#while the zombies tries to figure out the chain of events

[spidermilkshake]

Instructions Unclear

More RE fanfics--more mutants, more corporate shenanigans. Finally, we have arrived on the day of RE2's events.

Rating: Teen (TW for blood, implied child neglect, significant violence, human experimentation, dehumanization, medical/lab settings and stuff, described injuries and gore, plus also human adults cuss like human adults)

Mr. X recovers from his error in the jail/basement area... and tries to make his mission turn to a positive note but, uh, that goddamn Umbrella controller implant seems to become an issue. Honestly, if Umbrella wanted a broad "kill everyone" creature, they ought to have chosen something else... a bunch of Hunter Alphas, perhaps? Or maybe the company has shitty communication, and the order DO diverge from what the handler does that much.

And finally... Claire Redfield! She's... not emotionally ready for this shit! But we love her for her trying anyways! And the style!

Instructions Unclear

Weakspot acquired.

            It came in the form of a crack and a leak in the outer foundation walls, pressed up to the slope of a storm drain along the western wall of the place. The spurt of incoming rainwater gave Mr. X the opportunity to mostly rinse the fresh gore from its right hand before it pushed sharply and found that a two-foot section fell outward with barely any effort.

            Shortly, a massive fist exploded up from the forgotten storm drain, opening up a hole wide enough for the gigantic bioweapon to squeeze himself out, back into the fetid rain still trickling on and off into the apocalyptic city streets. Snorting at water that ran down his heavily-grooved face, the Tyrant huffed for breath while on hands and knees a moment, gaze turning to inspect his dominant hand again. Small flecks of blood still clung to the creases between his fingers, and with a narrowing of his eyes he scraped these areas upon a rough corner of concrete rubble to be rid of them. Disgusting. Worse, shameful. Its aim had never been called into question before—nor had its temper. He had never thought himself a particularly angry Tyrant. With a deep sigh, Mr. X creaked up to his feet and blinked out over the mist of evening drifting through this side-courtyard. Ringed with chain link, the area was largely holding up and devoid of infected, with the exception of one crawling on its hands and… lack of knees along the outside edge of the fence, unable to coordinate or comprehend how to go either over or under the barrier.

            In a dim recognition, T-00’s pupils tracked a new movement from within the fenceline—small, keeping low like a preyed-upon animal, and crouching by one of the ornate windows, it moved… human-like. But so small. Human juvenile. This was not an R.P.D. target, not an infected creature.

            She stood up. Light-haired and light-skinned, and wearing a largely white and pale blue school uniform, she would have stood out in the damp, grim shadows even to a less enhanced onlooker. And she was holding something, turning it over and over in her tiny hands. Something deeply familiar.

            The child was on the verge of hyperventilating—having been dodging brutal death, climbing her way over fences and barricades ahead of snarling hordes, and trying all the 1st floor windows of the police station for hours—all after finding the main entrance and the parking garage barricaded shut. The fine-wooled, sleek-lined hat had thrown her off for a moment, wondering somewhat darkly if it had fallen from a detective who had not survived the assault of zombies in Raccoon City…

            She stood bolt upright at the series of wet, plodding footfalls behind her—as if a heavy hauling beast had figured out how to stand up and walk with human-like cadence.

            T-00 halted a few meters back from the child, remembering the lesson of his first introduction to such small people. He waited, watched, as she sensed the laserpoint eyes on her and flinched around. His hat was clutched tight in a two-armed grip as she backed into the brick windowsill—logically alarmed by the sudden appearance of the enormous man—easily twice her height and God knew how many times her weight—so close behind her in such a horrific scenario. She sucked in a deep breath, holding the hat in front of her now like a shield. Mr. X studied her, careful but inquisitive, pondering how to inform her that she had no enemy in him.

            “Hrmmm…” he rumbled, letting his eyes wander to the much-missed headgear, a heavy brow twitching up in interest. The girl slowly lowered the hat from obscuring her face, revealing features more clearly. Those visual indicators clicked into place. Sherry Birkin. The Tyrant could not believe his luck.

            He forced his movements to be soft, slow, and reached out his left hand. He held it slightly open, still quite a ways from being able to reach her, with the palm up—asking as politely as he knew how. The girl’s sharp eyes shot around, as if for help at first—and then settled on the large hand, and then the hat she held. The hand. The hat. Then, as much as she was frightened to, she studied the mutant’s grooved and gray-hued face.

            “Is…” she choked, sounding pitifully hoarse from her journey to reach here alive against the odds, “Is… th-this yours?”

            Mr. X blinked placidly, nodding. Finally. Someone who made sense. Someone who had some manners! And not a twinge of implant-based intrusion. Timid, Sherry took a babystep closer and just barely stretched out to put the hat into range of the giant fingers. Mr. X clamped his index and thumb shut, allowing her to retract her outstretched arm before lifting his precious hat back up. Brushing some lingering ashes from one of the peaks, he rumbled with satisfaction and settled it back where it belonged. Yes.

            “Are you a detective?” the girl’s question brought him back into the moment, and to his mission. The Tyrant’s mind raced to deduce a way to get across his lack of speech; bringing a hand up to his throat, he set two fingers across where his chin met his neck.

            “Oh… You can’t talk,” she sounded more than a bit disappointed at this, but bounced back with another question, “Can you help me… please? The gates are all down, I can’t get anyone to let me in, and my mom told me if things got bad I should go to the police station.”

            Her mother. That would be Annette Birkin; his eyes widened in realization. That Dr. Birkin was still in good standing with his masters, and so it certainly could not hurt to assist the tiny figure whether she held a G sample or not. The Tyrant took a pace closer and made a few soft, rapid nods, eyes scanning over the tall, decorated window and contemplating how to remove it as a barrier—or, if it was more advised to do so on a less zombie-infested level.

            Then, the Tyrant paused. Sherry Birkin—she should have something he needed for his mission. Either a dormant sample of the Golgotha Virus, or a keycode for reaching those samples. What no one knew, not even his superiors, was what she had which concealed that crucial item… He… was not very well-versed in it, but held out his hand again and made a few beckoning crooks of his massive fingers.

            “Umm…” Sherry danced lightly between her feet. Ready to run at all times—a necessary adaptation. “Y… You’ll help me?”

            Mr. X nodded. Of course. She needed help.

            “Are you like, a special agent or something?”

            He supposed that was a close enough description of his role, and replied with another short nod. She took a few more tiny steps towards him, locking eyes apparently without issue. Very brave. Another necessary adaptation.

            “Do you know where my parents are?” Sherry ventured, “I… haven’t seen them in days…”

            Mr. X’s eyes practically flew open, expression twisting with alarm far more automatically than was usual for him; this was… not adequate supervision of juveniles, but considering the circumstances, it was more likely a bad sign. He was bound to infiltrate the N.E.S.T. facility below Raccoon City eventually anyhow, and his best bet for finding either of the Birkins was there. The quarantining and the protective measures down there ought to be far better than in the common city buildings, so there was the hope that Annette was simply holed up below—able to survive but unable to leave that relative safety. Tentatively, he gave a slight nod, though Sherry obviously spotted the hesitation.

            “You’re not sure, are you,” the flat tone of disappointment had the Tyrant sucking in his breath like he was back in training, being swiftly corrected and redirected after an error. Reluctantly honest, the bioweapon’s gaze lowered even past her eye level and shook his head slightly. “Oh… well, I don’t know what else to do. I wanna find mom.”

            T-00 weighed his options over a deep inhale. Wherever the girl’s mother was in this viral hell, she would be much safer searching while in the shadow of a creature more dangerous than anything unfettered microbes could produce. If he took her to N.E.S.T. now, there was the best chance of reuniting her safely with at least one parent, all while being able to retrieve that primary objective… as for the secondary objective, he doubted if any R.P.D. officers were still alive—and the longer they were hidden in the chaos of their hidey-holes the less likely any would still be alive when he went back onto the task of hunting them. Including that young… pretender? Unaccounted for hire? Whoever. That young man, he’d pay. Eventually. His rage towards that one could take a far backseat in the face of this more vulnerable situation.

            Remembering a gesture which Mariposa had often encouraged from him, Mr. X reached out a hand with the palm upwards, relaxed—and low enough for the anxious girl to take hold of a few massive fingers. Sherry startled for a split-second, then reeled in her defensive panic and began to tentatively reach up to meet the gesture.

            A pulse crept from the base of his skull, down his spine.

            No.

            Perhaps the handler at the control servers had known better with regards to that hat-shooting bastard, but here… this impulse to kill truly defied logic. It defied emotion. It defied even… principle! The Tyrant’s blood froze as his offered fingers tensed hard as steel, tendons standing out like stony ridges with resistance to the implant’s command.

            Sherry had jerked back, intuition and a finely-honed survival skill warning her of the sudden change in the giant form, the enormous… man? Regardless, when the strangely gray, heavily grooved cheeks and mouth drew apart with a grimace that was almost like an electrical jolt of pain had shot through him—she scrambled back several feet and watched in horror as her one friendly encounter rapidly turned horrific.

            Mr. X’s left leg lurched awkwardly forward, displacing grass and mud out in a crater several inches wider than even his very-wide boot. However exhausted Sherry was, she was at least quick-witted and quick to act, bracing herself on the building’s wall to reduce the slippage on the wet ground and scurrying towards the back corner of the place. The Tyrant’s right leg now lurched further, the impulses from the control implant trying to force a run now. Without his cooperation, however, the living weapon’s footing slipped and he ended up splaying out onto all fours on the muck of the side-yard. Pulses shot through him in rapid-fire, forcing him after the child anyhow—first at a pitiful crawl before whoever was manning the server station developed another shred of patience, and with all the numbing jolts in its power the implant coordinated a return to his feet. Sherry was not as fast as even an adult human, but in this delay he was relieved to see she had already rounded the building’s corner in the direction of the parking garage.

            But… she had said that the entrances were blocked, hadn’t she? Mr. X snarled to himself as he fought the heavy, finesse-less plodding that Umbrella was puppeting him into. But then, she was small—she could break his line of sight, she could hide. So long as whoever was hijacking his body—and presumably his senses—could not see her or where she’d gone, she would be safe from him. With a deep, unhappy groan, he realized that he had been wrong. She would not be safest with the Tyrant in her shadow—at any moment, its pure force could be turned against her. Whether T-00 wanted it or not. There was a plug straight into its brain. A plug which promised vicious punishment if he resisted—and worse if he ever tried to unplug it. Umbrella had thought ahead, he grudgingly realized, even though the handler in the pilot’s seat was incapable of that.

            Rounding the R.P.D. to the back, Mr. X tried to force his gaze upwards to the third floor’s windows for a few long seconds—feeling a sharp ripp in the smaller muscles around his throat as the commands jerked his head back down. Stunned for a moment by the soreness and bruising spreading under his chin, he just barely registered Sherry ahead of him, slipping her legs down into a wide but shallow storm drain out of sheer desperation.

            Faster.

            Go faster, he willed her, as he stiffened every muscle group he still had partial control over and scowled in defiance. One stomp—two stomps—three. Rubble rattled over the concrete and the scraggly weeds poking out from the drain’s edges shook with the oncoming force.

            Sherry vanished from view into the depth. Mr. X bared his teeth, resisting for a few more seconds in the hopes she would have retreated too deeply for the one controlling him to bother. The deep sting of stress shot through his vast chest; there was no guarantee that she’d be safe there. But… she would be safe from him.

Damn this handler… As if to illustrate how poor of a person was in control of his implant’s connection, Mr. X felt his fist connect heavily with the top slab of the storm drain, splitting it in two with even the reserved force. How could a human—presumably—see a juvenile human in such a state and… decide to pull the trigger? Even the child of a colleague? Perhaps it was the “anonymity” of it. They felt nothing if one of their own bioweapons did the deed.

            But then… would that handler do the same if the weapon was unfeeling and inanimate? An attack drone? An automatic rifle? A hammer?

            …Maybe. Perhaps T-00’s inability to imagine it was no measure of humanity’s grimmer capacity—or a measure of the Tyrant’s paradoxically kinder one. He did not know enough to say, and if about this particular member of Umbrella staff, he did not care to know better.

            The pulses running through his major nerves began to weaken, and with a low grumble he rose and tore his attention swiftly away from the collapsed drain entrance. No need to give the damn handler any ideas; he fixed his attention instead on the awkward rear wall of the 2nd story—boiler room, steaming helicopter hole and all. There was an odd bump outward in which there were no windows, with a few particularly decorated, un-barricaded windows towards the east and around the corner. This was… the Chief’s office, if he recalled the R.P.D. floorplans correctly. He had yet to see any body—upright or not—identifiable as one Chief Brian Irons. It made sense to check there—if he was still alive at all.

            Dull-faced and morose, T-00 dug his powerful grip into the mortar gaps in the bricks and heaved himself up until level with one of these fancier office windows. Taking his trilby protectively to his chest, he shattered the glass using only his bare cranium—blood and glass spraying the lush carpet and the fur of an unwatchful bighorn sheep taxidermized and forever standing in the nearest corner. Once he had pulled himself indoors, he took a moment to tear one of the curtains—strangely intact curtains—from its fastenings and cleanse the thin spurts of blood from its scalp as the thin slashes closed themselves up. He tossed the fabric aside. His weight hardly caused a creak here. It was not just the comfortably lush carpeting, though that assisted. There must be structural integrity here already built in—perhaps associated with that elevator along the back wall, close to the projected N.E.S.T. entrance. Not quite. It was probably associated, and maybe even connected at some point. He made a note of it.

            Many pairs of eyes fixed onto him as he peered up to seek any inhabitants, and with a twitch the Tyrant’s entire frame went rigid with fright at the sudden surround. A beat passed. His shoulders slackened. These eyes… were even less alive than those of the cloudy, flailing zombies infesting the city, and yet somehow more unsettling. They looked too alive. A large beast—cat-like and almost as big as the Tyrant himself—snarled perpetually at something a few inches to his right. He did not know what it took to preserve corpses or tissues this exactly without the cryogenics Umbrella used, but whatever method had been undertaken here, it… rubbed him the wrong way. Something about the animals’ poses was… dishonest. They were dead. But their owner wanted them alive. Or… wanted to have them, as if alive. Or… instead of alive.

            Mr. X tried instead to focus on the various large furnishings, pulling open all the tall cabinets in case a hiding spot was within. He held still—ears trained to even the slightest shift. Irons may have other hiding places close to the elevator’s easy escape.

            There was a heavy rumble of machinery, and a few bassy scrapes of large architectural pieces sliding past each other in the hidden wall spaces just behind him. Below him. Almost exactly below. That would be… the main hall.

            Who would know of such an entrance—hidden in plain sight within the main hall—but Irons? Mr. X exhaled sharply and carefully squeezed himself through the door to the upper east hall. He tried not to think at all as he stumped at full power-walk to the main hall’s upper landing. Thinking hurt at the moment. He did not want to think of what the small girl might find in the water reclamation system—or even outside if she found her way out, with no one… and only rabid citizens, shambling on base instinct and viral imperative.

            The Tyrant snuffled and shook his head. More important to pay attention to what was ahead of him. As he took the grand staircase he spotted a figure fidgeting in front of the tall, elegant statue between the two wings of the steps, and whipped around the railing’s corner to close the final meters.

            This was not Chief Irons.

            He ground to a halt at the twelve-foot mark, brows cinching in with confusion. Definitely not Irons—not even from behind—this human was trim, red-haired. A woman. Young. She seemed to be nervously waiting on the rattle of movement from the statue’s pedestal to finish. Since she was so interrupted, she’d whipped about—the barrel of a grenade launcher of all things leveling at him, and promising much more difficulty than any of the simple pistols others had used on him. He watched the broad barrel closely, silvery eyes widening somewhat. Impressive weaponry for a civilian combatant… but not at all beyond what he had already met with in training. She had likely salvaged it from the station’s own armory lockdown.

            “Jesus…!” She hissed, but kept the grenade launcher’s aim level—right on his chest, “Stay back!”

            At the moment the Tyrant was quite happy to oblige. Shifting a bit from one foot to another, he took stock not only of her, but of what she had put in motion:

            The statue, grinding upon hidden tracks, was retreating into a hidden wall space. Perhaps the reason the rest of the wall spaces were so cheaply reinforced…

            “I mean it,” the heavily-armed woman warned, and most sharply as she adjusted her aim for center mass, “Fuck off!”

            T-00 took a short step back, eyeing—and sniffing—curiously. His memory lit up. It had been her, not the hat-defiler, who’d been active on the uppermost west hall. And she had apparently raided the police armory in the time prior, judging not only by the beast she had braced in both hands but the row of hip pouches, a revolver holster, and a shotgun strapped to various points on her shoulders and belt. There were already not very many women in the R.P.D., so it was not hard to disqualify her from that list after a swift study, but he stood tense. In the face of military-level gear, and military-grade pain, he feared the stupid, stupid whims of the handler at his control station so much more…

            The machinery she had activated was taking so damn long…

            “Who are you?” She shouted.

            The Tyrant now sniffed out of pure surprise. No one had asked him that question before. Who. It had been explained for him before, of course, when introduced… With Mariposa. He repressed a growl, trying harder not to remember. Not here. Not now.

            Mr. X distracted himself with a glare over to the base of the statue where now a plume of dust was rising as a segment of the flooring sunk down a stairstep’s depth just behind where this woman was standing. She jolted away to avoid tripping from the sudden sinking, but then focused back up on the colossal brute facing off with her. He blinked, his attentions flicking from her face to her weapon, to her stance—and to the still shaking floor at the base of the statue—before returning once more to the whole of her. Was it just him or did she seem barely older than juvenile, for a human? And yet, here she was, ready to fight not only the infected hordes of former citizens, but with a state-of-the-art bioweapon that outweighed her eight times over.

            “What do you want?”

            They both were alarmed by the question, and while the woman took the opportunity to back down the partially-formed steps, Mr. X stood transfixed. What did he want? To… complete his objectives, of course. To… eliminate surviving R.P.D. members, to retrieve the G-virus sample… to… urf. He had done very little of either, prompting an automatic flush of shame. He had been interfered with at every turn, and by his own masters it seemed. What… what did he want, then? If this were not happening?

            Mariposa stood in the verges of the pasture’s fenceline, giggling up at the sight of the flower-crown resting around the brim of his hat as he stood with an otherwise intimidating creak of leather and steel. The Tyrant produced a rumbling purr deep in his cavernous chest, eyes managing to smile slightly as he guided the girl safely back towards the garden, her tiny hand looped around just two of his fingers…

            Mr. X blinked. Nasty reality—and the barrel of the grenade launcher—faded back in. The Tyrant felt his lips purse slightly into a frown, eyebrows lowering as he was reminded of how he was working. Deployed. Loosed on the company’s targets, until the “job” was done, and recovery could be undertaken…

            …What if it was not?

            He blinked sharply. That was too much. He tilted his head instead, trying to examine what model of grenade launcher this person was aiming at his sternum:

            A GM-79. As far as he could tell, loaded up with a standard incendiary round—usually used by Umbrella response staff when infected subjects were loose. Why this police station possessed any stocks of these rounds, or even this weapon, was very unknown to him but could be guessed by its proximity to the main entrance to N.E.S.T. It was as if the R.P.D. had its ties to the Umbrella Corporation, entangled in its web of deals and arrangements…

            But then… why was his objective…?

            He cocked his head aside, obvious confusion to the tough-veneered, tensed woman aiming the quite nasty weapon. Perhaps, like before, he would allow the newcomer to the situation to decide whether she was going to be a problem, or was going to leave unharmed… though, here, was he not the newcomer? The last time he’d allowed a human to go about their business in his presence, he’d been shot. Then, had a terrible wrinkle-headed monster shred up his ear. Then been shot again. Then fell down a hole. Not an amazing history to work off of.

            And this woman, unlike the last, had every right to believe herself to be at the advantage. Best advised to fire away—even if only to deter any creature that pursued her escape, but… She held tension on the trigger, but held back. Her fit shoulders trembled, as if despite her strength she was already holding on to her last dregs of energy. The frantic, determined expression she wore was both exacerbated—and undermined—by whole-body shivers.

            She was not trained for such things. Not trained was the one feature that stood out most for Mr. X. She’d never aimed a killing blow at anything, not before today, in spite of whatever extensive firearms practice she’d had. Mr. X was torn between taking pity on her and admiring her steadfastness, and with a nearly infrasound-low rumble sidestepped to be slightly closer without seeming to be approaching. She wasn’t blind to this, and her grip on the launcher clenched tighter and she swiveled to track him. He stopped short, turned his torso away and matched her wide-eyed glare with an extra sprinkle of annoyed disdain. This standstill could not last—especially not as the last set of sinking stairs clunked into place, and an archway to a secret door was finally revealed with a downward spray of unseen dust.

            This. This seemed like one route into the N.E.S.T. complex, if there was any within the station itself. The woman had planted her feet and blocked the low arch into the narrow passage, still eyeing the Tyrant with no less strength training her aim onto the broad target.

            The Tyrant decided at last there was no benefit to sticking close while she was on edge. The longer he hung about a survivor between him and an objective, the longer he was giving his utterly wretched, incompetent handler a chance to force a pointless assault. With a low snort, T-00 tore his eyes away from the woman ducking into the secret passageway and began to tromp away back towards the frontmost counter area.

            “Wh—” she’d choked herself mid-word. It was probably obvious why; one does not square up with a nearly 8-foot monstrous humanoid being, using a grenade launcher, and ever expect to simply be let go. Behind her, the intermediate door had softly creaked and clunked open. And the Tyrant had just come level with the back of the main hall’s counter in its retreat.

            The pulses started weak, this time. Mr. X growled deep as he shuddered to a stop, frown furrowing his brows as far as the thick, striated skin would permit. He held still, limbs trembling like those of an overworked horse.

            No. Stupid. No! Why even was this compulsion coming to him so much weaker? Perhaps headquarters had sanctioned the handler. Perhaps the handler had simply reevaluated their tactics for ensuring obedience. He hoped for the former. But it seemed too soon.

            Stiff and jerky, T-00 was made to turn about. With a resistant groan, the Tyrant slowly began to be walked heavily back up to the mysterious opening the unknown woman had begun sneaking down. She had not taken her eyes off of him the whole while. Smart. He could appreciate that. He squinted tightly, seeing the grenade canister firing, centered on his solar plexus.

            It burst, and flooded out from his chin to his knees with fragmentary bits of the metal casing, followed right after by the infernal heat of the flammable compounds sparking and flaring up into the near-white register. Fortunately his Limiter gear was highly heat-resistant and fire-retardant, and while his skin was not exactly as resistant as the enhanced Kevlar, it did hold up far better than any human’s would under the splash of fire thrown up against it.

            That said:

            FUCK.

            OW.

            HURTS.

            The Tyrant buckled over, shielding its face with its forearms as best it could. He held his breath, sensing the heat would scour his innards if it even had the slightest chance to enter his lungs at peak temperature. Throwing aside the last smoldering fragments and poking his nose out into cooler, safer air, the Tyrant rebounded fast from the heavy ordinance. The implant’s pulses jabbed into its spine to pursue right away; with an awkward two steps he followed the frantically-reloading woman down the short stairs and into the small tunnel.

            Urgh. Tight space. So narrow, his pressure to follow had forced him to tilt his tremendous shoulders diagonal just to fit. Mr. X absolutely hated it, and gave every indication of the opinion in physicality and sound. But the pulses still forced him onward. Though perhaps the claustrophobia had helped his conscious resistance; it did give the woman the chance to fire one more fiery round straight down the passage to burst open against the beast’s bent knee. T-00 tucked his head towards the passage wall, throwing up both arms against the wave of flames shooting up towards his face.

            The woman took that chance at an elevator door, at the side of a small hexagonal chamber, jamming hard a few times on the call button before reloading another incendiary into her GM-79. A low grinding sound echoed up from below, the elevator car rising at not a snail’s pace, but something she dearly wished was faster…

            Mr. X doubled over, pawed at the regenerating stretches of outer skin on his throat and chin, twitching for a few seconds as the thick, rhino-like hide regenerated itself outward. In the span of about four seconds, it was as if he’d never been burnt at all… He tried not to be angry. The implant’s prodding was enough of goading him on with that added difficulty. Be angry at the foolish handler’s uselessness instead; her replies to what this handler was making him do was quite reasonable. If only the handler suffered the consequences…

            Emerging from the dying bursts of orange flame, Mr. X struggled to pursue the woman at only a slug-like pace, but was made to take on a tortoise-like one by pure stride length and nerve pulses. He hissed at the high heat, flicking a hand out to blow some aside with a deeply cranky noise as the handler went on pushing forward… Pushed, pushed. The woman heard the elevator make a muted “ding!”, and shot a look back at the indominable living weapon coming closer. She seemed to recognize that while the fire was hurting it, the broad and shallow damage was not going to do it for long enough that she could get that elevator out of his reach. She flung the grenade launcher back into the sluggishly-opening doors of the elevator and with a swish unholstered the shotgun strapped across one of her shoulders:

            “Shhrrr…” T-00 pushed back against the forward commands, feeling tiny muscular strands in his back and abs tearing against the graceless nerve spasms. Shit. Well. The opposite, really. Hopefully her aim was excellent, and not just okay. “Okay” would, if she pumped enough rounds his way, stop him long enough to stop this damn handler’s violent tirade.

            Excellent would stop him long enough—with minimal agony.

            BLAM.

            Mr. X was instantly winded; this was a higher-end, larger-gauge shotgun indeed. The one he’d heard being unloaded on the level above him before that odd provoking woman had led him into the wall spaces. If more of those long-tongued and skinless monstrosities were involved, no wonder he’d not encountered more of them. Aimed well enough, a shot from this would put one of those out of commission instantly.

            Staggering a few steps back, and stamping out a few bits of still-flaming matter, the Tyrant brought a hand up to his mouth. His… mouth. He’d felt sure he had intact lips before. His upper lip was rent in a large split with small tears close by, and his gums bled profusely through the holes. As disturbing as the discovery was, he could already feel the jaw, gum, and epidermis associated with the region heating up with the increased bloodflow—the tissues stretching, expanding, hooking and sealing back to their ordinary shapes with only a few trivial ounces of bleeding as a result. He spat a gout of loose blood to the side, shaking his head to clear the dizziness.

BLAM.

Another cluster of lead balls crashed into the right side of his head, ripping through his ear again in the process. The CRAK of the speediest missiles against his skull reverberated through his inner ear, staggering him another step. Still dizzy, the dull schlorp! of his most vital parts rejecting the embedded bullet fragments as his skeletal plates tactilely… popped themselves back into place along their cracks… urgh. Shreds of lead pellets dropped out to the floor as the bloody impact of the shotgun blast began regenerating inside-out. He felt again quite fortunate he had an empty stomach, given that sensation.

He wished he could back out. He fixed his (occasionally doubling) vision onto the woman, going rigid against the commands for as long as he could manage.

BLAM.

She did not hesitate, and with his consciousness growing weak he felt thankful for that. He instinctually caught himself as he slumped forward onto one knee, watching the blurry spurt of blood as one of his severed facial arteries spread a pint of deep crimson slurry onto the once-pristine white floor. He’d been damaged this much before, of course. In training. It was a mandatory part of it—to ensure the genes in charge of rapidly restoring any broken or battered flesh would kick into high gear at the proper times and not go wild otherwise. Much like the unlimited form tests, the strength tests, the stamina measures… this was… normal. This was normal. He could expect this, especially in the field.

Under the fog of half-consciousness, he distinctly heard the pneumatic swish and clunks of the secret passage’s elevator beginning to lower down into the depths. Wherever it went, Mr. X was silently pleased with the sound. She was away; the damn handler was foiled, proved wrong again. How many more, before this idiot recognized that he did not know better than the very specific objectives given to the Tyrant itself? Almost drowsy now, Mr. X let his eyes slide shut and his only movements for the next minute or so were the light twitches of his eyelids and fingers, and the raising and lowering of his massive shoulders as he fell into a steady breathing. He’d be well again, and soon. But whatever model that shotgun had been—he would remember it. Damn. She’d either chosen well, or been extremely lucky. Perhaps both, considering the other madly-powerful weapons she’d found…

A thud shuddered up from far below. Wherever she was bound, she was there now. Mr. X took another deep, recuperative breath. Soon enough, he’d be on his way, and hopefully (but regretfully) she would never figure into his deployment again.

[gloomyteddybear]

bleeding-heart dove

part 1 | part 2

U︶꒷ʊ`'꒦

your formal attire seemed to cooked you alive during the summer heat, dark clothes absorbing heat like tin-foil to a turkey. specially by the strain of biking your whole way to the apartment. creaking chains and cicada croons burrowing into your brain as you stare and pedal ahead like a zombie.

you wondered if the morticians would make you wear the same suit you wore during office hours into your own casket, would they put 'cooked alive' or 'karōshi' on your tombstone?

you trip while trying to hop off the seat, pant-suit sticking to the plastic and almost dropping the whole bike with you still on it. pushing it against the designed fence to lock one of the wheels on the metal bar, actually, you tried to lock, the thing refused to click in like the pieces weren't made to do what it was supposed to do.

your frustration seemed to cook you further, the chirping of cicadas slowly pitching into a shriek of tinnitus into your eardrums. you grit your teeth and sighed so hard your soul left your body, loudly enough to catch attention.

"... do you need help?" a quiet voice from the side of your vision hummed, the person just shy of your blind spot. 

you froze, then snapped your head to face him, neck unused to needing to raise your eye-level, although most japanese men weren't that tall, he looked lanky with his disproportionately long and thin limbs. like a stick figure or a stretched out kid-him.

"i... i have no idea what I'm doing wrong..." you faltered under his gaze, irises so dark they seemed like they belonged to duckling, despite it's almost innocent comparison, much like one they looked inhuman (he's functioning on base animal instincts).

he tilted his head, hair droopy with humidity following the motion and brushing his neck, previously tired eyes narrowing into something more scrutinizing.

"its mostly because of the way you're trying to fit them together, you're putting so much force that you end up accidentally pushing it sideways."

you tried to lock it more gently, it worked. you made a stupid 'o' face, it looked like you were trying to mimic a hyotokko comedy mask by memory.

"... i think you just saved my life." your face was grim and fist balled to your chest, like you actually owed your life to him.

"i don't think that's---" he fluttered, upturned beak-like nose scrunching as he grimaced.

"do you like drinking? i feel like this is a moment of celebration."

"i... we don't even know eachother." his posture was apprehensive, eyeing you from the side like a crow evaluating the hand that fed it peanuts. so cold!

you introduce yourself, first name first, "well... i live here, i'm pretty sure you also live here. so think of it as a neighborly celebration," you beamed at him with naive enthusiasm.

"i..." his iciness melts slightly, "i am onodera, are you really sure?"

"well, onodera-no-first-name-kun don't worry it's on me, unless... you're a lightweight?" you smugly question him.

... he ended up hauling your drunk ass back to your apartment. you knew that because he was sitting under your (powered off) kotatsu explaining last night's events, describing all the humiliating things you did in a surprising amount of detail.

you felt like slamming your forehead on the nearest wall from embarrassment. he must have wings for putting up with your drunk bullshit.

you groaned, "man i did that?... i'm so sorry you had to babysit me." back facing onodera-san as you cube an apple, occasionally moving back and forth to stir the bubbling pot of box-curry on the stove.

"it's fine." he acted like he was the one at fault. you think you saw him, from the corner of your eye, nervously grip the blanket of the kotatsu closer into his lap. poor thing is embarrassed.

"then why are you avoiding eye contact with me?" you teased, not even giving him time for an answer before getting distracted again, "oh, i forgot to ask, do you also like apple in your curry?"

you believe that one of the walls of his barrier cracked once you saw that his mouth favored one side when smiling, "that... sounds nice."

he has a sweet tooth.

you had grown used to him, he was quiet, seemed like the type of kid to flock after his friends like a migrating bird but somewhat goofy at times, occasionally oversharing (an understatement).

he wanted to be a scientist, then an astronaut, then a co-writer with sachi (you have no idea who that is)---of which he somewhat managed, but yet to pitch the idea to be published.

then, he got really depressed after the concept was rejected, and disappeared after the face of the earth, you thought he went into a bender, but it has been almost a week without a single trace of him.

a number called, "sachi," she introduced herself, swore to you she checked his apartment, and he was gone, he didn't answer any of his calls either so she called yours(you never told him what it was... maybe the previous landlord gave him? they seemed close)

you think your heart dropped at the news. he was depressed, a recluse but you didn't think it was ' literally-disappear' type of bad. sure you were concerned but you were too trusting in the nature of a hikkikomori to not leave, because at least you knew where to find him (and how easy it'd be to recover his body).

as soon as you got the news you spent so much time trying to convince the police to track him down but they were busy with some robbery case that happened not too long ago. they think they're connected.

enough time passed for him to be basically considered dead, you just stopped asking, staying slumped in your sofa and waiting for some officer to legally pronounce him dead the day they finally look into the case.

you stared at your ceiling, tired but unable to sleep (god you hate your nymphomaniac neighbors), you heard a knock at your door.

you unlocked it, expecting 'sachi', maybe a volunteer, maybe an actual 'useful' cop who was willing to fake regret and sadness to inform that it was a cold case.

but you weren't expecting him to metaphorically rise from the dead.

"onodera?" you had barely recognized him, shocked enough to drop the '-kun'.

he wore a striped shirt and a cardigan-jacket, his whole outfit looked straight up grey from under the darkness. his hair looked like dripping ink, leaving straight but crooked lines on the blank that was his skin.

but there, barely visible under his slick hair, the eye that wasn't wrapped in barely-kept-together gauze looked like it was stolen directly from an abandoned toy by how soulless it seemed.

"i..." you tried to speak, but he raised a finger to his lip. the few stray hairs that sticked up made the shadow that he cast upon you have horns.

your reflection in his remaining eye smiled. a sweet but horrible smile. you weren't smiling, though. but it seemed to warp your face into one anyway.

"if i were your boyfriend. i'd do anything to take care of you. i'll love you forever and ever, and i'll never think of anything but your happiness." he vowed, it was monotone, like he was reciting something someone told him from memory.

you hesitated, "... what is this about?"

"if i told you everything, would you make me forget about aiko?" he pleaded.

"who's aiko?" your stupid mouth just had to ask.

you immediately regretted asking that, but onodera only smiled. you felt as small as the smiling reflection in his eye.

"doesn't matter, okay?" he grinned with symmetrical dimples at the corners of his lips, fake fake fake "let's just... run away together, maybe just to another planet altogether. just the two of us." 

you were so weak for his smiles (even if artificial), so trusting of him despite not knowing him, like a domesticated dove.

[writer-of-various]

The Giant / Transcript

Several views of the Der Riese factory is seen, as Ludvig Maxis is heard screaming.

Maxis: Edward, what are you doing!? Open the door! Edward! Open this door now!

Views of gears within a machine are seen, while Maxis tries to comfort his daughter.

Maxis: Stay by me, Samantha!

Samantha: Dad...

Ultimis Richtofen: Goodbye, Dr. Maxis.

The clock outside the facility slowly strikes 1:15 while a distortion is seen around, then the clock freezes. The area begins to snow. The view changes to a close-up of Ultimis Edward Richtofen, as he laughs maniacally.

Suddenly, a sound of a gun being cocked is heard from behind him. He turns back and sees the Primis "Tank" Dempsey.

Dempsey: This ain't funny, Doc.

From behind, Primis Nikolai Belinski, Lilja Alekov-Roze, and Takeo Masaki, step up. All four aim their guns at Richtofen.

Nikolai: Turn around.

Takeo: Slowly.

Ultimis Richtofen slowly turns toward the four of them.

Ultimis Richtofen: Do you know... who I am!?

Dempsey: Yeah, we know. That's why you'd better do exactly what we say.

Nikolai: A great evil approaches. There is a chain of events that must be set in motion.

The sound of zombies screeching outside catches the four's attention. Dempsey and Nikolai turn around, ready to face the horde.

Takeo: (to Richtofen) The future hangs by a thread. You must awaken the test subjects.

Lilja: Don't do something you'll regret, doc.

Nikolai stands guard near a barrier, while Dempsey readies his dual pistols. Takeo slowly draws his katana, still staring at Richtofen. Lilja turns around to help Dempsey and Nikolai. The camera switches to views of the teleporter behind Richtofen, then quickly turns black.

Zombies begin to break through the barrier, but are stopped by Nikolai, Dempsey, Lilja and Takeo. Richtofen then begins to activate the teleporter.

Dempsey: Richtofen! Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't do it!

Nikolai: You do not want to meet what's on the other side of that door!

Takeo: You cannot begin to comprehend the great evil you could unleash!!

Lilja: Edward, listen to us!

Ultimis Richtofen ignores the four's warning, and pushes the button immediately. The teleporter slowly opens, revealing a bright white light inside. He slowly steps forward the teleporter, his face showing excitement.

A figure then steps out of the teleporter, and is revealed to be Primis Richtofen, which stares at Ultimis Richtofen angrily. Ultimis Richtofen takes off his hat and holds it close to his chest. Primis Richtofen quickly pulls out an MR6 and shoots the Ultimis Richtofen in the head, killing him instantly.

Dempsey: Dammit Richtofen, I thought we were done with this!

Richtofen checks on his other self's corpse. This moment cannot be fully seen. It was first assumed Primis Richtofen uses the moment to capture his soul with the Summoning Key, however that turned to be false as Richtofen's soul was captured in Dimension 2210. Regardless, Dempsey is certain he observed Primis Richtofen messing with the corpse and holding something against it.

Richtofen: What can I say, Dempsey? Things change.

Lilja: Dammit Richtofen!

Nikolai: Only a fool would dare to change history!

Richtofen walks pass Nikolai, with Nikolai following Richtofen, before the five line up side by side as they ready their weapons.

Richtofen: I am no fool. What I do... I do only to secure a better tomorrow.

Dempsey: Yeah? Well, let's see if we live to see it.

As the zombie horde approaches the five heroes, they leap into the air and charge at the zombies. Takeo, leading in front, swings his katana at the screen, as it turns to black.

[caithyra]

Cousin in the North?

So, GRRM has said that the characters will end up more or less in the same positions in ASoIaF as they did in GoT. If you’ve seen me in other fandoms you know what that means...

Random Theory Time! (Or: How Sansa ends up ruling most of Westeros in the books, maybe?)

So, when Robb is looking at the chain of inheritance, Catelyn suggests distant cousins in the Vale of Arryn. Anyway, turns out Lord Frey is the biggest FoBzilla there ever was and now Sansa Stark is considered the only legitimate Stark alive (no one in the North believes Jeyne is Arya ffs, they watched these girls grow up! All that’s needed is for the Starks’ bannermen to be called and they take one look at Jeyne, who is the wrong age and presumably not with a long “horse-face” or she wouldn’t have thrown so many stones in that glasshouse, and boom).

Here’s the thing: Sansa Stark is not just the last legitimate Stark. She is also first cousins with the young and sickly Lord of the Vale and the niece of the dethroned Lord of the Riverlands, which is currently going through a famine in a ten-year winter, while the Vale’s granaries and larders are so full they might burst.

Yes, Edmure has a baby, but this is Westeros; if grown women like Minisa, Joanna, Lyarra and rest are dropping like damselflies, I fully expect kids under the age of 3 to drop even faster, and Edmure was probably traumatized over the whole Red Wedding thing and not in the mood to lay with his Frey wife (if the High Septon doesn’t go “weddings are not massacres!” and annuls it for a tidy sum that may or may not have the prints of “small” fingers on it). Alternatively, if Edmure dies and baby dies after him, Sansa would inherit from a cousin in the Riverlands as well.

Things Catelyn says/wants sometimes comes true (see wanting to keep Bran in the North before his fall, and then he even goes further north!). She talks about inheritance, cousins, the North and the Vale.

And the gods, whether they’re the Seven or Old, listen to Sansa’s wishes/curses at times, and Sansa wanted Harry the Heir thrown by his horse (depending on when it happens, that’s a guaranteed trampling, maybe even by several horses, sometimes not very survivable, it could also happen on the side of a mountain on a trail, even, and, well, the Moon Door is a death sentence for a reason).

What if Sansa wont be Queen in the North?

What if she will become the Queen of the Northern Kingdoms? The North, the Vale and the Riverlands?

Heck, we have the “Younger, more beautiful, Queen”-prophecy and Jaime’s quest for honor, so lets thrown in the Westerlands as well by the Western bannermen abandoning Cersei after Tommen/Myrcella’s deaths (maybe she flees King’s Landing for Casterly Rock and opens the gates to Greyjoy in exchange for becoming his wife and instead ends up a saltwife?), and going to swear fealty to Jaime, because by now the world is upside-down enough and they don’t care about some silly Kingsguard vows he already broke in the most spectacular way possible (also, they all seem to like him, so...).

Except, he pledges his sword and shield to Sansa Stark. Basically becoming her bannerman. Which makes his bannermen, her bannermen, too.

Tywin: “Muhahaha! I shall steal the North via Sansa Stark by forcing her to marry my most hated child!”

Sansa: *Yoinks the Westerlands and his favorite child from underneath his most successful child’s feet by playing much fairer than him.*

"Queen you shall be . . . until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear."

“Dear” -> Jaime’s loyalty, the adoration and fealty of the kingdoms, queen in her own right without having to marry, is called beautiful the most in the books, would get Casterly Rock through either her marriage to Tyrion or by Jaime’s vow, as well as under the tutelage of Littlefinger becomes the Queen of the Chessboard of the Game of Thrones.

Heck, with Brienne of Tarth and the Baratheons dying out, lets add the Stormlands as well!

Though those are an even longer shot, since it wouldn’t have poetic justice behind it (on the other hand, Joffrey Baratheon abused her and Stannis Baratheon wants to steal her birthright, hm...).

Basically, we don’t know who Brienne’s mother is, but she could be a Baratheon aunt, which would make Brienne next in line! ^_^ How fun! Okay, we’ve got 5/7 kingdoms now...

The Reach will probably devolve into civil war because the War of the Five Kings is pretty much half-exported from the Reach (Hightowers/Tyrells supports Renly and Joffrey and Tommen, while the Florents support Stannis, via their queens, Selyse and Margaery). Depending on how destroyed the Tyrells are, and how busy the Hightowers will be with the Greyjoys, it might end up becoming a three-way within the Reach’s borders alone.

The Iron Islands might end up swearing fealty to Sansa to pay for their transgressions through Theon and Asha, or this will be the conflict that finally gets rid of the cockroaches that should never have survived this long with their stupid culture...

Dorne will probably remain independent.

The Crownlands will burn with wildfire, but from the ashes the shoots of a new spring might grow...

Okay, so Iron Islands and the Crownlands! There, Seven Kingdoms of the North (of the Reach and Dorne). Okay, so those were a reach, but eh! This is Random Theory Time! Strict logic and accuracy need not apply!

And so you have witnessed the birth of The Queen of the Northern Kingdoms Theory. Move over BoltOn, Varys the Little Mermaid, Septa Lemore and the rest! There’s a new Queen in the North! Lol.

[jodiereedus22]

Mirage

A/N: Here I am, posting! I don't even want to know how long its been since I posted anything, I am so sorry, motivati9on has been hard to com by. but I have a piece for you now! thank you @crossbowking for the amazing support and I want to thank @fxlminare she got me motivated to do this piece, she is amazing!!!! 

I hope you enjoy!!! <3

Word Count: 2165

You awoke suddenly to the sound of your alarm going off, you rubbed your tired eyes as you rolled over to switch it off.

You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling, for some reason you were confused, and you didn’t know why - maybe you had a dream last night and couldn't remember it.

You shrugged it off, turning your head to the side, seeing a soundly sleeping Daryl. His chest rising and falling gently, his hair draped over his face making his closed eyes hard to see, you smiled to yourself, the alarm clock had always been for you, Daryl could sleep through anything.

You gently got out of bed, putting on a robe and headed downstairs, you had a lot to get ready for today – but first, it was time to get breakfast started.

You started with the bacon, then some eggs, then got started on the pancake batter when you heard footsteps behind you and suddenly a pair of hands wrapped around your waist, placing kisses on your neck.

“Hmm, somethin’ smells good,” Daryl said in a sleepy gruff voice, you groaned as he kissed your neck some more, holding you more tightly.

“Why did I wake up to a cold bed?” Daryl asked, whispering in your ear as you tried to concentrate on cooking the breakfast.

“Well someone has to get up around here, or nothing would get done,” you joked, laughing as Daryl went over the top kissing you more.

“Eww, that’s gross!”

“Do you have to do that over breakfast?” Your son said as he and your daughter walk into the kitchen.

“Lucas, Mia, you want us to stop? Go set the table,” you bribed your kids as you laughed, and Daryl let go of you to help.

You finished cooking the breakfast and served it up. Sitting and eating, laughing with your family.

You took a moment to look at your families smiling faces, realising how lucky you were to have such a perfect family.

As everyone finished up their food you got to cleaning as everyone else went to go get ready, giving your children kisses as they headed up the stairs.

Daryl came down first, dressed in a blue button-down shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, black jeans and nice black shoes.

“Looking good Mr Dixon,” you admired, your eyes travelling up and down his body as you bit your lip in approval.

Even after all his time and 2 children together, Daryl getting embarrassed was always the sweetest and endearing thing, as he looked at you with a blush upon his cheeks.

You walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“I'm gonna get ready. Will you get everything into the car? Everything is in the fridge.”

Just then Mia and Lucas came bounding down the stairs.

“Well look at you both, all dressed up and clean,” you smiled walking up to them, placing a kiss on both their foreheads.

“Can you both help daddy put everything in the car while mummy gets ready please?” you asked as they got to helping Daryl load the car.

You headed to your room to get ready, you put on a simple floral dress that landed just above your knees, you put on some flat sandals knowing you were going to have to play with the kids at some point. You put on some simple light makeup, knowing anymore would make you melt in the Georgian heat.

Coming down the stairs you could see the hustle and bustle of everyone getting everything in the car, popping in and out of the house, picking up random items to pack into the car when Daryl stopped dead in his tracks, staring directly at you.

Daryl stood there in silence, in awe at your beauty as a blush came across your cheeks at the look in his eyes.

“You look pretty mommy,” Mia exclaimed coming up to you, wrapping her arms around your middle giving you a nice big hug.

“Thank you sweetheart,” you thanked her, hugging her back and leaning down to place a kiss on the top of her head.

“You really do Mrs Dixon,” Daryl walked towards you, the same look of awe in his eyes as he took you into his arms. You placed your arms around his neck, your hands playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, smiling and staring back into his beautiful Georgian blue eyes.

“Oh really?” you teased.

“Really,” Daryl leaned down and captured your lips with his, closing your eyes, getting lost in his kiss, Daryl’s kisses, no matter the reason for them, were always perfect, they were a balm for your soul.

You got interrupted by Lucas making disgusted noises behind you.

You and Daryl looked at each other with smirks on your faces, finding your sons embarrassment amusing.

“Alright. Come on. Let’s get going?” you called out to everyone as you call clambered into the car.

The journey was short, sharing laughs and admiring the countryside, you were there in no time.

As soon as you stopped the kids jumped out of the car, heading to the garden where they could hear the other kids having fun, as you went to the trunk to grab all the food to take inside.

“Here, take this, give it to Rick,” you handed him a bottle of wine, knowing he was eager to see his best friend.

He took the bottle of wine, placing a kiss on your cheek as he made his way into the party.

You and Daryl had been friends with Rick Grimes for a very long time, and every year he hosted a BBQ for everyone with his wife Lori who was now pregnant, and their son Carl.

Carol always came with her daughter Sophia. Maggie and Glenn came with Maggie’s sister Beth and their father Hershel. T-Dog and Andrea also joined.

Everyone had a great time at these, everyone brought food and drink, some brought things for the kids to play with, it was a great catch-up session for adults and a fun time for the kids.

You made multiple trips from the car to the kitchen until everything you brought was set up. you then made your way outside to greet with everyone, finding Daryl with Rick you walked over to join them.

Standing next to Daryl he placed an arm around your waist as you looked around the party seeing your kids playing with Carl and Sophia, being so close in age, it was always lovely to see them having such fun together.

You did your rounds, catching up with everyone, having a laugh, sharing food, drinks and stories, enjoying yourself.

You thought to yourself how lucky you were to have such an amazing family in Daryl and your kids, but also an amazing extended family in everyone else who was at the party.

With the party in full swing, you went inside the house to grab some more food, looking out the window onto the beautiful fields and trees that surrounded Ricks house, when you saw a figure from afar, he was walking funny, like he was drunk. It filled you with a sense of dread, but you had no idea why when gunfire in the house drew your attention in panic.

Running in the house, you saw all the kids sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing? You asked, slightly panicked.

“Watching a movie,” Carl answered. You looked at the tv to see them watching some kind of zombie movie with guns going off every minute.

“Come on guys, its summer, go out and play,” you said with a sigh of relief, your dread dissipating slightly.

“You can watch it another day,” you said as you walked up the tv set and turned it off, herding the kids back outside to play.

But that man outside, stumbling around, still set you on edge.

You went back to the window to see where he was, but he was nowhere to be found, it's like he had just vanished in thin air, considering the space around Ricks house is fairly open.

You took a minute to pause, taking in a breath, you decided to shake it off and go back into the party and enjoy yourself.

So, you tried to do just that, you carried on your afternoon with everyone but in the back of your mind there was still this creeping feeling, it felt like you were being buried alive, the weight slowly getting heavier on your chest.

You tried to concentrate on the here and now and what was happening around you, knowing there was no rational reason for you to be feeling this way when Daryl calling your name pulled you out of your thoughts.

You turned your head from the group of people you had spaced out on, having a glance around the party trying to pinpoint Daryl, when you saw him talking to Carol.

You broke away from your little group and headed in Daryl's direction.

“Did you call me?” you asked Daryl as you reached him and Carol.

“No, why?” Daryl answered, causing you to furrow your brow.

“Ya a’right?” Daryl asked placing a hand on your arm in a gentle, loving way.

“Yh, I'm just … I’m,” you stuttered not knowing what to say, confused at the chain of events, confused at your feelings.

You started walking backwards away from Daryl when a wave of heat came over you, starting to make you panic.

You turned away from everyone for a minute, trying to catch your breath.

When you turned back around everyone was staring at you. Everyone was silent, no one said anything as they stood motionless, staring without blinking in a disturbing manner.

You then realised they weren’t wearing the same clothes, they were dirty, covered in blood, holding weapons. Rick looked as though he had a colt python, glancing over at Daryl as he held a crossbow.

The more you looked the more familiar it felt, but it still didn’t make any sense. It didn’t fit.

You tried to blink away the feeling, taking a second to close your eyes, steading yourself, but when you opened your eyes it was like nothing has happened and just like that the party went on, all back in their own clothes, no weapons in sight.

The confusion sent you dizzy, the colour drained from your face. What was happening?

“(Y/N) … (Y/N),” you heard Daryl calling out your name, but as you looked over to him, his lips weren’t moving.

“(Y/N), (Y/N)! Wake up!” you heard Daryl again when a huge wave of dizziness came over you as you stumbled backwards.

Your body started falling to the floor, but you never felt yourself meet the floor instead you found yourself sitting up, gasping for breath in a bed that you recognised and a face you recognised as Daryl's, but you weren’t in a lovely clean, bright house.

You were in the prison, you remember now, everything came flooding back. You had gotten ill; you must have fallen unconscious.

“Hey, hey, you’re back, you’re okay,” Daryl reassured you, placing a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Yh, I'm fine, it’s just, I had the weirdest dream,” you told Daryl.

Even though you were still alive, and Daryl was right by your side, you couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment that your dream wasn’t real. Remembering the world how it was now, the dead rising, the hunger, the death, you would have given anything for your dream to be real.

Daryl climbed in bed with you as you told him all about your dream in as much detail as you remembered.

“Two kids huh?” Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin.

“Yh, Mia and Lucas. It’s so weird to talk about them, they’re not real, they don’t exist. But they felt so real,” you said with sadness in your voice.

“Hey,” Daryl got your attention, placing a finger on your chin to turn you towards him.

“Just because it ain’t real now, don’t mean it won’t be one day,” Daryl revealed, making you smile.

“You think so?”

“Yh, in the future, maybe we’ll find a better place than this. It could happen,” Daryl revealed.

This was a complete surprise to you. You knew Daryl's past, you knew his childhood, children were something you thought Daryl would never be able to bring himself to have - out of fear he’d turn into his father.

“You want kids?” you asked surprised.

“I didn’t’ think I did, ‘til I met ya,” Daryl confessed.

“I love you so much Daryl,” you told him, snuggling deeper into him, enjoying his warmth, his scent.

“I love ya too (Y/N),” Daryl reciprocated, holding you tight in his arms, placing a kiss on the top of your head as you both drifted into a peaceful deep sleep, both dreaming of the future you hoped one day you could both have together.

 Taglist: @fxlminare @crossbowking @viraloutbreakcontrol @coffee-obsessed-writer @bluesfortheredj @shutupimtryin2write @fearthewalkingbitch @selenedixon @cbarter @cole-winchester@alyisdead @hopplessdreamer @infinitewcr @blogsporadicartist @mtngirlforever @sassi-luna  @twdsunshine @momc95 @emo-potato-virgil @sourwolf-sterek32 @tatertot1097 @wilhelmjfink @coffeebooksandfandom @twdeadfanfic @cutiepiemimi13 @kickin-with-dixon @feartheendlesssummer @twdeadlysins @apocalypse-haven @baseballbitch116 @trashcanband4 @mblaqgi @addiction-survivor25 @mel-2a @spaghettyrogers @xxboesefrauxx  @sapphire1727 @little-miss-mischief1 @wontlookaway @bunnymother93 @auntiebyn @saintsisterwriter @theunofficialduke @lilo-1988 @imaginecrushes 

[robinofinashiro]

“turn it up it’s your favorite song / dance, dance, dance to the distortion / turn it up keep on repeat / stumbling around like a wasted zombie / yeah we think we’re free / drink, this ones on me / we’re all chained to the rhythm 

pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem! reader

request status: CLOSED

note: i start my semester this tuesday so like BIG SAD but I swear I’ll try and not fuck with my posting schedule or go IA for weeks at a time. i’ve also been having a lot of AoT reqs and as much as I love them, I get tired of writing for it all the times.

a few of the heroes were called in for some meeting regarding a hero incident that happened a few weeks back. you weren’t actively apart of the situation when it initially happened, however; they had called all younger pro heroes to a conference to go over some protocols and new rulings. 

you hadn’t been a hero for long, working under a few smaller heroes until the Symbol of Peace caught onto you. you weren’t working under a huge agency at the time, so when All Might called for you to transfer agencies, detecting that you had more potential under him, you immediately moved. 

it wasn’t an unknown secret that you were connected to him. although you weren’t exactly what many people thought when they thought of All Might having a ‘sidekick’ or intern, they could see it in your fighting style how much you learned from him. 

the charisma, the change in personality, everything changed about how some thought of you. you were more willing to talk to the media, happily attended events for kids, and a smile never left your face. All Might was proud to see your change as he realized that you had finally grown into the hero he knew you would become. 

you tapped at the notebook sitting in front of you, hoping that they called the meeting early. you hadn’t gotten enough sleep for the past few days, thinking that all of you were in trouble for the incident. every now and again, you would hear the winged hero laugh or crack a joke about something and it started to grow more and more annoying. 

the downside of constantly working at All Might’s agency was that you hardly had any downtime. you weren’t exactly close to many heroes or even associated yourself with them considering AM’s agency limited the heroes they took in and at the moment, it was really just you and another older hero that worked in it. 

“( your hero name ), you’re ranked in the top five, why don’t you give us a run down on how you approach the media in a kid friendly way?” 

your eyes widened, not realizing that he was speaking to you directly. you took a gulp before looking at all the heroes, “well, I guess you just have to make sure you don’t overwhelm the media with something that’s over exaggerated and dramatic. when trying to speak to a younger audience, you have to be a bit soft spoken, smiling constantly, and assuring them that they’re not in any danger. I know as heroes, it’s hard to remain calm in a scary situation but reaching the kids and having them able to listen to you can even calm yourself down,” you explained, “keeping kids safe should always be a priority because they can set a precedent for heroes.”

the heroes stared at you, some in a deadpan way, others a bit mesmerized. they could sense the All Might vernacular coming out of you but to a specific hero, they could see the way you were nervous around your peers. 

Hawks knew about you. it was hard not to hear of All Might’s current pride and joy. he saw your interviews when they came on the news but the one thing that stuck out to him was how you hardly ever came around other heroes when down time actually presented itself. 

you were very private with your personal life, something that rivaled Edgeshot. your personal life wasn’t very out there and it wasn’t like you tried to hide it because you could have cared less but whenever you did have down time, you were usually at home asleep or catching up on something else. 

finally, you sat down, staring down at your notebook again as you tried to wipe your hands on your uniform pants. seeing all those eyes on you made your hands get sweaty and clammy. 

the meeting ended not long after your small lecture and although you didn’t have anything to do after this, you were rushing to get your things together and leave before anyone that wasn’t the media caught up with you. however, that wasn’t exactly what you got. 

“hey! ( your name )!” you heard Hawks’ voice call out for you. you stared at ground, wondering what the hell he could want from you. you waited for him to catch up, “hey, you okay?” he asked, a smirk playing at his face. 

your eyebrows fluttered in confusion, “yeah, why?”  you whispered. Hawks shrugged, “just saw you getting nervous back there,” he mentioned. 

you didn’t know how to respond but you slowly started to walk towards the entrance doors, hoping he would leave you before the media rushed everyone walking out. 

“I got a bit nervous seeing everyone looking at me, that’s all.” “but you’re around the media all the time?” “Hawks, do you have anything to ask me? I’m just not used to being around people my age.” 

he saw the slight anger rise in you but decided not say anything as you gave him one final look before walking out of the door and being rushed by camera’s and reporters. a smile instantly hit your face as reporters asked you questions about the conference and overall general questions about work. 

Hawks knew that he could probably get an earful from you for what he was about to do but as he walked out of the doors, he went over to the cameras that you were talking too and gave them a huge smile as he put his arm around your shoulders. 

“good afternoon everyone!” he said happily as he saw your face contort to confusion and slight fear, “Hawks! are you friends with her? maybe even more?” one of the reporters asked as Hawks gave them a hearty laugh and waved them off. 

“nah, we’re just really great friends, isn’t that right?” he asked you. you remained wide eyed and silent, not knowing what to say, “we were just talking about going out for a friendly date and had to get confirmation from her,” he told them. 

you finally snapped out of it, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I gotta go! I’m due at my agency no later than three and I’ll be late if I don’t head out now,” you told the reporters before taking his arm off you and basically darting in another direction. 

the reporters looked at Hawks as he quickly recovered and talked to them a bit before telling them goodbye. Hawks had no idea that you were going to get that flustered over the small prank, realizing that he might’ve gone a little too far with it as you were no where in sight anymore. 

+

you got back to the agency, seeing a few of your coworkers looking at you were a smirk on their face. they instantly pointed to the TV’s, showing you the extremely failed interview you had with Hawks not even a few minutes ago. 

“so did you say yes to that ‘friendly’ hangout?” one of them asked. you groaned, your head hitting the wall, “no, what do I look like hanging out with the number two hero? you know I don’t really make unannounced public appearances to begin with.” 

your coworker laughed, seeing your nervous expression. 

“come on, you’re like the hardest worker in this damn agency! you could take one weekend off and enjoy it for fucks sake.” 

you shook your head no but before you could say anything, you saw All Might enter the agency. you instantly bowed as he waved you off. 

“he’s right you know. ever since you transferred to this agency, you haven’t had a day off and it’s high time you take a weekend off for yourself. enjoy your youth while you still have it.” 

“All Might, you know I’m a very in demand hero, I can’t just take off a week-,” All Might cut you off with a slap to the back of the neck, “trust me, we’ll be okay for a weekend. I know better than anyone how it is to run yourself into the ground. take this weekend off and relax.” 

you knew it was best to not continue arguing with your boss and silently agreed before heading to your office to finish up some paperwork. you had no idea what you were even going to do for this weekend. all of your errands, aside from getting groceries, were done and you were sure that Hawks probably didn’t mean what he said earlier. 

your clock out time hit and you huffed, telling all of your coworkers that you would see them again on Monday. they could tell you were reluctant on leaving them for so long but the break didn’t sound so bad to them considering you worked around the clock, 24/7 for them. 

as you got to your car, you figured you might as well make your own dinner since you couldn’t even remember the last time you did that. the only thing stopping you was that you hadn’t brought a change of clothes so you were practically stuck wearing your uniform to the store. 

the grocery store was a bit farther out of the city. when picking a home, you had decided to go out and choose something that wasn’t in the middle of town. you wanted some peace of mind when you got done working and choosing a home a few miles out was your perfect idea. 

once you walked inside of the store, you were happy to see that it wasn’t exactly packed. a few people here and there but most of them just waved or asked for a quick photo before letting you get back to what you were doing.

“hi, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of where I would find you dairy free options?” you asked one of the workers. she smiled, pointing over to the aisle a few sections down. you thanked her, walking over the aisle when you realized you had ran into the last person you expected, “ohoho, funny finding you here,” you heard the winged hero say.

you nodded, pointing to the soy milk, “yeah, All Might gave me the weekend off because of the ‘prank’ you decided to pull earlier today,” you murmured, grabbing the two cartons of milk. 

he laughed, pushing his hair back before grabbing the basket that carried all of your groceries. you gave him a confused look, not really knowing what his intentions were. 

“skip your dinner tonight and come out.” 

you let out a laugh, not really caring who heard, “uh, no. I think I’ll pass,” you said trying to grab your basket back. he sighed, not letting it go, “I’ll give it back when you agree to come out with me,” you growled, your head hitting the cold cement wall. 

“for what? what would I have to offer you if I came out with you?” “nothing! but like I told you earlier today, the fact that you can only talk to kids without getting nervous is kind of embarrassing.” 

you stared at him confused and pissed off. 

“you throwing insults at me isn’t helping your situation Hawks so you have about fifteen seconds to give me my shit back before we start fighting in this grocery store.” 

Hawks put his hands up in defeat, sensing that you were actually being serious about kicking his ass. 

“come on, just one night and if you absolutely hate it, you will never have to do it again. I already promised some people that you would come out tonight too.” your eyes widened at what he had said, “who the hell did you promise?” you practically screeched. 

“Mirko and she might kills us if we’re late,” he murmured, “now?” you exclaimed as he put down your basket of groceries, leaving it on the floor before grabbing your wrist and running down the store. 

you apologized to everyone that you accidentally hit on your way out, them instantly brushing you off thinking that maybe an incident happened and that’s why you both were running out of the store in a hurry. you grabbed your keys out of your bag and walked towards your car. 

“just message me the directions to wherever the hell you’re dragging me too and i’ll meet you there.” 

Hawks nodded, making you put your number in his phone as you walked to car slowly. you figured that if the plans Mirko had for the three of you was urgent, you figured that both Hawks and Mirko were planning on wearing their  uniforms to the event.

Hawks had informed you that you were going to meet him in the fancier side of town, claiming that it was just a small dinner all of you were going too. 

which was a complete lie.

once you arrived to the destination, you realized that this wasn’t a dinner event. this was a Hero Billboard JP after party event. you had heard of it from All Might considering he was invited but his agency hadn’t qualified to attend the event since his agency was purposely ran to not have many heroes in it. 

the reason why you hadn’t been invited was because even though you were high on the JP ranking scale, you hadn’t had enough years in your belt to be considered for the awards they were giving out. 

“Hawks, Mirko, I wasn’t invited to this,” you informed them, “I nor All Might’s agency qualified for this event so it would be wrong of me to attend the after party for it.”  

Mirko looked at Hawks before she chuckled, “you weren’t invited but who said you weren’t someones date,” she said as you realized what she meant. you turned to Hawks who was laughing to himself, “you’re going to cause me premature grey hairs,” you stated. 

you and Hawks walked behind Mirko, them informing you that the only way you could enter was if you and Hawks walked through the line of reporters that were crowding around the front of the entrance. Hawks saw your face drain of its color as the nervousness crawled up. 

he gave you a genuine smile, not really knowing how to help you before grabbing your wrist gently, “you’ll be fine,” he murmured. 

you nodded as the two of you approached the line and put on huge smiles on your faces as the cameras immediately turned to you, reporters yelling for your attention, asking rapid fire questions. you looked to Hawks, telling him you should at least approach one before they sensationalized what was going on between the two of you in gossip shows and magazines. 

you approached the most nicest looking reporter, “(your hero name), it’s nice to see you! you’re here with Hawks!” she exclaimed. Hawks laughed, “is there something going on here? first in the morning, now at this event? is this the way the two of you are going public?” she asked. 

Hawks chuckled, glancing at you quickly, “wouldn’t that be crazy? the number two hero and the number five hero dating? I guess we’ll never know,” he mentioned, grabbing your hand and scurrying away. 

“Hawks! that was rude!” you exclaimed, “she was nice and you just ran off on her,” you lectured, Hawks not knowing whether to laugh or stand there and get lectured. he didn’t have enough time to choose as Mirko and a few other heroes approached the two of you. 

“you’re going to give our new friend a heart attack Hawks!” Mirko yelled, slapping Hawks in the arm. he tried dodging her, failing easily, “relax, I doubt they’ll do anything with that footage,” you sighed, seeing the bar not too far from where you were. 

“I’m going to get something to drink, I’ll be back,” you told them, quickly walking away. you had no idea how to start up a conversation with them. you felt very out of place, feeling as though they were just stringing you along with them because they felt bad. 

“are you okay? you seem a little out of it?” you heard Mirko’s voice say. you gave her a small smile, “I’m fine. just not used to this kind of thing,” you admitted, taking a sip of the extremely hard liquor you had ordered. Mirko giggled at the face you were making. 

“just relax! plus, if you’re wondering, this is the first time Hawks has ever done this with anyone. it’s surprising to all of us that he even came, nevertheless with a date. Hawks might act like an entitled brat but I promise you, underneath those layers of entitlement, he’s not that bad.” 

you remained silent, not knowing what to do with the information she gave you. after the two of you talked, you walked back to the group of heroes, trying to engage with them a bit more. every now and again, you would walk with whoever wanted a drink, just to give them company so they wouldn’t be alone. 

eventually, all of you got a table, sitting and drinking with each other. you couldn’t lie, the alcohol was hitting your system a bit more harsher than you thought it would. the buzz was swirling in your head as you chugged back a glass of water to see if you could shake it off. 

“I’m going to get some air. I’m getting a bit stuffy in here,” you told Mirko as Hawks stood up, offering to accompany you. you gave him a smile, walking out of the side door that led to an unlit alley, “how are you enjoying the night?” he asked. 

you tried to steady your breathing, hoping you were able to calm the buzzing feeling down, “yeah, it’s nice to get out,” you replied, a yawn coming from you, “but I’m feeling the alcohol a bit,” you said. 

the rest of the time you stood quietly, leaning up a bit against Hawks as he let you. you had no intentions of getting this close to him but with the alcohol mixing with your empty stomach, your actions spoke louder than the thoughts your brain were screaming at you. 

“i appreciate you taking me out tonight. it’s not every day someone like you offers for me to come out,” you mumbled, trying not to look at him in the eyes. Hawks hummed, bringing you in a little closer, “don’t worry about it. someone had to get you out of your shell, right?” he asked. 

you rolled your eyes, Hawks lifting up your chin to look at him, “plus, someone as cute as you shouldn’t be cooped up inside all the time,” he added on. “reporters might think that you and I have a thing together if you continue to be this way,” you mentioned, trying not to get flustered. 

he shrugged, not really caring for what this round of gossip magazines had to say about your relationship with him. 

“I don’t care, let them think what they want,” he whispered as you brought him closer to you. your lips were barely touching each other, “but I get the idea that you might want to continue this thing we have going on,” you joked. 

Hawks nodded, finally smashing his lips with yours, making you a bit surprised by the actions. you returned the kiss, your eyes shut as you felt Hawks grab your hand softly and hold it. once you let go, you saw the ghost of his small flustered expression on his face. 

what the two of you didn’t realize was that as the two of you were in the middle of the heated make out session, a reporter who was on their way to their car had spotted the two of you, smirking to themself as he quickly snapped the photo of you two and darting to his car.

“so does this mean I’ll get a date tomorrow?” Hawks asked making you laugh. you thought for a moment, making him stand on edge, “text me tomorrow and you’ll have your answer,” you joked, running back inside of the venue, making him chase after you. 

[nintendylan64]

My problems with FNAF Lore

Hey guys. I felt like I wanted to explain my problems with the FNAF lore, and how the lore was ruined for me years ago.

My history with the franchise and the lore Now, I discovered the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise back in 2014 through DanTDM's Let's Play of Five Nights at Freddy's 2. It was the first time I had ever been introduced to the jumpscares and characters in-game. But I actually discovered the first game through a YTP someone made of it. With how little I knew from discovering that YTP, I assumed that Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy were anthropomorphic animals that ran the place, and that Freddy just liked to leave scary stuff in his office because he was a horror guy. That assumption was way off and DanTDM's Let's Play let me discover that the antagonists weren't anthropomorphic animals. I then discovered Markiplier's videos on the games in 2014, and fan-animations of the games like SMG4's Freddy's Spaghettiria series, and Piemations' 5 AM at Freddy's series. Besides the surprising jumpscares, what really got me hooked on the FNAF series was the 80s-90s aesthetics, and the lore behind it all. Around late 2014 and early 2015, I had discovered the hidden lore series by MrCreepyPasta, which was what got me interested in exploring the lore. I loved the FNAF lore when it was just, "Man kills 5 kids in pizzeria joint and the animatronics become haunted by the spirits of the kids". This made it feel much more realistic, as murder of kids in a place like this can happen in real life. The fact that the staff weren't behind any of it, and that the guards were originally just some average joes who got hired for a night guard position without knowing the dangers of it was also very realistic too. And the inclusion of another tragic event known as the "Bite of '87" was also interesting. But the biggest thing that made the lore have a charm to it, was how there was an implied history of Fazbear Entertainment, and FNAF 2 showed us the history of the place before the tragedies happened, as well as implying that the negative impression was stuck before the murders was also interesting. The lore was interesting back then because of how realistic and mysterious it was. And when the third game came out, it was a great conclusion to the franchise, in which the killer got his comeuppance, leaving the kid's souls to rest in peace. And the killer haunting the suit he died in as an attempt to escape his torment of being trapped in a suit, eventually leaving him to be burned alive in the location he was at was a very nice way to end things. But the way it had expanded on the story by taking place thirty years after the events of the first game, with the unsolved mysteries of Fazbear Entertainment trying to be recreated by people was a good way to expand upon the story. So basically, I prefer the FNAF lore when it was the story of how kids were murdered in a pizzeria joint, and how they eventually got revenge on their killer, while room was made to show us how the pizzeria joint handled this, and how the alleged hauntings were shown through the animatronics being possessed. Because of the lore being so interesting, I tried making up my own timelines to tie the story of the first three games together. And seeing as how the lore was concluded, it should've just ended there, right? Well... it didn't.

Where the problems crept in I think that the problems with the lore crept in with the fourth game. Now, this game could've had potential, as it could've taken place in the location where the withered animatronics were used in before FNAF 2, but it didn't do that. We got instead a child suffering through nightmares, with animatronics that have particularly stupid designs. Plus, what made it worse was that the Bite of 83 was introduced, making the topic of the Bite of'87 confusing since it was implied it happened in the second game, but now it was happening in the fourth game? But then it was revealed to be a separate event, why two separate events of the same thing? What constitutes the idea of establishing a similar event to the Bite of '87? It had nothing to impact the games itself at all. The bigger thing that was confusing is this, Fredbear's Family Diner was implied to have been closed for longer than 1983-1987, and the fact that you see the unwithered versions of the withered animatronics in Fredbear's makes it all the more confusing, since Fredbear's was established as a separate, and early location before it was later re-enfranchised as Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. So why retcon what was established in the previous games? Why not just show us in the fourth game what happened with the withered animatronics before they became withered, and then make a fifth game that took place in Fredbear's Family Diner? I don't know why Scott felt the need to retcon things, especially since most people thought that the franchise had already ended with the third game. Later on down the line, Sister Location came out in 2016. And I honestly hate Sister Location, lore-wise that is. The reason I say this is because Sister Location fucked up everything more than the 4th game. This time, there was more retconning, the horror tone and 80s-90s aesthetic was gone, the game felt like Sci-fi and less like the older games. Worse, Purple Guy was given an actual name, and turned from a cold-blooded killer that killed kids because of being a psychopath, into a mad scientist obsessed with placing souls into animatronics using soul juice in an attempt to create murderous animatronics, and he killed kids to do this, but most of them were his own or his friend's kids, Fazbear Entertainment was actually started by this maniac, and Mike Schmidt from FNAF 1 was no longer an average joe working a night shift job, but instead the son of the killer and later became an unrealistic purple zombie that somehow got hired for night shift positions. Jeremy and Fritz were no longer average joes either, and were now aliases for the purple zombie who's actual name was Michael Afton, making Mike Schmidt another alias for this zombie. And now, this was more about a family that was insane to begin with trying to put their own personal demons to rest, rather than the story of the murder of 5 children in a pizzeria joint, and the killer gets his comeuppance while the faceless pizzeria chain tried keep its reputation afloat, eventually failing which lead to the closure of it. All of this shattered how I interpreted the lore. The biggest things that Sister Location fucked up were the following. 1. Taking away the 80s/90s aesthetic. In the first and second game, the game has an 80s and 90s aesthetic with the looks of the locations and decor, as well as the camera sounds sounding like cassette tapes, and the first took place in the early 90s, while the second took place in the late 80s. FNAF 3 kept the 80s/90s aesthetic, and I'd argue FNAF 4 kept the old aesthetic too, such as how old everything looked in FNAF 3, and how the house looks particularly old in FNAF 4. FNAF SL's aesthetics look way too futuristic for a FNAF game, especially since it's said to take place before the first 4 games. 2. Making it more sci-fi. The original FNAF games, and the fourth one were meant to be horror games, and they established this greatly with audio and visual cues, as well as the storyline having a horror-esque feel to it during the first 3 games, and even the 4th game kept. The focus on sci-fi traits or elements in SL kind of kills the horror-esque feel that FNAF originally gave off, especially the whole soul juice and mad scientist part. 3. Making Fazbear Entertainment have an owner. Fazbear Entertainment should've just been left as a faceless corporation that had nothing to do with the murders, the type of company to try and cover up the damage done to their reputation by cutting costs or not batting an eye when a man kills children in their restaurant. 4. Making Mike, Jeremy, and Fritz into aliases. It doesn't make any sense as to why a company would hire a foul smelling zombie who kept changing his name. I think that Mike, Jeremy, and Fritz should've just been average joes that got night guard positions not knowing that their jobs were dangerous and not knowing the hauntings of the pizzeria they applied to work for. And 5. The Afton Family. The Afton Family completely ruined the idea of the children being killed at Freddy's by an unknown man, since now it's just about a family killing his own for a dumb mad science experiment and the son is trying to stop his own father, making it so you no longer play as an average joe that discovers the dark secrets and hauntings of a pizzeria joint, but instead you're just playing as a zombie that needs to kill his own father in order to stop his father from killing anyone else. Seriously, it feels less like a horror game, and now feels more like a badly written self-insert sci-fi story with some bit of horror mixed in. The FNAF series is way too complicated to figure out now due to loads of retconning and unnecessary changes made to the story. Worse, the Nightmare, Funtime, and other animatronics that have been added to the franchise just seems like an excuse for Scott to just add new characters simply to keep the franchise going. Now, let's look at a FNAF fan-game series with a better written story.

Five Nights at Candy's Five Nights at Candy's has a much easier to understand story than FNAF. In the first game, you play as a female night guard at a burger joint where an unfortunate incident occurred between an animatronic and a customer, and an incident involving two kids at the factory where the animatronics were made. The backstory of everything, such as the original location and the burger joint's opening are explained in FNAC 3, showing how two unfortunate incidents at the puppet/animatronic theatre led to the closure of the place. We also learn more about the main character from the first game, and the one who caused the murders as well as the victims. In the second game, everything is concluded with the daughter of the guard solving the mysteries of the old factory. The reason is because Emil Macko managed to actually tell the story in an effective way, without retconning anything and without relying entirely on twists and misdirection.

Conclusion So yeah, I can't stand FNAF lore post-FNAF 4, because of how it became way too confusing to understand, and with how the series started retconning tons of things and making unnecessary changes. And it's amazing how a FNAF fan-game was able to tell its story better than the actual FNAF fan-games. So for me, I'm sticking with the FNAF 1-3 lore, which is my interpretation of it. Before I end this blog though, what's annoying is that no matter if you mention the FNAF 1-3 lore on YouTube, people will instantly start bringing in the modern FNAF lore and correct you, even if you're following you're headcanon.

[avengerscompound]

The Hamptons’ House: 2003 - 1

The Hamptons’ House:  A Iron Man Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count: 2511

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader

Warnings:  Smut (MFFF bisexual fourway, oral sex, vaginal sex, daisy chain, face sitting, come play)

Synopsis: You and Tony meet up again for your week again.  You both look forward to spending the time together,  but when it becomes clear Tony’s life is spiraling out of control, you wonder how many more of these meetups you’re going to get.

2003: Part 1

It was strange how as you got older the time between parties seemed to be getting shorter.  Three years was three years yet somehow as you turned your rental car into the driveway of Tony’s Hamptons’ house it felt like you’d only left a few weeks ago.

Not that a lot hadn’t happened in those years.  A lot had happened, but the time might have flown by so fast simply due to half of it being experienced in that half-awake, living zombie phase of new parenthood.

Brody was born on the tenth of February 2001.  While you and Kurt had been thrown into the life of new parenthood, the world had been thrown into turmoil thanks to terrorist attacks and the now named ‘war on terror’.  Stark Industries were booming because of it and he was now listed as one of the top ten richest people on the planet.  Not that that had changed very much.  He had always been obscenely rich but he was still just your Tony.

When you sent him an email telling him about Brody’s birth with photos attached he’d sent you the biggest bouquet you'd ever seen with a blue teddy bear that had Brody and his date of birth embroidered on the foot.

You put the car into park and got out, grabbing your bag from the back.  It was still very early.  A catering van sat at the door and people were unloading things from it under the watchful eye of Happy and the DJ had his station wagon parked beside your ford focus rental, unloading his equipment.

You made your way to the door and Happy grinned at you when he saw you.  “Hey, Cookie,” he said, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek.  “You're early.”

“Yeah, my flight just got in,” you said.  “Figured Tony wouldn't mind if I came early and used his shower.”

Some caterers squeezed passed you holding large trays of vegetables and Happy tickets something off a chart.  “The boss is in his room, I'm sure he won't care if you go straight up.”

“Thanks, Hap,” you said, heading inside.  “It’s good to see you.”

As you passed through the hall you saw Tony’s assistant Pepper overseeing the restocking of the bar.  He had been so sure she hated him and yet three years on and she was still working for him.

You went through the kitchen and up the secret staircase.  Tony was hunched over his desk that looked out over the ocean working on a circuit board.  He was wearing socks and a robe and beside him was an open bottle of Glenfiddich beside an almost empty glass.

You dropped your bag by the bed and approached him.  He was so absorbed in what he was doing he hadn’t even looked up.  You ran your hands over his shoulders and wrapped them around him.

“Woah…” Tony yelped and spun around, making you jump back a little to avoid getting kicked.  “Cookie!  You’re early!”

“I am,” you said.  “You gonna beat me up?”

“You surprised me,” he said, taking your hand and pulling you closer.  “I thought one of the cleaners was trying to get fresh with me.”

You straddled his lap and he ran his hands up your back as he looked up at you.  “Nope, just me.  What are you doing?”

“Oh,” he said looking over his shoulder.  “I’ve been working on creating an AI that can run the house.  I had an idea for it, and I thought I’d see if I could work on it here, but this stuff is all 15 years old.  So then I was looking at one of the things I was working on fifteen years ago…”  He shook his head.  “You know what?  I have no idea.  Where’s Kurt?”

“He’s taken Brody to his parents for the week,” you answered.  There had been talk about both of you coming again, but Brody was only two and so far, while you’d had nights off where you had someone babysitting, you’d never had any time off alone and Kurt had only had a few work trips that had taken him out of town.  You didn’t want to waste your first week away together, not actually together.

“Brody?”  Tony asked.

“Yeah,” you said, furrowing your brow.   “You know?  My son?  The one I had about nine months after I last saw you?”

“Whoa…”  Tony said, that same shock in his voice as when you’d come up behind him.  He pushed you off his lap and got up and started pacing.  “Wait?  You… we… is he…”  He stopped and looked at you and you tried not to break down into hysterical laughter.  “Is he?”

“Tony,” you said, shaking your head and trying to sound somber.

“Oh my god,” Tony said, running his hands through his hair.  “He is, isn't he?  He’s mine?”

You couldn’t hold it.  You burst out laughing and came over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.  “I was pregnant when you last saw me.  Remember?  I was throwing up every day?”

“Oh… yeah, right,” Tony said, leaning into you slightly.  “I completely forgot.  You sent pictures right?”

“Yes, I did,” you said, poking his side.  “And you sent me flowers.”

“Well, to be fair,” Tony said, running his hands up your back.  “That was Pepper.”

“You’re the worst,” you teased and brought your lips to his.  As you kissed deeply and a little sloppily you became aware exactly why Tony had forgotten about your son.  He tasted strongly of Scotch.  He’d been drinking a lot last time too, it was likely that anything that didn’t affect his day-to-day life was being shuffled into a part of his brain he didn’t access much.

He pulled back and spanked your ass.  “Why are you here so early?”

“Just when the plane got in,” you said.  “I thought I’d grab some lunch, have a nap, and then get ready for the party.  I have the sluttiest dress packed.”

Tony smirked.  “That’s what I like to hear,” he teased.  “Let’s do it.  This place is as much yours as it is mine these days.”

After you napped you took a shower and came out in your towel to find Pepper helping Tony with a pair of cufflinks and going through the list of things he’d wanted at the party.  She looked over to you and smiled before focussing her attention back on Tony.  “The cleaners will be here tomorrow morning, then you’ll have one come through every day until you leave.  On the last day they’ll come and clean and pack up the house,” she said.

“Thank you, Pepper,” Tony said.  “What would I do without you.”

“Starve in your own filth?”  She teased.  “Okay, you two.  Have fun.  I’ll be in Cabo.  So don’t call me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tony said.  “Enjoy yourself.”

Pepper headed back down the stairs and you started to get ready, starting with doing your hair.  “Come on, slowpoke, we have an orgy to attend.”

“You just sit tight,” you teased.  “You’re gonna get your dick sucked soon enough.”

Tony burst out laughing and flopped down on the edge of the bed, watching as you got ready.

“You’re putting a bra on?”  Tony asked as you put on your matching black lace thong and bra.

“Gravity has started to betray me, Tony,” you said.

“I’m just going to take it off,” he teased.

You laughed and stepped into your dress.  It was loose fit and asymmetrical in shimmering silver and black fabric.  You paired it with a strappy silver heel and Tony got up off the bed.  “Finally!”  He huffed, offering you his elbow.

You giggled and hooked his arm through his and the two of you went downstairs.  The party was in full swing when the two of you entered and there were shouts of ‘happy birthday’ to Tony as he made his way to the bar.  It was just a party so far.  People were drinking and dancing.  A large group had already collected around the pool and a handful were swimming.

Tony got himself a Macallan neat while you got a cosmo.  You stuck with Tony as he mingled with people.  He was royalty in this group of friends, acquaintances, and people who just wanted a chance to touch celebrity, and because he was royalty, you were royalty by association.  It was a nice feeling but not one you particularly wanted to extend and you wondered why you’d never noticed it until this trip.  Tony had always been the center of attention of course, but it never felt like you were part of that.  Perhaps it was because most of the time you arrived well after the party started.  The guests at these events changed a lot each time, but there were people you recognized and names you knew.  Perhaps people knew that Tony considered you special because it always started with you and him.

As people seemed to start things up and other women began to hang off Tony he pulled you close to him and brought his lips to your ear.  “What are we feeling tonight, cookie?”

“It's been a while since I’ve been with another woman,” you said.  “But I'm open to suggestions.”

“Nope,” Tony said and pulled one of the women who had gathered around you closer to him. “Annie, Lilli, shall we?”

The two women closest to him giggled and Annie took hold of Tony’s tie and led him to one of the downstairs bedrooms. She pulled him close and began to undress him as Tony kissed her neck and ran his hands up under your skirt.

You and Lilli turned to each other and began to kiss and slowly undress each other.  Not that there was too much to undress.  You were both completely naked before Tony even had his pants off.

The two of you moved to the bed and you guided her back on the mattress as you kissed her deeply.  You each ground on the other’s thigh as your tongues circled together.  Annie pushed Tony down on the bed and kneeled between his legs pulling his cock free from his pants.  You slowly began to crawl down Lilli’s body, kissing a trail down her skin as you moved further and further down.  You paused at her breasts, sucking and biting at her nipples as you rolled your hips on her thigh.  She mewled and arched her back, grabbing the headboard as her cunt flooded and smeared on your skin.  When both her nipples were like hard pebbles you moved down lower.

You kissed along her hips and flattened your tongue, running it up her cunt.  The tart musk of her sex filled your senses and your both moaned in unison.  Tony lay back on the bed, his head landing between your legs, and began to suck hungrily on your cunt.  You groaned into Lilli’s pussy, keeping your focus on her, drinking up her juices as she rocked against your face.  The four of you formed a chain down the bed, beginning with Lilli as she gripped the headboard and writhed under you and ending with Annie who was bobbing her head up and down on Tony’s cock.  You pushed two fingers inside of her and began to fuck her with them.  She dripped for you, her arousal ran from her, down your wrist in rivulets.  You drank up what you could and as your fingers worked over the soft spongy spot inside her, her walls began to spasm around your fingers.  Her moans got louder, drowning out the muffled moans you made into your cunt.

With a loud cry and a jerk of her hips, she came on your face.  You sat up and climbed off of Tony’s face.  He looked up at you with a smirk and took Annie’s hand and guided her up.  “Ladies,” he said.  “Start without me.”

The three of you formed a daisy chain on the bed, your head between Annie’s legs, Lilli’s between yours, and Annie’s between Lilli’s.  As the three of you began to suck and finger each other’s cunts, Tony moved around the edge of the bed, watching closely as he pumped his cock.  He grabbed a condom from the bowl and rolled it on as the three of you brought each other closer and closer to the edge.

Your senses were overwhelmed.  It was like they were all being stimulated at once, with the scent and taste of Annie’s cunt, the sounds of their moans, and the way Lilli was expertly working your g-spot.  Tony moved up behind you and Lilli pulled away from your cunt and started sucking his cock.  You moaned needily into Annie’s cunt and bucked your hips.  A moment later, Tony’s cock was pressed at your entrance and he thrust hard inside you.  You gasped and dug your fingers into Annie’s thighs from the sudden intrusion.  Annie began to rock her pussy on your face as you lapped at her clit eagerly and thrust two fingers inside you.  As Tony fucked your cunt, Lilli sucked on your clit.

You began to fall apart between them.  Your whole body buzzed and your clit began to twitch.  Your breath became more and ragged and your head became fuzzy and with a loud cry, you came hard, bucking back against Tony.

Tony pulled out and moved around to Annie, changing condoms as he did.  He thrust into her and began fucking her hard.  You kept flicking your tongue around the base of his cock and her clit.  She was already close before Tony began to fuck her and it wasn’t long before her muscles started tensing and her legs began to shake.  Tony’s breath was coming in labored and you spanked his ass as you nipped at Annie’s clit.  She cried out loudly and came, her whole body shuddering with it.

Tony pulled out and moved again and this time you and Annie did too.  You both sat on either side of Lilli and as you leaned down and began to lick at her clit, Annie sucked and bit at  Lilli’s breasts.  Lilli rolled her hips in time with the thrust of Tony’s hips and arched her back off the mattress.

“Fuck,” Tony groaned.  “You girls are so fucking hot.”

“Cum on my tits, Mister Stark,” Lilli begged, reaching up and holding his wrist.

His hips began to stutter and you focused on her clit, rubbing it harder to bring her along too.  She jerked up and cried out, gushing around Tony’s cock.  Tony pulled out and tossed the condom aside as he jerked his cock hard and with a groan, he came in hot ribbons over Lilli’s tits.

She hummed happily and ran her fingers through the mess and Annie leaned in and licked it up.

Tony smirked at you and held out his hand.

“Cake?”  You asked as you let him help you to your feet.

“You know me so well,” he chuckled and pulled you into a deep kiss.

// NEXT

[thaneirstaer]

So the last Oakheart session.

It began with us in the Inter dimensional quarantine

It will be referred to as IDQ for everyone's sake

So we are with the City of Jusi, also called Fort Jusi within the country of the Rustinglands

The primary players at the moment of this session

Zalrich, Tala, Khoury and Thane (unsurprisingly)

The Keeper of Secrets, an information broker of the highest caliber.

The Gentle One, more of them later.

Lilith, current leader of the Queen’s forces in Jusi, daughter to Mara Averina and a literal medusa, who we know has snuck up on people in the past.

Mara Averina, Vampiress, The Storm Countess, Queen of the Rustinglands and Chosen of Xentrellis. After a recent invasion of Tala’s dreams she had prevented Tala from changing out of her lycanthrope form. 

Rest under the read more to save your sanity with this post’s length

Called so because it has 3 tiers and was practically impossible to take. Our party is going through a secret passage, a place which the evil ruling monarchy of the Rustinglands really wants to get to.

Given it's name and purpose we didn't want them to get there. Especially given the fact we know Xentrilis, ancient goddess sealed away in the Hells, The Feywild and the Material Plane(we are here)

So we discover the avenue up to the Fort of Jusi from the IDQ, however with really high checks from Tala we learned fiendish creatures were used to break down the barriers from the Fort to IDQ and a half dozen entities entered the IDQ.

We come to the agreement that we don't want to leave these individuals to come up behind us mid fight, so we go to engage them. 

Zalrich had previously sent his mechanical bird familiar into the IDQ to scout it, as such we knew the location of a two containment cells within the IDQ.

These two entities are The Keeper of Secrets, if you had ever pictured a typical devil, except his skin was entirely purple, as was his suit, and he lived in a room which appeared like the interior of a circus tent. Tala and Zal go in to speak with them, and after a little bit of coy chat he reveals he can give us information on People, Events and Things, however the more archaic the topic, the harder the information is to gleam, the greater the cost. They will accept materials for most of the information we require, and something immaterial for others.

Zal is blessed with knowledge as to the nature of Tala’s connection to Mara, and this is the first time we’ve ever seen his player turn legitimately pale and stunned. He of course kept this secret from us for now, as he had not a lot of time to find this out.

Zal only learned this because Thane had called Tala away from their discussion cause he sensed a demonic entity nearby, not the devil in the room behind him though. Thane learned materials possessions could be used to gain information, so he gave Tala his most gorgeous outfit he keeps in his bags, it’s worth over 2000 gold. It’s one of his most prized possessions and he didn't hesitate giving it to her to help her. 

We then gained information about Lillith, the Medusa:

We learn she is vulnerable to her own petrification, thankfully, and she shatters any mirrors as she hates her own visage. She is a capable martial opponent but can and will become savage if frustrated. 

She is also, on a deep, primal level, terrified of her own mother, Mara Averina.

The last thing we learned is that she was also in the IDQ. She’s down here with us, looking into the Gentle One’s containment cell. Which seems to be where they want to go, knowing there’s a seal keep Xentrellis at bay down here, we know this is dangerous and rush to the Gentle One’s cell.

When we arrive we find ourselves surrounded by a mist just within the cell. We grip each others’ hands and move as much as we can through the mist. We all have to make saving throws, Thane fails and breaks the chain, beginning to back as he feels as if he is drowning under the unadulterated pressure of the area. The sheer weight of The Gentle One’s presence is nearly overwhelming and Tala has drag Thane through this. As he felt his soul being pulled from his body.

This is where we have an interesting interaction, Khoury tries to communicate with The Gentle One, it cannot speak but gives emotions as replies, eventually through their interaction we learn The Gentle One’s power is not malicious, it is simply a bi-product of being close to to it. Khoury then sees many petrified flowers scattered about the floor, no doubt the remains of those who have previously tried to traverse past The Gentle One. They then scoop up the entire party and after a moment of nearly devouring Khoury it seems nearly melancholically regretting it’s actions. Khoury asks about Lillith and those we know are with her and tells The Gentle One that those people would hurt him, his friends and many other people with cruelty. It does not reply but given it’s intent to aid us thanks to Khoury’s kindness the party are scooped up and dropped near a wall. Tala and Khoury begin to move their hands along the wall and find a hidden doorway.

The party poured out the doorway and as they did Khoury asked The Gentle One to close the door again, we hope this will either delay Lilith or lead to her dying by staying in The Gentle One’s presence for too long.

Now before I describe the final scene of this story I need to tell you what The Gentle One actually is.

It’s a Nightwalker, while we only saw it’s hand scoop us all up easily, and most of it’s form aside from it’s eyes were obscured to us, surrounded by wisps, a Nightwalker is one of Dungeons and Dragons most powerful monsters and would have been nearly impossible for the party to defeat in combat without losing at least two of us. In it’s own lair it would be a death sentence. A Nightwalker is a creature of entropy, it is made of Death, it is not an undead creature in the traditional sense, it is not a zombie nor lich nor vampire, it is not ressurected, it manifests as an undead creature from it’s first moments.

This is a Nightwalker, and The Gentle One is a very powerful Nightwalker, and Khoury fucking Al’Essador made it his friend.

Right now that The Gentle One has been passed we went a room that looks akin to a grass field, with steps leading up to a lock, with a massive tear drop shaped shield near it. At the front of this is a figure only one of us has ever seen.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you to be first.”

It’s Mara Averina and that's where the session ended

So yes, rather then having to deal with the Medusa Daughter, we currently are facing the Vampire Queen, with the Medusa Daughter probably on the way to us.

This game is fucking wild.

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 020

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hello everyone. Thanks for clicking in to read. Billy and Evie continue to explore their new relationship together. Max's fourteenth birthday party marks a change for the teens, reminding them that danger isn't too far off. TW: Neil being Neil. Mentions of abuse. Something close to an almost assault/abduction off screen near the end. Light mentions of Pica & fatphobia. Sexual themes

***My tag list is wide open, just shoot me a msg to join it! Chat with me about the chapter if you have the time! Enjoy! xoxo 

Chapter 20: Rose Tint My World

  “Hold still, I’ll poke your eye again.”

   “I can’t breathe, you’re killing me.” Came a sniffled whine.

   “Such a baby. You asked.”

   “I said I was curious after you put the gunk on my nails!”

   “That gunk was a great color on you. You whine just like your big brother.” Carol had Max’s face clamped in her grip as she applied mascara. “Don’t blink, you'll smear it.”

   “Evie, she’s killing me,” Max lamented aloud. “This is not worth it.” Evie just laughed, setting a bowl of pretzels aside. Carol flicked a mirror up to let Max see her handiwork. “Whoa...It’s not terrible.” She gruffed in a mumble, tilting her head to see each angle. "Kinda like Madonna."

   “I’ll take it.” Carol stole some M&Ms from another dish as they shared a spot on Heather’s fuzzy carpet. A movie rolled on in the corner TV.

   Max about howled when Heather came in from the bathroom, face covered in green.

   “Monster!”

   “It’s a face-mask!” Heather planted her hands on her hips, prompting more laughter. “You’ll be more into them once your body really changes.”

   “Girls are way scarier than boys.” Max poked at her blushed cheek which had Carol smacking her hand away. Evie was draped across the bottom of the bed in her robe and nightie, half-watching the TV. “Can you do a zombie make-up?”

   Carol gave a snort.

   “I can do anything. kid.”

   “Eves, you want another piece of pizza?” Heather crossed with the box.

   “I’m so full.” Evie shook her head.

   “You had like one piece.”

   “I ate a big lunch. And lots of pretzels.” Evie snatched the pretzel bowl again for good measure. Truthfully, her appetite had been up and down lately. Mostly down. What with the pangs in her stomach that always passed and… “You sound like my mother.”

   “She was...extra peppy at the salon today. My mom and I got our monthly trim.”

   “Probably some guy she’s seeing, it’ll pass and another will come. Men are like Kleenex to her. Soft, strong, and disposable.” Evie shrugged to pluck up a magazine.

   “Hey,” Max began as Carol fussed over her, “so I didn’t want to make a thing of it, but my mom keeps insisting. My birthday party is coming. She and Neil saved so I could have it just at the roller rink and...they said I could invite whoever I wanted. But, I can’t ask the guys to come. So I figured I’d ask El. She’s really cool. But, maybe if you guys wanted to come? You can bring boys and pretend you’re not even at my party if it’s not your thing. I just-”

   “Max, we’d love to come.” Heather piped up first. “Evie and I rule the rink too.”

   “I look very cute in skates,” Carol agreed with a twitching smirk. “I'm in. I’ll bring Tommy, he sucks and he’ll fall down a bunch. We'll pretend we ran into each other so your stepdad can get the stick out of his ass.”

   “Billy has to go too cause Neil says it’s a family event.” Max turned to Evie. “I think he’d be happier with you there.”

   “I think Billy and I both are fine being there for you. I had my fourteenth at the rink too. It’ll be fun.” Evie beamed, legs up to sway idly. “Plus we haven’t met the Chief’s kid. She’s home-schooled, right?”

   “Yeah, she might be joining us in school next year.” Max stayed still for Carol’s brush. “Depends. She was uh...adopted under weird circumstances. You’ll like her. I taught her how to do that felting thing because of you and she made this funny one of her dad.”

   “I’ll bet Hopper loved that.” Evie winked. 

   “He’s kind of a babe in like a scruffy, rugged way,” Carol remarked. "Strong mountain man type."

   “Ew. He’s so old.” Max reeled back to laugh.

   “I’m just saying! I like a man in uniform. He rocks the khaki.” 

   “The moms in town do eat him up.” Heather shrugged, joining Evie on the bed with a handful of candy. “We all have our strange crushes. I like high cheek-bones. Guys with a little Bowie. Evie? You got one?”

   “Gia Carangi even if she isn’t modeling any more, I love her face.” Evie was flicking pages without looking. Howls from the TV went ignored through the chatter.

   “I called that. Fenny being into ladies. Try Iman.” Carol winked which earned her a look as if she hadn’t planted a kiss on Evie in a fit of rage.

   “People say Billy’s pretty like a girl.” Max had added which got the other girls giggling. 

   “I like this one, we’re so keeping her.” Carol got up to root for a bag of chips, popping them open. “Like the zombie face better?”

   “I still look too pretty.” Max appeared more goth than zombie.

   “You are pretty. Deal with it. We redheads stick together.” Carol stole Evie’s magazine. “Let us know when the party is, we’ll be there.”

   Max looked at the three older girls squished together on Heather’s bed. Chattering and supporting. Happy to have her around.

   A bright smile touched her face for the first time since Neil Hargrove walked into her home. 

** ** ** 

   Most days, all it felt like was floating. Floating through her house. Through Hawkins. Up and down streets. Through school. A stunning illusion she pulled like wool over her dark eyes.

   A woman in rippling silks walking endless halls toward a great, cherry red door at the end, but the door gets farther away and she's thrilled to continue on even still. Feather wings glittering to unfold from her back because heaven's light is beyond the door. Crystalline eyes with their hold. Waiting for her. The sky awaits her with caressing clouds. Opulent gold sun rays and twinkling stars when the world lies down.

   Evie knew she was too big for her wings most days. Too heavy to leave the Earth.

   Knew in her beating heart of hearts that was the first thing people think when they see her. This magnificent soul with drive and neon and talent reduced to a single shrewd glance. And they don't think twice until she's something vaguely sexual. Something marketable you can package and process and sell to the last drop.

   Easier to stomach something uncomely if you can slide into it ruthlessly to rut. They always come like animals, wailing as a banshee would to get off better than they ever will in their small lives. They eat it up. Cover it in sweat and regret and blame.

   These things that hang as little weights on her heartstrings swinging back and forth. They make her not want to attempt extending those wings to fly. Fear of heads shaking in judgement. Fear of looking uglier. More foolish for even trying. Poor thing.

   All because of one glance that couldn't be bothered to see worth in another human life. Sometimes Evie wanted to be skinny not because of beauty, but because she'd get a privilege pass to exist in this world.

   They think she shouldn't dress the way she does. She's probably lazy and self loathing because of added pounds. She has no real aspirations or means to achieve them. Those eyes that watch her eat. That shift away before they decide on another seat because the one open next to her just isn't right. They glare because of the extra room she might take up. Even sharing a few cordial words with fat girls seemed to be a task.

   Evie always notices and does the polite thing pretending she doesn't. She knows what her body looks like, no need to point out the obvious.

   Strange, how these snap judgements, these eyes that don't look twice; can villainize a body utterly. A body. Flesh, bone, and muscle. We're all made in heaven's image. All destined for paths we seek to control. Superiority should have been an illusion. But no, too much or too little, your worth dips low. Fetishes and internalized hatred for things that were shaped and colored differently. Blame.

   But, some days, when the wind soars just right...just strong enough...Evie can spread and illuminate. See the births and deaths of a million stars. Drop the little weights to feel the winds between her fingers. In her curls. In her wings. Feel her feet leave the floor for just a few fleeting seconds.

   The fleeting seconds of soaring always seem so worth it against a world of unsightly aches. Against snap judgements she can toss back to live in a flower petal haze.

   Evie tried hard to live in those moments when they flashed into her. Spotlights. Butterflies delicately landing on her flesh to open and close their stained glass wings for kisses. Evie felt crushed utterly in the most decadent way.

   Billy's soft lips on her neck to get lost in the pulse. Deft fingers that would push up her clothing as he moved in her. Eyes that wanted to see her. All of her. The prayers he could whisper against heating skin.

   A lot could be said about him. But, Billy was always happy to see her and that alone was air spinning into gold. His eyes would light up. Lips twitching. She could hear the single beat that his heart skipped. Even if they didn't speak, they felt this awareness for each other in the vicinity. Truly magic.

   Those eyes. That love of a face. Always staring pointedly to read her up and down. Always plucking the weights from her heart by listening. Always unafraid to touch her. Evie hoped she returned that. She really did.

   Fleeting seconds began to linger between them. Seeping slow and saccharine as fresh pouring honey.

   Sneaking away on walks while he let her hold his hand. Flirtation against school lockers that ended in several 'just one more' kisses. Double dates to the movies with Tommy and Carol. Sitting separately to make out.

   Driving up near Lover’s Lake to kiss in a parked Camaro while the sun laid itself down to sleep. Fumbling playfully to undress and explore. Watching the construction of a coming mall with Slurpees from the gas station. Tongues and lips colored all artificial cherry and strawberry.

   Evie would stretch her wings completely. Let Billy admire them until the world was all satin rose-tinted. She could forget her urges and worries and insecurities. All together. This was fine.

   She was fine. More then fine.

   He so liked to admire her wings. Pleasure crushed in as she moaned. Let his fingers explore contours and notches untouched before. Billy would take those prayers on his lips and drape them over her body. Spell them between fleshy thighs. Pulling more fleeting seconds for himself too.

   They could roll around under sheets and not worry about anything else. Have conversations that always felt silly and wonderful and weighted because they both mattered to someone so ardently. That alone was an ocean both could sink into.

   Something beautiful to behold. The real vision behind the great red door. Your soul mattering.

   Evie was in a bubble with Billy Hargrove. A stupid, dopey look on her face when Mona settled dinner down one evening. Steam rising from a huge pot.

   “Going out later?” Evie began to create sound or she'd be lost. "You colored your hair brown again."

   “Needed another change. Ah, I'm going out just with Karen and Claudia. Dessert and wine night. I asked Susan but that poor thing keeps standing me up. Did you finish Max’s gift for her party?” Mona scooped up huge portions in a bowl that Evie would only be prodding at.

   “Yeah, it’s set. Turned out perfect. She’s not much for jewelry but I think a personalized tie dye shirt will be fun. Might look cool while skateboarding. I also have that goody bag of sweets for her to fill up on we made.” Evie reminded herself to pick up her spoon. Took a few bites.

   “You’re not scarfing it down like usual, you love my crawfish soup.”

   “It’s delicious, I just had a big lunch.” A lie. Evie pressed herself to eat quicker, tearing a piece of fresh bread to chew. Thing was, she wanted to eat. She wanted to eat so badly despite the sickness welling inside her. The heavy ache made it a task. Mona eyed her daughter there. “My stomach's in knots a lot, just school stuff.” 

   “Well, you are a senior.” Mona pushed her own soup around. “I haven’t been around as much as I’d like to be. Just the salon and I met-”

   “I get it.” Evie’s lips spread in a flash, not wanting her mother to finish that sentence. “I’m with friends a lot and I keep busy with my music and the cat. I even wrote a new song.”

   “That’s two this week, you. Strumming along blissfully.” Mona gushed. “Whatever has you all creative and dewy, chase it.” Silverware clicked around and Evie stared at her dish. A broader smile crossed.

   "I will."

   “What’s it called?”

   “Ocean Eyes.” 

   Evie could be pretty transparent in the early stages of a relationship.

   These short weeks in with Billy. Lyrics flooded free. Sometimes he liked to watch her write and strum when they hung out. Trips to the lounge where she worked other nights got him a full show, but not of her original stuff. Songs marched forth.

   “Ocean Eyes.”

   “Cupid and Psyche.”

   “Honey Stardust.”

   “Neon-Tinted Hearts.”

   Rock. Pop. Lush and obscene with her glowing heartstrings. She wrote them for Fredrick too when they got together.

   “Doll Joints.”

   “Lollipop Lolita.”

   “Prince Charming.”

   After dinner, Evie stole a notebook filled with her every sinful lyrical confession of her time with Fredrick Bowers. Burnt it in an empty pot out back until Billy wandered out the back steps of his place. Asking her if she was trying to set the neighborhood on fire.

   “How can I help?” He’d snarked while the sky went all pretty peach fuzz. Evie just laughed and never explained what she’d burnt or why it felt this cathartic to watch the smoke rise toward a falling sun. She figured maybe this was the day she'd stop eating foreign and sharp objects. She could do it. She was happier. Lighter. It had to stop.

   It had to. She couldn't think about this haze shattering, it hurt too deep.

   Billy used the flame to light his cigarette comically and kissed her before inhaling the smoke. 

   “Can we take a drive? Or walk if you’re low on gas?”

   “Let’s walk, I got some cash doing my odd jobs for the damn neighbors, but I need it to last a bit longer with Max’s birthday. Got her this new board she was too chickenshit to beg our parents for.”

   “Aren’t you a darling big brother?” Evie crossed her arms to follow him when the flame dwindled low. They went around the house to the front, started down the street. “Iris has some hours for me that next Saturday night.”

   “You going to tell your mom about the secret job thing?” Billy inhaled and let smoke billow up into the afternoon light. They walked along Cherry Lane. Not touching. Counting steps while their shadows cast and the streetlights came up. A brisk night loomed, spring begging to creep through the month of March. 

   “I figured I could this summer. Around graduation. Just say I got something bigger since I’m eighteen and Iris can get me steadier hours. Gigs day or night. Maybe I’ll get to host a couple more drag shows. I miss those damn girls, the funniest performers know. I'll just let my mom down easy about the receptionist thing, hopefully she’s fine with it. Make it sound like I took initiative cause I'm a big girl.” 

   “And your grand singer plans?” He liked to ask about her and hang upon the syllables.

   “Still up in the air. I’m taking the year off to work and write. Try for a talent agent or manager. I can record maybe...try to get airtime. There’s this contest thing, they do it every year and the winners always do well. But, I’m honestly too afraid to ask my mom about it just yet. I’m saving though here and there.” Evie beamed. “You? Summer and on.”

   She was clearly asking if he was sticking around for summer. 

   “Odd lawn, house, and car jobs are getting me by. This whole street is a mess and the moms in town like to watch me work."

   "Yikes." 

   "It means better pay and tips. I’m taking Heather up on her lifeguard offer this summer. I'll save up, Dad's already going to be asking for rent when I graduate."

   "Shit."

   "Yeah. Don’t wanna bank on that mall they’re opening with all the other little shits trying to get jobs first.” Billy leaned back to let the cooler air kiss his face, sighing before he tossed his smoke out. 

   Evie came to the end of the street near the forest, swayed around a streetlamp like she was in an old Hollywood flick. Dreaming long and endless. Sometimes she worried so often that she wasn't living. Just dreaming it all away. Maybe a center line was possible.

   Maybe she'd be able to soar over it all.

   Billy waited for her to swing back around it before he pressed into her for a slow, lingering kiss. Even better, maybe they both were sharing a dream. Making it of something stronger.

   “So, how am I doing?” He joked lighter. Evie gripped the lamp to stay level, head tilting. “Two weeks in, almost three. This whole situation.”

   “Situation.” Evie mused, slyly hiding half her face behind the lamp to hum. The shadowy starlet of a femme fatale she loved to watch on television with her mother. Glinting. Dangerous. "This whole situation?" She lingered to sigh it even slower.

   "You and me." He'd sounded out, drawing nearer. "Us..." Evangeline, always the playful nymph, flitted off playfully. Spinning the other way to walk along so Billy came to her side easily.

   “I think you’re doing fine." She tapped her chin. "What about me? Evaluate my performance.” 

   “Ah. In a sea of slithery tadpoles, you’re a goddamn firecracker.” He’d laughed and Evie followed, covering her lips with one hand.

   “I don’t know how any of that correlates or makes sense, but I’ll take it.”

   “Neither do I. Just made it up to see you do that. The scrunchy thing you do when you’re too happy or upset with me.” Billy’s nose crinkled as he grinned there. Evie came up to peck his freckles.

   “You’re a total sap, Hargrove.” Evie continued, hands clasped behind her back before she inhaled the air. “Let’s hit that mini mart nearby. I’m craving a Dr. Pepper. Buy you a soda. It’s my turn.”

   “No, it isn’t. You’re just being too nice again,” Billy remarked, feet shifting slower as they crossed the street. “I can’t take you fancy places.”

   “I don’t need to go to fancy places, I just like hanging out with you wherever.” Evie turned her head to see him. “We’re both poor, we make due. Summer will be better. We can just work and...figure this out. I like it right now though, so don’t worry because I know how you shiver in those boots.”

   She pondered it.

   “Do you like it?” Evie offered quieter, earning Billy’s eyes searching her expression. Lip twitching, he tossed his arm around her. Brought Evie taut into his frame with an easier grin so they could keep walking toward the whirling, illuminated sign in the distance.

   “Yeah, I like it.” He decided. “I like you plenty. What's not to like, Evangeline?” His free hand gestured out and Evie beamed to point at that darling face. Her Eros. Encouraging her wings to unfold without pressure.

   "Wow, you're getting better and better at that." A beat. "Making me blush without rolling my eyes."

   "Please, Angel, your knees quiver every time I hit you with this smile. You might as well toss off the panties for me." For good measure, he flashed it and Evie hid from his absolute burning charm. Cheeks felt that fire bloom and billow.

    A car hurried past them. Sweeping budding flowers and loose leaves about. Delicate, they danced. Trees wobbled back and forth to the wind picking up. Evie stayed looking away to smile that time. Knew this wind would carry her easily.

   "Did you have a best friend back in California?" She moved her arm around his back as they went. 

   "I don't know. Guess I had a few in orbit."

   "Am I your best friend here?" She piped back up and Billy slowed to glance, chuckling.

   "I thought you and I were avoiding labels."

   "It's different." Came the protest.

   "No, it isn't." He paused. "Heather's your best friend."

   "Yeah, but I figured I could have more than one. Perfectly carved places for each." Evie shifted in front of him, hands smoothing up Billy's shoulders to clasp fingers round his neck. Blue eyes glittered to search.

   "You trying to push some admission outta me, Fenny?"

   Lashes batted with all the innocence they could hold.

   "Just admit it, Hargrove," she pulled him down for a lip lock, pecking his jaw and cheeks until he broke to laugh and hold her at bay. One brow lifted. "It'll be our dirty little secret."

   "Fine. Only cause you twisted my arm about it and it gets you hot. You are my very," he palmed her bottom to make her gasp in one motion, "very best friend. Happy?" Billy stole a kiss when she was still dumbfounded, molding their frames together.

   "Maybe I am." Evie sighed, sounding too raw and honest about it. She came out to see his eyes there. Tried to read them. Billy blinked to say something else.

   “So, you're already thinking about graduation and summer, huh? Moving quick.”

   “I’m optimistic is all. It’s a rare thing with me so I'm just enjoying it. I’m not used to happy and good.” Evie got cheeky to hide anything else, winking over her shoulder before she went inside the tiny store.

   Fluorescent lights washed out too many colorful packages. They picked cold cans of soda and bright yellow packs of Jujyfruit candies to curb a sweet craving. Billy gripped the paper bag in one fist and Evie snatched his free hand when they got outside.

   “C’mon!” She picked up the pace. “Let’s catch the bus to the other side of town.”

   “Billy Hargrove doesn’t take the bus. It’s all full.” He’d complained, still rushing after her to the stop.

   “Try something new.” Evie was giggling, tugging at him to get on.

   With the bus full of residents leaving work, they took some standing room with a group up front. Fingers curled into the handles above, swaying closer together due to the rocking and crowding. A hard turn sent Evie into Billy’s chest, her hand sprang out over his shoulder to catch the bar just above his head.

   “Trying to jump my bones in public, little Miss Fenny?” He feigned a look of awe, brows lifting playfully. His free arm slipped around the small of Evie’s back, bracing her there into his marble frame. “You know how much easier it is if you just ask, Angel?”

   Evie wanted to scoff. Wanted to scrunch that annoyed look she was known for. Wanted to send him to the floor and kiss him for miles and miles. But, she just stood there in the dim, flickering bus lights. Watched his expression relax. Not really breathing until she reminded herself. 

   Billy seemed to remember as well. At the back and forth shifting of the vehicle, they squished together. Forcing looks away to see the path again. Billy pushed his thigh further between her legs. Both of them idly rubbing together now. Evie felt the heat crawl up her cheeks, lungs tremoring. Billy’s fist holding the bag shifting a little lower on her back, firm and scalding hot. 

   She peered up at his jawline. Looked away. Felt Billy’s eyes wander back after before he flickered elsewhere. Denim pushed against denim. Billy hitched this breath as if he might whimper. Swallowed it down. Hips swaying back and forth and back again. A thumb pushed deftly into her back. Evie shifting in, lips parting. Trembling as Billy turned his head to see her centimeters from him. 

   “This is our stop.” She’d said in his ear. Leaning flush into him to pull the cord down. Billy inhaled the amber. Brushed his nose into her own while she came back out.

   “Don’t wanna stop.” His freckles looked especially glowy outlined in a rare blush. The bus skidded and Evie veered back with some amusement. Brown eyes casting Billy up and down before she skipped off in a hurry, leaving him to chase her because he’d always chase her. Bag still wrinkled around Billy’s fist, he caught up with her. Under the streetlamps surrounded by dancing moths. 

   “We near Lover’s Lake?”

   “Yeah, the park nearby. Figured some loitering would do us good.” Evie stepped across the grass and sand. Listened to the dark structures creak. “C’mon. I love the swings.” 

   She plopped back into one, legs kicking some before Billy joined her. He cracked one can of soda to offer it, feet shifting over the sand to sway closer together. Chains creaking. 

   They clicked drinks and guzzled fizz before Evie snagged the candy out. Stealing a few chewy pieces. The bright box got passed back and forth during a comfortable silence. Billy watched Evie as she observed the moon there. 

   “Do you know any constellations?” She’d asked quieter, forcing him out of the daze. Curls caught the illumination with stars dotting her dark eyes. 

   “Not really.” He took the candy back as she swallowed a piece.

   “You see that crooked line? Those four little guys, they call that...Salem’s Lot. And...” Evie touched her lips, pointing again. “Those two bright boys there. Called Shawshank. Oh, and that one-”

   “These are Stephen King references.” He pushed her.

   “No, I’m very smart and they’re real-life constellations. Listen and learn, Billy boy.”

   “So, are you gonna call that grouping, The Shining or The Overlook?” He pointed to a cluster and Evie snickered.

   “Obviously that’s Carrietta White’s Constellation. Duh. Cause it looks like a rain of blood.” Evie snorted and Billy joined her, heads pressing together as they giggled like school children.

   “You know she wears a crushed red velvet dress in the book? Not pink as seen in the movie.” Billy stretched out, finishing his soda.

   “You know she’s fat in the book, too?” Evie winked at him, eyed the trash, and tried to toss her can at it. Missing badly, it smacked the rim and fell in the sand with a clatter. “Damn it!” Billy laughed at her louder.

   “Don’t try for a career on the court, Evie.” He watched her pout as she plucked it up to throw it away properly. “Now, watch the master work.” He aimed as she sat down. One deft hand reeled back and launched it only to have Evie’s palm smack it easily the other direction. Almost falling out of her seat cackling, she got the candy pushed into her arm before he gawked and went to get it.

   “Oh,” she kept up without air, “I thought you were the master? You should have seen your face!”

   “Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, dunking it in the can with an echoing clank. For some cheery consolation, she offered the rest of the box to him. Tiny candy pieces fell into his palm before he pushed them all into his mouth at once, eyes lifting to the sky again. Billy made a face and turned to go to push her swing. “Gimme another constellation.”

   “Hmm.” Evie held the chains, began to swing properly at his coaxing. Felt like they were in a secret garden together. Water rippling against the air distantly. Cold chill not bothering either of them. “Those two stars. The little one and the big guy. See?”

   Billy gripped the chains, keeping her swing up against him to follow the gaze

   “That’s Neverland. Second star to the right and straight on till morning.” She snickered again as Billy pushed her forward. “Bet I can beat you there. I’ll jump from the swing.”

   “You’re on.” Billy stole the seat next to her, both of them pumping higher. Curls fluttering. Laughing. Happy because they were together and that mattered.

   “I’m going to overthrow Pan and Hook. Become the most fantastic Lost Girl with a siren song to command the island and you’ll write your stories.”

   “Think so?” Billy pushed himself higher. Actually thought he might fly with Evie there.

   “Yes! You’ll tell the greatest stories ever heard through the land and they’ll echo back down here to be loved too.” She proclaimed that. Not having heard Billy’s stories, but believing what was in his heart. 

   Time slowed. Wild laughter crackled toward the sky. Utter sparks as they jumped together and collided to roll around the sand. Evie was still alight with joy under him, hair splayed everywhere as Billy snapped up to check her over, hovering. Evie’s giggling tapered off against the night air. She stared up at him. Framed in twinkling stars. He said something she didn’t catch.

   “You have beautiful eyes,” Evie sounded out slower, lost in the endless crystalline blue. “Did you mean it?”

   “Mean, what?”

   “What you said when we were lying in bed together. You said I was the best thing about this place. People never say things like that. Not to girls like me. I believed it when you said it though and it was easy too.” Evie skimmed her fingers over his jacket. Watched Billy’s eyes flicker to recall that moment and the clouds he floated upon like lily-pads in a pond.

   Billy swept down. Planted a hot kiss that was all lips. Swelled her mouth when he pulled out. He left Evie fluttered and came to her ear.

   “That was a yes.” He pushed up, eyes too sly. “By the way.” Evie took a hand when he offered one and got pulled to her feet, bodies stumbling together. They tried to brush the sand off fabric. 

   “Do you think about that night? The dance, I mean. Not...the sex. Well, I guess it’s okay to think about the sex actually.” She blushed there when Billy’s lip quirked. His fingers still wrapped around her wrist. “Before all that went down with Brock. It was-”

   “Not terrible.” He finished.

   “Not at all. The first part of the night, sometimes I wish we could go back and-”

   “Rewrite it.” Billy looked around, giving Evie a tug. He pulled her up on the metal roundabout, painted red and blue that was chipping away. “Hold on.” Another smile had curled as he braced to get it spinning.

   “Billy!” Evie jerked to hold tight to the bars. Hair flying up. Curls coiled out. Fire billowing gracefully. “What are you doing!”

   “Turning back the clock,” he charged and jumped on with her, wobbling to hold something, "to redo it.” Evie grabbed for his coat. Fisting the fabric when they locked eyes. Wind rushed in a thrill with memories tumbling together and apart. 

   Her wings sprang forth.

   Billy made Evie the still point to his turning world. For just a moment. Knew, if anything, that meeting her was something truly important. An unseen force that would twist his heart forever.

   Spinning round and round. He recalled the metallic confetti dancing and the way the music pulsed. The carousel began to slow, both teens holding the bars and each other to say level.

   Slower, Evie pecked a kiss upon his lips to mirror the first. Unable to come out far, Billy was already closing the distance for the second. Trying to pay her back with a thousand sweet kisses. 

   Cheers rang and fireworks burst. She remembered it all too. How dizzy and still the world seemed to be. How it hushed for her too sweetly. Billy’s hands on her face, cradling delicately to angle the second kiss a little deeper. They felt the metal clink to stillness under them and inched back out.

   “I want to go home with you,” Evie said the words she wished she had that night. Huge dark eyes glittering. She found his lips again. Not worried about air or what the future held for them. Lost on a rosy haze and perfectly fine for these stolen fleeting seconds. “Can we go?” Billy searched her, thumb sweeping a circle into her jaw. He smiled fully.

   “Only if we can take the bus again.”

** ** ** ** 

   “Happy Birthday!” Evie gushed, offering a gift to a small pile. Max had her arms around her before she’d gotten a chance to turn. One hand shifted to the shorter girl’s back. Music whirled with a campy light show, made the horribly patterned carpets glow. “Carol and Heather are on their way in. Tommy’s around but he won’t hang near the table.”

   “Neil’s going to be late. Work stuff.” This explained why Max’s smile was so bright. Evie nudged her chin, head cocking. “You brought your own skates.”

   “I know it’s dorky, but they’re my babies.” Evie gestured to the red skates swung over one shoulder. “Evie Fenny doesn’t rent her skates.”

   “That’s El, come meet her,” Max pulled Evie off after she got one wave at Susan behind the table setting up. “Billy’s grabbing stuff from the car. He drove us.” 

   El Hopper was a tiny thing. Almost like a little bird compared to Hopper’s hulking frame behind her. She peered around and seemed at instant ease upon seeing Max.

   “El, this is my neighbor, Evie," Max introduced them, "she’s cool.”

   El made this gesture like she had a needle and poked at her hand.

   “Yes!” Max got it, tugging Evie’s arm. “She taught me the felting thing.”

   “Hope the sharp objects weren’t a bother in your house, Chief Hopper.” Evie perked up at Jim with a sheepish expression. “I should have asked you, I know it might seem a little dangerous.”

   He actually laughed at that. If only she knew the danger these kids had gotten into prior.

   “Believe me, crafts are a welcomed change.”

   “El, nice to meet you. I’m Evie. Max talks about you all the time.” Evie held out her hand and the young girl looked shocked. “Good things.”

   A slower smile crossed. She took Evie’s hand to shake it. Awkward about her navigation but trying to take everything in. Clearly never been to a party like this one. Kids of various ages circled the floor on skates. Laughing. Holding hands. 

   “Max...talks about you too. I like your hair.” El mirrored. Peered to Hopper with a pleased expression he matched. She offered Max a wrapped gift. Evie grinned and touched her curls, pulled up into two high, rounded buns.

   “C’mon, let me show you the table they’re setting up.” Max took El’s wrist to usher her off.

   “Are you...staying to skate?” Evie turned to the Chief.

   “El’s, ah, not used to crowds. She came from some unfortunate circumstances. I’d like to stay close. First party. Maybe I’m hovering.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. Not in uniform. Evie beamed a little.

   “She’s young, you’re worried. It’s sweet, actually. You’re just being a good dad.” The smile seemed to dither in her eyes. Even when Jack was married to Mona, he wasn't always around. Work and trips kept him busy, but he stayed to close to Evie the moment he arrived home with his little gifts and endless stories. “Don’t come running over if she falls, we got her.”

   “Yeah, uh, if you could keep an eye on El when you see her around. That would mean a lot to me. I know you babysat the Henderson kid. El doesn’t need a babysitter, she’s just… This is new for her.” Jim gestured. Digging for a smoke he couldn’t have in the immediate area. 

   “Heather, Carol, and I will keep an eye out.”

   “Carol?” He chuckled. “Perkins?”

   “Oh, yeah, we made up. Funny thing.”

   “Almost as funny as you hanging out with the Hargrove boy through winter.” He quirked his brow.

   “What can I say, Chief...” Evie shrugged. “I’m...branching out.”

   As if on cue, Billy paced in a side door. Bag clutched under one arm. He caught Evie’s glance instantly. Both of them locked in and back out on cue. Blue eyes shifted up and down because she was wearing his denim jacket over a little lacy, floral top tucked into her jeans.

   Neil would arrive and they had an act to keep up. Ignoring each other.

   “I’ll sit far." Jim offered. "Pretend I’m not here.”

   She about cackled, lost in thought still.

   “I’ll just pretend you’re my real dad,” Evie winced at herself, saw him pause with some subtle awe, “oof, I’m not sure where that came from. Ouch. Okay. Walking away now. Sorry, Chief.”

   “Evie.” He eased a gentle hand toward her. “What I said. If there’s...anything going on. You can talk to me. On or off the record.”

   “Yeap. Right. I’m okay. I’m...I’m gonna...skate. Yeah. Sorry. Oh, my…” Evie whirled to hurry off, cringing all the way to the table. “I think I just had a mental break.”

   “What?” Heather had chuckled.

   “Nothing. Time to skate?” Came Evie’s begging. Agreement followed.

   Hopper made himself scarce with a cigarette and plate of cheese fries in the corner. Billy plopped himself into a chair behind the decorated table, looking disinterested. Not catching Evie’s eyes while she sat with the girls to put her skates on. Just watched Susan set out plates for pizza and cake. 

   Evie went out with Heather first for a lap, both of them giggling and pulling little stunts to show off for Tommy who was on the ground as Carol pulled at him. Max jumped over his leg, cackling before she tried to get El to come out with them. 

   “Kinda reminds me of us. They’re too cute.” Heather quipped, whirling to skate backward. They joined the younger girls, hoping to get El relaxed and away from the wall she seemed to cling to. Every turn, Evie shot Billy a look. Got his lips quirking before he ruefully was peering away. 

   “Do you want to skate, Billy?” Susan had asked after a beat, weary of the music already. Bit of a glittery disco mess. That same dreamy rose haze in the air.

   “About as much as I want to give my old man a sponge bath, Susan.” Billy frowned for effect and dropped it when she actually laughed at him. It was an easier thing for them to talk without Neil’s shadow. 

   “Well, the offer is open if you want to.” Susan thought to tell him Evie looked beautiful today when she caught him staring at her for the third time but decided not to be obvious. Not yet. 

   “You’re supposed to tell me I’m being inappropriate and I’m going to send your only daughter down with me.” He recited easily.

   “I was your age once, Billy, I know how to laugh still.” Susan seemed surprised at the revelation herself. Slowly, she took a seat next to him. Not leaving another chair as a buffer like she usually did. “It might not be so bad. Her following you, you know, after this. When she’s older. She still looks up to you.”

   It became clear what Susan was asking him. Max would resent her one day down the line. For the choices she made. The things she couldn’t stop no matter how hard she tried. Maybe Billy and Max didn’t always get along, but he’d be a safer place for her than whatever was leftover in that house. Susan would always be under Neil Hargrove, but she could ensure her daughter would not be. One day.

   Billy leaned forward on his elbows, palms rubbing. He felt for his ring and remembered it was hidden under Evie’s dipping sweetheart neckline. He didn’t say anything, but met Susan’s eyes.

   “Evie’s been a good friend to her.” Susan crossed her legs and sat back to watch the girls laugh. Slowly easing into the conversation. El wobbled, holding hands with Max and Evie to gain some speed. Heather was trying to help Carol steady poor Tommy. “Don’t you think so?”

   “I haven’t noticed.” Billy turned his head aside.

   “She’s very pretty. Kind. That’s all I’m saying. She and her mother, they’re nice neighbors to have on Cherry.”

   “Jesus, Susan, why don’t you date them both?” Billy shot up to go to the snack counter. Susan ghosted this smile after him, hands clasping. “Cheese fries. Jalapenos...Extra jalapenos.” He got his plate and turned to see Chief Hopper’s cigarette glow red. “You got any more of those? My pack is out and they don't have a machine in this joint.”

   Jim just eyed him.

   “I’m legal.” Billy puffed before a stick flicked across the table. “Camels. Unfiltered. Disgusting. Are you a flannel hobo of some kind with those?”

   The Chief gawked at him.

   “Don’t you smoke Reds? Baby’s first cigarette.”

   Billy matched him. Offended.

   “I’m smoking with the big boys, Hop. You should try it.”

   “You in a place to complain, kid?” Jim reached to take it back before Billy swiped, lighting up to puff. 

   “No, sir.” His lighter snapped shut. “You unable to cut the cord or is dressing like a lumberjack to hang out at a 70s roller disco a hobby?”

   “Haven’t seen you down at the station in a while. Few months, in fact. Turning over a new leaf this year?” Jim remarked instead, leaning forward on his elbows.

   “Aw. You miss me or something? Your boys finally get tired of chasing me down? Or trying to.” Billy gave this comedic pout, head turning to eye Evie again. Graceful swan that she was out there. His jacket hanging off her shoulders, exposing that neck. Little wisps of curls swayed about from her space buns decorated with matching glittery star barrettes, loose hair framing her face. Brown eyes flicked up and he snatched his gaze away. “Guess I found something else to get into that isn’t trouble. You guys bore me down there, I like to be amused.”

   “The real crime-stopper, boredom. Color me impressed and shocked.” Jim seemed to like that, eyes rolling. Billy puffed and swept a piece of tobacco from his mouth. “I guess whatever you’re doing, keep it up.” He watched Billy crunch on some salty jalapenos, plucking five gooey fries at once to swallow them down. Almost starved.

   “I intend to.” Billy flicked his greasy fingers to his brow. “Chief.”

   “William.” 

   Billy mumbled as he went off, finishing the smoke to flick it out a back door. Eyes shifting to watch the girls plus poor Tommy. El was already better than him.

   “Man, I’m dying out here. Help me. I’ll tag you in.” Tommy scrambled up the sidewall and clung, out of breath. Freckles all dewy.

   “You wanted to be a good boyfriend,” Billy cackled for good measure, "that'll teach you."

   “Feed me a fry,” Tommy begged over the barrier.

   “Fuck out of here, they’re mine. My dad will show soon so you can disappear to a corner and get your own damn fries.” To make it a point, Billy stood there and fed himself.

   Behind Tommy, Max skidded and fell with Evie barely catching her. Both girls had gone down in a fit of giggling.

   “We’re fine, go on!” Max waved to Heather and El ahead of them. Carol came to steal Tommy back as Billy craned to see his step-sister.

   “You alright?” Evie was picking her up when Max’s shirt slipped closer to her pale shoulder, flashing a burst of purple there the size of a softball. “Oh, my god.” It slipped out before she could stop it.

   “That’s-!” Max cut herself off and fixed her shirt. Spring was creeping and all she donned was long-sleeved and frumpy. Dressing almost like Susan. “I fell, you know, on my board.” Evie tried to give her the dignity of a look that said she believed it. Must have cracked. “Evie, it’s nothing. Don’t worry. Please.”

   Dressing like Susan. Sounding like Billy.

   “Max, my house is-”

   “I know, but don’t… Don’t say anything. Not to Billy or my mom, ah… Neil’s here.” Max put her head down and skated around Evie to go away. 

   There was something particularly helpless about watching a young girl flee obediently to her monster. Evie wondered if this was what she looked like to Billy headed to Fredrick's place.

   Small. Scared. Lost.

   Neil Hargrove started with words. Lots of horrible words that whittled Max down to a hard pit. Then pushing. Then some grabbing. Then shoving. Into walls mostly.

   The hit didn’t bruise Max. It was more of a swipe to make her go to her room for talking back. Whatever that meant to Neil. But, he was drunk and he caught her jaw with an open palm. That stayed red for the day until she snuck a pack of frozen peas, not wanting Susan or Billy to know.

   But, the swipe sent her into the dining room table. Left the violet petals bursting under her skin. Evie lost the urge to skate and came out. Saw Billy’s eyes again and paused to help Heather usher El out for food. 

   “You’re a natural.” Evie complimented which earned a full smile. El opened her mouth to speak before Billy appeared in front of them.

   “They’re making us sing.” He cocked his head, peering at El. “You’re the one with the funny name, aren’t you?”

   “Jane. But,” she seemed to have trouble staring at him for more than three extended seconds and pointed to her chest, “El.” Red crept across her cheeks. Billy towered over her, cocking a wider grin to play up the fact that she was all blushy for a pretty older boy.

   “El?” He raised one brow. “What’s the L stand for?”

   “Ignore him.” Heather pulled the younger girl around Billy as he chuckled, pausing to see Evie. Her colorless expression.

   “You okay?” He said it hard with a furrowed brow.

   “Fine.” She tried to make it sound cold but it came out near silent. Head turned down as she flitted around him to join the party.

   Neil, stiff and stoic, pressing his lips like he was at the damn DMV. Susan plastered a broader grin to dote on him after his long day, lingering close to his side as they set out pizza and readied the cake.

   It was all so routine. Like getting your shots. 

   Pizza. Sing. Candles. Wish. Cake. Gifts. Thank you.

   Billy and Evie took the farthest seats from each other. Played a game of glance and ignore that they’d made up on the spot. They both were either losing or winning.

   “Strange,” Neil remarked as he pulled Max aside for another slice. “You and the high school girls.”

   “Oh, I invited El too, she’s my age. I didn’t want to leave Evie out and the girls...they’re nice to me.”

   “They don’t dress like nice girls.”

   Heather and Carol both donned perfectly normal tees and jeans. Nothing would suffice for Neil Hargrove. Max shifted her cake around. No longer hungry for it.

   “Maybe we’ll talk about the type of girl you should hang around at a later time. The Fenny girl is nice enough, even if her shirt is a little too...low. Dresses kinda tight. Bit of an odd one. She’s different. Her friends, well...I’m just not sure, Maxine.”

   “Yes, sir.” She looked at her birthday cake like it was infested with worms. Carefully forced a bite and set it aside. 

   Max hung around. Smiled and thanked everyone after each birthday present. Even hugged Neil only cause he opened his arms at her. She said bye to El then Heather. Carol seemed to be turning in as well so Tommy went out back to get the car. 

   As the party went on and dwindled, Evie caught Billy’s eyes gesturing to the rental counter. He slipped around the corner into the many shelves and Evie turned back to see Max and Susan at the table. Neil seated in a chair not helping them clean up, eyes elsewhere. Casually, she skated around and got her arm snatched. A gasp snuffed against a pair of lips. Kisses hidden away from the world. 

   “Paid the kid a few coins and a threat to leave for ten minutes."

   Music vibrated the shelves. Evie put her arms around Billy.

   “I still have skates on.”

   “Even better. I might have a thing for girls in red skates.” Billy was all hands, holding Evie steady. Pulling one leg around his hip. Pushing denim into denim. Hot friction might have done her in any other day.

   “We are not hooking up with all the smelly rental skates.” Evie laughed into his lips, still pecking back and peering over her shoulder. She paused to see his eyes. Wanted to blurt what she’d seen on Max’s body. Even to Billy now, it felt wrong. So, she said something else.

   “Hey, we should…keep an eye on your sister, you know. It’s her birthday. She’s...She needs her big brother.”

   Billy huffed into her neck.

   “Fine, fine, but you’ll regret not taking the adventure on here.”

   “Yeah, I’m sure.” Evie shifted. “My feet hurt and we can make-out in my bed later.” She kissed his neck. “I’ll do that thing you like if you promise you went easy on the product down there.”

   “Only dotted the gold crown. Scout’s honor.” Billy winked and she rolled her eyes. He peered out first. “Give it a second then follow.”

   “Wait.” Evie thumbed her red lipstick from his mouth. “Now, shoo.” Billy licked his lips and snuck out. She waited a moment. Let the happy butterflies land in her stomach then followed. Pausing, her skates came off for more comfortable tennis shoes.

   “Evangeline, do you need a ride home with us later?” Neil had asked. 

   “No, thank you, I was getting a ride with Carol now.” She smiled and looked for red hair to say her goodbyes. “Where’d Max go?” Evie collected her coat and Susan paused to peer around.

   “She was here a second ago. Neil?” Hands dropped a stack of plates into the trash.

   “Probably went to the bathroom.” He shrugged, squinting at all the moving lights that were making his head pound. “Billy, go find your sister.” 

   Billy seemed to notice the look on Evie’s face and feel the same chill before he hurried off without fighting. Susan looked through the sea of kids and teens meandering as Evie passed her to check the ajar side door. 

   "Max!" The one flickering light at the exit made her skin crawl. A cry echoed distantly followed by a dull crash in the dark. Like a bag of trash hitting the dumpster.

   Evie dropped her skates to follow the hollowed-out sound. Exhaust swept up her nose and tires gave a harsh wail, horns sounding while a faraway car disappeared around a row of trees to get to the main street with the rest. 

   “Max!” Evie charged out. Heart painfully thudding within her ribs. 

   “Evie?” Carol heard her and footsteps echoed around the building.

   “Max!” Evie was near tears now. A shift in some fallen trash bags made her pause when two sneakers appeared around the side of the dumpster. This odd scratching sound left her lips. Evie threw herself over the tiny body there, turned Max’s limp frame over. 

   Her shirt collar was ripped open where someone grabbed her. Or tried to. Dragging then dropping her when she put up a fight. Bleeding scrapes and dirt scuffed all over her pale freckled skin from the rough tumble. Carol got to them first and pulled off her sweater to cover Max’s torso while Evie gathered her up. 

   “Help!” Carol called because Evie couldn’t. More bodies arrived. Tommy. Susan. Billy. Neil. 

   “Neil, she won’t wake up.” Susan pulled her daughter out of Evie’s arms, shaking her. Moans filtered out, but nothing else. “What happened?”

   “I don’t know. I saw...a car. It was too dark. I just found her here on the ground. Someone tried to...” Evie wheezed out and never finished, gesturing aimlessly. 

   “Susan, give Maxine to Billy. She needs a hospital.” Neil swept down as Billy urged his sister’s tiny body away. This hard. flamed expression on his face as if he wasn't really here.

   Max looked broken. Not real. A doll left under the bed for too long without love or cherished stories to comfort it. Evie felt the knees of her jeans soak through from the wet pavement. Too many words hit the air and Evie’s eyes dropped to where that harsh car had gone to.

   Evangeline wondered what kind of monster would grab up a little girl and throw her out into the trash.

   And why the world bore so many of that same design.

~~~~~

Mad Max :( Her story line is gonna start to push toward the front here and there with Evie's in pieces. Thanks again for following the fic, I really appreciate it! Please please leave some words if you enjoy the fic. XOXO Taglist open

TAGLIST:: @80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10 @charmed-asylum @unmistakablyunknown @lukespatterson @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1

[bards-anonymous]

Feasting On A Lord Session Recap [2/5/2021]

SOOOOO

Todays Session was so much fun and I loved it BUT OH IT WENT SO MUCH WORSE THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO.

Also, if you are reading this, HI ZACH [ @general-van ]

TO START, the party got separated, Darius and Phineas went one way and Harriett another. All of us dressed in different jumpsuits with NONE OF OUR GEAR. SO like....off to a fantastic start

WITH Phineas and Darius here is what happened

First they are taken to what is a really weird circus-esque version of bottle street.

They are taken by a man to a building where they are told they will need to rest up for later and that a pamphlet is in there to explain things.

On there way there they see some really odd eyeless clown like guards meant to remember the city watch.

THE SECOND they are left alone, they start to go off and look for Harriett, they end up come to a wall of light and are stopped by one of the monster like guards.

They toss said guard into the wall of light (The real MVP of the Session]

The other guards are rightfully mad about it but are also tossed into the wall of light.

Phineas....almost falls into the wall of light but is burned pretty bad for getting too close to it

They book it and hide somewhere until the guards pass them, once they are sure they are in the clear they start to head back to the building they were told to go to.

On their way they find Annie, unconscious. They pick her up and take her with them. [That makes 1/4 Npcs that we needed to find]

She wakes up and tells them a little information but before long a intercom goes off saying that all Miners should report immediately. Which Phineas and Darius were

Annie tells them to go as if they don’t they will be looked for which is very un-good. Say also says that she will try to think of something while they are gone.

They head to the mine and are told to collect 10 pounds of silver and the first 15/50 groups to do so will be rewarded. HOWEVER they are also given weapons to protect themselves....which is a red flag already.

So they head in and come across two creatures that are weeper like but not. They fight them and Phineas gets down to 1 Health....

Darius is able to dispatch them and Phineas is able to get back on his feet. The two collect the bit of silver they found and they move on. 

They take some times to listen ahead and they hear commotion and fighting..... SO they creep forward with caution. 

They find 2 guys picking up silver and a third being up someone off in the corner and on the ground was a dead body.

Darius and Phineas kill 2 really quick with 2 shots and the third turns around and looks at them panicked.... .which is fair given the situation.

The random guy starts to try to reason with them HOWEVER Darius and Phineas look over and see that the person who was being beaten up WAS THE NPC WE LOVE DEARLY, her name is Rebecca [This means 2/4 NPCs have been found!]

So...The OBVIOUS ROUTE was now VIOLENCE, for reasons stated above.

He tried to run away but Phineas using his void magic yanked him back over and he was quickly killed. [Which was what he deserved for being any amount of mean to Rebecca]

After picking up Rebecca and some more silver, they head forward to get to the exit. 

They move on to another area and Rebecca hears something so the party goes and stops for a moment. 

They look and up ahead is several dead bodies, a ton of silver and 2 of those zombie weeper things.

Rebecca and Darius shoot one, killing it. [woooooo Go REBECCA] Phineas shoots the other one, but it is still standing. 

Rebecca swings on it but misses, it takes its turn to swing and hit her back, and knocks the ever loving daylights out of her.......[NOO]

Darius, mad about that, kills that last creature and finds that they had been guarding an elevator. 

They collect their silver and BOOK IT out of the mine.....cause damn.....

SO HARRIETT HAD HER OWN HELL OF A TIME.....

This is what happened with her....

Her cart dropped her into some water where she blacked out. Already a fantastic sign....

She wakes up in a prison cell. Chains are attached to the wall, a blanket sits on the floor and a dog bowl sits on the floor as well. 

Harriett picks up the bowl and looks at it. Inscribed on the side is “Lion #3″ [NOW the second I heard that, I was like oh no oh no oh no oh no......It was panic time.]

As she is looking at this she hears yelling from outside her cell. She knows that voice.... ITS HAZEL. [3/4 npcs we were missing were found] 

The two talk and Harriett takes a moment to try and figure out a plan. She looks back to the chains on the wall and figures if she can pull it free, she can use it as a weapon.

UNFORUTNATLY.... she makes a lot of noise and one of the clown guards spiders its way down to look at her and its opens her cell.

WHEN I TELL YOU SHE WAS MORTIFIED, SHE WAS MORTIFIED

Harriett already has some issues with weird void magic monster [which is about to become 10 times worse, just you wait] but this does not help to sooth her fear. 

The creature moves away and start to open other cells, and then calls everyone to the center.

After a small banter, Harriett and Hazel fall into line.

A man, a ring leader looking type starts to make little announcements and around them is a whole circus full of these clown guard creatures. Harriett is terrified and Hazel points it out. 

The man pulls out a dice and rolls for the first event and Harriett is called forward. 

It is an obstacle course. 

of course it is. but this one has acid and long falls and clown guard monsters that attack you. 

Harriett and 2 others race and JUST BARELY HARRIETT WINS 

she falls back in like and nearly hyperventilating. 

Hazel gets called next and has to fight all these creatures. Harriett warns her to not be cocky. [anyone wanna guess what she was]

At first she does pretty well for herself but the last fight she start to lose and uses her void powers to help her. WHICH IS SO UN GOOOOOOD

The ring leader says its a shame she had to cheat to win, which angers her and she gets in his face

and.....and she swings on him.

UNFORUTNATLY, on impact the sword breaks.....and he smacks the life out of her with the staff he had in his hand. 

She fell back to the ground, un moving [WHICH IS NOT GOOD AT ALL] 

Harriett is watching in horror absolutely frozen. 

The ring leader tells the guards to take her away and to make sure she cant do that again.....which means....she is probably gonna lose her arm....

THis leaves HARRIETT ALL ALONE [ back to 2/4 npcs found....]

The ring leader sends them off sayign they need to rest for tomorrow.

SO now Harriett is at half health, 2 slashes across her cest, all alone, no gear, near panicking

So this is very character changing actually, cause now Harriett is away from her friends, surrounded by the thing she fears the very most, and she feels hopeless. 

She is gonna go feral. Harriett is gonna have to go after Hazel because that is the only person she know where they are and she won’t leave her behind. She has 2 plans and she HATES BOTH OF THEM

OH OH OH and something I noticed, Hazel acts a lot like Harriett did at the start of the Campaign. Harriett sees herself in Hazel and WANTS TO HELP HER. Harriett knows what that sort of doom and pride mentality can bring and does not want to see Hazel die. She actually kind of likes Hazel’s company even if she is kinda snarky.  

She is just a little street girl, she has never dealt with something like this before. She has never felt fear like this before and its messing with her bad. Because of the 2 painting incidents, the last one being the worst, Harriett is scared of the void monsters and such. AND NOW SHE IS ALONE SURROUNDED BY THEM. 

I made a post a while back, about how with all the stress, Harriett’s hair would start to grey. Depending on what happens, I might have it so that this series of events cause her hair to grey out of stress and fear. 

Worst part is, she’s scared to die alone. She has so much to tell Phineas and Darius, She has SO MUCH to tell Joseph but in her mind, she may never see any of them again. So now she has no idea what to do in what feels like a hopeless situation to her and she has NO IDEA how to deal with and handle this fear she is feeling. [which she has never felt at this magnitude.] She is gonna break down...

SO ITS BEEN A CRAZY SESSION.....Harriett is not doing well at all. Phineas and Darius are alright....And we still have no idea where Zed is at.....so I CAN NOT WAIT FOR NEXT SESSION AT ALL!!!!!!

[pact-mom-kyrie]

Hey after a year I wrote a thing. I called it “Brooding nerds“ because is about Alesso (sniper, priest of Grenth) being broody after the event of Hall of Chains. He got some weird powers because hey, he had been dead once before, in Queensdale. He feels alienated. Fron his brothers, from the guild, from everything. So his brother Enzo (mesmer, nerd) goes to talk to him.

Shout out to @disaster-bi-canach for always being there. I mention her main Sinéad here. Go and read all her stuff. Is really good.

Also HAPPY FANFIC DAY!!!

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The nights on Istan were cold, or at least the wind blowing up Champion’s Dawn made him feel like it. The little town was gleaming under the moonlight, pretty like a painting with Churrhir cliffs beyond. 

This was the ancient homeland, thought Alesso. Or at least part of it. He was not knowledgeable enough about the story of Zephaniah, he has bearely heard the story of his ancestor, the man he had only known as Zephare. The only thing he knew for sure was what Koss had said to him: “Another touched by the gods?! By Dwayna, never knew a child of Zephaniah could get this pale, huh?”

Somehow it hurt. But he didn’t say anything. Koss seemed like the kind of nosy grandpa he had never known. Salva noticed though and glared at the old man. Somehow the judgmental gaze of sweet, kind Salvatore made him feel guilty, or at least act like it.

It felt nice, but it was not enough to make him feel better.

That was the reason behind him being sit down, brooding on his own in a cliff, reaper-forged rifle by his side. He had given the excuse of going up just to shoot any awakened that dared come close to the town. But there were none, otherwise, he would have seen them walking through the plains or the breach… that was kilometers away.

Such accuracy was unnatural.

“The eyes of a god” Maesta said while they were in the Priory. He only thought it was about the fact that now they shone like embers, but he realized soon enough that it was something more terrible than that.

When he shot an awakened soldier.

From the cliffs.

With his eyes closed.

“Now you’re just fuckin’ cheatin’ partner” Exclaimed Johnny, his voice a mixture of anger and excitement. 

Alesso knew that yeah, he was cheating. But he couldn’t stop it. He had been dead twice, and that allowed him to gain some weird boon, and it felt extremely weird. After all, who else could say they had held a tiny bit of that kind of power?

All of sudden, a portal appeared by his side, and from its glimmering depths, a figure appeared. Tall and aristocratic.

“Good evening, little brother, nice weather for alienated brooding isn’t it?” Lorenzo has managed, after all their years as adventurers, perfected the art of princely sneer. Alesso glared at him, but could only mumble a weak curse. Years ago, he would have said “Yeah, fuck you”, and close himself up. But not now. Not like before.

“Don’t you have an entire observatory to read? Or did you run out of paper for interviewing zombie grandpa?”

The mesmer almost laughed, but he just gasped as if scandalized “Don’t call Koss Dejarin like that, young man” he faked the intonation of a scolding mother “he is not your grandpa!”

Alesso snorted, his devilish laughter barely escaping his lips “So you’re accepting he is a zombie, right?”

“Well, to be honest...” Enzo got lost in thought for a second, half-joking, half-serious “Awakened have peculiar characteristics, and have different needs from other types of risen-type creature, so they belong to their own category in Howard’s classification of unde-”

“You fucking nerd” The sniper rolled his eyes, huffing slightly “Whatever, tell everyone I’m ok, just thinking of stuff and… stuff”

The redhead sighed deeply and sat down, looking slightly distraught. “Oh no, I came here because I am worried, you little twerp. You’ve been way too quiet and sullen. That is not normal”

“What is normal then?” Claimed Alesso, wiggling a bit far from his brother. He was slightly scared, not ready to face any of his siblings, and tried to mask his fear with annoyance.

It wasn’t working.

“You being with us, smiling when no one looks, competing with Johnny over shots, praying for the fallen of Elona, just...” Enzo looked down, into the town “not like this, not as if we still were the same idiots running around Queensdale”

Alesso winced. Queensdale. It had been five years, it used to feel like a month ago, and now it felt like yesterday.

“Gyro behaved the same when I came back this time. He checked my pulse, he looked at my pupils, almost asked me for a blood test, as if he believed I was… as if I am-”

“You are not dead, Alessandro Zeppeli” The voice of Enzo broke a bit as if he was trying not to sob “You re here, with us. Still the same fool that tried to wrestle a spider queen, still the same child that broke into the home of Thomas Silvertogue to learn how to be a spy”

Those words felt like a knife stabbing his heart. Lorenzo was not the kind of man who broke easily, even if his emotions were there for everyone to see. It was not simple nostalgia, but a sort of awed reminiscence, and Alesso could not help to feel it too. 

“I’m scared” He murmured. It would have been better if he didn’t remember the last time he had said that. The sight of the ashes of Commander Steinbrecher in an urn, the greatest hero of all Tyria, had sunken his heart into the abyss of terror.

“I know” Enzo replied softly “The letter you gave me. Maesta… she wrote about everything”

Alesso lowered his head, feeling smaller. Silent in his own uncertainty. He had a snarky comment ready, but he felt too tired to say it. He was tired of hiding his thoughts behind the words of an asshole.

His brother sighed “You didn’t read it” It was not a question “You had a letter from a noble of Kryta, an agent of the Shining Blade, and didn’t even peek under the seal, knowing it may have some valuable intel. Thank you”

“What? She is my friend. Besides I don’t know if she had enchanted it or something” the thief tried to explain, not ready to show how much he cared about their relationship “Also I don’t wanna read the correspondence of someone whom actually thinks you are hot enough to fuck”

Lorenzo scoffed, no doubt rolling his eyes. “There were no details of that kind if you are interested, dear brother. Actually...” His tone changed to a more solemn one “She was asking for an explanation about… the way I said goodbye in Lion’s Arch”

The sniper raised his gaze. That was not a good memory, if anything, it was extremely awkward to remember Enzo being a jerk towards anyone, more so the woman he loved. “Did she break up with you via letter? I mean you mocked her for being emotional...”

“I am perfectly aware of what I did and I am ready to face punishment for my actions” Once more, the princely manners return “but that is not the point, as a matter of fact, the letter made me realize that we have something in common”

“That we deserve a slap for being assholes in serious moments?” Alesso raised an eyebrow, cringe clawing his heart. Enzo looked surprised, not ready for such a display of painful self-awareness.

“No, not that. Maybe a bit of that, but this is something completely different. Something we cannot… solve, so to speak” Enzo looked above them, gazing at the starry sky, “She wrote you were given a portion of Grenth’s power. As well as she did, but since you’ve been to his realm twice, your abilities got… stronger”

The eyes of a god. The reason for his accuracy, his eyes changing, now gleaming in the darkness. 

“Here is the question, Alesso: do you think you’re the only one who has felt the power of a god running through his blood?” It was a serious question. Way too precise. He would have expected it from Salva, or from Commander Sirhasi, but not Lorenzo. Then again, he had the bad habit of underestimating Lorenzo.

“I think so. I am the only one who has been so close to the gods...” he stated with unnerving confidence “Damn now I feel like an arrogant little shit”

“Well you arrogant little shit!” the mesmer exclaimed joyfully, opening his arms “You are SO wrong I could write a whole treatise on how wrong you are. But since I love you so much, I will give you a short version: I have felt the power of a god too, and it was fucking awful”

And so, Alessandro Zeppeli, a descendant of the house of Zephaniah, Lightbringer of the Order of Whispers, opened his mouth and gasped like a fish out of water. Because he had no idea what his brother was talking about.

“W- what? When? Why?!” He almost yelled, more confused than ever. He looked all around him, somehow waiting for someone to appear, to confirm it was all a joke at his expense.

“Do you remember the battle in Lion’s Arch against the minions of Zhaitan?” 

How would he forget that? He had spent days with Ihan and Joseph cleaning the city, trying to heal his sadness with risen’s blood. Until Commander Sirhasi asked if he was alright and he ended up crying like the child he was into the norn woman’s bosom.

“Yes, that face tells me that you do” Enzo whispered. Maybe lost in his own memories of those awful times. “Steward Gixx told Magisters Irene and Gialinn to help him with a relic of Balthazar. He thought that someone had to wield its power and since it was a human god...”

“It had to be a human, and there were no other nerds close to you” he muttered.

“Yes. I had to carry a part of the spirit of a god of fire, fury, and mass murder. As powerful as I felt, it was not a good experience. I thought nothing of it later, just a weird experience in an extremely hard time. Until Balthazar returned..” he lowered his head, while Alesso put the pieces together in his head.

“Whatever remained of the fucker within you, resonated with him, then” The sniper stated, only understanding the implications a second later “So your behavior, the fire that sometimes escaped from your illusions… that was Balthazar...”

Enzo nodded “Yes. One time I spat molten embers, one night I cried fire, and sometimes I just wanted to kill someone. Anyone. And I hid it all from everyone but my colleagues of the Priory”

“Well shit, even I didn’t saw that coming, except the part when you almost scared Cesare to death, of course,” Alesso looked at his brother, making him recoil slightly “Did you use your illusions to hide? Because you are good, but not that good”

“You rude prick. I happen to be that good” Lorenzo sneered “I was scared of any of you realizing it, I didn’t want you t think I was going to join the Zaishen or something like that”

Alesso moved closer to his brother “I get it... but if there was anyone of us who would have joined that prick, it would have been anyone but you” he saw the mesmer smiling, moved by his trust “After all, the stick in your ass wouldn’t let you bend the knee towards that monster”

“Fuck off” the strange laughter of Enzo pierced the night, sounding like a weird harpy in the cliffs “The point is: you are not alone, dumbass. Your god loved you. Maybe all that happened is sad, and I cannot imagine how you feel about it but...” He sighed and hugged Alesso from the side “You are still out little brother. The one who creeps us out because he looks a lot like dad. You’re part of the best and strongest guild in Tyria. The weirdest guy of the whole Pact...”

Now it was the turn of Alesso to laugh, like a tiny devil mocking Champion’s Dawn “I get it, you old cheesy geezer” He returned the hug, and felt his loneliness fading away “Thank you, really”

“I know, I am amazing. You are welcome” The fake pride of Lorenzo was even worse than his stupid smile, and he knew it “No, but in all seriousness, it is alright. You can tell me every time you feel bad about your existential crisis, at least regarding your godly issues. You’re my brother, and we are very similar....”

“Ew. Don’t remind me that. Makes me wanna hide under a rock” Alesso broke the hug, stood up, and took his rifle before looking up to the sky, smiling “Maybe Grenth is gone but... I feel I can still carry his will as long as I am with you, my family... bunch of losers” 

Lorenzo also stood up, stretching his back “You better. Without you, we wouldn’t be as good as we are. Also, I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my main familial obligation without you”

Knowing what kind of obligation he was talking about, Alesso sneered and said a single sentence. “To keep Cesare humble? Alright. Seems all this ‘Hero of Three Nations’ thing has started to go to his head, do you have a plan?”

The redhead smiled, malice covering his face “Oh yes, it includes portals. Lots of portals” he stated while opening one by their side.

“I may have an idea, but you lead the way”

The two brothers entered the shimmering pond of light, and for a moment there was nothing but peaceful silence in Istan.

Until the shriek of a heroic guardian pierced the night.

[shadowthrone-ammanas]

For the drabble event: Someone decides to pretend to be either Snatcher or the prince’s vengeful spirit (ooh spooky) as part of a scooby-doo style plot/ halloween thing/ theme park gimmick that wound up being a bit insensitive/ etc... Snatcher is not amused.

Thank you for the request!

Halloween Festival

Hat Kid had assured him that the Halloween Festival at the theme park above the Metro would be fun. She’d begged and pleaded and bothered him until he’d agreed to go with her. He needed to get out of the forest more anyway so he’d agreed to go to get her to shut up.

He now wished he hadn’t. It was too loud and noisy. Kids and teens were everywhere, running amok like wild animals. All the ‘scary’ stuff was annoying in how cheap and gimmicky it was. He was the only real scary thing in the entire place and he was disguised to look like Hat Kid, just with a different Halloween mask. But all of that was mild in comparison to what he was facing now.

‘VANESSA’S MANOR’ read the sign in large red letters in the font meant to resemble words scrawled in blood that was so overdone it had become tacky years ago. Underneath it in smaller letters read ‘Experience the Terror of Queen Vanessa the Ice Witch and Her Fabled Prince!’ It was a ‘haunted’ house meant for children. That wasn’t a tale meant for children. And what was with the ‘Her Fabled Prince’ part? He certainly wasn’t her prince, never was, even if that is what she’d called him.

“Snatcher what’s…” Hat Kid began as she backtracked to him. “Oh, that’s uh… something, huh?” At least she had the decency to be made mildly uncomfortable by it.

“Nah, it’s fine kid, let’s go inside.” He grabbed her wrist and dragged her around towards the entrance.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, I’m sure. I’m already here just to suffer, I might as well maximize on that, right?” And he was morbidly curious about just how bad it would be. The tale of Queen Vanessa and the Prince had been told in multiple different ways over the years. None of them ever got it right due to no one but him and Vanessa knowing the exact details and his early efforts to erase the tale – only really succeeding in erasing his name and who exactly he’d been – but they’d all handled it with mostly respect so he’d had little problems with any of it. But this was something else entirely. This was a funhouse meant to scare and entertain children at a theme park.

Getting in was the standard affair of ‘you must be this tall to enter’ and paying for tickets before waiting for an appropriately sized group to enter with. Hat Kid paid for it because she was stupidly rich for a kid and all of what little money Snatcher snatched from his victims went to buying books.

The first room was dark and cold with machine produced fog rolling across the ground accompanied by the distant sound of rattling chains and dripping water as the door rolled ominously closed behind them. On one shadowy wall hung a figure held up by chains wrapped around their upper arms. By happenstance they’d gotten the chained position right, most retellings had him chained by his ankle on the floor or by his wrists above his head, toes barely able to touch the floor. This was so much worse, it made him angry and nauseous at the same time.

With a clap of fake thunder, ‘lighting’ flashed through a phony barred window on the wall, illuminating the figure, making it easy for even mortal eyes to see. They’d hired and actual human for this role at least, not a cat like would’ve been expected given the location. A few seconds later, with the next boom of thunder and lighting, the human ripped himself off the wall with vengeful wail and fake screech of breaking metal. It was loud and flashy, followed a rush towards the group, spooking most of them into running deeper into the next room.

Snatcher didn’t even flinch, he’d known that was coming. Instead he glared at ‘the Prince’ wearing fake tattered regal clothing and makeup to look like a zombie of all things. He hated it. He was tempted to either snatch the actor’s soul and eat it in front of him or blast him into bits, making this a true horror scene and then eat his soul as it left his broken body. Before he could do either though…

“You’re rude,” Hat Kid said, still standing beside him. “You know the Prince was a real person, right? What Queen Vanessa did to him and the entire kingdom isn’t some scary folktale, it really happened. So, you shouldn’t make light of his suffering by turning it into a haunted house attraction full of cheap jump scares and spooky sounds.”

The actor paused and sighed. “I don’t really care. I was paid to do this so bring it up with my employer if offends you that much. So just…”

Snatcher summoned a row of blasts under the wall under the wall the actor had been ‘hanging’ from. That parts not obliterated by the blast crashed to the ground with a crash, dragging part of the ceiling down with it. Both Hat Kid and the actor startled, ducking away. Snatcher took advantage of this by snatching the actor’s soul, grabbing his attention. Before he could more than open his mouth to make a protest, Snatcher ate it, killing him instantly. A few more quick blasts in the right places had the rest of the ceiling starting to fall onto them. Before it could though, Snatcher pulled Hat Kid into his pocket dimension.

“Uh… Snatcher,” Hat Kid said as he snapped into his usual form, abandoning the mask and cloak. “I feel like we could’ve handled that without violence.”

“Yes, but I didn’t want to. They were making a mockery of my death; I’m not going to stand for that.” Even under the good mood eating a soul had put him in, he was still outraged. He’d been chained up in that basement for days at the very least, possibly a week or more, he had no idea because it had felt like an eternity before Moonjumper finally came along and got him out. And those assholes had turned it into a cheap jump scare as part of a theme park attraction.

Hat Kid took a deep breath and sighed, shaking her head. “Well, I can’t blame you for being upset, that was very pecked up. And you only killed one guy so I guess that’s not that bad. The Halloween Festival is probably ruined now though so that’s a bummer. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. Thank you for coming with me. Sorry it ended like that for you though.”

“Nah, I got to eat a soul so I feel like overall, that wasn’t a bad way to end the night.” And he’d ended a mockery of his suffering and death, that was good. Hopefully people would learn and never do that again. That was unlikely though, the further in time they got away from the event, the more people would view it as not a huge deal. He wasn’t going to tolerate it if he ever saw any such thing ever again though. So anyone who tried it better watch out if he was in the area at the time.

For this request event.

[writingquestionsanswered]

how can i make a plot feel more like a plot rather than just things happening to characters ? i have a general idea for the plot but 1) i dont feel its strong enough 2) i dont know where to end my story (character travels to an unfamiliar place, learns about the place and then what ?)

Fleshing Out Plot Ideas

If you’re writing a short story, original or fan-fiction, you really just need a point or story goal to tie it all together. What are you trying to accomplish with this story? What are you trying to illustrate about the world or the character to the reader? When you figure out what that is, it’s easier to hammer a plot into something that accomplishes that goal.

If you’re writing longer fiction, such as a novella or novel, there are a few things that need to happen in order to take your idea from a “plot idea” to an actual plot:

1. Character Arc/Internal Goal - Your protagonist or their world (or both) needs to transform throughout the story. Most stories follow a positive change character arc, meaning that something negative about the protagonist transforms into something positive by the end of the story. For example: a character who is timid and afraid of the world learns to be bold and courageous.  This thing that needs to change for the better represents their internal goal. Sometimes, with darker stories, the protagonist will go through a negative change arc, meaning that they start out with positive traits (ie: they’re confident and successful) which, through the course of the story, turn negative (ie: they become insecure and unsuccessful). In this case, they may have a lofty or undesirable internal goal which precipitates their downfall. Once in a while, you’ll see stories with static character arcs, meaning that the protagonist themselves doesn’t change, but they create change in their world or another character. In this case, their internal goal is represented by their need to help/change the other character or the world.

2. Inciting Incident/External Goal - Longer stories can’t just be a bunch of random events that happen to your character. These events need to help bring about whatever change you decided upon in #1. The best way to kick off this life changing chain of events is to turn your character’s world upside down. This is the inciting incident... the moment when something happens that changes your protagonist’s normal life forever. In The Hunger Games, it was Prim’s name being chosen at the Reaping, which caused Katniss to volunteer in her place. In Harry Potter, it was Harry getting his letter to Hogwarts. In Twilight, the inciting incident was multi-part, beginning with Bella’s move to Forks, meeting the Cullens, and ultimately figuring out Edward was a vampire. In response to this life disrupting incident, your protagonist needs to form a goal... willingly or because they have no other choice... and this goal is what’s going to carry the rest of the plot. This is called the “external goal” because this isn’t anything to do with what’s inside themselves, this is a real, tangible goal they want to accomplish. In Twilight, Bella’s external goal was to stay alive despite the nomads being after her. In The Hunger Games, Katniss, too, wanted to survive so she could go home and take care of her mom and sister. In The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Frodo needs to take the ring to Mount Doom so it can be destroyed.

3. Antagonist/Obstacles - Your story also needs to have an antagonist or antagonistic force. This can be a literal “bad guy” with “henchmen,” it could be a creature like a rampaging dragon or escaped dinosaurs, a natural disaster like a flood or asteroid, or it could even be your character themselves, wherein they’re their own worst enemy. Whoever or whatever your antagonist is, they or it will create obstacles that make it harder for your character to reach their goal. If the inciting incident was an alien invasion, and your protagonist’s external goal is to escape the occupied city to reach a huge safe zone the where the Earth military is amassing, the aliens (and any agents acting on behalf of the aliens) will be the source of problems or obstacles that your protagonist has to overcome on their way to achieving their goal. Sometimes they will be successful in overcoming these obstacles, sometimes they’ll fail and have to try again or find a workaround. But this struggle to overcome obstacles on the way to achieving the external goal is what creates the action of the story.

4. The Final Showdown - Somewhere in the last quarter of your story, your protagonist is going to have to confront the antagonist/antagonistic force in a big final showdown. If your antagonist is an evil wizard, this will be the big magic battle. If your antagonist is a fire-breathing dragon tormenting your protagonist’s village, this is the moment when your protagonist is going to unleash everything they’ve got to try and kill the dragon once and for all. If the antagonist is a bunch of zombies in a zombie apocalypse, this is the moment when your character leads all the zombies into a field and sets it ablaze. Whatever happens, this is also the moment for your character to demonstrate how they’ve changed. For example, if they were timid and afraid of the world at the beginning, this is the moment where they prove they’re bold and courageous.

5. The Denouement and Ending - In most stories, the protagonist is going to be successful in vanquishing or surviving the antagonist/antagonistic force, though in some stories the protagonist will fail. Either way, the denouement is where all the dust settles following the final showdown. Injuries are tended to, losses are mourned, a promise to rebuild is made. Then, the very last thing we should see is what your character’s life is like afterward. In the beginning of the story, before the inciting incident, we see the character in their normal world, before everything turns upside down. This is the opposite of that. Now you show what our character’s life is like after their world was turned upside down and they tried to right it again. In many stories, this will be a happy ending. I some stories, this will simply be a hopeful ending. In fewer stories, it may be an all out sad or tragic ending. If you take all of these things into account, they should guide you not only through the action of the story, but lead you to a natural ending as well. Good luck!

[that-one-fandom-vore-blog]

chained and bound (to this hopeless town)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3

Ao3 Link

Good things happen to bad people. Bad things happen to good people. Which must mean Anna Shephard must be the best fucking person to have ever lived, or, at least, the best person left alive. Lucky her. To be fair, she hasn’t got much competition. As far as she knows, she, Steph, and Nick are the only people still alive.  After a year of fighting off the undead, struggling to come to terms with her new reality, Anna is suddenly thrown back into the midst of her past without so much as a warning. Old friends, old faces, and old fears all resurface, along with zombies that seem to be getting smarter with every new day. So much for a warm welcome…

Co-written with the wonderful @thebadhalfofafandom! Warnings up here for: Flashbacks, panic elements, gore, swearing, zombies, and vore.

Anna stirred awake on a strange, almost leathery surface. Her body was warm, which was something almost foreign to her. It was never warm when her, Nick, and Steph settled down to camp. She wasn’t even wearing a blanket, yet there was warmth surrounding her, seeming to radiate from whatever she was laying on. 

How?

Groggily blinking a few times, vision clouded from sleep, Anna tried to sit upright. The surface beneath her was a little soft, but familiar in a way she couldn’t place. Confusion flickered across her bleary features, and as she gave a wide yawn—

A sharp pang of hunger made her almost double over. 

Now she was awake. 

Focusing on her surroundings with increasing incredulity, Anna swore she saw fingers boxing her in, and as she struggled to sit more upright, she was made aware of the fact that she was sitting on the palm of a gigantic hand. 

Why am I—

Sitting up in an instant, looking around her in a bleary, sleepy panic, Anna managed to get to her hands and knees. The hand beneath her was soft, and as she knelt, her heart rate slowly beginning to climb, she looked to where the hand connected to a wrist, her wide eyes tracking up an arm clad in a familiar-looking sweater before settling on something that made that confusion fade. 

—Oh. Right.  

John’s huge face blocked the rest of her view, and when her eyes settled on him, he bared his teeth in what looked like an attempt at a smile. His head tilted slightly to the left. A soft little snort escaped him, and gently, Anna felt herself being raised up to his face with a slow, jerky motion. She didn’t bother trying to grapple one of his fingers for balance, she simply stared up at his big brown eyes in a mixture of intimidation and confusion. 

He didn’t say a word. To his credit, Anna didn’t really think he could say much, but it was still so genuinely unnerving to watch him give a slow, weighted sort of blink. A low huff escaped his throat, causing Anna’s ribcage to vibrate with the sound. 

Right. This is a thing, now. 

Skin prickling, Anna shifted her weight and turned her attention to the rest of the room.  There was an awkwardness that clung to her, heavy on her shoulders as she scrutinized their surroundings. They were still in the base, from what she could tell. The walls were riddled with holes, bits of the walls chipped off and broken in places. John’s back was pressed up against the closest wall⁠—

He’s sitting and he’s still enormous. 

⁠—and as she carefully craned her neck to see around his head, she could see other scattered bits of rubble decorating the floor near him. wall. It was cold, she was noticing, but not nearly as cold as last night. John’s uneven breaths had warmed her some, anyway. Gooseflesh was rising along her arms, and as she switched her gaze from one object on the ground to the other, avoiding looking at John with as much determination as she could muster. 

What was she supposed to say to him? The events of the day prior were still fresh in her mind, rolling and crashing like tidal waves. She was only a few inches tall, he was a hulking zombie, he’d eaten her⁠—

Her stomach growled. 

Gaze snapping to meet his, Anna carefully, exaggeratedly wrapped her arms around herself and tried to find her voice. 

“Do⁠—uh⁠—do you know where I can get something to eat?” She asked, unable to keep from flinching a little away when he shifted his hand. “I haven’t had anything since yesterday afternoon…” 

She swore his eyes widened a tad. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he truly looked like he had before everything had gone straight to hell. His head tilted to the left, a soft little grumble of sound escaping him. His eyes drifted, that lucid look not faltering as his lips twitched, incoherent mumblings filling the air with low, steady vibrations. 

Anna exhaled. 

Talking to himself.

Nothing’s changed at all. 

With her headache and dizziness fading away after so much time spent asleep, Anna was finally able to take in everything that had happened, processing it without having to work around the pains of a headache. 

I’m stuck like this… 

She had to be at three inches tall, at the most. Her cane was still with her, still sturdy and as brightly coloured as ever. It was there if she needed protection, though, at three fucking inches tall… how could she fight off anything? She hadn’t even managed to stop her best friend from swallowing her alive—

Anna grit her teeth. Exhaled through her nose. Chanced a glance at the still wandering gaze of the zombie holding her.

John hasn’t hurt me.

Hasn’t even tried.

Those thoughts made her relax a fraction, but try as she might to cling to them, her mind was more than happy to throw a new set of images across the space behind her eyes.

John’s eyes locked onto her form. His lips began to curl back in a snarl, showing off a dizzying array of teeth—

Anna gave a violent jolt and sucked in a breath through her teeth. She wasn’t going to think about that. 

John wouldn’t hurt me. 

He would never forgive himself if he did.

But… that was the John she remembered. This one was a zombie— not to mention, she was absolutely minuscule in comparison. He’d already eaten her once— like she was nothing— and maybe he’d enjoyed her taste enough that he’d snap her up again, and that’d be the end—

Anna shook her head as if to clear those intrusive memories away John lightly patted her on the head. His clumsy fingers began to pet her, the gentle motion catching her off guard.

“Agh!” Her cheeks flushed red. Acting on impulse, she moved to swat his fingers away, unable to keep from giving him a crooked smile despite her annoyance. 

His own face mirrored her lopsided grin, and as she listened, she could hear harsh, huffing wheezes rattling from his chest. They were almost like little barks of noise. 

What—

He snorted.

—laughing at me. 

Crossing her arms, moving to sit more in the middle of his palm, Anna looked up at him with faint traces of a smile still on her lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up now. Just wait until I’m back to normal. Then I’ll kick your ass for that.” 

His brow crinkled as she gave a soft sigh. “So… What’d you figure out while you were in la-la land, then? Something about the food situation I hope.” John tapped his nose and stood up, a little too fast for Anna. She scrambled to grip onto a finger, suddenly glad she wasn’t dizzy. The rushing sensation had turned her insides into water, and with only a second to regain her composure, her eyes darted back to John, though—

No.

She was being lifted to John’s mouth. Anna’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. Her memory came alive again, and as she stumbled back on his palm, falling flat on her backside, all she could see were the images flashing through her mind.

That hand— that monstrous, discoloured hand riddled with bluish veins— was inches from her, and the distance was closing.

“N-NO!” Anna all but screeched as she was mere inches away from his partially open mouth, hands flying up to cover her eyes. This was it. He’d gotten tired of her, and now he was going to—

Anna felt herself being moved away. 

Daring to lower her hands, she looked up to see John’s face, shrouded with confusion and concern. A low rumble shook through her. 

She sagged in relief, the breath she’d been holding pulling from her in a sharp rush.

“Shit… umm… maybe don’t do that? I’m more than fine here.” Anna gave a nervous laugh, patting his hand in emphasis. 

John cocked his head like a dog, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “Safe…” he murmured, moving her a little closer once again.

Anna scooted back near-instantly, her words coming out in a mess of tangled syllables. “Y-yeah I know it’s safe, but we should be looking for food for me, not food for you. You— Y-You get what I’m saying, right?”

The silence that followed made Anna’s ears ring. It was almost like he hadn’t heard her at all. His eyes were hopelessly vacant. The noises he was making had stopped altogether.

“...right?” She tried again.

John blinked. Unsteadily, as if just figuring out how to properly move, he gave a slow, jerky little nod. 

His brow furrowed once more, and as Anna watched, he began to growl under his breath, looking more irritated with himself than anything. His lips twitched, uncertain little syllables falling from them for a moment, before dissolving back into short, confused little grumbles.

After a few moments of low rumbling, Anna felt herself being lowered toward the floor. It was gentler than the motions of him standing up, less jerky, too, as he carefully lowered his hand to the concrete and rumbled again. 

“I—“ she tried, though, before she could say a word, his hand abruptly tilted to the side, all but dumping her off the side of it with a squeak. Her cane fell off first, and Anna followed soon after, landing on her side with a soft thud.

The concrete was cold under her body, though, Anna was quick to stand and watch as John backed up a few paces, and began a very confusing game of charades.

His motions were quick and jerky, and Anna could only stare in confusion as he stood back at his full height and swung a hand downward. 

What…

Following where he’d pointed with her brow furrowed, Anna glanced at the concrete beneath her. 

“...the floor?” She guessed.

John growled in response. When she looked up, he shook his head slowly and jerkily before pointing again, more in her direction. 

“The… s’it these rocks here, or— or walkin’? Where we came from?” He could’ve been pointing behind her, though, everything seemed deserted, and not to mention, it was huge, big enough that she could easily miss some detail that he was trying to show her— 

Big enough that you could go missing or get stepped on or snatched up by something that isn’t your friend, did you think of that?

Another growl from John shook her out of her thoughts and caused her to look up at him. As much as his features were deadened, Anna could see irritation flashing across his face as he pointed again, giving a low, unsteady growl and shake of his head

“An…” he tried, the suddenness of the broken word catching Anna off guard. He pointed again, nearly tripping as he pointed downward once again. His eyes met her own. 

It clicked. 

“Anna?” Feeling a little ridiculous saying her own name, she pointed at herself and drew her shoulders up. “Me?” 

For a moment, she thought he’d growl again. He blinked, his expression changing slowly, but surely. A crooked smile fell across his lips, and Anna felt an odd, light sort of flutter in her chest when he nodded. 

“Right,” she breathed, dropping her hands. Picking up the cane at her side, leaning on it a tad, Anna couldn’t stop a smile at how enthusiastic he looked. 

A happy little grumble shook from him, and as he grinned down at her, more a snarl that curled up at the edges, she huffed out a laugh. 

“Congratulations, I know my own name.” She grumbled, unable to keep up the annoyed facade due to the fact that her lip seemed deadset on curling upward. “Good thing you told me, otherwise I never would’a—“

“Safe,” John interrupted, and before Anna could say another word, he gave a deep, throaty growl that made her blood turn to ice. Images flashed through her mind before she could try to fight them off, a small, shaky breath escaping her. Her grip on the cane tightened.  

If anything, he was growling louder by the second, an awful, grating noise that rose above the panicked rushing of blood in her ears. It was barely human— hardly a noise she could ever picture him making— but it was escaping his throat regardless as he shuffled closer and closer to his potential meal— 

“Safe,” John’s voice came again, and as Anna looked up, she could see that his brow was furrowed and those brown eyes she knew so well seemed almost guilty. Another growl shook through him, though, it was more subdued this time. It sounded exaggerated. More emphasis on it to a point where it sounded more like an over the top gurgle. 

“Safe…” Anna echoed, watching as John nodded, then growled again. 

Safe and then a growl?

Anna just stared, the confusion on her face obvious despite the height difference. “What… what does that even mean? That⁠— John, that’s not a word⁠—”

“Safe!” John insisted, punctuating the word with an over the top growl. His eyes seemed to be pleading with her, and Anna backed up slightly as he bent over, grumbling under his breath. His eyes drifted across her little frame, his lips twitching slightly as though he was trying to speak. 

Anna’s mind was racing. 

Safe… grrr?

It didn’t make sense. Why would he growl at her? She could tell he was getting frustrated⁠— she was too. 

 What is he⁠—

“Oh!” Anna’s face lit up and she looked up at John. 

“Safer?” She tried. 

The noise from John was loud enough to make her ears ring. An excited, near purr of a rumble made Anna feel like she was vibrating, and that crooked grin decorating his face made a matching one settle on her lips. 

“Okay, okay, so I’m safer… where?” She asked, watching as John straightened himself out. 

It only took him a moment to give the next instruction. Swinging a hand to his middle, John pointed at his stomach. Anna got the idea immediately.

“I’m safer in your…” She trailed off, swallowing nervously before trying again, “in… in there?” She intoned, pointing at his middle as well as she could manage. “In… your stomach?” 

John nodded a final time, kneeling down completely with a suddenness that made Anna flinch. 

She backed up as his hands came to rest in front of her, not too far off the ground and palm up. His eyes were focused on her, that crooked, familiar grin still sitting on his face. His head tilted to the side, a small, curious little noise escaping him.

Anna gripped her cane tighter. “Listen,” she started, not breaking eye-contact, “I know with the zombies out there it’s… it’s not safe, even when I’m my normal size, but maybe hold off on doing…” She winced. 

Say it. 

She couldn’t. 

Pointing again at his middle, Anna tried to make sure he understood her point. “...that… until there are some zombies in sight, sound good?” 

Keeping her distance by a few inches, she watched closely as John looked down. His fingers twitched in place, the movement stiff and jerky, before he met her eyes and gave a slight nod. 

Anna exhaled. 

Oh thank god. 

Now if we can avoid any zombies for the rest of time itself, that’ll be great.

Hesitantly, breaking eye contact to focus on moving forward, Anna carefully stepped toward his hands, already anticipating the grab she knew he was readying himself to make. His fingers twitched. His hands shifted a little closer to her, though… they stopped. 

She frowned. She could practically feel him on her already, his hand more than close enough that it bumped up against her side. 

Stepping away momentarily, Anna mirrored John’s cocked head. “Uh, what’s wrong?”

His hand bumped against her again. A soft noise burbled up from his throat and he leaned a little closer, splaying his fingers momentarily. The grumbling noise was gentle, but firm in a way, more a prompt than anything. 

What does he⁠—

One of his fingers bumped up against her again.

Oh.

Anna blinked, looking up John as she finally got the message. She shivered a little bit, being grabbed and moved around was one thing, but walking onto the hands of a giant⁠— best friend or not⁠—was a bit nerve-wracking.

Still, she tried to push her fears away as she carefully walked towards and climbed onto John’s hand, trying not to focus on the action itself. She had to hop up a bit, and ended up stumbling, falling flat on her front onto the surface of his palm. She swore she heard slight huffs of a laugh from above her, and as she tried to get up, she grumbled:

“Maybe if you lowered your giant zombie hand a bit more, I wouldn’t have fallen.” She tried to sound irritated, though, she couldn’t keep herself from chuckling under her breath. Crookedly, she smiled up at John, though she was hit with an unexpected pang of some feeling she couldn’t quite explain, seeing him roll his eyes with that dorky smile she remembered so well.

After a moment, John slowly stood up, bringing his other hand up to keep Anna from falling. She grabbed onto his fingers near-instantly, and although he stood up slowly, the feeling of being moved upward made her feel like she was in an unsteady elevator. Everything lurched, herself included, as he straightened out. The hands bracing her were quick to move, however, and Anna found herself stumbling so her back was braced against his chest. 

Slumping into a sitting position, Anna stretched her legs out on the surface beneath her and allowed her head to loll back onto the soft fabric of his sweater. When he began to move, his hands swayed along in time with his footsteps, causing Anna to grip her cane tightly for reassurance.

Where’s he going?

She tried to sit up straighter for a moment, though, quickly gave up.

What did it matter where he was going? He probably knew the area better than she did, seeing as she didn’t know it at all, not to mention, the hordes of undead wouldn’t try to snack on him as far as she knew. 

Still...

“Hey, John,” She asked, tapping his palm to get his attention and craning her neck back to look him in the eye. A low rumble shook through her chest, loud enough to make her core feel like it was buzzing. “Please be careful,” she murmured, then, realizing how dark her tone had gotten, she tried to add a lighthearted: “It’d suck if you got bit again and turned into even more of a zombie.” 

He gave a soft huff in response. 

Leaning back once more, Anna carefully pressed her head against his chest, listening to the very, very slow thudding of his heart and his soft, slightly ragged breathing. It was almost comforting, in a way. Those were human noises, noises something dead couldn’t make, and she could feel her own heart slowing a tad to a point where it almost matched. Her thoughts then trailed to a spot lower than his heart. A spot she’d visited. 

I can’t believe that I was actually in there and that it’s safe, as safe as you can be inside a zombie, anyway.

She curled up a little on herself, wanting to block out the huge outside world, wanting to ignore those little fears and just pretend that she was just hanging out with a normal-sized human John. That would be nice. That would be so much better than being a few inches tall. That would mean the apocalypse hadn’t happened⁠— that he was his normal, goofy, human self.

But he’s not… he’s a zombie, a zombie who…

She couldn’t help but grimace a tad.

Who wants to eat me. 

Maybe his mind isn’t back all the way yet, but don’t worry.

The packets from the lab had held the formula for a cure. A makeshift cure, sure, but one that could work. 

Snuggling up a little more against the faint warmth emanating from John, Anna gave a soft sigh.

I’m getting you back.

...

“It’s okay, we’re definitely getting her back, right?” Steph’s feet were beginning to hurt and she was beginning to doubt her own words. 

The two had been walking through the halls for what felt like days, checking every room and fighting way too many zombies for their liking. Steph was sore all over, and she was almost certain Nick was feeling the same way, due to the fact that the little sarcastic quips he’d been tossing her way had grown few and far between. They walked in uneasy silence, and with every step they took, Steph could feel a weight settling on her shoulders. 

No Anna.  

“Well,” Nick’s voice cut through her thoughts, “considering we’re almost at the end of the section, she’s obviously gonna be here. Probably just locked herself in a room.” There was confidence in his words, along with truth. 

They hadn’t even seen a candy cane, flashlight beam, or even fresh blood, which meant she’d vanished from sight, locked herself away, or... 

Steph sank her teeth into her lip. She didn’t want to consider it, but it was possible that Anna’s broken, battered body was somewhere further up the hall. Every time they passed a piece of rubble, Steph found herself pleading that Anna’s lifeless form wasn’t slumped behind it, and as much as Nick had tried to convince her he wasn’t worried, she’d caught him doing the same thing. 

Walking in a tense sort of silence, both of them clutching their weapons as readily as they could, Steph caught sight of a partially open door. She’d just opened her mouth to tell Nick, though, when she turned her head⁠—

Already, Nick was opening the door the rest of the way and peering inside, motioning for her to follow. 

They were dead quiet as they cautiously dipped into the new room. It was dark inside, and Steph was quick to flick on her flashlight, nearly jumping out of her skin when the light was reflected back at her. 

What⁠—

“Calm down,” Nick huffed at her, “it’s only a bunch of vials.” 

Sure enough, he was right. Both of them straightened up a tad as they moved into the new space, the steady beam from Steph’s light illuminating more and more of their surroundings. They were surrounded by shelves upon shelves of glass vials. It looked like a crackpot laboratory, and as Steph swung her flashlight this way and that, she was made acutely aware of the fact that it was almost maze-like in design. 

Trying to get rid of her unease, Steph trailed a hand across the dusty vials, squinting in an attempt to read the scrawled labels. “Hey, your dad was a big ol’ military man, right? Did he happen to tell you what any of this might be?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug. “He wasn’t supposed to talk to me about much of anything that goes on the base normally,” he paced the shelves, moving just out of Steph’s line of sight and around to the next row, “so I don’t really think he would have mentioned it to m⁠—” He stopped short.

Shit. 

Steph raised the wrench she’d pilfered from the base defensively, getting ready to face whatever Nick had spotted, though⁠—

“Steph, I think I found something.”

Rounding the corner cautiously, trying not to let panic take over, Steph quietly stepped to Nick’s side. His arm came up, blocking her from stepping forward. 

Steph frowned. “What’re you doing?” 

“Look at the shelf.” He motioned toward the shelf before him, though, he didn’t drop his arm. 

“Hey, tallass, I can’t fucking see. What about it?” Standing on tiptoe, swatting at Nick’s arm, Steph tried to swing her light to see what he’d spotted. 

At first, she didn’t see much of anything. It just looked like another shelf, though, as she stepped a tad closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with Nick, she could see some details she’d missed. Bits of broken glass were littered across the floor, and they were scattered in a murky looking puddle. Liquid was dripping down the shelf, the different colours mingling in the steadily growing pool on the floor. 

“What… what the fuck?” Steph intoned, watching as Nick carefully stepped over the puddle, looking at the glass shards. 

“This happened recently,” he murmured, lowering his voice. “Everything’s still wet, and look⁠—” he gestured to some of the half-shattered vials still holding their shape on the floor. “⁠—they’re still leaking.”

Steph nodded. Hope flickered to life in her chest. “So it was either a tipsy zombie bumping into this one specific shelf, or…” She broke into a shocked laugh. She couldn’t help it.

“Or it was Anna,” Nick finished, “and since there’s no blood, I’d say she’s alive.” 

Although his tone was somewhat flat, Steph could see the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. “Okay! Let’s go get her then! I mean, where else could she have gone, right? She⁠— She’s probably close, we⁠— we can catch up!” 

Relief washed over her in a heavy wave. “Jesus, I’ve got some shit to say to her. She better have a great excuse as to why she just up and left.”

Nick nodded, gripping his bat tightly. “Yeah,” he agreed, “I’ve got a few choice words.”

The two began to make their way to the exit across the room, spirits considerably raised. 

“Absolutely,” Steph replied, “for starters, a good ‘what the fuck’ is in order.”

Nick gave a soft laugh, leading the way out with his bat at the ready. “For sure.” 

As the two entered the hallway once again, the pair of them both felt considerably lighter. Anna was alive. 

...

“How far is this place even… it’s like you’re taking every wrong turn…” Anna grumbled, moving from her previous position to peer out of John’s hands, only to see a dark, narrow looking hallway. The walls seemed to box John in as he carefully moved forward through the darkness. It didn’t look all that familiar to her. 

Shifting again, trying not to think of how little space her hands took up on his, Anna squinted in the dark. “What, are you going through the walls?” She questioned, earning a soft huff and a jerky little nod from above her. 

“Well, shit. Guess that explains where all the light went the past ten minutes… Are we at least close?” Her stomach was starting to hurt. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Being back in Little Haven had really taken away her appetite, but now, the stress of the days spent without eating was finally catching up with her. 

John gave another nod and Anna moved back to her previous position before the drafty air of the area got to her. It was cold enough to make her skin prickle, though, as she settled back down against John’s chest, she could feel warmth seeping back into her bones. 

“Guess you know your way around here, huh?” She murmured, more to herself than John as she leaned further against the faint warmth he provided. She swayed along in time to his footsteps, and when he didn’t answer, she sighed and continued. 

“Must’ve been here for a while, huh? Guess you remember a lot from just… wandering around all day… every day…”

Wandering around for a lot of days, if she had to guess. He wasn’t exactly a fast walker. His gait was shambling and more a limp than a true walk, the motion causing her to pitch a little bit with each of his steps. It must’ve taken him a couple of days to have gotten himself all the way from the old mall to the military base, and although it didn’t seem like he was really hurt… 

Anna drew herself inward a little bit and sighed heavily. “Limping pretty bad, too…” 

The rocking of his steps stopped short. A concerned rumble made her ribcage vibrate, and without warning, Anna felt herself being lifted. Shifting, moving to sit on her knees, Anna didn’t move as she was lifted up to meet John’s eyes. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that it still looked like him— still was him. Those big brown eyes were so human, so full of unvoiced concern that it made her heart twist. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, looking down at the hand below her, “I’m just a bit disappointed in myself, that’s all.”

A confused grumble pulled from his throat. 

 Dipping her head, Anna dug her fingers into her palms. “I couldn’t save you back then… a-and then…” her breaths were coming shakily. Her vision blurred, though, she knew she couldn’t blame the concussion.

 “You were just stuck wandering some useless town ‘til you died again.” Her voice was getting louder. It wobbled unsteadily. Raising a fist, she swatted irritably at her eyes. “And the first thing I do when we finally see each other again is make myself completely fucking useless and—“

A growl from John cut her off. Looking up, she watched him shake his head. 

She managed a bitter laugh. “What’re you talking about? I’m like, two inches tall, can’t kill zombies, can’t walk to find food, and I can’t even keep myself warm. How can anyone be useful like this?” 

They can’t. 

A voice in her head pointed out. 

Which is why you’re so useless now.

John’s troubled expression shifted. Anna bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, the confusion in his gaze more than enough to make her dig her teeth in deeper. 

I’m just making things harder for him.

He probably doesn’t understand.

John pointed to himself, the suddenness of the action catching Anna off guard. 

Sniffing, crossing her arms, she looked up at him. “What, you’re saying I helped you?” She asked, incredulous. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be a zombie, and if I wasn’t stupid, I wouldn’t have gotten small and need you to take care of me!” 

Sitting back down, Anna brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them for good measure. Tucking her head down, she tried her best to ignore the sting of tears burning her eyes. It was a familiar feeling. 

Useless.

Fucking useless. 

A moment later, John used his spare hand to gently pet Anna’s head, causing her to look up with red-rimmed eyes and scowl, though she didn’t try to swat him away. 

Another careful grumble pulled from John’s throat. He looked a tad frustrated as he pointed to himself again with a little more energy, then dipped his head and closed his eyes. 

Anna’s brow furrowed. 

“You’re asleep?” She asked. 

John’s free hand waggled in a so-so motion before he continued. Moving slowly, eyes open again and trained solely on her, he pointed at Anna then, made the same motion, but tapped himself and opened his eyes.

It took her a moment, but she understood. 

“You were asleep. I woke you up.” 

John gave a single nod and a little grunt of affirmation. His lips curled up at the corners again, and although Anna’s chest still ached, she managed a smile in return. She didn’t do so much as squeal in protest as he brought her to his chest in a sort of hug, purring slightly. 

She leaned into it. Her face met soft, faintly warm fabric. Taking a tiny hand, she carefully patted his chest and sighed, albeit, shakily. 

“Sorry,” she murmured, “just a bit cold and hungry, must be getting ahold of me.” 

A low noise of understanding made her smile feel a little more genuine. “Thanks, though.”

Anna embraced the comfort and gave a sigh, feeling John beginning to move again.

It was silent for the rest of the walk, Anna only hearing the slow heartbeat with equally slow breaths and the limping, shuffling noise of his feet on the ground. She kept her face pressed against his chest, his gentle grip on her shifting to practically pin her up against his front. 

Why⁠— 

He was crouching. His footsteps dragged more, and Anna could hear the sound of his sweater brushing against the walls, but soon enough, it stopped altogether. 

Anna’s stomach lurched as John stood upright and she found herself clutching one of his fingers to keep her balance. She wobbled on her feet despite the steadiness of John’s hand, peering over at the surrounding room. It was dirty, dark, and would break every health safety code violation she knew, but she recognized it near instantly. If the chipped countertop and the sink that most certainly didn’t run anymore didn’t give it away, the cupboards that hung open at odd angles did.

“A kitchen!” She exclaimed, excitement coursing through her. “Oh thank god, they’ve got to have something that hasn’t gone bad yet!” 

Still leaning over John’s fingers, Anna felt excitement swelling up through her. She barely noticed as he shifted her to one hand and began pawing through some of the open cabinets. Her gaze followed his hands as he shifted through their contents. 

It seemed to take hours. However, eventually, Anna caught sight of an unopened package and swatted John’s palm to get his attention. 

“There!”

John’s fingers closed around a packet clearly labeled MRE.

Anna couldn’t hold back a victorious: “yes!” as John placed his hand on the dirty counter for her to jump off, which she did with a crooked grin, cane in hand. She walked with an almost cocky air across the countertop, gaze shifting from the packages to the sink that looked deep enough for her to drown in. Some murky water puddled in it, easily large enough to be a swimming pool for her. It came right up to the edge, nearly spilling over the sides. 

Peering warily over the edge for a moment, Anna turned her attention to John, watching him rummage through the cupboard with a dexterity that surprised her. Sure, his movements were jerky and disjointed, and yes, his fingers did twitch a little too much as he grabbed a couple of packages and dropped them on the counter beside her, but those eyes… 

They were his without a doubt. 

“Thanks,” she told him with a crooked smile. Turning to face the packages at her side, Anna strode over to them, her excitement fading as reality once again reared its ugly head. The packages towered over her. Even the ones laying their sides were easily half her height. 

“Uhh…  how’s this going to work?” She mumbled to herself, eyes scanning over the packages. There had to be some way for her to open them… right?

Biting her lip and backing up a few paces, Anna finally decided to give it a shot. Her hands closed around the packaging, giving it a sharp tug with most of her strength to no avail. 

Shit.

She tugged harder, digging her heels into the counter’s surface. Her shoulders ached with the effort. Her grip was weak, and it only took a few seconds for her to lose her footing and fall flat on her back. 

Oh, fucking hell—  

Standing, glaring at the wrapping, Anna tried to get a grasp on one of the lower corners, yanking on it as hard as she could manage. The material crinkled, taunting her. It refused to break, and try as she might to tear even a piece of it off, it stayed stuck. 

“Damn it…” She hissed under her breath, giving up for the moment. She sat on the counter, defeated, and turned her gaze to John. 

He wasn’t even trying to hide his smile. The second they made eye contact, he started giving his soft, huffing little laughs, and they only got louder, sounding more like barks when Anna scrunched up her face and glared at him. 

John was just watching her with a confused but almost entertained look on his face.

“You’re really just gonna stand there and watch me make a fool of myself?” Anna asked, a playful sort of annoyance in her voice. 

John huffed in response and rolled his eyes, giving a low, dry little groan before snatching up one of the packages. Even though his fingers were clumsy, he managed to rip it open easily enough. 

 It looked about as appetizing as you would expect dry food to look after a year. It fell on the countertop with a dull thud. 

Anna’s face fell. 

It’s a brick. 

A brick that happens to be my height. 

She stepped forward. “Ugh, screw it,” she grumbled, reaching forward and grabbing the corner of the allegedly edible brick, “if I break my teeth, I break my teeth.” 

Her hands scraped across it to no avail. It felt like a brick. It had only been sitting there for a year, but as Anna worked to get a chunk of it to break off, she couldn’t help but think it had been there for centuries. It wouldn’t have surprised her. 

Fucking hell. 

In an act of sheer frustration, she slammed her candy cane down on the corner of the edible brick. 

A shower of crumbs scattered on the countertop under her feet, most of them no bigger than her fist. Panting a little, she gingerly snatched up one of the bigger pieces and sighed. 

“Heh, that’s kinda sad, to be honest. All that work just for a crumb? You’d think for such a high-end base, they’d leave us some food that wasn’t made of concrete?” Anna stalled, suddenly not wanting to eat the food in front of her. However, as she felt a sudden hunger pang, she decided to go for it, brought it to her mouth, and bit down.

Anna cringed as the dry, old food flooded her mouth and had to force herself to swallow, nearly gagging in the process. 

It’s either this or you starve. 

Brushing crumbs off her chin, ignoring the pasty texture clinging to the inside of her cheeks, Anna brought the crumb back up to her mouth and sighed. 

Fuck it. 

Managing to force herself to take another good bite of the dry, powdery food, Anna made her way to the sink and looked down at the water there. She was almost tempted to grab her flashlight and shine it into the puddle, just to see how deep it was, but thought better of it. 

There’s no way I’m finding bottled water anytime soon, so…

Steeling herself, Anna knelt and practically threw her head into the cold water, not caring how gross it might’ve been after all this time. Her hair fell into the grimy water, but she didn’t care, too occupied with taking a few good mouthfuls of it to wash the scratchy, dry feeling out of her throat. She pulled her head back up after a few moments to see John’s concerned gaze focused on her. 

She managed a laugh.“The food was dry…” She explained as she pushed her wet hair out of her eyes, snickering slightly at John. He looked so concerned, brow furrowed, head cocked slightly to the left. A little noise escaped his throat, somewhere between a grumble and a huff before he turned around and limped over to the entrance they’d come in through, sticking his head out into the open. 

Checking to see if we’re being followed. 

She realized. 

Anna gave a chuckle, leaning onto a nearby wall next to the sink. She brushed her hands against her sides, swiping off the crumbs left by the military rations before letting herself focus on what had happened. 

“I’m in a military base, in the middle of the apocalypse, hanging out with my zombie friend and eating old food while at a few inches tall.” She mumbled to herself, unable to keep her eyebrows from raising and a small, bemused smile from forming on her face. 

“What would Nick… and Steph… say…” 

Wait. 

“Oh…”

Nick and Steph.

“Oh no.”

They entered the base together.

“Oh god.”

They agreed to meet up in an hour.

“Oh fuck!” 

That was yesterday.

“Uh, John?” Anna shot up, making her way to the edge of the countertop. “We⁠— W-We may have a problem.” 

[welanabananaworld]

Us and the voice of dystopia

Jordan Peele’s latest film, Us, is as uncanny and disturbing as his first movie Get Out which proved itself to be a cinematic feat at the time of its release in 2017. Rightly considered as one of the fathers of the horror film renaissance (see also Ari Aster), Jordan Peele has been succeeding not only in addressing societal issues and in adopting a critical stance toward his home country but also in injecting an artistic vision in what is unfairly and generally regarded as second-class films. 

In Us, Jordan Peele’s strong sense of composition and framing reveals the main theme of the film : the duality of human nature through the evil self. Nothing revolutionary so far. Many films of the genre have explored the mythology surrounding the figure of the doppelgänger from multiple angles. For example, Alfred Hitchcock’s and Darren Aronofsky’s use of the double has a psychological bent; to dig through Scotty’s perverse psyche in the haunting Vertigo (1958) and to explore a mental illness in Black Swan (2011), whereas in The Great Dictator (1940), Charlie Chaplin chose to play both Hynkel and the Jewish barber for satirical purpose. In Us, nothing of the sort. Remember what we said about Jordan Peele’s films? About how the horror genre disguises social subtexts? But before aiming at the true meaning of this human mirror, one should focus more on the narrative use of the voice which proves to be of utter importance to understand what is at stake, because if you really listen to the voice, you understand the whole film.

Us tells the story of Adelaïde Wilson’s family who goes on holiday at the seaside in Santa Cruz. A series of strange coincidences reminds her of the trauma she experienced there when she was a little girl while vacationing with her parents. She made a disturbing encounter in the hall of mirrors of a funhouse. She came face to face with a little girl who looked just like her. After this event, she could no longer speak for a while because of, it seems, a post-traumatic stress disorder. At present day, overwhelmed with fear, she confides in her husband about her past. The same evening, they discover four people standing outside their house, their doppelgängers. Ruthlessly hunted, the Wilson family will have to look inward in order to counter their own selves. 

What strikes first when they all meet is that Red, Adelaïde’s double, is the only one  who is able to speak, or rather utter words. She is struggling with very word she says, as if her speech production was failing her somehow. When she starts speaking, her voice happens to be hoarse, cavernous, husky, strained, even  choked. Her disorder of phonation makes her voice otherworldly such as of a creature’s coming straight out of hell. It feels like she is not used to talk, actually that this is the first time she tries to pronounce and articulate words to create sentences. In this perspective, it is worth stressing Lupita Nyong’o’s astonishing work to produce Red’s chilling croaky and guttural voice. She used spasmodic dysphonia to make a creepy voice, that is a neurological disorder that causes involuntary breaks or interruptions in the voice due to an irregular flow of air. This language impairment, however, does not prevent Red from telling her story; the story of a dystopian world.

Red and Adelaïde are two sides of the same mirror. One learns that everything Adelaïde does is mirrored and has an impact on Red’s life, only the other way around. Everything that is happening in Red’s life is a pale copy of Adelaïde’s achievements and takes on a nightmarish dimension. Red’s husband, Abraham, is rough and dumb; her daughter, Umbrae, is born laughing and her son, Pluto, is a dangerous arsonist. The ideal family meets the poor and sad version of themselves who now claims justice through revenge, hence the imagery of the good and evil self. 

Throughout the film, the mise-en-scène keeps referring to the double as a warning or rather a prophecy as to the coming of those doppelgängers clad in red jumpsuits, which strangely resemble the clothing of prisoners. The clues left by the director are the following ones : the twin sisters of the superficial WASP family friends, the shadow of each member of the Wilson family projected on the sand while they are walking on the beach, the recurring number « 11:11 »  featured here and there (an extract from the Bible, Jeremiah 11:11), Jason wearing a mask (maybe a reference to the iconic masked murderer of Friday the 13th whose name is Jason?), Jason’s drawing showing a kid who looks just like him, a toy plastic spider behind which a true spider appears crawling across the low table of the living room, and of course the daze of mirrors. 

All those elements evoke duplicity and foresee a parallel world unknown so far. Red’s voice, alone, embraces all that imagery and embodies the punitive prophecy hidden behind the verse from the Old Testament book, the Book of Jeremiah, whose verse alludes to God’s wrath : « Therefore thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will bring evil upon them, which they shall not be able to escape; and though they shall cry unto me, I will not hearken unto them. » The invasion of the doppelgängers across the world is a divine plague orchestrated by Red from the underworld to take revenge. 

In fact, what the film tends to reveal all along is the existence of an underworld located inside « the thousands miles of tunnels beneath the continental United States », which are « abandoned subways systems », as stated at the very beginning of the film as an introduction. Those subways are inhabited by people who are the product of a failed governmental scientific experiment designed to replicate the bodies of those above to manipulate them. However, they discovered  that the « soul » could not be duplicated, hence the repudiation and neglect of that population now doomed to survive below the Earth’s surface, with raw rabbits as sole source of nourishment, and to « act out grim recreations of their respective partners’ above ground actions like sad little marionettes. »1 The scientific dimension of this governmental conspiracy is foretold in the opening credits by the camera progressively zooming out the caged rabbits. This shot conveys the idea of a sanitized laboratory. The existence of two opposite worlds is also mentioned by the shot which shows the funhouse twice, by night and day (darkness and daylight). 

The organised overthrow, which takes as an example the Hand Across America charity campaign of 1986 (giant human chain), can be interpreted in many ways : an uprising against social inequalities, such as racial, gender and salary based discrimination, which undermine the U.S (or Us); a country where climbing in the social ladder is more and more unattainable for under-represented ethnic minorities. It can also be seen as a denunciation of what America has become, unfair, poor and divided; a denunciation of the famous ideology of American exceptionalism through the ostentatious display of American symbols distorted by the horror genre. The « tethered » are done being downtrodden and ostracized. They want to embrace the American myth that had been promised to them by taking their rights back and by building a new world, hence Red’s assertive reply to Gabe’s question « Who are you, people? » : « We are Americans. » They claim themselves as being true Americans (to be connected to the Native American reference of the original funhouse’s sign), free from all materialistic concerns. 

Only, this does not constitute the twist ending of the film. Like all self-respecting horror films, Us is no exception in the matter and does offer a shocking one. And this is the voice which hints at it all along and that turns upside down the government’s theory about their human experiments. 

Red’s whistling while walking up the alley of the Wilson’s family with a pair of scissors in her hand in the dark is where the truth really lies. If one has well paid attention to the details, one would have noticed that Adelaïde whistled the same way when she was trapped in the hall of mirrors when she was a young girl, as if to ward off the coming threat. Do you see my point? Why is Adelaïde so reluctant and does have trouble engaging in a conversation with Kitty on the beach? Why would Red be the only tethered to be provided with the ability to speak? Why this eager for revenge? Because Red actually is the true Adelaïde. Back to the funhouse in 1986, young Adelaïde’s clone, Red, was lured to go to the surface as Adelaïde  progressively approached to her tragic destiny. 

What the film did not show is that Red strangled Adelaïde until she fainted, dragged her down the tunnel, attached her to her bed in the dormitory and switched place with her among Adelaïde’s family, hence her early language deficiency. While Red grew up like a normal little girl and learned how to speak, Adelaïde lost progressively her language abilities growing up among zombie-like human beings, which proves that the government’s theory is wrong. The soul cannot be duplicated but this does not mean that the tethered are « soulless creatures ». If given the chance, as Red has had, the tethered would have turned out perfectly okay. They would have followed the regular human evolution process called « hominisation » or « anthropogenesis », the process of becoming human. Indeed, the doppelgängers all look like primitive animals. Pluto, by his gesture, reminds of a monkey-like primate’s attitude and Abraham’s moans, groans and grunts are those of Cro-Magnon man. Their names evoke ancient times, something rough yet to evolve, and the mythology of the doppelgänger, Pluto being the god of the underworld, Umbrae the latin word for shadow. Abraham is the « Father of the nations » which can be connected to the human chain the tethered seek to initiate to rise up and find they own humanity. Red’s name could refer to the color of the tethered’ garments, and thus evoke the state of imprisonment which they have been reduced to until now. 

In this perspective, Red’s voice is not only the voice of dystopia but goes far beyond this sole and somewhat manichean opposition which is the driving force behind the narrative of the film. Red’s voice, by also being the voice of anthropological evolution, mainly serves to establish a connection between the latter subject and the current state of American society. With no equality of opportunity, people cannot equally seek higher social and intellectual status and end up being the slaves of the system. America has now no other choice but to drop her delusions and take her mask off. 

1 Bojalad, A., (2019, March 22). Us, Hands Across America, and the failed American experiment. Retrieved from https://www.denofgeek.com/movies/us-jordan-peele-hands-across-america/