#Takes up the mantle of killer in other ways almost ironically because its all he can imagine being

[funsize-cenobites]

Australian Werewolf Sniper....

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Buried Alive

Summary: Reader wakes up buried in a coffin, Dean, Sam, Cas, and Jack make it to her just in time.  

TW/CW: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Reader is buried alive, Reader has a dislocated shoulder and broken leg, Dean has a break down, ghost makes an appearance, also Reader writes a goodbye note which is in italics, gets kind of angsty/sad at times.

Requested?: Yes! A lovely Anon said, “Hello love, may I pleaaase request a dean x reader one shot where she gets Burried alive (and she's already injured) because they got separated on a hunt and she only have a few minutes left before dean saves her and after she wakes up he gets a panic attack because he was so scared of losing her and she's the only one who can calm him down?? Pretty pleaaase can you include details I looove when I can picture every scene especially while she's trapped...”

Word Count: 2,372

A/N: This got pretty long pretty quick lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! It was really fun to write and I tried to put in lots of detail. As always, requests are open and love to all!

[This gif highkey lowkey hurts my heart...]

Your POV

   Waking up in a dark, musty, wooden box is never a good thing, especially when your leg is bent the wrong way and your right shoulder is throbbing from being out of socket. Unfortunately, that’s exactly where I’ve found myself upon waking up. I try to remember what happened and recall separating from Sam and Dean, after some debate, to draw out the ghost we were hunting. I was looking around the old church and got knocked out.  

   Out of instinct, I press the palm of my left hand against the worn, splintery wood and try to force it upwards. Upon doing so, soft, damp dirt flows into the cracks. I drop the lid back down as my heart begins racing. I force myself to stay calm as I search to see what might be left in my pockets. Unfortunately, whatever put me down here thought to take all my weapons. It’s not like they’d do me any good at the moment anyway, I suppose. I do, however, find my phone in my jacket pocket. With a shaking hand, I pull it out and press the home button, I hope and pray, to whatever deity might actually be listening, that I have bars. No such luck.  

   I just so happen to glance at the lid above me and in the dim light of my phone, I see them. Long scratch marks litter the underside of the lid. Suddenly, the burger and fries that I had for lunch starts preparing for launch sequence in my stomach. I look back at the screen of my phone as if I might have miraculously gotten bars in the span of the past few minutes and of course find none. What I do find just might be my savior. I train my attention on my phone’s lock screen picture of me, Dean, Sammy, Cas, and Jack leaning against the hood of Baby. “Alright Cas, you there?” I pause, wondering what to tell him, “I don’t know where I am but I know that I’m buried underground. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here but I can feel the oxygen is getting low.” I might not have enough time left. I decide to type out a goodbye message on the notes app on my phone:

Hey boys,

   I might not make it out of this musty ass box so I thought I’d write this out here. I want you guys to know that I love you. Take care of each other and please for the love of all that’s good don’t try to bring me back, no matter how manageable you think the cost is. I never thought that I’d go out this way, always wanted it to be a blaze of glory, but here I am. Remember the good times we’ve had and remember me as the badass hunter that I once was and not the dumbass hunter who managed to get herself caught by a spook and shoved in a pine box. Anyway, tell Baby I love her. Dean, I love you too. Keep moving forward for me. There’s a letter in my journal for you.

                   I’ll be waiting for you boys on the other side,

                  In the words of Jimi Hendrix, “Excuse me while I kiss the sky.”

    I consider trying to add a Metallica or Zeppelin reference as I finish typing the last sentence but can’t think of one that would fit and hit save instead. Darkness creeps in on the edges of my vision before overtaking me.

Dean’s POV

   “Where the hell is she, man?” I ask Sammy as I pace back and forth across the room, “She should’ve been back a while ago and all my calls are going to voicemail. I’ve even left voicemails and got nothing.”

   “I don’t know, Dean,” Sammy answers as he peeks out the blinds on the window into the night, “We could-” he’s interrupted as a flap of wings is heard. I turn around and find Cas and Jack both standing there.

   Before I can ask, Cas launches into an explanation, “(Y/N) prayed to me. She said she’s buried underground and that the oxygen is getting low.”

   My heart leaps into my throat. Damn it, why did I let her go off alone? I go to punch the closest wall but Sammy catches my hand, “Can you figure out where she is?”

   “Yes,” Jack answers, “We would’ve gone straight there but we... don’t have shovels.” I grab my keys and jacket and race out the door with Sammy, Cas, and Jack right behind me, Cas spouting off coordinates. We get in the car and Sammy gives me directions and I pull out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. I have to get to her as quickly as possible. I can’t lose her. Not now and not to something like this. She deserves to go down fighting not buried and helpless. In the rearview mirror, I can see Cas’s expression of concern and Jack’s knee bouncing as he fidgets with his shirt. I’m reminded that I’m not the only one worried about (Y/N) and take a rain check on my own impending melt down. Sammy shakily points at a turn up ahead and I take it on two wheels.

   After a couple more turns, I pull off on the side of the road behind an old beat-up clunker, beside a wooded area. Sammy leads us straight to the coordinates and we get to digging. I’m almost certain that the guys can hear my heart pounding as I hope with all I’ve got that she isn’t buried very deep. Finally, as our shovels hit wood, I carefully jump into the hole to pull the lid off of the coffin. I toss the lid to the side and my heart takes up residence in my throat once again as I discover that she’s out cold. I quickly and carefully wrap my arms under her and lift her up to Sammy who lays her gently on the ground as I climb out of the hole.

   When I drop to my knees on the leaf strewn ground beside her and pull her into my lap, Cas has his palm on her forehead, “She’s still alive. I've healed the break in her leg but her shoulder needs to be popped back into place before I can heal it.”

   Sammy lays a hand on Cas’s shoulder, “We can worry about the shoulder later.”

   I pull her close to me, careful of her shoulder, and beg, “Baby, you gotta wake up.” I kiss her forehead, “Please wake up. I can’t lose you.” It’s silent as I let my tears fall. Jack drops his knees on the ground beside us and Sammy and Cas squat down as well. They’re careful to give us space but I know they’re silently hoping just as hard as I am that she’ll wake up quickly.  

   “Guys, I think we should-” Sammy stops as she takes a deep breath.

   “Hey sweetheart, you awake?” I ask as my heart starts racing. I brush her hair out of her eyes. It takes a few seconds but her eyes finally open.  

   She curls into my chest as I hold her tighter, “I was so scared that I’d lose you.” I can’t stop the flood of tears that break through the dam.  

   She slowly sits up and throws her legs to either side of me before scooting closer and wrapping her arms around my waist, loosely due to her shoulder, “Shhh, it’s okay baby. I’m here.”  

   I say nothing and bury my face in her neck and try my best to stop crying, “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go off alone. I should’ve been there with you. I should’ve-”

   She stops me, “Don’t do that, Dean. Remember how we talked about this?”

   “But I-”

   “No, it was my decision. It’s not your fault,” she says calmly. She rubs my back and begins humming Metallica and soon I’ve managed to stop crying but unfortunately, I continue hiccupping. I pull away and look over her shoulder at the guys. As much as I don’t want to let her go yet, we need to get her shoulder fixed and I’m sure they want hugs too. She kisses my cheek before getting up.  

   She hugs all three of them before returning to Sammy, “Can you pop this back in place for me?”

   “Y-you sure?” he asks, confused as to why she doesn’t want pain killers first.

   “Yeah, it’s not the first time and it probably won’t be the last,” she chuckles. He pops her shoulder back into place before Cas heals it for her.  

   Finally, she returns to me and wraps her arms tightly around me, “Let’s get out of here.” We turn to walk out of the woods and pass a church that I didn’t even notice on the way in, that must’ve been the one she wanted to check.

   “Uh, guys, we have a problem,” Jack states. I tear my eyes away from the church and look ahead of us. Standing, or rather floating, just a few yards away is the ghost we had been hunting.  

   I sigh, “Shit, we don’t have any salt or iron with us.”

   “No but I know where some is,” (Y/N) says excitedly. How on earth is she so ready to spring back into it right after almost dying?

Your POV    I drag Dean with me and the other guys follow as I run into the church. I bolt down the stairs to my right as we enter and find exactly what I’m looking for. A fireplace in one of the offices down here still has iron pokers hanging on its mantle. I remembered seeing them when I came through here the first time. I also happen to remember that there’s a kitchen down here too. I take an iron poker for myself and hand Sam and Dean one, “Cas, Jack, you guys might want to fly the coop. We can handle this.” They look unsure but leave anyway in a whoosh of wings. I take off toward the kitchen but unfortunately find no salt. That’s when Sammy is thrown against a wall. Dean and I whip around to find the ghost holding Sammy by the neck. Dean slashes through it without hesitation and it disappears and Sam regains his breath.

   “Please tell me you have some idea of how to get rid of this guy,” I ask Sammy.

   “Not quite,” he responds.

   Dean looks dumbfounded at both of us, “There’s literally a cemetery right outside.”

   “No, he’s pissed off because he wasn’t buried in the church cemetery like he felt he was supposed to be because he was the pastor,” Sammy informs, “The legends say they buried him in an unmarked grave after burning him at the stake for witchcraft.”

   “Shit, so we’re not looking for bones then,” Dean mumbles, looking around the office.

   “Right now, it looks like all we can do is get the hell out of here and try to dig around for what might be keeping him here,” I explain. With this, we all three high tail it to the car. We have to stop a few times along the way to slash through the ghost but finally, we make it and head off on our way back to the motel.

   Once we’re finally back in our motel room, I shrug my jacket off and head for the shower, “I’m gonna clean up really quick and then we can get something to eat and some rest and revisit this case in the morning.” The boys agree so I grab some clean clothes out of my bag and head for a warm, relaxing shower.  

   I pull of the dirty, sweaty clothes and step under the warm spray. I let the grim and gross wash away some before washing off with the soap. I wash my hair as well and only pull myself out of the shower when my stomach growls. I step out and dry off before pulling on my clothes. I’m working on drying my hair when I step out of the bathroom to find Dean and Sammy both sitting on the end of the bed with tears in their eyes. I tilt my head, “What’s wrong guys?”

   I drop the towel on top of my bag and step over in front of Dean as he hands me his phone. Looking down at the screen, I read what I thought I had saved to my notes on my own phone. Apparently, I was so out of it when I typed it up that I accidentally typed it up in a message to Dean and hit send when I thought I hit save. My heart sprints in my chest as I look back up at Dean and try to explain, “Dean, I-”

   He says nothing and instead stands and wraps his arms around me to once again pull me in close to his chest. I can feel him shake as he tries to hold back his tears. He pulls away and looks me in the eye, “Did you really think you wouldn’t make it out of that?” I nod solemnly. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, “Well, I’m glad you did. Next time, you can tell me that in person when we go down together, yeah?” I mentally thank him for not mentioning the letter tucked away in my journal.

   I nod again as Sammy chuckles, “I should’ve known that even when you think you’re saying your last words, they’re going to be attempts at humor and classic rock references.”  

   I smile and laugh, “I thought the Hendrix reference was rather poetic.”

   Dean looks at me laughs weakly, “I figured you’d have thrown in a Zeppelin or Metallica reference.”

   I shake my head as I head for the door because my stomach growls, “I thought about that but I couldn’t think of one that would fit. Besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin some of your favorite bands for you.” Together the three of us head for dinner but I know in the back of my mind that we’ll be recovering from today’s events for a while to come.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii​

Dean Winchester Taglist: @akshi8278

[idiot-with-a-cat-pen]

Day 3: Weapons (Tyrian Callows, Professional Homophobe)

It’s a well-known fact that you can’t hurt your soulmate, Aura or no Aura. Sometimes, when a Huntsman or Huntress has used their weapon for long enough, it becomes considered a part of them. 

Tyrian tries to stab Clover one fateful day, and Harbinger bounces off.

Rating is.... probably G

Word Count: 1776 (the same year that- I’ll stop now)

on ao3 here.

Clover dodges one slash of Harbinger and crouches in the snow with Kingfisher at the ready. He doesn’t get the chance to use his weapon as Qrow spins again and brings his scythe down towards Clover’s head.

He dodges it almost effortlessly, but as they spin to attack each other again, he can’t help but wonder what got them here. Flashes of memories appear and disappear before he can pick through them, reminding him of Robyn’s attack and how Qrow joined in.

This can’t be the right thing to do, can it? Even as he thinks it, he knows the answer. Of course it isn’t, not if it means Mantle dies. Clover slows down his next strike, and maybe Qrow sees the hesitation in his eyes, because Harbinger halts inches from his face.

Qrow opens his mouth to say something, and that’s when Tyrian erupts from the wreckage of the airship. Clover shoots one agonized glance at the crash site because Robyn is there and he’ll never forgive himself if he’s just let Tyrian kill her.

Another piece falls off the airship with a loud clunk, revealing what Clover thinks is a flash of Robyn’s light hair. He doesn’t have time to confirm it as Tyrian lunges at him, blades outstretched.

Raising Kingfisher to block the blade, Clover is mostly unprepared for Tyrian to dive down and to the side, his tail reaching up to stab him under his weapon. He lifts his other hand in a clumsy attempt to deflect it, but he knows it’s not enough.

Qrow bends over nearly backwards and drives Harbinger into the snow between Tyrian’s stinger and Clover before he uses the momentum to flip over it.

The scorpion Faunus pauses in surprise, the wicked amusement on his face momentarily being replaced by a growl. While he crouches, mostly still, Qrow jerks Harbinger to the side and smacks Tyrian’s tail away.

The three of them move at once, but Clover’s the first one to get hit back by one of Tyrian’s kicks. He goes flying, barely avoiding the Faunus’s whipping tail. As he lands in the snow, Qrow pauses in his attack.

The break lasts only for a second before Qrow moves for Tyrian again. “Me and you have a score to settle.” Clover remembers something about Tyrian’s old stinger on the journey to Haven, but the memory seems hard to grasp in the haze of the battle.

“Oh, I agree,” Tyrian responds in that eerily light voice of his. It’s one thing when a serial killer is shadowed and menacing, and it’s another when that same serial killer acts like this. Whatever it is about Tyrian that makes him like this, he seems a lot scarier because of it. “So what’s say we put the kid to bed and then finish it?”

Qrow’s scythe stops spinning as Tyrian slides away. His eyes narrow as they slide between Tyrian and Clover, and then he’s moving for both of them.

Clover doesn’t know why he does it, but the next thing he knows, he casts Kingfisher towards Qrow instead of Tyrian. It’s stupid, so stupid, and he knows it, but something about the look in Qrow’s eyes was too hostile to ignore.

Red eyes light with surprise, telling Clover that he’s just misjudged the situation. Just like he misjudged the situation on their night off, and that night’s conversation alone had made Clover want to die. If only he’d just stopped to think before he’d made that last comment. If only he had realized that that might have been a line that he shouldn’t have crossed, not yet. Clover shakes his head. He can’t dwell on what went wrong that night. He has bigger problems to deal with. Now it’s serious, infinitely more serious, and his life is on the line-

Clover wants to stop, but there’s no going back now. Qrow whirls on Clover, Harbinger already moving to slash across his gut. Clover blocks it with Kingfisher, but Tyrian kicks him forwards.

There’s no time to explain as he tries to hold both of them off at once, the opportunity to fix things long gone. Blow after blow lands on him, and although Qrow’s are slightly softer, he’s not completely holding back.

It’s ironic really. That one night where he’d made the wrong call, he’d thought that they were friends enough for that. For the hint of a real invitation to be something more. He had been wrong then. And now, here in the snow around Mantle, he’s managed to think that they weren’t friends enough. Great.

Harbinger goes flying, but Qrow doesn’t hesitate, not for long. He punches Clover hard in the side, and as he staggers backward, Tyrian’s bullets slam into him.

Three shots. Three shots are all it takes for his Aura to break. Clover falls to the ground, gasping. There’s no luck to save him now.

Qrow sees the teal ripples spread over Clover’s skin and stops, indecision clear in his eyes. They remember Harbinger too late as a dark blur streaks by both of them with a glint of metal too big to be from Tyrian’s own weapons.

Clover spins too slowly, but as Harbinger moves towards him, a sense of ease passes through him like his body knows the massive sword can’t hurt him. This is a terrible time to be testing theories, but Clover has little choice as his instinct makes him stop the movement.

Harbinger stabs into his side, cutting through the cloth of his uniform- and then stops. Clover’s brain starts screaming almost immediately, and he nearly groans out loud. This is not the time for this, but it slips out anyway.

“This is blatant homophobia, you know,” Clover smirks, and kicks Tyrian in the face.

Tyrian goes down with a cry of pain and surprise, his Aura shattering. Faster than he should be able to, Qrow appears at Clover’s side in- are those feathers?

The scorpion Faunus rolls away from Qrow’s first kick and scrambles to his feet, turning and running in the opposite direction. As he leaves, Clover swears he can hear a mutter about necessary changes to the plan. He wonders briefly if he should go after him, but his lack of Aura tells him it might not be a good idea. Qrow doesn’t move either, so Clover stays put as Tyrian rushes farther and farther into the tundra.

Qrow turns to Clover, uncertainty shining in his beautiful red eyes. “Lucky dodge?” His tone holds a hint of hope that Clover prays isn’t because Qrow doesn’t want him for a soulmate.

“Not at all,” Clover murmurs, turning to show him the long line on his side where Harbinger cut into his uniform. “It just didn’t…”

“Oh,” Qrow says, eyes the size of moons. Harbinger crashes into the snow as its owner turns to Clover. “Soulmates?”

Clover nods. He collapses Kingfisher back into its portable form and returns it to his belt. “I’m sorry.”

It’s a good thing he says it the way he does, because any other tone might make it sound like he’s about to arrest Qrow anyway. He takes a tentative step towards Qrow, and then another.

Qrow reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Clover’s before he can. Clover pauses, surprised, and then pulls Qrow closer to him.

They might have an escaped serial killer on their hands, but Clover doesn’t particularly care. He doesn’t even mind what kind of soulmate Qrow wants- platonic, romantic, either is fine with him.

“So… what now?” Qrow rasps, snapping him out of the moment.

Clover meets his eyes and sees the question hidden there. Will he go with Qrow, or will he stay loyal to Ironwood? For a second, it hurts that Qrow doesn’t trust him enough, but he has a right. At least Clover knows his answer.

He thinks he’s always known the answer, deep down. Clover bends down and hands Qrow Harbinger as an airship lands thirty feet away from them. “I’m coming with you.”

Qrow smiles and takes his sword. “Then that’s what matters, isn’t it?” He glances at the two soldiers from the first airship now running for them. “...We might want to go.”

“No real time for that now,” Clover says.

“...For the record, I feel bad about this.”

“About what-”

His soulmate spins and punches the first soldier in the face, his other first taking out his partner a second later. Before Clover can blink, Qrow lifts them both up and starts dragging them towards the airship.

“Can you get Robyn?” Qrow asks as he pulls the unconscious soldiers towards the ship. “I think she’s waking up anyway.”

Clover stares for a second before he nods and runs for the airship. Before he gets there, Robyn emerges from the wreckage.

“So, you and… Qrow, was it?” Robyn smirks. “I never would have guessed I’d get to see the day when you got a boyfriend after Team CHRY split up.”

“He’s not my boyfriend yet, Robyn.”

“Yeah, but he’s your soul- did you say yet?”

Clover gives her a faint grin. “You heard me.”

Robyn looks about three seconds from jumping for joy as she follows him towards Qrow’s airship. “Are you going to ask?”

“Not now,” Clover replies, casting a glance towards the dark storm on the horizon. “I think we might have bigger problems.”

Robyn follows his gaze. “Ah.” As they step into the ship, she says, “Well, anyway, when you do, you have to let me know. I want to be there.”

“Nosy.”

“Hey, you were there when I asked Fiona out.”

“You stammered for five minutes until I asked her for you.”

Waving a hand to dismiss his words, Robyn replies, “Whatever. So are you going to let me be there, or…?”

“I don’t know. I’m full of spite, after all.”

“No you’re not,” Robyn snorts. “You’re a cinnamon roll.”

“I’m not-”

Qrow leans over from the pilot’s seat as Clover and Robyn sit down next to the unconscious bodies of the soldiers. “You are, at least by our standards.”

“Traitor!”

Robyn barks a laugh. “You know, we’re all traitors by now.”

“That’s a fair point,” Clover concedes. “Actually, Ironwood might not know about me yet.”

“Lucky us,” Qrow deadpans, and Robyn groans. After four years of being on Team CHRY, she’s far past laughing at any luck jokes.

Finally, she leans over to Clover. “...So are you going to ask him?”

“No, I was thinking about waiting.”

“Adorable, but I think this is my revenge.”

“Your wha-”

Robyn stands up and taps Qrow on the shoulder. “Hey, Qrow, Clover wants to ask you something.”

“ROBYN, NO.”

“ROBYN, YES.”

[unholyhelbig]

Right, so we all need a part two...

[A/N: Part two, because a lot of people seem to like this one! You can read part one here, or on my AO3] 

The busted pipe dripped in a rhythmic motion. Itwas rusted around the edge, creating a small discolored puddle against thewood. Beca had tried fixing it more than once, and it always sprung through itsbinds. She had grown used to the sound and the scent of metal. It came with theterritory.

Shestretched along the back of the couch, the fire crackling almost drowned outthe water and the musty smell in the air, a book resting beneath herfingertips. She could taste the biting edge of the old pages, eyes scanningover ink that faded needlessly. She squinted at the words.

It was theCall of the Wild.

Beca hadwandered into the thrift store and the old woman behind the counter eitherdidn’t realize who she was or couldn’t tell through her thick bifocals. Sheprobably didn’t’ read the news, anyway, turning her awful hoarding habit into aprofitable business. Either way, Beca got a whole stack of books with darkenedspines for only twenty dollars, and she was slowly making her way through themwithout cause.

When itwas just her and her mother, they would go to the library, and she thinksthat’s where she learned how to appreciate print. She had registered for a cardand would sit in the back corner at one of the computers to fill out jobapplications. Beca would curl into a leather chair with cracked edges and thewarmest air and the brightest sun. Her mom would let her take home one book,and then it changed to two, sometimes even three.  

Right now,it was cold. Everything about where she lived was. She had gotten used to thefact that there weren’t any windows here- and the air always smelled thickly ofsalt and sea life. The way no one else would hire her and now she would liveout the rest of her days as a guard dog for a port with no ships in the night.She liked it this way- alone and desolate. The lull of crashing ocean wavespulled her into fitful sleep and seagulls would welcome her with a cup ofcoffee and a morning run on the black sand beaches before daybreak.

The wallsseeped when it rained like this.

Becareached over blindly and pulled a piece of cold pizza into her grasp. She hadbeen living off of it for a couple of days now, and no way in hell was sheheading back into town after the last reaction she got. It was easier to pop aslice in the microwave, even if the cheese had grown thick with sourness. Shechewed slowly and leaned into the book before pulling her blanket further overher knees.

She almostdidn’t’ hear the knock over the crash of the waves and the shattering of thethunder. Certainly, didn’t expect it, but her body stiffened, and she struggledto swallow the rest of the food that was against her lips. Was it a knock? There it is again, three more times yeah.Definitely a knock.  

The youngwoman peeled the blanket away from her suddenly sticky skin and walked acrossthe creaky floorboards that reminded her of a short story where an old man hadhis heart nailed underneath the parlor. It was a tale of guilt and deceit andshe remembered not being able to sleep for weeks afterward.

Beca couldalmost instantly taste the rain when she opened the door to the lighthouse. Itsoaked against her skin as the wind howled and the figure on her steps shifted,a raincoat around her bleedingly bright hair and contrasted eyes. Her lipswere blue too, from the cold. A thin line of blood moved against her cheek anddripped like diluted mud. She recognized her from the pizza shop. A pryingstranger.  

“Can Icome in?” She called over the howling rain.

“What?”

“I said,can I come in? It’s freezing out here. I’m going to catch my death!”

Becablinked wordlessly and stepped aside. The woman’s boots squished, and they wereleft in a muted silence when the door closed behind her. Chloe smelled likemuck and metal, and a lot like that pipe that was busted in the corner but inthe least offensive way possible. She hissed and shook out her cold hands.

“I’m sorryfor barging in. My car, it broke down and well… it’s like that outside.” Shegave a weak chuckle that was wracked in exhaustion. Beca just stared and Chloeforced an awkward smile. “You’re not very social, are you?”

“Forgiveme, but the last time anyone knocked on my door I was dragged away inhandcuffs.”

Chloenodded like she understood, but she probably didn’t’. Beca didn’t’ know if shewas trying to scare the woman away- but after the other night she was sureAubrey Posen had warned the new girl in town to stay away from her. The rumorshad bounced around, and the police reports were still easy enough to pull uponline- she figured maybe, just maybe, if she was brazened enough then Chloewould fall in line with the rest- alienating and gone to the world.

“I googledyou.”

“Whichbegs the question, why are you here?” Beca asked, scanning her up and down. Shewas doused in mud. “The police station is a block east. The storm shelter twoblocks west.”

“And thegrocery store North. I know, I know.” Chloe countered, sniffing back the cold.“You interest me. I’m intrigued.”

Becaleaned back on her heels and stared some more. She had done a bit of googlingherself, of course, it was harder. She logged into an old Facebook accountbefore clicking on Aubrey Posen’s smiling face, arm wrapped around her fatherthat she still called Daddy even though they weren’t in the South anymore. Fromthere- she found Chloe. Chloe Beale- reporter. It figures she couldn’t helpputting her nose where it didn’t belong.

“Youshould sit by the fire, warm up before you reallydo catch your death. I’ll find you some dry clothes.”

Chloedidn’t’ seem to hesitate before walking close to the mantle and stretching herfingers out. Beca moved towards the iron steps, the second floor not muchhigher than the first. When she returned with a pair of grey sweat pants and anoversized t-shirt with a design of a palm tree on it, she found Chloe squintingat the pages of the book that was left on the coffee table.

“He was akiller, a thing that preyed, living on the things that lived, unaided, alone,by virtue of his own strength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a hostileenvironment where only the strong survive.” Chloe read aloud, hearing the creakof the floorboards as Beca stopped on the last step.

“Is thatsupposed to be ironic?” Beca asked a wolfish and amused grin. Chloe was toyingwith her, setting the book back down as she took the clothes that were offeredto her. She ran her fingers over the faded design on the t-shirt.

“No, notironic. Not to you, anyway.”

Becasnorted before lifting her chin towards the hallway with the bathroom. Shetrusted Chloe to find it on her own. If she opened the door to the coat closetinstead, she had a feeling the young journalist would snoop around- but somehowit didn’t’ bother her as much as it should. It would bother anyone, shereasoned with herself, but somehow this inept display of human interaction hadher mind swimming and clouded.

Becaglared at the pages of the book when she flopped back down on the leather sofaand listened to the howling wind outside. She remembered reading this for highschool- creating a diorama of the forest. It was mainly poorly sculpted clayand figurines that she found at a craft store. Minimal effort compared to thestudents that had their parents construct it for them.

Her motherand stepfather believed that if she really put her mind to it, she didn’t needtheir help. Of course, they taught her how to drive, how to file her taxes whenshe started her first job as a cashier at an ice cream shop. How to fix a flatand change a head gasket without going to a mechanic. Beca wondered if thoseparents who completed their kids’ projects did that, or if they would just payto have it done in an air of panic.

Chloelooked scruffy and less put together in her clothes. She was hugging herselfcloser as she stood in the light of the fire. She had wiped away most of themud and the gash at her hairline didn’t look so bad anymore, a simple blemishcompared to the among of blood that dripped from it. Beca would beg thequestion that she looked like a lost puppy. Chloe would frown at her and flopdown at the other end of the couch, shivering at the burst of heat.

“Does itget lonely? You know… up here all the time. No one to talk to.”

Becafrowned and glanced over at the woman. She wasn’t staring her way, instead, shewas sadly gazing at the flames eating away at the log. “You know, most peoplejust say thank you. Besides, I have a fish.”

Shedidn’t’ want to admit it, but she talked to the fish more than he listened. Hisblue fins would splay through the water and he would follow her finger if shedragged it against the glass. Going to the pet store was always a challenge,but she accepted it because it meant his well being was kept level. She let outa sigh and shifted against her edge of the couch, moving her arm against theback.

“Look,even if I wanted to leave this place for more than twenty minutes, you saw theway the town acted. I’m a pariah. It’s easier if I stay up here.”

“For who?”

“Foreveryone!” Beca huffed, deep blue orbs flashing towards her. “There is not oneperson in this town that believes that I’m innocent, alright? No one that I’mallowed to talk to anyway. To everyone here, I am a killer, and it’s better tolet them think that.”

Becaremembered the jury, and the feeling of instant relief she got when they saidshe wasn’t innocent on all accounts. The heat of the courtroom was stiflingbut an instant cool washed over her bones. A metal fan was whirring in thecorner and Aubrey Posen distinctly slammed her hand down on the table in frontof her- but that didn’t’ stop the feeling of joy that was with her. The way herown lawyer pulled her in for an undeniable and well-deserved embrace.

“Theyproved you innocent.”

“Yeah,they did.”

She staredevenly at the flames, the way they ate away at the logs and hollowed them out untilnothing, but undeniable heat remained. Beca had a panic attack the first timeshe had started it. But there was no heat up here and the winters were grueling.Snow would cap the rocks and shattered ice would collect at the base of the cliffs.Chloe very much could have caught her death.

“Peoplewant a villain.” Beca sounded out after a silence. “They want someone who isevil inside and out because that is way easier than believing in coincidence. Thinkingthat accidents do happen and there is no ulterior motive.”

“And you’reokay just… being that? Being the person that everyone hates?”

Becapursed her lips and curled her fingers into the couch. At first, no, she wasn’t.She would feel that cold pain that crept into her chest and made her sob into apillow in a nasty hotel room that smelled of urine and smoke. But now it wasnearly peaceful. That is until Chloe showed up looking like a drowned rat. An irresponsibledrowned rat.

“You can’tbe.”

Becaswallowed thickly. “And so, what if I’m not? That shouldn’t be any of your concern.You don’t even know me.”

“I don’tthink anyone does.” Chloe’s voice hadgotten a bit louder, and she sounded like she was struggling to talk. Maybe itwas her frozen vocal cords or the way she tucked her feet under herself as sheturned to face Beca. “I read all the headlines, and I heard everything thatAubrey had to say. But none of that makes sense to me.”

“What’snot to get, Chloe? I’m just someone who wants to be left alone.”

“That’snot true.” She sniffed, cold, maybe “No one wants to be alone. Not forever.”  

[prcttyhopcless]

Barchie Halloween Prompt’s || Number 24 - Zombie Apocalypse 

In true Archie Andrews fashion, it takes the end of the world for him to realize that he may be in love with Betty Cooper. When the virus first broke out no one in Riverdale was really all that concerned about things, they were such a small town they figured they had months to wait before they really had to worry about Zombie’s taking over or the virus reaching them but in reality it was only weeks. The Lodges were the first to leave, and back then Archie wished he missed Veronica more than he did, but when her dad had torn her from the town and they had all vanished it was like a whole weight had been lifted form his shoulders. Archie knew that the Mantle’s had gotten out and he was thrilled with that, he wasn’t too sure where Reggie was, but he liked to think that his friend was safe and well. If he was going to be absolutely honest with himself, the very first person that came to mind when they heard news of things getting close was Betty, and she was just about the only person other than his dad he cared about. Polly was away at the farm and Alice was spending more time on the Southside than in her own home, so much so Archie couldn’t help but worry about her. He and his dad were prepared to go at a moment’s notice, the truck was loaded up with supplies and he was surprised at how ready his dad seemed for all of this, but there was no way he could leave town without knowing that Betty Cooper was safe.

It turned out he didn’t have to in the end, because Betty is in the truck at the side of him when they make their run for it, Fred driving the two scared teens to safety. Betty wept against his chest, and he couldn’t stop his own eyes as they welled up either. Jughead was gone, along with FP. The thought alone terrified Archie because if they couldn’t survive, the rest of the world was screwed. It wasn’t that they weren’t prepared, when the virus reached town and people began to turn in a matter of hours it was the Serpents that had allowed so many people to escape, and more than half of them were killed as they took on the arrivals. Archie found it more than a little ironic that the people the town loved to hate so much were the ones that ended up giving their lives to save people. Alice wouldn’t leave FP’s side as things got bad, and Betty hadn’t wanted to leave her mother but Archie and Fred had just about managed to pull her into the truck as they left Riverdale. Fred had wanted to leave with just his son in tow, but he had refused to leave with at least trying to find Betty first, and the two of them had ended up on the Southside along with everyone else, Betty’s blonde hair catching his eye just in time for him to get her out. Archie knew for a while Betty would hate him, but he could only hope she would forgive him when she had had time to mourn everything she had lost. 

The Zombies weren’t like people were expecting, they were fast and dangerous and they hunted in packs, Archie didn’t think he was going to dream about anything else but the sounds that they made for a very long time.

For a few months they had stuck with Fred, making their way to what everyone was calling Haven somewhere in Pennsylvania, Betty was skeptical that such a place could really exist but Archie had hope and for now she was living with that. If she tried hard enough, if she really tried, when she was asleep in the back of the truck, Archie and his dad camped out by the fire, she could pretend that the world wasn’t ending, it was almost like their old camping trips, and when they were done they would pack up and go home. But home was gone, her mom was gone, Jughead was gone, there was simply death in every area they came across, and for as far as they could see. Their journey wasn’t easy, roads were blocked, whole towns were infested, there had been far too many close calls with one of them nearly not making it, but somehow, they were surviving. Betty was amazing, or so at least Archie thought so, she had adapted to life on the move with alarming ease. Gun on her shoulder, knife strapped to her thigh, with her blonde hair more often than not matted with dirt and muck Archie wasn’t so sure she had ever looked more beautiful – the apocalypse suited her.  

Fred had noticed pretty soon the way Archie looked at Betty, and it comforted him, it was something he and his friends had spoken of for years before all of this had happened, whilst their children had been growing up and still so innocent, the possibility of Archie and Betty falling in love. Knowing something so pure as love could still happen even when everything else was crumbling down was a comfort he needed. He’d tried to speak to Archie about it on more than one occasion, but every time he did his son would either turn pink or shut him down, mumbling something about Betty not being over Jughead, or that he was just imagining things. But Fred knew, he could only hope that they would too one day.

Betty was probably the only one who wasn’t, in some form, aware of the way that Archie looked at her, because she refused to be that girl. She didn’t care if the world was ending, if they spent their day’s dodging Zombie’s and sometimes camped together simply so they didn’t freeze, she wouldn’t be a last resort for Archie Andrews. If he didn’t love her before the world ended then he didn’t get her now either. Besides she had bigger things to worry about now, where their next meal would come from, why Archie or his dad had been gone to long – was everyone she loved back home dead? Or worse were they zombies now. It isn’t like she hasn’t thought about him though, it would be impossible not to, he’s half of her whole world now along with Fred, and she’s never really realized how deadly he can be until this moment which is ironic considering they’ve faced a serial killer together. Betty was glad that it was Archie she was facing all of this with though. It would have been great, if they could all be together, and she missed Jughead, but she was glad it was Archie she was facing the end of the world with and she didn’t know why. There was just something about him that felt like hope, and home and he was her comfort whenever things felt really bad, which didn’t happen until they lost Fred.

To this very moment, that had been their hardest day, and when the sun went down and they tried to rest for five minutes it still plagued the teens thought’s. In their guts they had both known it was going to happen. Fred had broken his leg when they had been out gathering food and he had managed to fall through a floor in an old warehouse that looked like it had been given up on long before the apocalypse had started. It had seemed like the perfect hide out for a while, it was remote and it didn’t scream ‘come and loot me’ because there was nothing of real value there for a while, but it had turned out to be their demise. This time it had been Betty’s turn to drag Archie into the truck, she didn’t want to leave Fred behind as much as he hadn’t but whatever was coming for them was coming fast and they didn’t have time to get themselves and Fred in the truck. From then on it had been just the two of them. It had been her turn to hold him whilst he cried, for her to be strong until slowly, he had cried a little less each day and they had gotten back onto the road, moving as much as they could each day. Betty had lost count of how long that had been now.

Most of the time they spoke about their childhood, or about the people back home they missed, anything to keep the mood up whilst it was quiet and they waited to fall asleep, which never took really long they were so hungry and worn out a lot. They would lay out and watch the stars if they could, just like they had when they were kids but when they were in new area’s they often found somewhere to camp out for the night where they were covered and had plenty of exits.

“Arch…” Betty whispered as she rolled over and looked at him, that was one thing Archie was grateful hadn’t changed, they had both lost their parents, and their whole worlds, but she still called him Arch. “I think it’s your birthday soon.” She smiled gently across at him, they had lost their calendar a while back, and days were blurred so much now with the two of them having to sleep as and when they could, so she had no real idea when it was, but by her guessing it was soon. “You’re going to be 18.” Archie gave a small laugh and nodded, it wasn’t much to celebrate anymore, he had been an adult for months now, and this wasn’t where he had seen himself on the day that he turned 18.

Rolling over the red headed male smile in her direction, it was crazy to think she was the only part of his life he had left, would he have felt this okay with it all had it been Veronica laid out next to him in the abandoned barn they had managed to find. “I guess you’re right.” He whispered, a frown appearing on his face.

“Do you remember the promise I made you? When you turned 18?” Archie asked quietly.

“Of course I do, you said that you would ask me to marry you. How trivial now huh?” Betty mumbled, she wanted nothing more than to roll over and break the gaze between the two of them but that would be too obvious now.

“I don’t think so. I mean it’s just me and you now -”

“Archie…”

“No Betty…” The male was cut off as Betty pulled herself up from the ground, grabbing her jacket and gun before she stormed outside into the open, Archie staring at her with a hung jaw before he scrambled after her himself. “Are you crazy?! Betty its dark get inside!” He spluttered as he reached for her arms, trying to keep his voice down, there was no way of knowing who or what was around without being able to see anything.

“I’m not coming in unless you promise to stop talking!” She knew that she was being childish, and that she needed to get her shit together, but she was also stubborn and she had no intention of letting him continue whatever it was he was saying.

“What? What was wrong with what I was saying?” Archie countered, trying not to let the hurt in his voice show.

“Everything Arch…please stop or I’m not coming back in with you.”

“So you would rather die than hear how I feel about you?”

“Yes Arch, because it would still hurt less.” Betty answered, her face a picture of vulnerability that she hadn’t worn in a long time.

“I don’t…why?” Archie pleaded as he took a step towards her which she matched with another one back.

“You can’t love me now, you can’t love me just because the world is ending and I’m your only option.” She explained as a tear spilled over onto her cheek. Archie could only stare on, as his gun fell to his side, wondering how the hell she could think so little of herself, even now when she was just about the only thing that had kept him alive.

“Betty, I don’t love you because you’re the last option.” The male breathed out as he looked at her, he should have known she would find a way to think less of herself, she always did and he only wished he could make her see herself the way that he did. Everything about her was perfect, her heart, her resilience, the way she moved when she was on the hunt, the way he watched her strip apart her gun to make sure it worked and then switch to reading a new book they had found to keep her mind engaged on something, she was as brilliant as she was beautiful.

“You’re just saying that, you have to say that but be honest, if you could choose if you had Veronica here or me, you’d choose her.” She could take on a zombie with super human strength and she still felt insignificant stood here in front of Archie Andrews like she had that day on the porch. “I won’t be the second choice forever.”

“Betty I haven’t thought about Veronica in…months, I have no idea where she is, if she’s even still alive, she was gone long before we even left Riverdale, but even if she was still alive, if she was stood right here, and I had to make the choice, I would pick you. I loved you when we were 4, and you gave me your ice cream because I cut my knee, and when we were eight, and you comforted me, even though I was the one that had made you cry hitting you with my football, I loved you when we stood in that dance hall and you called us a power couple, I loved you when you stood on that porch, when you loved Jughead, when I climbed into that coffin to make sure nothing would happen to you, I have always loved you and I may have the worst timing in the world at figuring that out – but I don’t love you because you’re the only person left, I love you because you’re the only person I need.”  Archie was aware he probably sounded like he had just been hit over the head and he’d lost his mind, and somehow she was crying more now than when he had started, so he didn’t know how he was supposed to fix this. “Please Betty…” Archie sighed but he was cut off as she closed the space between them, rising on her toes to press her lips to his, startling him for just a second before he wound his arms around her waist, keeping her close as he returned her kiss with more force than she had started it.

As she pulled back she stared up at him for a moment, her blue eyes wide and her lips still parted ever so slightly as she tried to find the words to say to him. “Was that I love you too?” Archie asked her, his smile growing just a smidgen as he stood with his arms still wound around Betty’s waist.

“Archie you were my entire world before I even knew what love was, and now you’re literally the only person on this planet I care about…If you let anything happen to you, I swear to god.” She sighed as she rested her forehead with his, her own smile growing to match her own. “Yes, I love you too.” She whispered up to him, reaching to press another slow kiss to his lips. Neither of them had any clue how much longer they could make it out here on their own, and they had no idea if they were ever going to find Haven, but for now, they could be Haven for each other, Zombie’s be dammed, Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper were an inevitable love, all they had to do now, was fight to make sure that they lasted long enough it could survive. 

[henshinhistory]

A retrospective on The Skull Man (2007)

...now that Henshin History’s coverage of it is complete.

Van here! I don’t know if I’ll do this for every series we cover, but! I wanted to sit down one last time and try and piece the plot together, given how disjointed the anime ended up being.

Because, seriously: Who is Tatsuo Kagura?

Tatsuo Kagura in the 1970 manga was an amoral, gleeful killer. In the 1998 followup, he’s a more pentient antihero (though still an arrogant brat). In the 2007 anime reboot, he’s gone. Tatsuo’s face and his deeds from the original manga play through the opening animation; a blink-and-you-miss-it flashback shows a young boy with a concealed face escaping the destruction of his home — and that’s it, your only on-screen confirmation that Tatsuo ever really existed. At the very end, Maya calls out for her brother, but at that point, both Maya and the man she’s calling to are so distorted and confused that you can’t trust what either of them are saying.

Yet Tatsuo’s presence haunts the show. The city officials either scoff at the legends of his ghost, or they fear his reprisal. The head of Ootomo Pharmaceuticals, Gozo Kuroshio, uses Tatsuo’s legacy as a cover for his hired assassin.  The foundations of Ootomo City are built on the Kagura family’s works — literally. Various buildings and business bear the Kagura name, or they used to. The cult that has Ootomo City in its grip originates from an artifact that Tatsuo’s father, Tatsuyuki Kagura unearthed; the Gagou, the monster-forms that the cultists take, all originate from the skull mask.

(It might have been Ootomo’s treachery that turned Tatsuo into the original Skull Man and inspired his desire for revenge, but it was the Skull’s power that turned Ootomo into what it is.)

So where did that little boy go?

The anime starts out with this mystery: Who is the Skull Man, if he’s not Tatsuo? And in that case, where is Tatsuo Kagura?

The show eventually answers the first question (discarding candidates like Masaki, Akira, Jin, even Tatsuo’s actual ghost) with Father Yoshio Kanzaki, a priest traumatized by his experiences as a wartime chaplain. This reveal comes with… very little fanfare, almost overshadowed by the military coup and the introduction of Van Vogt and his killer clownbots.

As for the second question…

Maya’s stepfather Gozo tells her that “Tatsuo died when you were very young [...] he’s not your brother anymore.” This tells us nothing — Gozo is either lying or mistaken about the former, and as for the latter, Gozo thinks the Skull Man is his illegitimate son. Maya is becoming more detached from reality at this point, and Gozo may just be trying to gently bring her back to earth.

Akira Usami claims for a hot second that he is Tatsuo Kagura, but (I suspect) Akira has been driven mad by the Voice of God (something that ends up a bit glossed over, but it appears to be an audio waveform based on the sound created by the White Bell pendants, which is beyond human hearing and affects the minds of people who have been turned into Gagou). Akira also dies basically immediately.

The boy in the flashback was taken in by a priest, who was Kanzaki’s predecessor at the church. Kanzaki was raised in the church orphanage and given guardianship of the Skull mask by his predecessor, and took up the mask to kill the Gagou created by the White Bell cult. He also has a close friendship with Maya. So, obvious, right?

Except there’s Hayato. Hayato’s memories are inexplicably blurry, but he was also raised in the church orphanage. From the eavesdropped conversation, Hayato’s adopted father was also working for the pharmaceutical company, and also secretly assassinated… just like Tatsuyuki. Gozo goes out of his way to protect Hayato, and — looking back… why is Hayato so obsessed with the Skull Man legend, really? The other two people who appeared to be seeking the legend (Kiriko and Tachigi) both had additional agendas; could Hayato have subconscious reasons of his own?

(And if Hayato is not an amnesiac Tatsuo, then why is he amnesiac at all?)

And there’s the Skull itself. The Skull has a will and personality of its own — the moment Hayato takes up the mantle, he begins to experience flashbacks and memories that don’t belong to him, and to say things that an illiterate thug like Hayato Mikogami would never say. The Skull has an iron grip on its wielders — Kanzaki wanted the curse to die with him, but how much of that was Kanzaki wanting to bear this burden so nobody else would have to, or because the Skull wouldn’t let Kanzaki be free?

Could Tatsuo have been consumed by the Skull, several years ago, and his ghost is now haunting the mask and its wielders?

The show gives no definite answer.

Our problem with the show is not that it doesn’t have an answer. Our problem is that it shoots for subtlety — and misses the mark completely and lands right in “completely obtuse.” The anime cuts abruptly from scene to scene, setting up the city politics and the behind-the-curtain scheming and some truly baffling alternate-history details, while the main characters and their own development fall by the wayside.

You’re expected to be able to follow multiple different threads running at once, yet you rarely get solid introductions for half the cast — people aren’t clearly namedropped, several male characters look like each other to set them up as candidates for Skull Man’s alter ego. You aren’t allowed to get a sense of knowing who the major players are.

The most prominent villain of the show, the one who gets the big might-makes-right speech and turns into the big muscle monsterman at the end? We never know for sure what his deal is. On my first watch, I barely knew who he was even into the final episode. Was Masaki legit once, and learning about the Skull’s power seduced him into evil? Did his resentment over being the unrecognized son turn him against Gozo, and his involvement with the military was meant to ruin Ootomo City and topple Gozo’s house of cards? The answer is, “Yes, probably — but the show refuses to connect these dots.”

Then the show makes the jarring transition from “supernatural murder mystery” into “military political thriller” in the last quarter, leaving the initial overarching mysteries in the dust. It falls into the trap of using cameos as prominent characters: Suddenly, the references overtake the work, and if you don’t pick up on every easter egg, good luck trying to follow what’s going on. And it’s not even that easy to follow even if you do recognize these characters! You really should not need to watch a show frame-by-frame to get any understanding of its basic plot.

The thing is: The show could have made all of these elements work. Its failing was trying to pack all of them into a 13-episode-long can of sardines. Hayato’s downfall, and his alienation from Kiriko and Shinjou, doesn’t hit as hard as it ought to, because everything is so incredibly rushed. Part of the reason I flipped my lid over the Akira Usami episodes was because, if given enough space to breathe, they could have been fantastic at foreshadowing the events of the finale and drip-feeding more hints about Tatsuo Kagura’s true fate. Instead, once Akira was killed, all you got was a sense of wasted time.  

And there’s more things that could have been fixed, like Kiriko’s characterization. Kiriko’s history as a resistance member could have been interesting — if only it ever came up in any capacity whatsoever aside from as leverage to use against her brother Jin.

And Kiriko’s status as Joe’s mother is… just silly? And super gross because she’s so young? If you really needed a cameo, a better reveal would have been for one of the younger church orphans, perhaps a little boy who always lurked in the background and revealed at the epilogue to be tiny kiddo Joe. Or if he has to be Hayato’s son, how about have Nami survive and escape the city? Anyway...

The question, “Who is Tatsuo Kagura?” goes unanswered, because the show’s intent was for his fate to remain murky.

Unfortunately, the rest of the story is just as opaque.

[ramajmedia]

Who Is Black Knight? Kit Harington's MCU Character Explained

Kit Harington will make his MCU debut as the Black Knight in Marvel's Eternals, which releases on November 6, 2020. In the comics, Black Knight has hardly been an A-list superhero; although he's served as a member of the Avengers, he's never had the same kind of prominence as the likes of Iron Man and Captain America. For all that's the case, though, Black Knight is shaping up to be key to the MCU's future.

The first Black Knight was created by Stan Lee and Joe Maneely back in 1955, and was published by Atlas Comics, the company that eventually became Marvel. These early adventures were set in the days of King Arthur. Decades later, Marvel Comics recognized the concept's potential. They incorporated a modern version of the Black Knight into the present day - and that character, Dane Whitman, is the one who's been absorbed into the MCU.

Related: What Are The Eternals? Marvel’s New Cosmic Movie Team Explained

The Marvel Cinematic Universe has embraced magic and the supernatural since 2016's Doctor Strange, but the Black Knight brings an Arthurian element that's not been seen before. Here's everything you need to know about Marvel's ultimate sword-and-sorcery hero.

A scientist swept into a world of romantic adventure and mysticism, Dane Whitman is heir to a legacy that stretches back to the days of King Arthur. The first Black Knight, Sir Percy of Scandia, was a champion who had been chosen by Merlin himself. Merlin gave Sir Percy a gift, an enchanted blade forged from a meteorite, and Sir Percy used it in Camelot's defense. Unfortunately, the so-called Ebony Blade acquired a terrible curse because of all the blood Sir Percy shed with it. After Sir Percy's untimely death at the hands of Mordred, the Ebony Blade passed down his line through the generations.

Dane Whitman first learned of the Ebony Blade when he was summoned to his ancestral home, Garrett Castle, by his uncle Nathan Garrett. To Dane's surprise, his uncle confessed that he was secretly the supervillain who called himself the Black Knight, and that he'd pursued a life of crime to spite his ancestor. The dying Garrett charged Dane to adopt the mantle in his honor, and to attempt to redeem the name of the Black Knight. Taking up the Ebony Blade, Dane Whitman did just that, soon proving himself to be a capable ally - and ultimately member - of the Avengers.

Dane Whitman is an ordinary human being, albeit a brilliant physicist. His weapon of choice is the Ebony Blade, an apparently indestructible enchanted sword that can cut through any substance and disrupt energy fields due to its mystical properties. Unfortunately, long-term use of the Ebony Blade has a negative effect of the mental stability of the wearer, a result of the blood curse. The Ebony Blade's malevolent influence is strengthened by the shedding of blood, for which it has an insatiable appetite; at one time it actually turned even the noble Dane Whitman into a serial killer.

Related: Every Marvel Phase 5 Movie Confirmed To Be In Development

Whitman's Black Knight is known for wielding certain other mystic weapons as well, notably the Sword of Light and the Shield of Night. These were gifts from the Lady of the Lake, and are enchanted to act in concert; the shield can absorb energy directed at it and the sword can be used to project said energy as destructive beams. In the '90s the Black Knight briefly chose to ditch magic and use a laser sword that Whitman had developed himself instead.

As the heir to Sir Percy's legacy, Dane Whitman sometimes has help from an unexpected source; the ghost of Sir Percy of Scandia, who acts as an adviser to all those who carry the mantle of Black Knight. There have also been times when the Black Knight has rode a magical winged horse, akin to those used by the Valkyries.

Dane Whitman actually became leader of one incarnation of the Avengers, and it was while there that he wound up in a slightly confused romantic relationship with the Eternal named Sersi. The Eternals suffer from a mental condition referred to as the Mahd Wy'ry; a result of their immortality, their still-human minds break down under the strain of their almost limitless knowledge. Sersi began to suffer from the Mahd Wy'ry, and in order to save her, the Eternals bonded her psyche with the Black Knight's. Dane was unwilling to become bonded to Sersi this way and resented it, but he was far too chivalrous to openly object.

Unfortunately, the result was a very strange, confused romance that ran over the course of the next few years. Making matters worse, Sersi developed the ability to traverse dimensions, and soon Black Knight and Sersi were exploring the Multiverse together. The bond was eventually broken, but many of the Black Knight's most important stories feature Sersi as a love interest.

Related: Every Upcoming Marvel Cinematic Universe Movie

Kit Harington has been cast as the MCU's Black Knight, and the actor is certainly no stranger to the sword-and-sorcery genre; he's best known for his performance as Jon Snow in Game of Thrones, a role for which he's received significant acclaim and even two Emmy nominations. There's a sense in which Marvel is casting to type, but Black Knight offers a lot of variance from the put-upon Bastard of Winterfell.

Marvel's long toyed with introducing the character of the Black Knight. In fact, their prop team designed the Ebony Blade for 2016's Doctor Strange, where it was intended to be one of the relics kept at Kamar-Taj. In the end, they didn't use it, perhaps because Marvel Studios decided they'd want to introduce the Black Knight himself sooner or later. Kit Harington's Black Knight will make his MCU debut in Marvel's Eternals in 2020, reuniting with Game of Thrones co-star Richard Madden, who plays the Eternal named Ikaris. The casting choice was announced with great fanfare at D23, seeming to suggest that the Black Knight has a future as an MCU brand of his own. Given the MCU looks set to go Multiversal in Phase 4, it makes sense for Marvel to introduce a hero known for traveling through both time and space.

More: Marvel's Eternals: Every Update You Need To Know

source https://screenrant.com/black-knight-explained-kit-harington-marvel-comics-origin-powers/