#My legacy is forever tainted

[viaphni]

its all my fault 💀

🌸

[kingslayerstew]

gotta feel bad for whoever the next kings justice will be bcs he will have to live with the pressure of succeeding STAR EXECUTIONER ilyn payne. a lifetime of "um just so you know payne wouldve gotten it over with in 1 swing :/" and "i mean youre fine but you just lack ser ilyn's atmosphere :(" and "what was that?? sorry im not used to a speaking kings justice u_u" poor guy

[risingscorchingsuns]

hi guys it’s 5am and im having a mental breakdown so here’s some rengoku family analysis

kyojuro and shinjuro eternally two sides of the same coin. he may not have realized it, but both his parents died when ruka did. he grew up without a father, except his father is right there in the other room. he had to be the father for senjuro. he HAD to be, because Shinjuro wasn’t gonna do it. in his own words, “Senjuro has it even worse than I.” Kyojuro had to protect those weaker than him, had to be strong. Being strong was the only thing that gave him control. The only thing that made him feel worthwhile.

Kyojuro died without a dad. He died not knowing that Shinjuro would ever regret his actions. He died without the father he’s always been deprived of. But he still loved Shinjuro because it’s the only father he has. even though shinjuro failed him fundamentally. neglected him, abused him, scorned him. abandoned him utterly and completely. Kyojuro never stopped loving him because he’s his father’s son.

Kyojuro saw himself in Shinjuro. In ways that both inspired and terrified him. The death of Ruka, Shinjuro’s reaction, Kyojuro being so young. Shinjuro taught him how to grieve, whether he meant to or not. Both of them bury their pain, shove it all away into a place that will never be seen. The difference is Kyojuro grew up watching Shinjuro’s pain eat him alive, and started to bury his own in positivity. In strength. Finding his purpose in being strong, in supporting others. But at the end of the day, he is his father’s son. He’s still not allowing himself to feel grief. He’s still not allowing himself to rest. Because what is he if he isn’t strong? Who is Kyojuro, if he isn’t the Flame Hashira Rengoku?

Kyojuro is simultaneously determined to both reinspire his father, and to never turn out like him. He loved the man that Shinjuro was, the man that Kyojuro needed, the man that he died without. He was determined not to turn out the same way, to let his flames burn forever, until they burned him alive if they had to. To never give up the way his father did, to never let anyone down the way his father did. To never fail anyone, the way his father failed him. So he buries his pain in responsibility. No time to fail if you just never stop burning. He can’t let his grief taint him like it did his father. even in his final words he believed that. the flow of time waits for no one. it wont stand patiently by as you grieve. and while those words in of themselves are incredibly powerful, and an important lesson, i believe kyojuro internalized them to an unhealthy degree.

but while the words are something kyojuro lives by, in an ironic twist of fate he’s still a lot like Shinjuro himself. in his efforts to not turn out like him he’s done the same thing. he pushed aside his pain, held himself together so tightly. because he can never let anybody see that he’s hurting. he can never let anybody see that he’s anything less than Flame Hashira Rengoku, infallible pillar of strength and passion. kyojuro is always smiling when he looks at others. when he looks at senjuro. he’s keeping himself together so tightly. because he has to. because nobody else is going to do it. because if he doesn’t hold himself together he has nothing, he’s a mirror image of his father. they are two sides of the same coin. Kyojuro desperately yearning for the man Shinjuro used to be, while subconsciously determined not to turn into the man he is. and he stubbornly clings to that forever in hopes that he’ll be the one to inspire him, that he can bring shinjuro back. if he’s just strong enough. if hes just good enough. if he just works a little harder he can have his father back.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear the Flame Hashira haori. Heavy is the Rengoku family legacy.

i have no idea if this is coherent at ALL, it’s definitely not my best analysis, i havent proofread and its five in the morning lol. maybe when im more rested ill come back to this and do a proper essay with sources and context, but for now here’s some unpolished stream of consciousness ramblings with zero editing. kyojuro rengoku daddy issues i know what you are

[maxislvt]

Could I request a dark fic where Vampire!Wanda and Mortal!Reader fall in love, and after getting married, Wanda offers to turn Reader into a vampire but Reader says no. However, years go by and Reader is on their deathbed, about to succumb to old age, when Wanda decides she must turn Reader whether they like it or not.

Thank you!

p.s. i am a simp for Vampire Mommy Wanda

warnings: angst, mention of terminal illness, arguin

I didn't realize the old age part so this is just kinda sadder than need be

Death was the price that came with loving a mortal.

As a vampire, Wanda was cursed to live forever. An eternity filled with nothing but quick flings that would amount to nothing in the end. It was a rather sad love life, but Wanda had convinced herself she was okay with it. With a legacy to keep secret and company to run — her schedule was pretty tight. A relationship would just add more stress. That's what she told herself. Then you came along and ruined a near two hundred year streak of being single.

You were everything Wanda wanted in a lover. Someone gentle and kind to cut down the bitterness she'd collected over the years. It didn't take long for her to realize how much she needed you. Wanda clung to you for dear life. The mere thought of you leaving her sent her into a spiral. You were always quick to put out her fears. You never even considered leaving Wanda. She gave you her everything — you had no reason to.

Wanda wasn't entirely sure what she'd done to make you change your mind.

"You said—" Wanda took a deep breath. She'd never been so upset with you before. "You said you'd never leave me! We were supposed to be together forever." You always had a way of making Wanda feel things that had laid dormant for years. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this upset. Her cheeks burned with hot tears. After everything she had done for you, you were still so comfortable just leaving her? It wasn't fair. "I won't be able to love anyone else."

You flinch at the harsh reality in Wanda's words. "I'm not leaving you. It's just my time to go." You had come to terms with the fact you'd die months ago. The doctors handed you a diagnosis and said you only had so long. Fighting it was futile. You didn't expect Wanda to be okay with it. Finding love after decades of loneliness only to have it ripped away was a pain beyond your imagination. But you only had about two weeks left and you didn't want that dread hanging over your head the entire time. "Just love me as much as you can, while you still can." You spoke as softly as you could. "Come here, I want to cuddle."

Wanda took a deep breath before laying down next to you. Fear still ran hot through her vines. It was making her irrational. "I could do it forever if you'd just let me-"

"I don't want to be turned into a vampire. You have to respect that. "

"I don't want to be alone forever, can't you respect that?"

You sighed and rubbed your temples. "Wanda, you're being selfish. Think about all the people I care about and would have to watch die. I can't do that." Your arms wrapped around Wanda's body and pulled her close. "I don't really want to talk about this anymore. Let's just call it a night. Please?"

Wanda pulled away and looked down at you. She could see life fading from your body. You were paler and the bags under your eyes were getting darker. Even the light in your eyes was starting to fade. It was like looking at a doomsday clock meant specifically just for you. Wanda would do anything to keep that clock from sticking 12. She wasn't going to let you die. Your approval was going to have to take the backseat for her to do that. "Okay, I won't bring it up anymore." She placed a gentle kiss on your lips before laying back down and holding you close.

She wasn't foolish enough to do it while you were awake. Once Wanda was sure you'd fallen asleep, her fangs buried themselves into your lower back. Sickness had tainted the taste of your blood forever ago. The sugary sweetness had now faded into something bitter and medicinal. She sucked until she had taken just enough to turn you. Her tongue licked at the wound so it'd be healed by the morning.

You'd hate her for it. Maybe you'd argue again or run off screaming with the hopes of finding a cure. You would come back eventually. Eventually, Wanda would be the only one you'd have left to run to. It appeared you had figured that out faster than Wanda expected.

Wanda expected nothing less from someone as smart as you.

"Wanda," You whispered from the bathroom. Despite calling for her, you didn't even spare your partner a glance. Your eyes focused on the cut quickly healing on your finger. You wipe away the blood slowly. Focusing on the task to avoid blowing up at the woman standing in the door frame. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you turned to face her. "Why'd you do it?" The look in your eyes was cold and almost uncaring.

That wasn't the first time you looked at her like that. It certainly wouldn't be the last now that you two had an eternity together.

"I did what I thought was best." Wanda stretched out her arms. "I know it's going to be scary at first, but I'm going to be here with you every step of the-"

You quickly pushed past Wanda. You grabbed a bag and began stuffing your clothes in it. "I can't be around you right now." Every word Wanda said fell on deaf ears as you continued packing. There was nothing she could say that would make you feel better. Just as you tried to zip up the bag, Wanda tried to snatch away. "Wanda, I don't want to hear it!" You shouted before snatching the bag away from her. It felt good to be strong enough to stand up for yourself. You turned and walked away.

"Stop walking away from me and listen!"

Your body stopped dead in its tracks. How could you have forgotten? Turned vampires were nothing to someone from a bloodline as powerful as Wanda's. That was just another way you'd be inferior to her.

Wanda turned your body so you were forced to look at her. "I did what I had to do to keep us happy. I will not sit here and let you make me a villain for putting you first!" She could see the anger burning bright behind your eyes "I gave you my whole heart and I'm not going to let you run off and break it!" It didn't feel right yelling at you. It wasn't your fault you were born a mortal or her a vampire. But something had to be done in order for you two to stay together. Wanda needed reassurance but all you were showing her was animosity. "Say something damn it! I need you!"

For a moment you just stared at Wanda. Fighting the urge to obey her wasn't easy, but you weren't going to let her win.

"I hate you more than anything right now."

[bloodlust-1]

The Consort ₊⁺જ⁀➴

NSWF | Explicit 18+ | Angst | Blood | Ascended Astarion | Spawn Tav | Dark | Smut | Trauma | Stockholm Syndrome | Violence

Ascended Astarion x fem Tav

Chapter: 6 | Please Don’t Go

Summary: In a tumultuous tale of love, power, and betrayal, Tav finds herself entangled in a complex relationship with Astarion, a heartless vampire lord who will stop at nothing to maintain control over his newfound spawn. As Tav witnesses Astarion’s transformation and descent into darkness, their love is put to the ultimate test amidst love triangles, drama, and the pursuit of world domination. Redemption seems like an elusive goal while Tav grapples with the realization of who her lover has truly become.

UPDATED EVERY MONDAY.

Notes: Hi, hi 🫶🏼 back again for another chapter - let’s get this shit started

posting couple hours early bc of work ^^

AO3 LINK | MASTER LIST

Lovely photo by @astarionposting

Tav and Astarion arrived back home a day later from the lively party in Waterdeep, and Astarion was unusually quiet as they made their way inside their home.

Without uttering a word, Astarion disappeared into his study, completely in his own silence. It was like he was in deep thought and Tav was no interruption.

She sighed.

He seems like something's on his mind...Maybe being home again made the reality of his ascension real each time he came back to this damned palace without a problem.

Tav put down her coat and followed Astarion into his study, where she found him sitting in a luxurious chair, fists against his mouth, staring aimlessly into the fireplace.

He was in one of his moods.

In a gentle tone, “Is everything alright?” Tav took a few steps and stood beside him. Leaning over slightly, her eyes tried to get a peek at his face.

Astarion remained motionless, his eyes still fixed on the flickering flames. Without turning to look at Tav, he spoke lowly, “How would you feel if I shared my gift? Eternal life. In exchange, spawn will serve us, carrying out tasks that others would shy away from.”

Tav’s laughed nervously, her head tilting slightly in disbelief. “Is that what that woman wanted from you..?” she asked, trying to make sense of his words.

A moment of silence passed before Astarion shook his head slowly. He straightened up from his position and moved closer to the fireplace, feeling the warmth caress his pale skin. “No,” he replied quietly.

“It appears that I was not the only person trying to kill Cazador,” Astarion continued, his eyes narrowing as he recalled recent events. “Although her attempt was unsuccessful, she did plant a seed of thought in my mind.”

Turning to face Tav directly, Astarion’s gaze bore into hers. “We could amass an army of our own kind, create more like us, and crush any mortal foolish enough to oppose our rule. The legacy of House Ancunin shall be one of power and dominance.”

Tav bit her lip and averted her gaze from him. She knew he was set on this but that woman. Something didn't feel right about her, "More like us...? I don’t want there to be anyone else. I want it to be just me and you, not create another house of spawns!”

Tav could feel Astarion's gaze on her. Admittedly, her possessiveness over him touched him for a brief moment.

Tav instantly tried to justify herself, "Look at Cazador's downfall. I don't want you to end up like him, I only worry for you Astarion..."

He snapped quickly, "I am NOT Cazador. I am better than him."

Tav scuffed, “Bend, break, and manipulate all the petty royals you want, but I will not share my home with any spawn.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, "You’re quite set on this aren’t you?" He walked up to Tav, challenging her with eyes like daggers, "You do know, your future is mine to control."

"You are mine. Aeterna Amantes - Lovers forever, until the world falls down." his fingers traced her jawline while his eyes burned into hers.

Astarion’s words were tainted with ownership and control. It was not a promise of equal love, but a statement of possession, "If I wanted to burn this world to the ground, make everyone kneel at my feet, you will be there by my side.”

The tingle of his soft touch grazed her jaw, opposite to his tainted words.

She stared at him with hurt in her eyes...How unbelievable, this was not the person Tav thought he was. "Is this all you care about - Power? What about us?" Tav took a couple steps away from him, shaking her head. To think he would want anything more out of Tav now.

I want us to be happy.

I want it all. I want to travel the world. I want a family, not a dictatorship.

Did I make a mistake?

“You already possess everything, yet you fail to recognize it!” Tav yelled, watching as Astarion’s chest rose and fell with frustration.

Astarion sighed in annoyance. How could she be so foolish and not understand the endless possibilities?

"It's not enough! I will not be that weak spawn I once was," Astarion got closer to Tav with each syllable he harshly spat.

Tav took a step back, her eyes wide with realization.

"I'll...never be enough for you. You will never be...the Astarion I met when he had nothing, only love to give me." Her voice cracked with hurt and anger.

Tav gestured towards him with her eyes glossed in hurt, "And look at you now."

Astarion puffed his chest out, his eyes gleaming with pride. “I am a vampire ascendant. I am powerful.”

Tav shook her head, “No, Astarion. I just want you to respect my opinions too as your consort! You are not Cazador. And I will not become like you.”

His eyes flickered for a moment, softening to her statement. The way her words hit into him landed a little too close to home. For a moment, sympathy was in his stare.

It hurt him deeply. For her to stare at him the way he used to stare at Cazador.

Tav was enough.

Tav’s hands dropped to her sides in defeat. The tears in her eyes threatened to fall but she tried to stay strong. Tav didn't want to be weak in front of him. She started to storm off from Astarion, but he quickly questioned her with desperation.

Astarion’s voice cracked with hurt suddenly, "Where are you going?" His chest felt like it was collapsing in with furrowed brows.

“Out.” She pushed past Astarion, her face flushed a deep red with boiling anger.

Astarion’s breath hitched, his anger starting to rise with grief. How could she...How dare she?

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly as he yelled out to Tav, grasping her arm and pulling her back towards him. “WHERE THE HELLS ARE YOU GOING?”

Tav stumbled over her feet, attempting to break free from Astarion’s grasp. This frightened her...she'd never seen him like this before.

Tav cried out, ripping her arm away and breaking free from his hold. “Stop it!”

She couldn’t leave. She belonged to him. The thought of Tav walking away tore at him, constricting his throat and leaving him gasping for air. His lungs ripped out Tav’s name repeatedly.

“You can’t leave me!” Astarion's eyes went wet with rage.

The room went dizzy for Astarion. The reality of his actions started to weigh heavy at that moment. His head was running a thousand miles away to a dark place.

Don't go.

Don't leave me alone with myself.

He followed sternly after Tav, quickly reaching out for her wrist.

I need you.

Please.

Suddenly, something within Tav seemed to snap, and her eyes glowed into a deep yellow. Her druid form took over her body, taking on an animalistic appearance with claws extending from her fingertips.

In one swift motion, Tav’s hand swiped back through the air, perfectly connecting with Astarion’s face. He released her wrist immediately.

He clutched his own face with a pained groan. Astarion looked down at his bloodied palm in shock and disbelief. She scratched me.

Tav’s eyes instantly reverted back to their pale white, and she gasped at the sight of what she had just done. Her stomach knotted when she trailed the droplets of blood drip off his jaw.

She blinked repeatedly, trying to come to the reality of what just happened.

Tav reached out her hand to Astarion, "I -...Oh gods, Astarion I'm s-so..." Astarion cut Tav off and recoiled in anger and disbelief.

He stared at her coldly and menacing, causing Tav to shrink back in fear.

“Go,” Astarion growled through gritted teeth, averting his gaze from her. “Get out of my sight.”

Without a word more Tav sniffled and walked out of the room with tears running down her face.

Fuck.

Tav didn't mean to hurt him. She wasn't even sure what had just taken over her, she was never violent like that on a whim. This wasn't like herself at all.

She ran out of the palace, aimlessly walking around the city in the dead of night. The tears stained her skin wet and in the back of her mind, she thought of Ross.

She remembered what he had told her: "If you’re ever looking for someone to talk to back home, I’m always at the Blushing Mermaid."

Tav sniffled and wiped her tears with her sleeve. Maybe she could confide in someone...

~

Tav made her way to the Blushing Mermaid, and before she could even walk inside, she could smell the strong scent of alcohol. She recoiled in her stomach, that terrible smell of drunk people. Eck.

She opened the doors, and Gods the smell was even worse. But it was very lively, singing, dancing, yelling, and loud music being played by a nearby band.

Tav sank onto a barstool, her gaze wandering aimlessly across the crowded room. The bartender, an older man, caught sight of her weary expression and slid a drink her way. "You look like you need this more than I do," he said.

Grateful, Tav clasped the glass, offering a nod of appreciation before taking a sip.

Just as the fiery liquid burned its way down her throat, a pair of hands landed gently on her shoulders. Tav turned, finding Ross settling into the seat beside her. A warm smile spread across his face. "Hey, Tav! I knew that was you," he greeted with genuine delight.

But as his eyes fell on her red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, his smile faded. "What happened?" He tilted his face with concern.

Embarrassment washed over Tav, and she lowered her head in shame, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping her lips. "Just got into a fight with Astarion...I feel terrible," she admitted with regret. Ross's frown deepened as he listened intently, his eyes fixed on her every word.

He half-smiled, "Do you want to talk about it? We can get out of here. It's a little too loud right now." Standing up, he extended his hand towards Tav.

She hesitated for a moment before accepting his offer, feeling the touch of his hand under hers. But his kindness was comforting.

"I know a good spot." Ross softly let go of her hand and they walked silently to the docks of the shore. Their shoes clicked and echoed under the wood of the docks and Ross took a deep breath of the salty air, "Now tell me - why the tears?"

Tav bit down on her lips and crossed her arms in a self-hug, "I accidentally scratched him in the face...and made him bleed."

"What? Now why would you do that?"

"He grabbed my wrist and...ah...fuck - I don't know what came over me."

"Wait, wait -" His eyes narrowed in confusion and anger, "Why was he grabbing you in the first place?" he clicked his tongue in dispute.

Tav shook her head over and over, "I was trying to leave and he didn't want me to go."

Ross became passionate at the moment and raised his voice, "So?! No one should be putting their hands on you like that. That's really possessive, don't you think?"

Tav felt defeated and she went to wipe a single tear that fell from her eyes. He was right and hearing the truth made it sting even more.

Tav ran her fingers threw her locs and lifted her hair in a ponytail, gripping her scalp as a stress reliever. Just as Tav heaved out a stressful sigh Ross went uncharacteristically silent.

When she turned her head, Ross had been staring at her with wide eyes, his mouth slightly a gap.

"Oh no..." He whispered into the air as he approached Tav closer.

Her heart skipped a beat, and the warmth of his hand fell on her chin, pulling her face to the side. His eyes glared at the bite marks that scared Tav's skin.

Ross wetted his lips and softly spoke, "Did he do this to you...?"

Tav averted her eyes and stepped away, breaking their contact. She turned her back and hid her scars with her thick hair. Her fingers nervously brushed down the strands.

"Tav - are you a vampire?" Ross sounded dumbfounded, maybe even disappointed.

"I don't need your disappointment too."

Ross scoffed and shook his head, pressing his thumbs firmly on the bridge of his nose, "I'm just surprised. I didn't think your relationship with him went that far." Tav was right. He was disappointed, this was vital information his sister would definitely want to hear...but he didn't feel right about it.

He pitied Tav.

"He's a monster." Ross sneered to himself.

Tav quickly turned her head, and her demeanor quickly became defensive, "He’s not a monster he’s just hurt!" Tav snapped at Ross and just as she had quickly defended Astarion, her attitude simmered back down, not meaning to yell at her friend like that.

Her head pounded with overwhelming feelings. Things between her and Astarion changed when he ascended and it was boiling to a breaking point for Tav.

She whispered out, her voice cracking and barely audible, "All that pain...It changed him into something he's not."

When she faced Ross straight on, the tears on her cheeks sparkled against the moonlight, "Is it my fault?"

Ross shook his head and placed his hand on her shoulder, stroking it to calm her, "Don’t blame yourself…"

Tav held her breath, her body became timid and shaky, "He's just so full of hurt and I don't know how to get through to him."

Ross scrunched his lips to the side in a furrow and eyed her wet face, "If he is smart, he'd apologize for treating you like an object."

She buried her face between her hands, sobbing as she sank to the floor and held her knees.

Ross knelt down on the floor and gently placed a hand on her back, rubbing her in comfort.

As Tav's cries subsided into sniffles, Ross let out a sigh, "Did you eat anything yet? We can go grab a bite. Get your mind off of things."

Tav looked up at him, her eyes red and tearful, her expression questioning his proposal, "Food isn't going to fill me right now...If you understand."

Ross covered her neck with his hands, "Well this neck is off limits." He teased her and stuck out his tongue.

Tav chuckled a fangy smile and wiped away old tears, "Don't worry," she replied, her voice tinged with playful sarcasm. "I'll save your neck for another day."

"So what do you do for blood then?" He became questionable, trying to figure it out in his head.

"Animals, whatever I can get."

"How about we go hunting outside the walls?" Ross suggested. But Tav felt hesitant, her mind still clouded with sadness.

"The night is young. Plus, I'm kinda curious to see you hunt for something.” He rested his chin into his palm, “Want to see what all that hype was about."

At that moment, she trusted Ross to guide her through this time of sorrow. She saw him as a friend, and an outlet to grow a bond outside of her relationship. A healthy social life.

But then again, Tav could just imagine the look on Astarion's face if he knew about this. Even if it was harmless, she would definitely be punished.

What if he punishes me either way?

Ross snapped Tav out of her thoughts, "If you wish to keep degrading yourself, I'll leave you to it." he stated firmly, his hands slipping into his pockets as he turned to walk away from her.

In a moment of defiance, Tav stood tall and took in a deep breath, "Lead the way."

Ross paused in his steps, surprised by Tav’s response. He turned back to face her, studying her for a moment before nodding slightly. Without a word, he gestured for her to follow as he began walking again.

Next part here

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

Drama and TRAUMA. Baby Astarion, he’s just deeply rooted in hurt. But let’s build up some relationships between characters, shall we? 😌

[arc-misadventures]

New Family Dynamics

Willow: Hmm, hmm, hmm~!

Winter: Hello, Mother.

Willow: Huw?! Oh, hello, Winter. You startled me.

Winter: My apologies…

Willow: …?

Willow: Is something wrong, dear?

Winter: Mother… How are you dealing with… all of this…?

Willow: This?

Winter: This new family dynamic?

Willow: Ahh… Well… for the most part I am happy. For the first time in years I can feel genuinely happy.

Winter: You feel happy?

Willow: Yes, inmeasurably so. No more hiding my feelings behind a bottle, being surrounded by those that care little for me, and having a husband that married me for my family’s company, a man who married me for money. You ran from the family, Winter, you managed to get out, and free yourself from our horrible family. I, and the rest of your siblings are still trapped there, in that house, trapped with that monster. Here I am free, here I am happy.

Winter: Do they really make you feel that happy, Mother?

Willow: Well, when it comes to the, Arc’s compared to, Jacques: Would your rather be embraced with a hug, or a slap?

Winter: What?! Has father slap you?!

Willow: Yes… Several times at that… I suppose that is another reason why I went to the bottle…

Winter: I-I didn’t know…

Willow: Well… I didn’t want you to know. You were only a child at the time. Perhaps if I let someone know…

Winter: I’m sorry that happened, I didn’t know this was happening…

Willow: You were already gone by the time he first hit me. You weren’t there on, Weiss’s tenth birthday where he told me he married me for our families legacy, he never loved me, he just wanted money, and power.

Winter: I… I didn’t know…

Willow: Of course not; I never told you any of this.

Winter: I just thought that you… that you didn’t love us. That you didn’t care about us anymore.

Willow: No! Nononono… It was never like that, Winter. I just… couldn’t do anything, and I had no idea how to handle it. I married a man that I thought who loved me, and he gave me two beautiful children. But, even that he seemingly stole from me…

Winter: Stole them? Jacques didn’t steal, Weiss, and Whitely from you.

Willow: Well, not, Weiss, I have more, or less pushed her away from me. Whitely however, I fear he is becoming a mini version of his father. So long as, Jacques is near him I fear I will lose him forever.

Winter: Do you… Do you have any ideas on how to get him back?

Willow: I have been thinking about that since I came here. I want the family life, Juniper, and Acheius have with their family: Being so open, and capable of expressing their love for one another. And, to do that, I have to remove, Jacques Gelé from the, SDC. Permanently.

Winter: Y-You’re not referring to… Killing him?

Willow: That would be the quick, and the efficient route to take. But, I wouldn’t do that… I want to crush him, to kick him out of the family, to leave him destitute, and penniless, to slowly die as the bitter worthless bastard that he is out in the cold of wastelands of, Mantle.

Winter: Oh… That is the better route to take.

Willow: It is; I have a few ideas on how to get the ball rolling, but his taint runs deep. It will not be an easy feat to accomplish. I have mentioned this to, Juniper before, and she been offering me a rather odd bit of advice. Care to hear it?

Winter: What is it?

Willow: Sic, Jaune after him.

Winter: Jaune? Why did they recommended that you should sic my little brother after him?

Willow: Little brother? D-Do you see, Jaune as your little brother?

Winter: D-Did I really just say that?

Willow: You did.

Winter: I just said it without even thinking… I guess I do see him as my little brother. Huw… Isn’t that something.

Willow: What about the girls; Do you see them as your sisters?

Winter: …

Winter: Yes… Yes I do.

Willow: That’s wonderful to hear, Winter. I’m glad you can see those kids, as your siblings. Now, as for, Jaune being sic on, Jacques. They only said this: ‘That smile hides a devious mind.’ I… I don’t understand what they mean by that.

Winter: Hmm… I’ve been sticking around the twins a lot since we got here. And, Jeanne challenged me to a game of chess, she is quite good at chess, we managed to settle for a nice win/loss ratio. 5/4, my favour. But, Jaune… Jaune beat me flawlessly for all nine rounds we played.

Willow: Little upset that your little brother showed you up?

Winter: No…

Willow: Oh really now?

Winter: Okay I am! I have never been so thoroughly beaten before in all my life! It’s so frustrating! And, he was playing blindfold chess on top of it?!

Willow: Blindfold chess? He can play chess like that?!

Winter: They both can! But, Jaune is so much more better at it! He beat me in seventeen moves, seventeen moves!

Willow: Well, It seems like your having fun bonding with your new siblings~!

Winter: The two are really sweet to be around. But, they are quite devious, especially, Jaune. Together they are a menace, on their own. Well, if you messed with, Jeanne, she would shove your head through a wall. If you messed with, Jaune though; Well he would spike your drink with laxatives, lock the door to the bathroom, and by the time you finally manage to get unlock the door, he smashed the toilet to bits.

Willow: R-Really?

Winter: Yes, Jaune is quite… Vindictive…

Willow: Well, if that’s how he fights, he might be able to deal with, Jacques quite swiftly… and, brutally…

Winter: Quite so. I can see why your so happy now, Mom… They make me feel quite happy to. Jeanne’s actually coming with us to, Atlas when we leave.

Willow: Really, why is she?

Winter: Well, Jaune is leaving soon to, Vale for an internship. So, Jeanne is coming with me to, Atlas where she will be my protégé for a few years. She will be training with me to become a, Huntress. I’m looking forward to it actually.

Willow: I’m happy to hear that. Coming here to be with the, Arc’s… Makes me wish I told them years ago I was pregnant with you. Acheius would have stolen me away, and brought me here, and made me his second wife. Where would have raised a large family together. I would be so happy together with them.

Winter: Yeah… Speaking of having a large family… You’re not… You’re not planning on giving me a little sibling any time soon, are you?

Willow: Oh, Winter. Nothing like that is happening. You don’t have to worry about that.

Winter: Mom… I know you’ve been sleeping with the, Juniper, and Dad.

Willow: …

Willow: Eh…?

Winter: We can all hear the three of you going at it.

Willow: Beg pardon…?

Winter: We’ve been camping in the woods because the three of you are so loud for the past week.

Willow: W-We’re that loud…?

Winter: So… Yeah. Are you really not planning on giving me a new sibling?

Willow: …

Willow: Well no… But, if another happy little accident happened; Would you be upset if that happened?

Winter: …

Winter: I wouldn’t be upset…

Willow: Oh… That’s great to hear!

Winter: I just hope I win the betting pool they set up though.

Willow: B-Betting pool? What betting pool?!

[twopoppies]

May I share some grieving thoughts from someone who has walked this road too many times for folks who may not have been through this before?

It is okay to feel how you feel, and there is no rhyme or reason to it. Your feelings are valid for you, and may not match what others are going through at the same time or at all, and it is okay. The only way out is through. Sometimes all you can do is the next right thing. And that is enough.

It is okay to box those feelings up for short periods of relief: just don’t leave them shoved away permanently. The only way out is through. But taking a time out is okay.

The loss and pain of the moment does not taint the past, in the long term. It may feel like it, but time and perspective will remind you what a gift the journey before was. That joy, love, growth while the person was alive is still valid and important and shaped who you are today. It is okay to celebrate that. It is okay if it is bittersweet. We honor the person by keeping that journey intact. They impacted us, and that is an important thing to honor in their story. Watch the videos. Replay the conversations. Celebrate what was. Don’t give death the power to ruin their positive impact on you.

Just like their absence hurts you, if you fall into being absent in your life because of the pain, you are causing your loved ones that same pain. Choose to honor the deceased’s life by loving yours fully, by being that light you are missing for the people in your life like the deceased was for you. I try to be thankful for the things I get to experience, even without them, because I am going to experience the hell out of them and then someday tell him about all the stuff he missed out on. Even though I believe he is here and sees.

Don’t perpetuate the pain, or initiate a legacy of withdrawal. Pick an honoring activity - for me it is tipping outrageously in their memory and finding joy in the joy they would have found in it. Make it something they championed, or took quiet pleasure in. Keep it to yourself, something between you and their memory. Walk a shelter dog and chat with your person, hide hug rocks, donate read books to the library, serve in a food center. Whatever makes you recall the bond you felt. And love people, for you and for them. The best legacy is one of love and joy, not sorrow and hurt.

Of course, it will be up and down. It strive for the up. Time does heal, and it DOES get better. Don’t let the negative win. Don’t let rot taint their life. OneDirection will never be the same. But it still meant a lot, and that should be honored. It can still mean a lot going forward, and that is honoring.

It has been 5 years since my last big loss. It catches me by surprise sometimes still. But their story is done, and mine goes on: I still reach for the joy I had in getting to be a part of their story. I refuse to lose that too. Because people are involved in my story now. I am still a part of theirs. And I don’t want them to have this hurt of me dropping out of my story: And I let him live on in my adventures, my good work with disadvantaged people, and my love for the people and world I am in. That is the only thing I can still give them, and with time, I am able to do that more and more.

It hurts. It hurts so much. It feels like I can’t breathe, like it overwhelms everything I do, and like I just want to hug his momma so much it causes me physical pain. But each day, it will get a little better. It will blindside you, may catch you by surprise, and that is okay. Because estoy know it won’t be like this forever.

Anyway. I thought grief was a straight line process, and if I power through the stages, it would be done with. That I was betraying their memories by laughing, finding joy, continuing my story. I hope this helps anyone feeling unsure or overwhelmed or lost or guilty.

Thank you for all of this, darling. I'm so sorry you have so much experience with grieving. But your insight is so helpful. ❤️

[thefirstknife]

I've been wondering recently - are there any instances in lore of guardians changing their classes (say - titan to warlock, hunter to titan) in lore?

I know that a guardian can learn an ability of other class (I believe I remember a lore with hunter/warlock learning titan punch), mix them (Shaw's well of radiance golden gun) or not comform to the classes at all (Drifter style) but how about just swapping at some point of life? Do you think that the Vanguard would have problem with it or it just happens sometimes?

Technically, maybe in some way, it would apply to Dredgen Yor. Aka Rezyl Azzir.

Rezyl Azzir was a Titan originally. He called himself a Titan and we even have a description and official illustration of him as a Titan:

In time his kind would be called Titan. Mountains of muscle and might and metal. His collar was fur and teeth. His person clad in ornate, golden-etched plating, trophies upon his shoulders.

However, when he turned into Dredgen Yor, he began acting more like a Hunter. It was a deliberate choice. When he spoke to his Ghost for the last time, he instructed the Ghost to separate Dredgen Yor and Rezyl Azzir as to not taint Rezyl's legacy as a great hero:

[u.2:5.4] When you speak of me, use my proper name. Tell them of the man that stands before you, not the ghost of the hero I once was. [u.1:5.2] You will always be [REDACTED] to me. [u.2:5.5] If you cannot let that man go, you will forever taint his legacy. All the good I have ever done will be washed away in the fire of who I have become.

Yor appears to have started behaving in a way that's polar opposite of what Rezyl was. Not only that, but in D1 there was a Hunter cloak called Cloak of Dredgen Yor:

Note how the Hunter symbol on the cloak is not exactly right. But for the longest time, everyone thought that he was a Hunter; or rather, that he always was. But only Dredgen Yor was a Hunter, or dressed and acted like one. Rezyl Azzir was a Titan through and through.

It's unclear if he fully swapped his class in the literal sense; was he suddenly able to use Hunter abilities? Is that possible at all? We don't know. There's no definitive records of that. He is mostly known for killing with Thorn and not much else. There's no mention of any of his abilities or supers. For example, as a Titan, he was a Striker.

So, we don't know if a functioning class swap is possible. It should be, but there's no records of it being done. The closest is Rezyl Azzir/Dredgen Yor, but unfortunately there's no mention of Dredgen Yor ever using any abilities so we can't tell. I personally think that he most likely was able to wield his Light like a Hunter, to fulfil the fantasy he was trying to sell. Maybe it wasn't perfect (just like his Hunter symbol on the cloak wasn't), but he could probably mimic some Hunter abilities.

Since it's so exceptionally rare and we have no other examples, it's probably not something that happens enough for the Vanguard to have any stance on it. It might also be tainted with Dredgen Yor's example. People might frown on the practice because of the connection to Dredgen Yor as they might assume someone was hiding something if they so drastically changed their appearance and behaviour.

[neargaztambide]

So, I developed an interest in drawing stuff, and combined with my interest with the Batman rogues, I chose to design and make lore about some of the characters. And here is the first draw I made, of Jonathan Crane!

I enjoyed drawing him, as I took a lot of inspiration from the BTAS design. And don't worry about the weird signs at the side, you'll soon find out what they mean. ;)

And as I mentioned, I made lore, a backstory for my version of Jonathan. So this is the thing I did (directly taken from the document I made). Warn you, it is a long read.

The legacy of the Crane family left a mark amongst the townsfolk of Whitevines, a farming village in the middle of Georgia. This village, at first a normal place to live, with a united community of around two hundred habitants, was keeping a secret, as dark as a starless sky and pungent as the taste of rot: people were cultists to the profane off-springs of Mingauru, the lunar god, which led them to make rituals of an unspeakable moral depravity. And of course, these abhorrent acts were headed by the Cranes for years: the rituals granted the Cranes wealth and health, at the cost of performing unredeemable acts.

Is in this background that Jonathan Crane was raised. As a child, he already felt in his bones the dreadfulness that hid in the shadows of Whitevines, even if it was a well kept secret by his family. In addition to this, Jonathan’s dreams were overrun with horrible images, which made him fearful of the world he lived in. This was caused for generations who ran rituals for capricious deities that should have remained forgotten: it was a punishment to a person who had not tainted his soul yet. Even if he felt uncomfortable to do so, Jonathan learned a fair quantity of arcane arts, thanks to his father, Wilbur Crane.

When he was fourteen, Jonathan’s family fell slowly into disgrace, which was the warning that Wilbur needed to see that Whitevines was about to follow that same path. In a desperate attempt to avoid it, Wilbur made his own child go through rituals which marked his body and mind. Jonathan developed mixed feelings with the concept of fear and the gods his town prayed: he was distrustful, and learned to be afraid of everything, and also understood that they were motors that made people go forward in their lives. And yet, as a clock engine, fear could be broken and not needed to be used anymore. For Jonathan, fear could go to such extreme lengths, to the point of making a person fearless and detached from that sentiment forever, making the person evolve and live without fear driving its life.

As an attempt to escape from his environment and seek a form of liberation, he won a scholarship to study psychology in the city of Gotham, New Jersey: only the science of the human mind could liberate him from the horrible things he had witnessed. Jonathan was the best student of his generation, receiving great academic condecorations and a promising life in the fields of both psychology and chemistry —a passion he found while studying—: he was recovering peace as his nightmares were subsiding. His good luck streak ended when he took a charged pistol to one of his lectures to teach his students about how fear motivates humankind. This led to a fatal outcome that guaranteed Jonathan’s immediate dismissal of the academic field. And that started the return of the nightmares, Jonathan’s old friends.

Desperate, Jonathan wanted to get rid of the nightmares and the constant feeling of dread that tormented his entire life. He gathered all his knowledge in the old arts of occultism, psychology and chemistry to develop a “cure” for his nightmares and omniphobia, without caring about who he had to step on to do so.

This is how Jonathan Crane created his alter ego, the Scarecrow, and ran a rampage of crime in Gotham City, with the hopes of freeing himself (and perhaps humanity) from the lethal embrace of fear.

[darkcacaocookieandfriends]

🕯️xas many as you want. I love hearing this shit

(I will do several for each one. Separated by muse. Spoilered because long as hell.)

Dark Cacao

(Candy) "When the time comes, all will come to fruition and you and I will be enemies once more. Even though I am the keeper of your name, I cannot help but feel disheartened at this scenario and yet, I know it to be so certain in my mind. I try to put it aside... Yet, I feel it with dough-chilling certainty."

(Skyline) "Skyline, my boy. You have quite the future ahead of you. So much promise in one little cookie, fallen from the sky like a gift to all of Earthbread. I can only hope, that in your quest to find yourself that you never lose sight of who you truly are...no matter who that cookie may be." Burning Spice

(Candy) "Candy Eye Cookie... If only you could see that you are not meant for greatness. The goal of a monster is always the same, and a herald cannot be made of you. Ask me how I know this. But you could never, for that is the very thing you fear. Embracing yourself is your own worst fear and yet something you cannot deny. For a monster is a monster no matter what disguise they wear."

(Candy) "Even someone like you would shrink away at my touch. The touch of a cookie so fated to only crumble all that is in his hands. Can you not see, that I too have met failure and shame? Of COURSE it hurts, and it always will but running from that will always be a neigh impossible feat. It's best to embrace the darkness in your heart. It hurts far less to do so... It's best to bury it and move forward. More than anyone, I know there are pieces far too fractured of myself to put back together. You can never be that cookie in their eyes, Candy Eye Cookie. You can never make up for those transgressions, and they will always be a brand upon you, reminding you of all you've done. At times, I wonder if you hear it too? The voices of cookies long since perished by your hands, the wailing in the spice storms, the calling of the Licorice Sea...You feel the same too, don't you? Constant reminders of your failure. Of all you could never be. It hurts you too...doesn't it?"

(Skyline) "Truly, you have the blackened heart of a Great Destroyer! I cannot wait for you to carry on my legacy, and when the time comes we will see if I get my question answered. What would it take, to destroy me? Could it be YOU, perhaps?"

(Tainted Licorice) "You try so hard not to lick the bottoms of the shoes of others, but you have been doing that all along to my DEAR FRIEND Shadow Milk. In your pursuit of freedom you only adorned yourself in even MORE chains. How amusing!" Choco Werehound/Schwarzwalder

(To Candy)

"I've got to wonder, why you try so hard to keep what little humanity you got. Why are you so afraid of being one of us? Wear it with pride. I think Red Velvet Cookie said it best, cookies came up with the term monster as an insult, something to degrade us and separate us, to put us below them. Is that how you really feel? If so, I gotta say, I thought I had a subservient issue but you got me beat. I know I'm still on my own journey to find out who I am, and I hope one day you can too. Maybe then you can finally rest that pretty head, eh?"

(Skyline) "You got so much to learn, kid! But don't worry, Uncle Brute's gonna help you! I'll teach you what it means to be a monster, what the thrill of the fight and the love of jamshed can do you!"

"I know your mother's just trying to guard your heart, but trust me it hurts you more than helps you. In this world, you're going to see things you don't like, things that will haunt you forever if you're not ready for them. She should know that more than anyone but I think that's why she tries to save you from it. She doesn't want you to hurt like her... Sorry Candy, but he's gotta know for himself. You can't save anyone from reality."

(Licorice) "I want to protect you from all the pain you feel, and yet you hide things from me. Am I...not good enough to know them? Am I not good enough to stand on equal ground with you? Am I...just a cake monster to you after all?

"If you knew how I really felt, would it change anything? You're one of the few cookies who don't run away screaming when you see me. More than anyone, you accepted me. I don't even mind being your slave anymore...In fact, I feel at home being one to you. It feels weird NOT being your slave now. That might be complacency talking but so be it. I'm not willing to change that. Am I truly a slave, though? Sometimes I feel we're more friends, buddies with benefits...You think I'd be fine with that...but I want to much more. I can't help how I feel. I just want to be the one who takes away that pain, to protect you from anyone and anything that wants to hurt you. I want to dry your tears, to kiss them all away and hold you in my arms. I shouldn't want that. I know it's taboo for someone like me to want those things from you...Guess I'm taboo, then. Guess I'm a bug, dumb brute for wanting a stupid, flat cookie to love me...if only you knew what you did to me, what you make me want to do to you... I know you gave me an option but I could never leave you. I could never not protect you. I belong to you...and I want you to belong to me."

(Tainted Licorice) "What made you agree with me? To think you too are born evil? I know you seem righteous in your convictions but...that's never been the Licorice I knew. He always had some good in his heart. He was never...truly evil. Just hurt and misunderstood. When you love someone, you love their cracks and flaws...but I can't help but wonder if this is all a symptom of something so much greater. Who broke you so bad to make you choose this path? I feel like you're scared, but you won't tell me that. I know you better than that. You always wanted to be tough to me. You always wanted to be strong...but, I know the truth. I never cared if you were or not. You want to lead, but the truth is you need someone to lean on, to rely on. Your foundation is made of salt and your crown is a bunch of rotting thorns. A true leader has to stand on their own, I gotta ask if you can like this? You assure me you can, but I have doubt in my heart. Forgive me, my love. And still, despite this, I'll follow you because in the end, there's gotta be someone to catch you when you fall and these strong arms are waiting for you when that happens. In the end it's you and me against the world, and even if we crumble to bits I'll make sure it's in each other's arms."

[whumpshaped]

My new years resolution this year is to actually start writing my own stuff instead of just tossing prompts at you to see what you do with em.

With that in mind, do you think you could give me feedback on this trope? You're free to write something based off it as well, of course, and I'll definitely eat that shit up, but maybe just looking for feedback with get the gears going to produce something.

Thinking about characters A + B. They grow up together, the closest of friends. They do great things together, they create a legacy. But as time goes on, fame and fortune does something odd to character A. They become twisted, something quite unlike how they once were, some horrible thing eating them, mind and body and soul. This virus that eats at them begins to then eat at the ever present character B as well, who is faced with the awful decision of still supporting their friend and continuing this legacy, or separating themselves away even if the emotional attachment they have is more like an artery, and cutting it may feel fatal to them.

~𐂂

(Happy New Year, hope it's treating you well thus far! Sorry for always living in your inbox, lol)

BANGER new years resolution, 100% support!!!!! also please never apologise for living in my inbox. i have blankets and snacks here for a reason /j

it got long so putting it under a cut

ABOUT THE PROMPT...... AMAZING. first of all i always love life long friends being tested by fate. because theres so many things that can end/ruin a friendship! it can just be time, people changing, interests shifting and not aligning anymore, but it can be big arguments and big angst!!! and it's HORRID, it's like a breakup!

and because you were lifelong friends everyone is asking about it. B only ever appeared with A and vice versa, and now that they do their own stuff more and more often, everyone is staring and asking "wheres A?" and B just has to grit their teeth and be like "i dont know! im not their handler :)" and they try to make it sound like a joke but it comes out a little bitter.

people are looking at A and B's friendship and forming all these parasocial thoughts about them too. people think its the best friendship. most ideal. will last forever. they place both of them on a pedestal. they might not even realise how A is changing, or they might willfully ignore it because they also grew up with this friendship in a way, they grew up always seeing A and B together and they grew up seeing the two of them do great things.

and some people very much realise that A is changing. sometimes A is alone and does cruel things, and people wish B was there to stop them. why isnt B there? whats going on? but then sometimes B is there, and people see them turn a blind eye, people see B trying to intervene only half heartedly, and they dont understand. does B condone this? and B knows that A's change in behaviour reflects on them poorly, but what are they supposed to do? sever all ties with them? get into huge arguments in the middle of the street? theyre best friends. ..or they used to be. theyre best friends only in name anymore, only because B doesnt know what else to call their relationship, only because theyve never had to call it anything else for the past 30 years.

its uncharted territory, a life without A. its terrifying.

and if B does sever the ties, theyll have to learn to live without A. theyve never had to do that. they have to leave their legacy behind because its tied to A so closely, and now its tainted, and they cant bear to be recognised for it — but its not their choice. theyll forever be "A's best friend". a title once loving but now uttered with disgust because of A's actions. some people even detest them for severing ties, they think B shouldve stayed and helped A. how will A find their way back to being a good person now? without guidance? yet other people detest B for staying even as long as they had.

honestly, B probably changed a lot along with A while they stayed. they mightve tried to go along w it and act the same way, trying to repress the visceral disgust at their own actions. now theyre trying to make amends.

B has to start again. build their life from the ground up. leave the legacy behind. leave the memories behind. make new friends, create new memories, create a new legacy. will it corrupt their next best friend too? will it corrupt them this time? maybe a legacy is useless. maybe new friends are useless. maybe they should live as a recluse, with all the trust issues and social anxiety they now have.

and what about A? did they stop seeing B as a friend a while ago? are they just using B as a prop? are they just dragging B around everywhere because theyre getting increasingly suspicious that B might want to sever ties and leave?

or does it come entirely out of left field? because of course why would anyone want to leave them, theyre A, theyre awesome and perfect, theyre great. people would give an arm and a leg to be their friend.

does A resent B for displaying more morality? does A think its dumb? i imagine A constantly goes on these unhinged rants abt how heroes dont NEED morality, and theyre heroes now! theyre almost gods with that legacy theyre leaving behind.

when B tries to end the friendship quietly and sneak off, A latches on, sinks their claws in deeper. no one fucking leaves them. not on their watch. if it turns into a loud argument, A could get manipulative, blackmail B, say all the things thatd hurt them most because they have 30 years of data and information. or they might sever ties first before B has a chance, so they feel like the choice was theirs to make. but honestly they go through much the same experience. they snap at everyone who asks about B. theyre alone. theyre lonely. they get so much crueller.

eventually they cant refer back to the legacy anymore. no one cares. theyve changed too much. theyre barely the same person. its not their legacy anymore.

happy new year :)

[the-abyssal-lord]

The Abyss Chasers - Revised 3.0

(( Hello heretics! Haven’t been as active but I am still whittling away at my usual 40k hobbying. Some months ago I made a big post about my homebrew warband, well a little bit ago I’ve finally complied it into something I’m relatively happy with. More story feeling. Hope you like it! I am also planning on writing a few 40k fics in the future to rekindle my passion for this little world I’ve made! ))

++

Chaos God: Chaos Undivided

Allegiance: Chaos

Founding: 999.M32

Numbers: roughly 1000-2000 marines and untold thousands of the Lost and the Damned

Leader: Silas Decurin, The Abyssal Lord

Home World: Vorago; Former Maiden World

Allies:

Sons of the Serpent

Rot Heralds

Brazen Skulls

Helsson’s Hounds

Battle Cry: Unknown

Colours: Black, Purple, & Silver

Pre-Heresy

Cognomen (Prior): Emperor’s Children

Home World: Chemos (Perditas)

Colours: Purple & Gold

“Let it be said that on this day we have finally cast aside the shackles of our past, our fathers and brothers, fallen so far into the depths they cannot see the stars, would weep at our achievements. We have claimed this world in the name of the Gods, in the name of our Legions, and in the name of our legacies. In the name of true glory, we shall bring ruin to the Imperium!”

- Lord Silas Decurin, at the Triumph of Vorago

The Abyss Chasers are an infamous Chaos Warband formed in the bloody age shortly following the Horus Heresy. During the Great Crusade and later Horus Heresy, the warbands eventual leader, Silas Decurin , was a captain of the Third Legion, the Emperor’s Children. Along with the rest of his brothers, Silas would sink into the depravity and excess the legion would become known for, under the sway of the Dark Prince Slaanesh. He fought in many of the major battles the Third were known for, such as Isstvan and even the Siege of Terra. When the Heresy ended and the Traitor Legions soundly defeated, Silas accompanied his brethren fleeing to exile in the Eye of Terror. There the future Abyssal Lord witnessed the Emperor’s Children further splinter, and fall apart entirely, scrabbling to survive. Awakening to the reality of the path he had fallen upon, Captain Decurin took his company and broke away from Fulgrim’s Chosen. If the remnants of the legion even noticed, Silas did not care. Over the next ten thousand years, he would gain allies and build a new force, attempting to return the Third Legion to the glory they deserved, trying to keep his brothers united despite their fracturing minds and souls, the galaxy their birthright, whilst also struggling against the corrupting, twisting influence of the Dark Gods that he and many swore allegiance to in this new, grim age.

Warband History

1. Remembrance

During the Great Crusade, the company Silas led gained many honours, fresh souls born of Chemos and raised under the light of the early Imperium. Notably fighting alongside the Sons of Horus, due to their Primarch-Father’s close friendship with the Warmaster. Captain Silas Decurin was particularly noted for his ability as a poet, even amongst his brothers of the artistic and proud Third Legion. Captain Decurin is also known to have made a friendship with a Remembrancer attached to his company, and the pair recorded many of the early campaigns in a flowing prose.

2. Heresy

It was upon the alien planet Laer that Captain Decurin and his company would be forever changed, the taint of Slaanesh falling like a shroud upon the legion. Not long from there the Warmaster’s rebellion would begin, and the company would battle throughout the Galaxy at the behest of their primarch and their leaders. Most notably Isstvan III and V, and the Siege of Terra. Along with the rest of the traitors, they would flee into the Eye of Terror after the failure of the Siege.

3. Legion

In the Eye of Terror the former united legions splintered, squabbling and fighting amongst themselves. The Emperor’s Children, fully lost to depravity, barely even noticed their fall finally sealed for the rest of time. Captain Decurin and his company were entirely in the thrall of the Dark Prince, and it would take some time for this to change, the company practically fighting on their own. Time is fickle in the warp, and it's hard to say how much time truly passed, but eventually Silas awoke to the truth, seeing how utterly ruined the legion he once saw as the finest Astartes in the Galaxy had become. At the end of the aptly named ‘Legion Wars,’ Silas would take his company and truly break away from the remnants of the Third Legion.

4. Warp

For centuries the scraps of the company would travel the currents of the warp, emerging to raid isolated worlds, void-stations, and supply fleets, and conserving their greatly diminished strength. By this point the small fleet they had was reduced to a single strike cruiser, the flagship of the company, the Echo of Glory. To the sons of Fulgrim still with minds to recall, and the former captain, they felt as though merely a century had passed, a short time in the near-immortal forms of the Astartes. When they would finally track the time in real-space, they would find nearly a millennia had passed. Drifting along the winds this would continue, the company slowly being corrupted by the malign influence of Slaanesh. Captain Decurin would struggle to keep them all on the same path, like a family watching helplessly as a loved one succumbed to addiction. Their numbers would only further diminish, a full company dropping to maybe fifty battle-brothers by the end of the thirty-second millennium.

5. Allies

Moving into millennium thirty-three, Captain Decurin was on the verge of abandoning his endeavour, the whispers of Slaanesh nearly impossible to ignore, pressing upon his mind to merely return to the Eye and join his gene-father and spiral into the depths of damnation. This changed with an unexpected arrival. On a piratical raid of an Imperial void-station, the company encountered a single frigate on the far end of the solar system they resided in. This frigate belonged to the newly formed ‘Sons of the Serpent’ warband. A faction of the enigmatic twentieth legion, the Alpha Legion. The leader of this group introduced himself as Alpharius, as the masters of misdirection always did, after Captain Decurin pressed the warlord to drop the antics, the Alpha Legionnaire would re-introduce himself as Naethar Sestus.With the aid of Sestus and his company, Silas would find some relief, and his numbers bolstered as the Alpha Legion soldiers offered an accord to band together.

6. Abyss

Some time later, the level-headed, and seemingly uncorrupted Sestus advised that Captain Decurin truly disconnect himself from the past that could no-longer be reclaimed. Silas understood that clinging to the past would not bring back the glory he knew his brothers could achieve, and thus did he rename the company, The Abyss Chasers were born, if they would be damned, they would be the hunters of the depths, not the victims. The strike-cruiser flagship would also be renamed, an acknowledgement of the god that Decurin could never truly escape from, the Echo of Ecstasy.

7. The Left Hand

On a forgotten world, now dead, the Abyss Chasers and their allies would fall upon the innocents of the Imperium. It is said a single boy stood against the Abyssal Lord, noting his courage and psychic potential, Silas would take the boy and through the baleful magics of the Empyrean, and lost sciences, raise the child to the ranks of the Astartes. Now called Vezeral, who would become one of the warbands finest leaders, and close advisor of Lord Silas. Vezeral in his risen form is a master psyker, a sorcerer of Chaos who utilizes the magic of the Dark Prince as easily as he uses his wargear.

8. The Red Hand

In the following centuries, in a tale now lost to time, the Brazen Skulls warband would splinter off from the Twelfth Legion, the World Eaters. This warband was led by Tyrax Revka, once a proud captain, now feeling the bite of the Butcher’s Nails just like the rest of his brothers. Tyrax would encounter the newly formed Abyss Chasers and their leader Silas. For reasons known only to the pair, either an understanding, a duel, or anything in-between, the berzerker lord would offer his allegiance and the forces of his warband to the Abyssal Lord, further strengthening the growing Chasers with the warriors of the Blood God. This also marked the first time the warband could be called an Undivided force.

9. Corruption

Despite the best efforts of Lord Silas and his advisors, he could not stop the endless march of the power that is the warp. The tenuous alliances of Heretic Astartes would only indulge their dark desires, bloodlust, and other whims as time went on. Even the Abyssal Lord himself was not immune, as the taint of Chaos can never be removed once it takes hold. Daemons run rampant in the depths of the Echo of Ecstasy, and the brothers of the warband mutate and twist. Silas constantly teeters on the edge of sanity at all times, keeping the Abyss Chasers together. His goals remain ever the same, but the methods grow more brutal and depraved. The honour he once sought out would forever be lost, but the glory, now that could still be attained. In response, the advisors formed the Council of Claws to keep the drifting mind of their leader on the correct path.

10. Judgment

In the Galactic North, Segmentum Obscurus, was a region of Imperial space known as the Judicium Sector, small but well traveled and fortified by various forces. In 988.M41 the Immaterium would once more spit out the twisted vessels of the Abyss Chasers, and they made their way towards the agri-world of Riothea. The planet would be raided by the warband and razed to near destruction. The local PDF held for weeks until the timely arrival of Astartes assistance in the form of the Marines Exemplar chapter. The Abyss Chasers would battle the loyalists for weeks, eventually being forced to withdraw. To the Imperium it is unknown why the heretics attacked the planet, to the Council of Claws, it was to test the defenses of the Sector, and the response times of the servants of the Corpse-Emperor.

998.M41 would see their return, a trail of worlds were razed by the warband before coming into fire with Judicium's battlefleet, and the Abyss Chasers were forced onto the capital planet Rubedo where a lengthy engagement continued for months. The local Planetary Defense Force was eventually aided by a detachment of Adepta Sororitas from the Order of the Black Sepulchre, and the Atropan 985th Imperial Guard Regiment. The fighting grew so intense that a company of Adeptus Astartes were even deployed, from the Flesh Tearers chapter. This great conflict would become known as the Scouring of Judicium, the largest engagement the warband had ever fought in since the ancient days.

11. Maiden

After being pushed back to the Eye of Terror, the Abyss Chasers were battered but succeeded in their goal, while they recovered they examined their discoveries. Just beyond the edge of the sector, close to the Eye, they had discovered a world that was held in secret by the Imperium’s foul Inquisition, never traveled and dubbed ‘taboo’ due to its connotation. An Aeldari Maiden World called Blathdahan. The mostly Slaaneshi forces could not pass up such a prime chance to bring carnage to their ruinous mistresses' most delicious foes. At the command of Lord Silas and the Council of Claws, the fleet, and the Echo of Ecstasy began the journey through the warp to find the hidden world.

12. Witch

The warband discovered the world after pinpointing coordinates stolen from Rubedo, and fell upon the lush, green world with all the wrath of the Ruinous Powers. The world would not take it lying down however, as the native Aeldari, called ‘Exodites’ fought back against their kind’s most feared enemies. Heretic Astartes and mortal cultists fought against wild xenos and their dinosaurid mounts and pets. The battles raged across the surface for weeks, but the corrupting influence of the unleashed warp eventually wore down the Exodites, and their planet would fall to the full force of the Abyss Chasers and all their accumulated allies, including the original advisors, as well as the Rot Heralds of Nurgle, and the Scions of Dawn of Tzeentch. Chaos Undivided conquered the world, and Lord Silas would lay claim to it. A hidden world known to few, a perfect foothold to launch even greater devastation upon the dogs of the corpse-god. The fallen Maiden World was renamed ‘Vorago’ from an old Chemosian word for ‘witch.’

13. Port of Call

Similar to other Chaotic ports of its kind, Vorago would quickly grow due to its proximity to the Eye. More arrivals and allies came to the banner of the Abyssal Lord. A renegade Knight known as the Violet Tear, the warband of Heretic Astartes known as Helsson’s Hounds, who are former sons of Russ, and many, many others. With the numbers swelled, the warband was no longer that broken shadow of the Third it used to be, so long ago. At the centre of the former Exodite city was a temple to their xenos gods, now renamed ‘Cordomus’ and transformed into a dark temple, and fortress, to the four gods of Chaos. In the centre of that bastion, is the throne-room of Lord Silas Decurin.

14. Thirteenth Black Crusade

In 999.M41, before the warband could begin any further plans, Lord Silas was contacted by an emissary of the new Warmaster, Abaddon the Despoiler. This envoy told the Council and the Lord of the incoming Black Crusade, the Warmaster’s attempts to attack the gates of Cadia and ram down the doors of the Imperium. Lord Silas was always unsure of the Black Legion, but he understood that Abaddon had similar aspirations, to finally bring an end to the Emperor that forsook them so long ago. The Abyss Chasers agreed to the accord, and would sail to join the Black Legion in their great siege of Cadia. It is noted they took up the colours and banners of the Warmaster’s forces during this brief period, alongside the many other groups that came to Abaddon’s call.

15. Dark Millennium

After the 13th Black Crusade came to a galaxy-shaking conclusion, the Abyss Chasers would break away from the Warmaster of Chaos’ forces and return to Vorago. Their journey was fraught with calamity as the massive warp-wound named by the Imperium as the Cicatrix Maledictum tore itself across the stars. Battered by the end of the trek, Lord Silas and the Council of Claws decreed the warband lay low for a time. Of course, the silence did not last long as only a few standard years into the new age the forces sworn to the Abyssal Lord once again began their raids. The Judicium Sector plunged into shadow as a result of the Great Rift.

16. Advent

“My brothers, we have received word of something most dire. The wretched son of the False Emperor, Roboute Gulliman, a thousand curses upon his name, lives again. Alongside him came an abomination to our perfect forms, the so-called ‘Primaris Marines.’ We will show the lapdogs what true Astartes look like, and pray to the Dark Gods that foul Gulliman meets his true and final end.”

- Lord Silas Decurin, addressing the Abyss Chasers

As the 42nd Millennium began its cycles, the Abyss Chasers would first meet Gullimans Primaris on an outskirt world called Drenades. These new marines clashed with the fallen first and showed how powerful they were despite the difference in experience. Outwardly Lord Silas would show disgust and disdain as many of the Heretic Astartes did across the galaxy, but silently he wondered if their power could not be turned to a better purpose, a purpose of enacting the will of Chaos.

Experiments would begin in the secret levels of Cordomus, under the watchful eyes of the Chasers’ Apothecaries. Indeed, Silas would even hear word of the great and terrible Fabius Bile attempting similar testing, and would wonder how perfect they could be if such creatures were created.

More and more conflicts arose across the neighbouring sectors as the forces of the Imperium pushed their way across the Cicatrix Maledictum, but the Abyss Chasers heeded it little, as always their purpose was personal glory in the name of the gods.

17. Endless War

All across the galaxy war erupts, grim and bloody and full of the laughter of the gods. Octarius saw Tyranids defeat and devour the Orks that held it for ages, the Realm of Ultramar came under siege by the noxious forces of the Death Guard, and a region of the Nephilim Sector falling to all-out carnage as the Necron xenos created the Pariah Nexus. As always, the Abyss Chasers continue their raids into the Judicium Sector and its surrounding regions, now contending with Primaris Marine bolstered chapters and renewed Inquisition forces under the Ordo Hereticus. They do not stand alone however, Vashtorr the Arkifane sending daemonic envoys to Vorago, as well as others to neighbouring warbands. Their numbers increased with the techno-arcane horrors of the aspiring god. There are also the ever-flowing arrivals of lost and damned, demigod and mortal alike. War is eternal, war is ecstasy, and the Abyss Chasers welcome it always.

[salora-rainriver]

Thinking about the ways in which tragedies pass into memory.

Within a decade, 9/11 became an edgy joke. Within two decades, its impact is erased entirely.

9 years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the tragedy is given a monstrous face. Four decades after the tragedy, the famed monster has become a mascot, a charming beast - but the horror is still so fresh, and the movie Akira begins with Tokyo flattened. To this day, we look back with silence and horror, sometimes anger at the senselessness of those responsible.

Hiroshima and Nagasaki may well remain a moment of solemnity forever.

Some part of it must surely be the magnitude. Five thousand dead in a building collapse in a major city, on the one hand. On the other, so many gone in an instant that we will likely never truly know the proper number.

But there’s another difference, and I wonder how much of a factor it has been:

The United States’ retaliation after 9/11 was immediate, misdirected, excessive.

Japan, by contrast, surrendered, and their vengeance never came. There could be no retaliation for the Bomb. Only picking up the pieces of the shattered cities and counting the dead.

I remember the question “where were you when the twin towers fell?” My mother can answer that question, but I cannot. I was 4. And it’s so hard to muster an ounce of sadness for the senseless loss of life, knowing the rabid jingoism, the hatred and senseless violence done in the name of those dead.

I have more respect for a tragedy committed by my country decades ago, than one that my own mother remembers clearly.

And I think there’s perhaps a lesson there. That the way to honor the dead, to ensure their legacy remains forever pure, is not to slaughter in their name. Do not retaliate, but instead wait. mourn. Let their memories linger. Let it pass into record, untainted by bloodlust.

And I think about all this… when I look at October 7.

Hundreds dead in a senseless attack. In response, a genocide is amplified. In the name of retaliation, thousands are slaughtered. Children killed and starved, and across the airwaves there is little mourning, only hatred and fury.

Already, there is no respect for those who died, not out of callousness, but because their memories are tainted by the bloodlust and atrocity committed, supposedly, to avenge them. It has only been 3 months. Who is mourning them? Who should mourn them, even? We need space in our hearts for the thousands slaughtered since.

It is nothing less than a desecration to spill so much blood upon their graves.

I’m thinking about all this. It is all so very sad.

[mads-weasley]

Legacy Pt. 9: Monsters

tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two updates within a week? I'm on a ROLL! I am officially done with school, so I can have a lot more time to write! I look forward to finishing this series! I do not own any characters except (y/n)!

Summary: Walker's unexpected arrival during the fight with the Flag Smashers leaves a lasting impression that will forever taint the legacy of Captain America.

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST, not much comfort, but a little... I'm sorry? I think?

Karli crossed a line when she decided to threaten Sarah and the boys, and Sam was fuming as the trio suited up. As (y/n) was getting dressed, Sharon knocked on the door.

"Coming," she announced, zipping up her suit. The woman was surprised to see Sharon's smiling face.

"Sharon, hi. What's up?"

She slid through the open door carrying a vest in her hand. "So, I know you got banged up last time you guys fought the Flag Smashers, so here's one of my spare Kevlar vests."

(Y/n) shook her head. "I'll be fine, Sharon. But thank you."

Not taking no for an answer, she held out the vest to the (y/h/c). "Please take it."

"Fine," she sighed, and as Sharon began to walk away, (y/n) called out to her. "Thanks for everything. Really."

With a nod, she left (y/n) to finish getting ready.

The trio booked it to the location Sarah had given Sam, and his anger radiated off him in waves. Turning the corner into a large courtyard, Sam yelled for the girl.

"Karli!"

Within a few seconds, she appeared, leaning over the second-floor railing. As they were hurrying up the steps, Bucky grabbed (y/n)'s uninjured hand gently.

"Be careful, alright? We know how dangerous they can be."

Glancing at Karli ahead of them, she sighed, holding up her casted hand. "How can I forget?"

He sent her a glare. "I'm serious. Last time they put you in the hospital, doll. I won't let it happen again."

"I know," (y/n) whispered, squeezing his hand with a smile. "Sharon gave me the vest, but I think you were really the mastermind behind that ordeal."

He raised his eyebrows incredulously, faking hurt. "What? Me? Care about my girlfriend? I could never."

(y/n) shook her head silently, squeezing his hand again. "I love you."

Bucky returned the small smile. "I love you, too."

The couple stood behind Sam as he approached Karli.

"You called my sister? That's how we're gonna play this?"

"Sam," she began. "I would never hurt her. I wanted to understand you better."

Glancing over Sam's shoulder at (y/n) and Bucky, she stood up off the railing she'd been leaning against.

"I see you, um, didn't come alone."

Sensing the tension, Bucky stepped slightly in front of (y/n), blocking the girl's view of her.

"We have to end this now," Sam demanded, but she didn't bat an eye.

"I don't want to hurt you. You're just a tool in the regimes I'm looking to destroy."

Slightly zoning out of the conversation, (y/n) glanced around the courtyard, looking for any signs of it being a trap. After a few seconds, Sam turned to them quickly, breaking (y/n) from her trance.

"It's Walker."

In a split second, Bucky jumped down to the first floor but was slammed mid-air by Karli, leaving him groaning on the floor. (y/n) yelled for him while Sam flew down, fighting the girl while Bucky recovered. By the time (y/n) made it down the stairs, Karli was on the ground and Bucky had finally made his way to his feet.

Sam was out of breath as he gestured towards the door. "Go! I'll send you the location."

The couple sprinted out the door, and Bucky easily more than doubles her speed. As she moved, she could feel the vest constricting her movements, and (y/n)growled under her breath. She hated wearing body armor.

"I'll meet you there, Buck!" She yelled, taking a back alley as a shortcut. Weaving through the buildings to the warehouse, (y/n) froze as a blonde woman appeared in front of her. In her hand, she held a flag smasher mask. Recognition flashed in the woman's eyes and she took off around the corner.

Hot on her heels, (y/n) sprinted after her for a minute until she turned and ran into an alleyway. As she went to follow the woman, (y/n) barely missed a well-aimed swing for her face by ducking quickly. The avenger knew she couldn't beat a super-soldier in brute strength, so she reached down at her waist for the shock batons Sharon had given her.

They crackled to life as (y/n) swung at the blonde. Quickly dodging the hit, the girl tried to sweep (y/n) off her feet, but she was already one step ahead, jumping out of reach. Luckily for (y/n), something caught the woman's attention in the main street behind her. Taking advantage of the distraction, (y/n) slammed the baton into her shin, bringing her to one knee. With one swing, she was out cold.

Glancing behind her, (y/n) saw someone dash past the opening of the alleyway. Confused, she ran to the entrance, only to see multiple people running as well. Cursing to herself, she took off in the direction they came from.

Within a minute, she came upon a scene she could only describe as horrific. John Walker had a flag smasher pinned under his knee, screaming at him. He then raised the shield, Steve's shield, above his head, aiming for the man below him.

"John!" She yelled, running towards him. "Stop! You don't want to do thi-"

She was cut off when he turned suddenly and slammed the shield into her chest, sending her flying through the air. She landed on the hard stone floor, gasping for breath as she lay on her back, unable to move.

Bucky and Sam ran onto the scene moments later, and Bucky's heart dropped at the sight of her on the ground and the pained gasps that escaped her lips.

"(Y/n)!" The soldier cried, dropping to his knees next to her. "You're okay! You're okay! Breath for me, doll."

With wide eyes, she continued to open her mouth, but she couldn't draw in any air. Her hands flew to her chest in panic. Bucky looked up at Sam with desperate eyes.

"Sam! I don't know what to do!"

He ran to their side. Luckily he knew what to do.

"Get this vest and suit off her," Sam ordered. "It's too tight. Then sit her up and calm her down!"

Even though he was freaking out just as much as Bucky, he knew he had to keep his cool for his friend's sake. He'd never seen him so frantic.

Instantly, Bucky reached and ripped off the vest and unzipped the suit, revealing her white tank top underneath. He peeled the rest of the bodysuit off her sweaty body torso as Sam sat her up against his chest. They knew she needed to get air fast or she would pass out.

"(Y/n/n). You're okay. Breathe. You can do it. Breathe with me."

He inhaled once slowly, but her attempt failed. Seeing the fearful tears in her eyes, he cupped her cheeks. "You have to breathe, doll. Now, with me!"

"Can't!" She mouthed, shaking her head roughly.

"Yes, you can!"

Once again, he took a deep breath, and this time (y/n)'s chest rose just barely with air. He could've cried with relief but he willed the tears away as he focused on helping her breathe.

"There you go. Attagirl," he cooed, smoothing her (y/h/c) hair off her sweaty forehead. "You're alright."

When she had gotten better control of her breathing, he pulled her into his chest, rubbing her back gently. Looking up towards the fountain, he saw the aftermath of Walker's rage: an unrecognizable body covered with blood.

Sam read Bucky's mind as he glanced around them at the growing crowd. "We need to get out of here."

With a nod, he helped (y/n) to her feet, holding an arm around her waist. The lack of oxygen made her dizzy, so she leaned on him heavily to stay upright. Bucky's stomach churned with anger as he gazed at Sam with a blank expression.

"I'm going to kill John Walker."

"No, Buck," she wheezed, voice low. "That's the last thing you need to do."

His hold on her tightened slightly. "So he can just get away with almost murdering that guy and almost killing you? I don't think so. "

"Buck, come on," Sam scoffed. "I know you're angry, but we've got to let the justice department handle him."

A grunt was the only answer he got as they walked toward the safe house.

Bucky sat next to (y/n) on the couch, hand draped over her shoulders, tucking her into his side. Since Walker's outburst, he hadn't left her side. As they flipped through the TV channels, every station was reporting on what had transpired.

"CAPTAIN AMERICA RECORDED KILLING UNARMED MAN AND INJURING AVENGER, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," each headline read. The numerous videos and different angles of the incident were already viral, with millions of people seeing the cruelty through a screen.

When (y/n) saw the video for the first time, she was horrified. In the moment, she was so focused on trying to breathe that she didn't even notice what John had done to the man. Bucky, who hadn't seen her get hit earlier, took it the hardest when the video depicted (y/n) getting slammed by Walker. Every time it replayed, she could feel him tense beside her. Sensing his anger, she turned it off and turned toward him.

"I'm okay, Buck," she whispered, pulling his hand up to her heart. "I'm fine."

He brought a hand up to her cheek, his thumb ghosting over a healing bruise. "You weren't fine when you couldn't breathe."

"James, I-"

"No," he interrupted, his voice shaking. "Do you know how terrible it was to see you on the ground like that? I didn't know if you were dying, or-"

His throat closed up at the thought, and this time, he couldn't stop the tears from filling his eyes. "I just knew I couldn't lose you, too. I've lost everyone I love and I refuse to lose you, (y/n). I won't."

A single tear leaked out of his eye, but (y/n) was quick to wipe it away as she rested her forehead against his. "You're not going to lose me, James. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," he whispered, capturing his lips in hers. Running a hand into her hair, his tongue slipped through her parted lips, deepening the kiss.

Before it could go any further, Sam burst into the room. "I've got a location on Walk-"

He cut himself off when he looked up from his phone at the scene in front of him. "Sorry guys, you can make out later. Let's get Walker."

Glaring, Bucky quickly got up off the couch, following Sam out the door. When he noticed (y/n) doing the same, he whipped around to face her.

"You're not going. Not after earlier," he insisted.

She brushed by him with a smirk. "I'm going. End of story."

"Wha-"

"Nope, come on, Barnes."

Grumbling he ran into another room to grab something before running after her. When he caught up, she looked back just in time to see her Kevlar vest being shoved over her neck. She threw her hands up with a groan as it was Bucky's turn to wear a smirk.

"This thing saved you last time, so don't think you're not going to wear it."

The trio quickly made their way through the city to Walker's hideout, which was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. As they neared the entrance, Sam stopped them.

"As much as I want to kill him," he glanced at Bucky. "I think that we need to try and talk him down first."

(Y/n) nodded to the pair. "I agree, but after earlier, I don't know if we'll get anywhere."

"I hope we don't," Bucky deadpanned.

Both (y/n) and Sam's eyes widened.

"Just cause I decided not to kill him doesn't mean I don't want to kick his-"

"Alright," Sam interrupted. "Let's go. (Y/n), I don't want you go get involved unless absolutely necessary."

With a nod from the (y/h/c), they walked into the dark warehouse. They found John on his knees with the shield in front of him. Hearing their footsteps, he looked up slowly, craning his neck from side to side before whispering something to herself. She and Bucky shared a worried glance, and he stepped in front of her protectively.

Sam spoke first. "Walker."

As he got closer, his eyes found (y/n)'s smaller figure behind Bucky. "You guys should see a medic, you don't look so good."

"Stop, Walker."

"What?" The man asked raising his voice, "You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!"

Bucky spoke up, withholding anger as he spoke calmly. "He didn't kill Lemar, John. Don't go down that road. Believe me, it doesn't end well."

"I'm not like you."

Blood boiling at the comment, (y/n) started to walk towards him, but Bucky shot an arm out to stop her.

"I assumed you'd be down for the count," John sneered. "Too bad that vest did its job."

The calm version of Bucky was gone in an instant. "What did you just say?" He growled, taking a step closer to Walker.

Wanting to delay a fight for as long as possible, Sam stepped up next to Bucky, holding a hand out toward the phony captain. "Listen, it was the heat of the battle. Okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record."

(y/n)'s eyes were glued to the bloody shield as she spoke. "We don't want anyone else to get hurt."

John was calm. Too calm, and that was what scared her the worst. She'd seen anger, but this was something different. This was something much darker.

"John. You gotta give me the shield, man."

Lifting his head, he looked at each of them with a sick grin. "Oh. So that's what this is. You almost got me."

Sam shook his head. "You made a mistake."

"You don't want to do this."

Looking up from the floor, Bucky clenched his fist. "Yeah, we do."

(Y/n) took a deep breath, knowing what was about to go down. By the time she'd let it out, Bucky lunged towards Walker, and the battle had begun. She just hoped they'd come out on top against the monster before them.

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[jellogram]

Listen I know Kanye is a bad dude who should not have a platform and who has irreparably tainted his legacy over and over. I know. But listen. That man has a way of saying things that makes them stick in your brain forever and ever for no reason. The most random shit becomes mental glue in his mouth. Sometimes when I'm sleepless at 4am what pops into my head is "I like some of the Gaga songs but what the FUCK does she know about cameras"

[lambrinichampagne]

I agree it will taint his reputation but eventually I believe people will become far enough removed from it that he can get like mostly peace. I have to have hope for him

Mostly peace is what we can hope for.

But for context when I say this will follow him forever, I am speaking from experience.

I'm a massive fan of a hockey player called Patrick Kane. Over a decade ago he was accused of rape. Much like with George now, he was assumed guilty before he had a chance to say anything. People didn't like him, so the accusation was enough.

Long story short, but this wasn't a "he said she said" type situation. There was a lot of evidence and it was all on his side. Name something that could have exonerated him and it existed.

And we were told all about the evidence by the state prosecutor because they didn't want to be accused of letting him off because he was famous. So we know without a shadow of a doubt he was innocent.

Anon, I want you to search Patrick Kane on twitter and tumblr. You will see a lot of love for him. He is a fantastic hockey player loved by other players and fans alike. But you what you'll also see? People uncritically calling him a rapist, saying he should be in prison and that his legacy should be to rot.

My hope is that George and Dream will leave twitter and will continue to post to youtube. My hope is that nearly everything can go back to normal for them in every aspect of their lives. But I don't have much hope that 10 years from now people won't still be calling them groomers and rapists.