question and sometimes the best way to solve a difficult problem is to ask a child.

[Endrea] - Just a moment, GK?  Can you babysit?

[GK] Is already playing with Willow and Oak. - Sure!

[Endrea] - Thank you, come on Ashe, Doc wants to see us

[willow and oak] -oak is trying to climb gk and willow is gumming his leg-

[Ashe] - Yes mama- He gets up and follows Endrea back to Lie's place

[Doc] Watches the big dragon land and walks up to her. - Endrea... I found something terrible in Alexis's code that was put there by the same NOTCH that made you. I need you to tell me and Ashe everything you know about him.

[Endrea] - I don't really remember much, he mostly left me to my own devices.  I remember receiving my instructions to destroy CP and that death was a disappointment, but that I'd grow stronger each time.  He didn't really have any contact with after the first time I grew up...

[Doc] I see. Ashe? Remember how I told you you should be a tactician, not a warrior?

[Ashe] - Uh-huh

[Doc] Is scribbling on a sheet of paper with a quill. - These are the parameters of the enemy and what's already been tried. I want you to think about it and come back to me or Cp with whatever ideas come to mind. No suggestion is stupid and even things that seem improbable might only need a little tweaking to become possible. Can you do that for me?

[Ashe] - Yeah!

[Doc] I'm sure you'll make everyone proud. Take your time and really plan it out too. Okay?

[Ashe] - Okay!  But what if Oak and Willow get the papers?

[Doc] They'll eat them. Just keep them in your inventory when you're not reading or writing.

[Ashe] - Understood

[Endrea] Looks at Doc- Your planning on attacking that NOTCH?

[Doc] I've been promising to help Cp destroy him since I found out what he did to Cp and his family. I won't risk the server, but it will happen one way or the other.

[Endrea] - I will sit this one out, I cannot chance leaving my children and having to stay in an egg while they grow

[Doc] I wasn't going to ask. We have plenty of dragons and I'm not sure a full on assault will work anyway. I'm open to ideas, and everytime I talk to Ashe he seems to have gotten smarter. I thought he would be a good person to ask for a fresh perspective on the problem.

[CP] - I feel like I need to check in on my generals...

[Doc] I want to go with you.

[Herabrine] Can I come too?

[CP] - Why not- Makes an opening to his seed and steps through

[Doc] Trots after him-

[Lie] Sighs- Wait for me Hera, I'll come to in case I need to calm him down- Starts to head for the door

[Herabrine] Steps in and stops short, she's wobbling on her feet. - huuurk!

[Doc] Turns to check on her

[Lie] Steps through and notices Hera's condition- Hera?

[CP] Shuts the portal- WINSTON!

[Herabrine] What's wrong with this seed?! - She's turning her hands over and over and her shortness compared to the others is much more apparent.

[Lie] - It's a higher resolution, you're okay, it will take a bit of time to get used to

[Herabrine] I feel nauseated...

[Winston] Rushes in- Master?  What's wrong?

[Herabrine] Drops a block and sits down heavily.

[CP] - I need you to send out a summons to the other generals, they are to gather immediately.  We'll meet in the conference room

[Winston] - Yes sir- Winston quickly turns and rushes out to do as his master commanded

[Doc] Looks around as they wait. The room seems larger from hir human perspective.

[CP] Digs through a few drawers in his desk, gathering some blank papers and quills and ink-

[Lie] - CP, you'll need a shirt

[Doc] I'll fix it.

[Doc] Quickly copies what Lies wearing and hands him the copy

[CP] Pulls it on quickly- Alright, I think that's all I'll need...  The Nether generals should pretty much already be gathered, but the Overworld generals will take a bit more time...

[Doc] Thinks for a moment and then copies hir own pants before offering them to Lie.

[Lie] - Hm?  Oh!  Thanks...

[Lie] - Hera?  You gonna be okay?

[Doc] Best to look decent for Cp's officials.

[Herabrine] I just need to sit for a minute so I don't puke.

[Lie] - Okay, just let me know if you need anything- She pulls the copy of the pants on

[Herabrine] I could probably use a water bucket.

[Lie] Spawns one of hers- Drink it quickly before it heats and evaporates, we are in the Nether

[Herabrine] That wasn't why I wanted it! - She pours it out quickly and then turns away to throw up in it.

[Doc] Well that was considerate at least....

[Winston] Returns- Sir, the summons have all been sent

[Doc] Self-conciously checks hirself over and fluffs up hir hair.

[CP] - Good- He turns towards Doc and Hera and holds out a bundle of code- You'll probably want to at least be able to temporarily understand my generals during this in case you have anything to add

[Doc] Hesitates and then claps an eggshell around it instead of handling it directly.

[CP] - Really Doc?

[Herabrine] I can understand them already.

[CP] - Alright- He dismisses the bit of code

[Winston] Is standing there patiently-

[Doc] Holds it near hir ear - Winston, can you say something to me?

[Winston] - I don't understand why, but alright...

[Doc] That's perfect. Thank you.

[CP] - Winston, how many are already here?

[Herabrine] Has composed herself and hidden the bucket of sick under the nearby desk

[Winston] - The Nether Generals are all here as are Eliza, Samson, and Charles

[CP] - So we're just waiting on Zacharia, Samantha, and Magnolia...

[Winston] - Yes sir

[Lie] - CP, what do you expect to come of this?

[CP] - I don't know yet

[Doc] Takes up an honor guard pose beside Cp.

[CP] - We'll need to inform them of everything that has happened recently, and then start coming up with some tactics

[Doc] Will you tell them about... your father...?

[CP] Stiffens- I...  I don't think it's necessary to let them know right now.  They don't know yet that there were two...  Well, other than Winston that is

[Doc] But the fact that some of the NOTCHs are peaceful might be important. And.... if they actually respect and care about you, it might fire them up to help more agressively. You're asking a lot of them.

[CP] - They hate this false NOTCH just as much as I do, they don't need to be more fired up

[Doc] It's up to you. They're your mobs and I do respect that.

[CP] - They don't need to know yet

[Lie] Comes up and places a hand on CP's arm-

[Herabrine] Forces herself back up again. - No way I'm missing this-

[CP] - We may as well head to the conference room now.  Winston?  Can you bring some more chairs?

[Winston] - I've already done so, you're mates seat is to your right

[CP] - Thanks

[Doc] Is there a place for me?

[Herabrine] Pushes herself off the floor and floats so her head is level with Cp's face. - I don't need a chair.

[Winston] - There is a seat for all of you

[CP] - It's there if you want Hera

[Herabrine] Nods and floats along behind them.

[Doc] Follows Winston - thank you

-They enter the large conference room, Endrea's usual spot has a few chairs placed in it. Most of the other chairs were filled with the generals-

[Doc] Finds a spot to sit and Herabrine joins hir quietly-

[Lie] Takes a seat to CP's right.  Giselle notices and glares at Lie-

[Herabrine] Whispers to Lie - what's her damage?

[Lie] - She has delusions of being CP's mate

[Herabrine] A little too loud- Oh, so she's stupid. Got it.

[Giselle] Her glare now shifts to Hera- And who is this bitch Master?

[CP] - Don't start Giselle

[Herabrine] I'm Herabrine. And if your head isn't as full of gas as most ghasts; you'll take it down a notch.

[Giselle] Huffs- You have no right to talk to me like that little bitch, I'm a general, you look like a squeaker toy

[Herabrine] I'm a brine. You're just another mob flunky to me.

[Giselle] - Ah, but this isn't your seed tinker toy, so behave like the good little slut you are

[Herabrine] Slumps for a second - her astral form rushes forward like a ghost with steam boiling off of it and shoves Giselle with tremendous force into the opposite wall before snapping back.

[Giselle] - You little bitch!- Prepares to launch fire balls

[CP} - ENOUGH!  Giselle you are toeing the line and I am this close to removing you from your station!

[Doc] Is holding the egg to hir ear - I would anyway. She's got some serious attitude issues.

[Giselle] - But Master!

[CP] - No Giselle, this is your last warning

[Doc] He's just not into you Giselle, you need to get over it.

[Giselle] Huffs but does go silent-

-The door creaks open and the last three generals enter and take their seats-

[CP] - Good, all of you are here now

[Eliza] - Master, why have we been summoned?

[Doc] Just turns quietly to Cp. Not wanting to shame him in front of his subordinates.

[Herabrine] sits back and puts her boots on the edge of the table

[CP] Takes a steadying breath- There has been a development regarding NOTCH, he apparently placed some code within Alexis which would have dealt damage to not only me, but this place as well

[Charles] - What sort of damage sir?

[CP] - A wither, not as large as the one I have, but it would have caused a lot of destruction

[Doc] Is wanting badly to say it's been taken care of, but not interrupt either

[CP] Mentally- Go ahead and chime in, I know you want to

[Doc] Stands with a bit of swirl in hir coat. - I've already removed the code. And I have scanned to see if Endrea or Stevie had the same and come up clean. I think it was specifically designed to assassinate Cp if Alexis betrayed her NOTCH and made a treaty with him. It would have also driven a further wedge between Cp and his brother and broken Stevies heart as Alexis would have been deleted in the process of the codes completion.

[Grayson] He is a huge lumbering pigman, standing almost as tall as CP- Why is that a bad thing?  That wimp is useless anyways

[Lie] Actually growls a little-

[Doc] Stevie? No Steve is useless. And if you think they are, you haven't been on the receiving end of a really determined one. My friend Father Steve has and would again walk through fire for his Herobrine.

[Grayson] - They're dumb and stupid!

[CP] - Grayson, not now

[Doc] Then I hope your stubbornness and lack of knowledge doesn't cause your end someday.

[CP] Mentally- Remember, he may not be smart, but his kind judge their leader on sheer strength alone

[Doc] Sends a loud thought - then we'll have him visit us one day. Steve wrestles with TLOT regularly. He'll pick this piggy up and dump him in the bay.

[CP] - He can try

[Doc] Trust me, he can do it.

[CP] - Back to the matter at hand, how strong of forces do we have?- He listens patiently as each general lists off their available forces

[Herabrine] I thought you said a full on attack wouldn't work anyway?

[CP] - It wont, but it will help

[Doc] As much as I'd like to just hunt him down like a dog, we need a better plan.

[CP] - We do know that he shows up here every once in awhile

[Doc] Is there anything of his I could use to make an alarm? Even a scrap of clothing could be enough to write one.

[CP] - No

[Lie] CP's curt response has her a bit concerned

[Herabrine] - slowly- Do you think... maybe he's coming back to look to for Alexis and Stevie?

[CP] - It's possible...

[Lie] - Or maybe the humans...  Before Doc moved us Stevie did mention that he would mention us to NOTCH to see if he could help...

[Doc] Well whenever someone logs on it shows in the chat. If one of them came back here, we could bait him to come out of hiding.

[CP] Is nervous about doing this, thinking of NOTCH finding the young Stevie-

[Doc] It doesn't have to be Stevie.... he created Alexis. She might be the more important one to him.

[CP] - Maybe...

[Blake] - Master, are you seriously suggesting working with them!?

[Doc] Who? Us? He has been for quite some time. We are both brines after all.

[CP] - Circumstances have...  Changed Blake, for the time being there is an uneasy agreement of sorts

[Herabrine] Yeah, one's heartbroken and the others helpless. They don't have much to lose.

[Lie] Puts a hand on CP's leg-

-The Generals murmur and speak to each other as CP gives them a chance to talk with each other about the subjects broached-

[Doc] Do they not know the circumstances of where you went and what's transpired Cp? Beyond that you found a mate?

[CP] - They know a little, but I haven't filled them in completely

[Doc] Why not?

[CP] Shifts uncomfortably-

[Doc] It's not like there's a stronger brine there who would want to take your place.

[CP] - It's more how they view me...

[Doc] Loudly in hir head so he'll answer mentally- And how is that?

[CP] Glances at Doc before responding mentally- Doc, they know me as their ruthless ruler who still protects them...

[Doc] Aren't you?

[CP] - Well yes...  But...

[Doc] Then what's the problem? Just because you're not crazy any more doesn't mean you can't lead. And while you may not be as murdery anymore I don't think you'd hesitate to set anyone on fire who challenged you.

[CP] Shifts again-

[Doc] Is the crown sitting heavy Cp? You know I won't make fun of you. I'm fully aware of how onerous responsibility can be.

[CP] - No, I will not abandon them

[Doc] I wasn't suggesting you would, just that you're not as enthusiastic about this as you once were. Maybe partly because using them as an army still didn't make your problems go away.

[Lie] Leans on CP a bit, feeling his unease-

[Magnolia] Appears to be made of red slime, she commands both Slimes and Magma cubes- Sir, who are these people you have brought with you?

[Doc] Decides to answer for him since he seems uneasy. - We are also Herobrines, but ones with different and lesser powers then he has. - Kicks Hera before she can speak-

[Lie] Takes a steadying breath, knowing many of the generals had never seen her before- And I am also his mate

[Doc] This is Lie. I am called Doc, and this is Herabrine.

[Herabrine] Gives a sarcastic wave

[CP] - They are to be shown respect, especially my mate

[Giselle] - BUT MASTER!  I'M TO BE YOUR MATE! ME!

[Herabrine] Looks a bit surprised but takes her feet down and sits up a bit straighter.

[Doc] Giselle... I was here last time you had a meltdown. I'm telling you. I did surgery on these two to give them a greater soul connection. Cp will never belong to another.

[CP] Sits there stoned face for a moment- Hera, feel free to blast her

[Giselle] Is sitting there supremely angry-

[Herabrine] Too much effort - She makes an idle gesture and a water block is suddenly encasing Giselles head.

[Giselle] Thrashes a little-

[CP] - Careful, I do still need her to lead the ghasts for a little while longer

[Herabrine] Is holding out a fist- Tell me when. I'm not sure how many hearts she has.

[CP] - She's probably already half way

[Herabrine] toys with the block for a moment more, letting it heat up and then finally releasing it before Giselle can fully drown in it. - Anyone else want to start some shit?

-The generals remain silent-

[Lie] Gives Hera a small smile-

[Herabrine] Huge satisfied grin. -

[Doc] As you have a treaty with Cp, we have a treaty with him, mutual defense.

[Eliza] - Sir, since we are discussing matters at hand, how would you like word of your mate spread?

[Giselle] Under her breath- Not at all

[Doc] She's the queen. Nothing simpler.

[Eliza] - Ah yes, but how will we get word of it to the lower mobs quickly and accurately?  We don't want any accidental attacks or misinformation

[Doc] Isn't it a good rule of thumb anyway to not attack anyone with the eye glow?

[CP] - True, but they've also seen her as a human before and had orders to capture and harm if necessary...

[Herabrine] A queen needs a crown then, right?

[Lie] - Hera...  What are you getting at?

[Herabrine] Some big to-do with food and whatnot, parade her around so they all see who not to fuck with. Or just have her summon some offensive flowers and bite the shit out of a few people you don't like in front of the others.

[CP] - Are you seriously suggesting something like a coronation?

[Herabrine] Why the fuck not? You're king here, aren't you?

[Doc] Shrugs-

[CP] - That would take some time to set up, plus I can't think of a space large enough off the top of my head...

[Lie] Shrinks a little in her seat-

[Doc] We can always just invite a few of the trusted one's over...

[CP] - How about no.  Any time any of the mobs have been moved it's been to invade...  I don't think we want that

[Doc] Oh. Yeah, never mind. Surely you can find a suitable bit of mountain to just knock out some bleachers on the side of.

[CP] - Why are we even discussing this?

[Doc] Shrugs again - You were the one that was worried. And everyone is here, right?

[CP] - Well yes, but that's not why they were gathered...

[Doc] How about this, if any of you guys are awful to Lie, I'll punch your head into the next zip code. Is that clear enough?

[Giselle] - And why should we even perceive you as a threat?

[CP] Quietly groans and puts his head in his hands-

[Doc] Cp? May I? It's your seed.

[CP] - Sure, why not

[Doc] Gets up from the table and takes a step back and then another.  Xe drags one iron heel against the floor making an ear-rending shriek of metal and then shifts as xe charges forward. The gigantic yellow dragon flies across the table trailing lightning and sparks and grabs Giselle in hir jaws. Xe flips her up in the air and uses hir tail to bat her like a ball very hard against the far wall with a painful crunch. Xe turns and roars so loud the ceiling shakes and there are small explosions as lightning falls to hit the lava outside. - That’s why!

[Giselle] Grunts as she pushes herself up off the floor- You bastard...

[Doc] Shows hir huge teeth, swishing hir tail back and forth. - Come get some.

[CP] - Giselle, I suggest you rein yourself in and stay silent

[Doc] Steps up next to Cp and sits at attention, trying to look formidable. - Are you sure? I could just make a dragon snack out of her. She seems crunchy.

[CP] - No, she should behave for now

[Giselle] With a huff she stands and storms out of the room-

[Herabrine] Flips her off. - Dumbass.

[CP] - Does anyone else have any issues they wish to voice about my mate?

[Blake] The blaze general obviously wants to say something but smartly keeps his mouth shut-

[Doc] Is suddenly in his face and snorts so his hair goes back briefly.

[Blake] - And what do you want?

[Doc] I know of you, you're also a troublemaker. I've got my eye on you.

[CP] - Rein it in Doc

[Doc] Immediately snaps back to attention and sits artfully with hir head high .

[Magnolia] - Sir, will we be holding a ceremony then for your mate?

[CP] Sighs- Fine, but it will be awhile before it happens...

[Doc] Loud thoughts to Cp. - Maybe I can convince Deerheart to come shifted. Me and her, and Endrea and Gk would make quite the honor guard.

[CP] - why would we need an honor guard?

[Doc] It looks menacing? You could ride standing on my nose, I can walk smoothly if we're not going fast.

[CP] - No

[Doc] Makes a very slightly pouty face. - Here I thought you'd be happy because I'm making myself look like your attack dog.

[CP] Groans-

[Herabrine] Do I have to dress up?

[Samson] The skeleton general leans forwards a small amount- Sir?  Are you alright?

[Doc] geeze.

[CP] - Since it was your idea Hera, yes.  And I will be fine Samson

[Herabrine] Aww dammit.

[CP] - Don't worry, I know someone who can make you something quickly that you'll like

[Doc] Well you didn't have much of a wedding, this could make up for it....

[Herabrine] Is suspicious now-

[CP] - This is going to be a fuck ton of extra paperwork...

[Doc] You have the help you need, all you have to do is offer it to him. I wonder how piggy-butt over there would react if he knew his new coffeemaker and breakroom jukebox was courtesy of a Steve?

[CP] - Wait what?

[Doc] Oh, he approved some small requests on the last batch. He denied their request for a month off and AC for the training rooms though.

[CP] - There's something I need to grab from the training room before we leave...

[Doc] nervously clicks hir claws on the floor - Don't go off on him okay? He didn't get crazy with your budget.

[CP] - No, just going to show him why I generally don't approve those types of requests...

[Doc] Bites hir lip - Cp....

[CP] Looks at his generals- You're dismissed.  I have things to think about...

-The generals respectfully stand and leave-

[Doc] Makes the 'eyes on you' gesture at Blake.

[Blake] Walks out in a bit of a huff-

[Doc] You should really fire both of them....

[CP] - Honestly I'm surprised they haven't died yet.  However, despite their behavior, they are exceptional generals

[Doc] Maybe we could trap them somewhere with one of Lie's offensive plants. Then it would both look like an accident and keep them busy.

[Lie] - I don't know how I feel about that...

[Doc] They're fucking eachother anyway, they just want to include Cp in it.

[Lie] - Still....  But are we seriously doing this coronation thing?

[Doc] I'm just going to pout because Cp doesn't want to have a small phallanx of dragons to lead him out.

[CP] - It seems a bit overkill

[Doc] Juts out hir lower jaw so hir bottom teeth stick out in an obvious pout.

[CP] Stands from his chair- If you're hungry there's food in the kitchen, Doc you should remember the way?

[Doc] Mutters- I can look regal. Oriental dragons were the symbols of kings you know. Okay I don't have the heavenly five claws, but I've got three. That's good enough for low-tier royalty.

[Herabrine] Oh shut up.

[CP] - Endrea will already be there, she is one of my generals after all

[Doc] Huffs. - A pouch full of squeaking babies kinda takes away from the menacing air.

[CP] - Yes, but the other generals do keep their distance from her

[Doc] You're no fun.

[Herabrine] He let you knock Giselle's block off.

[Doc] mmmpph.

[Lie] - CP, who else should we have there?

[Doc] Any of the brines who want to come. I guess we should take some creepypastas too if you're sure they won't diss you in polite company.

[CP] - Yeah lets not

[Doc] Not even Splender? He'd love it.

[Lie] - I'm sure TLOT and Steve would like to be here...

[CP] - Especially not Splender...

[Doc] But.... it's the Nether....

[Lie] - Exactly why I said like to

[Doc] Wilts a bit- I bet Gem and Mix would come.

[Lie] - That's true

[Herabrine] GK will come.

[CP] - You guys keep talking, I'll be right back

[Doc] If I ask around some of the other brines might come too, even though I know they're busy.

[Lie] - Just thinking about all this is making me very nervous

[Herabrine] Why? All you have to do is let them put a hat on you and then wave at everyone.

[Lie] - And talk and not piss everyone off...  Well anyone who isn't already pissed...

[Herabrine] Fuck em. You're not going to be here 24/7 anyway

[Lie] - I also have to wear a fucking dress...

[Doc] I hate wearing dresses.

[Lie] - Yes well it seems like you'll be in your dragon form so you're getting out of that

[Doc] He doesn't want me to be. I offered. I think he just thinks I'll embarrass him....

[Lie] - I wonder who he was referring to when he mentioned someone able to make clothes...  I mean I know hos spider general can...

[Doc] Well...there is Trenderman.... I wonder what kind of disposition he has?

[Lie] - I don't know...

[Herabrine] He can eat my ass. I'm not wearing a dress.

[CP] Returns- So, are we heading back now?

[Doc] Yeah... Gods this has been a frustrating day... actually? Can you let me out of your fortress for a few minutes first?

[CP] - Sure, follow me- He leads them down to the main hall, large columns and towards the main doors which lead to a bridge which crosses what is essentially a lava moat.  Lie recognizes the path that she took to freedom in the past

[Doc] Thank goodness. Give me like five minutes. I assume no one is going to shoot at me?

[CP] - No

[Doc] Good. - Xe scrunches up and takes a long flying leap off the bridge and hits the lava with a tremendous splat.

[Herabrine] Yeah, someone is a little stressed...

[Lie] - CP?  What about Stevie?  Who will watch him during this or will he come with us?

[Doc] Breaches like a whale and sends a couple of blazes flying out of the lava on the resulting wave.

[Herabrine] Well it's not like you can bring Markus...

[CP] - Oh he will definitely be staying on the other server...

[Doc] Flips sideways and hits a wall to make a bunch of soul sand rain down into the lava.

[Lie] - I bet if Markus were to wear a disguise he could come if he wanted

[Doc] Does a bit of paddling on hir back and shakes hirself free of the glowing muck as xe rises up again and scuttles back onto the bridge. - Okay, we can go. I feel a little better now.

[CP] Makes an opening and gestures everyone through-

[Doc] zips through and flops on the grass.

[Herabrine] Well that was harrowing. Your seed is way too high-res Cp.

[CP] - Maybe for you, but not for me

[Doc] It's hard on us that aren't used to it CP. Hera came from an even lower-res seed then this one.

[CP] - Eh, you'll get used to it

[Doc] Rolls around in the grass. - So good to be home- xe starts tapping out a message. - Sorry Deerheart, we had to go to Cp's seed for a bit.

[Deer] - Understandable- Stevie's getting homesick for Lie's place

[Doc] Well bring the little squirt over.

[Deer] - Anyone else you want me to bring as well?  I'm sure there are things you want to discuss with TLOT...

[Doc] I'll talk to him when we both get home afterwards.

[Deer] - Alright, I'm coming over now

[CP] Stretches- I'll give Winston a couple days to get all the paperwork together

[Doc] Wiggles hir paws in the air. - This just feels too good. I used to chuckle at GK for rolling around in the grass, but I get it now.

[Deer] Arrives riding the Mudsdale with Stevie in front of her-

[Stevie] - Brother!

[Herabrine] Kicks Doc - When are you going to fix me you turd?

[Doc] Ow!

[CP] Can't help but smile a little at Stevie as he pulls him off the pokemon- Hey there

[Doc] Makes a happy purr at Cp's facial expression

[CP] Glares at Doc-

[Deer] - How was the trip?

[Doc] Most of Cp's generals are decent, some of them suck, and Herabrine puked.

[Herabrine] Kicks Doc again for good measure-

[Doc] OW DAMMIT.

[Stevie] - Brother, I'm hungry

[CP] - Then let's get you some food- Heads for the house