#The Archer of Beast Woods

[random-bookquotes]

Observe the opponent first, surprise them, and exterminate them without allowing them to make use of their strengths. All this was part of a warrior’s battle tactics.

Kanata Yanagino, The Faraway Paladin: Volume 2: The Archer of Beast Woods

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Don’t Chase the Dead

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth Era post 11x24

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: You and Daryl find yourselves in a battle for survival after the archer leads you into danger in a attempt to absolve him of his guilt.

Prompt: "Being in love is not a weakness, you know"

A/N: You can find the request from @alldevilsarehere90 here. Finally finished this beast! It really got away from me and I ended up moving all sorts of things around before I was even remotely happy with it. I’m sorry it took so long!

PSA: I think I should let it be known that (if you haven’t noticed) I really like to beat up on our boy. There’s just something about an injured Daryl that I love. Probably won’t veer from that anytime soon.

*gif is not mine

They were all dead. Every last one of the men that had murdered a young boy from the Commonwealth. Only you and Daryl were left standing. 

Metaphorically speaking. 

You stared at an arrow from the enemy’s quiver, inspecting it before letting it fall to the ground. 

“Ya know—whatcha gotta—do, Y/N.” 

You were already shaking your head before the first word had left Daryl’s bloody lips. The arrowhead in his left thigh was barbed. If you tried to pull it out, it would mercilessly tear through muscle and flesh, doing much more damage and leaving a wound that would bleed freely while requiring more than stitches. The one pull Daryl had given it was enough to put him on his ass. He was right, and that made you feel nauseous. 

“I don’t know if I can.” Your bottom lip quivered. Tears fell unchecked. Your own upper arm ached but the bullet had only managed a decent graze. “What if it hit an artery? What if I make it hit an artery?”

Daryl’s eyes scanned the area around you, always on guard. The man who had shot him had been dealt with quickly, the last of the enemies to have fallen by a bullet you fired. The shots would attract walkers. 

“Do you think you can walk if you lean on me?” You asked. Your voice raised slightly with a hint of hope. “We can get you back to the Commonwealth, to the hospital.”

“Y/N.” The archer was calm, tired. He laid his head back against the wall, looking down his nose at you. “Y’know I—l can’t.”

You cursed under your breath, staring at the protruding wooden shaft. Once again, he was right. Even if you bound the wound to the best of your ability, the likelihood of it shifting and tearing inside was tremendous. “Okay. We have to be fast. We can’t stay here much longer.” You undid your belt and looked around you for a safe place for when things inevitably went south. Pessimism or just simply acknowledging Dixon luck, it didn’t matter. There was a maintenance shed, door open. The probability of walkers inside was slim but not none. It’d do in a pinch though. 

Your flannel shirt would be used as a bandage after, so you peeled it off and tore off the sleeves, biting and pulling at the rest of it to form it into strips. “Can you turn onto your right side just a little?” You asked while wrapping a piece of the fabric around your arm. You used your teeth to aid in tying it off. 

Daryl nodded tiredly and angled himself onto his right hip. He could probably do this himself, honestly, but you were there and had a better view of the injury. Your biggest worry was the wood splintering or snapping, leaving the arrowhead inside. 

Using your knife, you cut the fabric around the point of entry as carefully as possible. It’s still oozing blood but nothing like it will be once the weapon is removed. Chewing on your lip, you go back to cutting, this time at the back of his thigh. Worry is gnawing at you relentlessly, your insides twisting. 

“I could break the shaft, make it easier for you to move. I think we could make it—”

“Gotta break—gotta break it anyway.” To emphasize his point, he leaned forward and wrapped a trembling hand around where the weapon entered his flesh. With what looked like the tiniest bit of effort and a pained grunt, he snapped the arrow and tossed the end somewhere in the darkness. His back thudded against the wall. “Just do it—or I’ll do it an’ ya can—head on back. I‘ll catch up.”

“I’m not leaving you! No way!” You snap. Daryl wasn’t thinking clearly. That much was obvious. Either from blood loss, exhaustion, or the guilt eating him up at the loss of that boy. Maybe all of the above. He hadn’t slept since he’d had to put down the reanimated corpse. He was supposed to be with the kid. He had promised to show him how to track and hunt. The archer had been called away to help elsewhere and the kid had angrily left the safety of the community. No one blamed Daryl except Daryl. 

Still, no one could ever make Daryl feel worse than he could himself, and you could do nothing without his compliance. 

“Fine.” You leaned toward him and held out your belt. “Bite down on this.” When he raised an eyebrow behind his curtain of hair, you sighed. “It’s gonna hurt, Daryl. There are probably already walkers and god knows what else headed for us. I’d rather not let them know exactly where we are.” His lip curled in distaste but opened his mouth and let you place the strap between his teeth. That man could be so stupidly stubborn sometimes. 

Your hand hovered over the arrow’s broken shaft. You knew there was no time to waste. You started counting down from three, more for yourself than him, and wrapped your hand around the arrow. Judging by how he remained silent, he knew that. When you hit one, you tightened your grip and pushed. Daryl went rigid, agonized sounds rushing out around the belt held so tightly between his teeth. 

You honestly hadn’t expected so much resistance, quick to conclude you must have been grazing the bone. “I know, I know,” you tried to soothe as you adjusted the angle. Daryl arched off the wall with a muffled shout. The arrow began to move again, soon breaking through the skin on the other side. You released a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as the archer went boneless, the belt falling from his mouth so he could breathe through the pain with heavy pants. “The worst is over.” Flesh dangled from the barbs but it exited rather cleanly, and you were able to grab beneath the tip and pull it free. “Done. It’s out.” 

You’d have to stop and stitch him up once you were both a safe distance away. A piece of flannel was folded into a square and pressed over the back of his leg, quickly soaking through. With a muttered “shit,” you replaced it with another and one more on top of that one before managing to tie what used to be a sleeve around it. Just as you pulled it tight, you heard a branch snap and an all too familiar (yet no less terrifying) snarl. You had to bandage the top wound quickly and get the both of you out. “Hold this here.” You instructed when you pressed a square to the top of his thigh. Daryl didn’t move. “Daryl?” Maintaining pressure, you leaned forward to see his face. He had passed out. “Fuck!” 

Another growl. More shuffling steps. 

You hurried through wrapping the second one and shouldered your pack, leaning forward to urgently tap the archer’s cheek. “Daryl, wake up. Daryl!” He stirred but didn’t open his eyes. “We have to go. Now!” You stood when he still didn’t respond, wiping your bloody hands on your jeans. Looked like you’d be needing that maintenance shed after all. 

You could see them now, the group of undead bodies making their way toward you, their silhouettes barely visible in the moonlight. You gave a frustrated huff and moved up toward the wall, struggling to heave your archer into a sitting position so you could hook your hands under his arms. Daryl was a stout man, all lean muscle under his layers. Dragging him would not be an easy feat. 

“Anytime you wanna wake up and help, that’d be great!” You pulled and pulled, finally managing a few feet before the first walker was just too close. You had no options other than your gun. The shot was fired and the gun holstered just as quickly then you were back to dragging your partner. “If we make it through this, I’m going to kill you!” As if hearing your threat, Daryl groaned. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Too many undead were lumbering toward you. “Are you with me?”

“Y/N?” The archer questioned groggily. 

“None other!” You grunted. His good leg kicked out to dislodge a walker from his boot, nearly throwing you off balance. “Welcome back to the land of the…somewhat living.” Some of his weight shifted away as he got his good leg up under him, using your hold under his arms to lever himself upright. “We’ve got to get to the shed. You’re still bleeding and—” 

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You were pulled back and Daryl went down, unable to take his own weight so suddenly on the injured limb. Two walkers had grabbed hold of your pack, the only thing standing between you and grizzly death. And now there was nothing standing between Daryl and the same fate. You watched helplessly as you struggled against the rotted hands trying to get to your flesh. He had pulled his knife, making it upright to stab one skull before he’d tumble down, catch his breath, and do it again. 

“Y/N!”

With fierce determination, you pulled your own blade from the sheath on your thigh and slid your arms from the straps holding the bag to your back. One walker stumbled with the pack while the other grabbed your arm. You only let it get close enough to drive the knife into its temple. “Daryl!” Three walkers were closing in on him fast. 

“Y/N, get outta here!”

He couldn’t have possibly thought that was going to work. The corpse on your pack grabbed for your ankle but you kicked free and sprinted to Daryl, rounding in front of him to push one threat back and quickly stab it. You turned just in time for a walker’s teeth to close roughly with an audible click about two inches from your face. The shock lasted a mere heartbeat. You stabbed it in the eye and Daryl released his hold on the back of its tattered shirt. The archer tumbled forward gracelessly and you managed to catch him under one arm to keep him standing.

“I told ya to run!” He snapped. 

“The shed! Let’s move!” You ignored him and pulled him along with you. He was barely keeping up, stumbling to keep as much weight off the injured leg as he could manage. 

Walkers were coming from every side. You weren’t sure you’d make it before they reached you. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Two were almost in front of the door. If they cut you off now, even a flawless dispatching would cost your window of opportunity to secure relative safety. 

The arm around Daryl’s waist tightened and you pulled him harder, nearly causing him to lose what little balance he was trying so hard to maintain. 

“Y/N.” He growled in a low, warning tone. 

You discarded the knife and pulled your gun to put a bullet in the forehead of the walker closest to the door. It was a close call but you managed to get you both to the entrance. There was no time for tenderness. You used your momentum to twist your body and practically throw the bowman into the darkness, hearing him crash into something inside that obviously tumbled down when he made contact. You continued the motion, spinning to back into the shed while pulling the door closed. You screamed in frustration when a rotted arm came through the last remaining space and prevented the latch from securing. 

You couldn’t take either hand away from the door, your weight being the only thing keeping the creature out. Within moments, more would join it and you would be overpowered. You released an angry howl and grabbed the handle, opening the door outward only to slam it closed on the decomposing limb. Once, twice. It took stepping forward into danger and throwing yourself nearly off your feet to snap off the arm and allow the door to close. 

There was no lock. You couldn’t see your hand right in front of your face. You couldn’t barricade the door when you couldn’t make out what objects were around you. It would have to wait. Regardless, you flinched when the sound of bodies hitting the outside of the shed rang through the small space. Switching gears in an instant, you replaced one fear with another. Daryl hadn’t made a sound since you had sent him sailing gracelessly into the unknown. 

“Daryl?” You kept your voice at a whisper. Agitating the walkers that had already pegged you as their next meal wouldn’t be smart. You walked with small steps, unable to see where you were going. You didn’t want to fall over something, especially if that something was your partner. There was no sound aside from your quiet footfalls. Frankly, it was unnerving. 

You had felt fear morphing into panic just as a hand wrapped around your ankle. Your first instinct was to kick out but you managed to hear the click of a zippo lighter opening followed by the familiar flicking that would ignite the flame. Daryl was slumped against a utility shelf, surrounded by a mess of jugs, tools, and empty storage bins. 

He looked tired. Sweaty and pale, but mostly just exhausted. You knelt beside him and took the lighter from his hand, sitting it close by on the concrete floor. “You alright?” You asked softly. His skin was clammy beneath your fingers when you stroked his cheek and brushed his hair away from his eyes. Rolling his head toward you, his expression screamed ‘did you really just ask me that?’ and you couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He stared at you for a moment, almost as if he was deciding whether or not you were sincere. One corner of his mouth twitched upward so slightly that you would have missed it had you not been staring at him so intently. He finally grunted with a nod and let his head rest against a lower shelf, closing his eyes. 

Satisfied that your impromptu toss hadn’t caused him any further injuries, you slid the lighter a bit closer so you could take a look at his leg. It wasn’t good. The fabric was soaked through, dark droplets collecting steadily into a small puddle below his leg. Worry gnawed at your gut but you pushed it down in favor of taking action. “I’m gonna get you stitched up and we’ll figure out what to do from here.” He gave you a thumbs up, not bothering to open his eyes. 

You scooped up the lighter and turned to reach for your pack. Only—it wasn’t there. Where had you placed it? When you replayed the past fifteen minutes, you felt your stomach sink. 

You had left it behind. Beneath a walker. 

“Fuck.” You breathed the word out shakily, frozen to your spot on the floor. 

“What?” Daryl rasped from behind you. 

You still wore a frozen expression of horrifying realization when you twisted back to look at him. He raised his head, brow drawn inward, and repeated himself. 

“My pack. I left it out there—when I ran over to help you.” 

To your shock, he simply shrugged. “Don’t matter.” 

You gaped at him. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?! Daryl, you’re bleeding!”

Another shrug. “Ain’t the first time, won’t be the last.”

“Daryl. Seriously.” You leveled him with a glare, but he waved you off and began pulling himself up with the aid of the shelves. “What’re you doing? Sit down!” You were really struggling with keeping quiet. The man had a stubborn streak a mile wide. 

“Can it, woman. M’fine.” He stumbled away from the safety of the shelf and grabbed onto the edge of a small table with a grunt, lips pressed into a thin line. 

You noticed, of course, and folded your arms over your chest. “That hurt, huh?” You deadpanned. He tossed a glare your way and, with a sigh, you approached and held up the lighter to start looking around the shed with him. There wasn’t much beyond some handheld tools, random hoses, containers, nuts, and bolts. There were no windows, no other way to escape. 

Fortunately, Carol knew you two had left and where you were going. She had asked to come along but you had shot her down. If only you had known the numbers you and Daryl would face on your own, not to mention the aftermath. Regardless, Carol would come looking. Eventually.

You both just had to survive until then. 

The likelihood of that was looking bleaker by the moment. Your provisions and medical supplies were outside, amidst about two dozen walkers. Not to mention, Daryl was steadily losing blood, leaving a small trail as he finished scouting the space for anything useful. You began to wonder if you had managed to nick the artery after all. 

“Okay, okay. We just need to think. We’ve made it out of worse situations.” You stood facing him, trying not to think about how fast he was breathing or how the pallor to his skin resembled the undead just outside the door. 

“Ya shoulda run. Told ya to run.” Daryl stated quietly, not looking at you. “Ya know damn well—”

“You know damn well I’d never leave you behind! Not now, not ever!”

“Y/N.” His eyes were shimmering with moisture and you could clearly see the flame reflected there. You gave him a small but genuine smile. You would absolutely give your life for Daryl. You knew he would do the same for you. He almost had more than once. Your eyes followed his hand, calloused fingertips whispering down your jaw. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. If you did die tonight, at least you’d be with the man you loved.

You opened your eyes when his hand fell away, ready to keep showering him with affection. Your smile faltered. He was staring at you, face taut with fear. “Daryl?” Just as you took another step closer, his eyes rolled back and he dropped. You abandoned the lighter in favor of catching him, arms hooking beneath his. You couldn’t hold his sudden weight but you managed to slow his descent. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You ended on your hip with his upper body against your torso and his head tucked under your chin. It was a struggle but you managed to turn and sit against the shelf. He was still pressed tightly against you, and you had no intention of letting go. Your tears flowed freely now, one hand moving constantly: stroking his hair, touching his face, checking his pulse, fisting his vest. 

You flinched violently when the door rattled and you heard shards of debris rain onto the concrete. They would flood into the shed any minute. You pulled Daryl’s second knife from its sheath on his belt. Your gun had been lost in your battle to seal the door. 

Cradling him even tighter, you pressed your face into his temple and sobbed. “I love you. No matter what happens, you have to know that.” 

Moments passed, the pounding on the door became more pronounced as the lighter’s flame began to diminish. You could see moonlight and shadows through the areas of the door that had given way under the assault. You could only watch as the door began to buckle. When it seemed as if they would finally break through, you pressed a kiss to Daryl’s forehead and maneuvered from underneath his body, gently lowering him to the floor. 

You were beyond exhausted. Your own injuries were singing with pain. Still, you would put down as many of the fuckers as humanly possible, ready to die before you’d let a single rotten finger touch him. Knife poised to attack, you shifted from foot to foot, readying yourself. The flame went out. 

“HEY!”

You froze at the very human, very alive shout from outside, your tear-filled eyes wide and unblinking. The pounding on the door lessened before stopping completely. 

“TAKE COVER IN THERE!”

You didn’t hesitate to drop the knife and throw yourself over Daryl just as an explosion sounded from just outside. The small shed trembled fiercely for a matter of seconds before everything went still and quiet. Breathing heavily, you raised your head. The door was hanging by one hinge, ready to collapse. Smoke and dust was filtering in and blocked any view of the scene outside. 

A silhouette began to take shape as it approached. Daryl’s knife was back in your hand within a heartbeat and you crouched in front of the still unconscious man, ready to defend him. Your eyes narrowed. 

“Y/N?”

The knife clattered to the ground. “Carol?” Your voice broke on the second syllable, hope seeping into your chest and making you dizzy. 

The silver-haired woman stepped through the doorway, a large gun in hand. She released the barrel and let the strap take the weight so she could pull a flashlight from her belt. More shadows were scurrying about through the smoke behind her. You shielded your eyes as the light found you, falling back onto your ass with a broken laugh of pure relief. 

“He okay? What happened?”

Carol crossed the distance and sat the gun aside, placing a cool hand on your cheek while she looked you over critically. 

“We’ve had a shitty day.”

Your thumb was tracing circles over the back of Daryl’s hand, your eyes following the movements. It had been roughly 13 hours since the grenade had rattled the small shed and Carol had been your savior, along with some volunteers she had rallied up. They had brought medical supplies but you chose to use what you had in your pack. Daryl was going to be thrilled. 

He had remained unconscious while you stitched his leg and while the volunteers helped get him onto a horse. You didn’t feel safe riding with him draped across the animal’s back and chose to ride behind him on the saddle. He was leaning heavily against you, head lolling side to side on your shoulder, and your back ached by the time you and Carol had arrived home to the Commonwealth. He had been restless in his state, saying your name several times in a voice laced with pain and confusion. Each time, you had answered and the arm you had wrapped around his middle had gently tightened. He never responded. 

The men who had traveled back with you carried Daryl into the hospital and he was whisked away on a stretcher. You didn’t like the idea of not going with him but the nurse had insisted that you needed care as well. You sat quietly while your arm was stitched, mind wandering to what would have happened had Carol not shown up when she did. You shook the thoughts from your mind before a devastating conclusion could form images behind your eyes. 

Carol had stayed for a while before offering promises of bringing some food by later and then heading to her home to sleep, leaving you alone with Daryl. The silence was daunting. 

Glancing up, you watched the drops of antibiotics and fluids drip from the bags hanging on the pole. Tomi had promised Daryl would make a full recovery but insisted he stay for at least two days to ensure there was no infection. You did not want to be the one to break that news to him. 

You narrowed your eyes when you were almost certain you could hear the small droplets hit the collection in the mechanism that fed the medication into Daryl’s IV. God, you were tired. You wanted, in the worst way, to crawl onto the bed with him and sleep for days. Yet, you remained in your chair at his bedside, slouching down to lay your head next to his hand that you were still holding. 

You had no more than closed your eyes when Daryl began to come around with a quiet moan. Standing so quickly caused the room to spin but you didn’t care. The archer’s eyes were closed tightly, brow creased. Tomi would need to give him something for the pain, probably. He’d have to be quick and sneaky, otherwise Daryl would refuse it. He always refused anything that could be used by someone else to better their lives for even a moment, at the expense of his wellbeing. Luckily, you and Carol were around to make sure he somehow managed to stay healthy. He didn’t make it easy for you. The previous night had been proof of that. 

After just a few moments, he relaxed a little and his eyes began to flutter open. You leaned in further so you would be one of the first things he saw and gave his hand a squeeze. His tired gaze settled on your face and his fingers briefly tightened around your hand.

“Welcome back, Dixon.” You smiled while your free hand began to smooth back his hair, soft and gentle sweeps of your palm that you thought for a moment might coax him back to sleep. 

“Hi.” He croaked, expression pinching up in discomfort. A cup of water was at his lips a moment later. Given the position of the bed, he didn’t need to raise his head far to accept a few swallows, but you put your hand behind his neck to support him anyway. When he turned his head away slightly, you placed the cup on the bedside table. Daryl cleared his throat and tried again. “Ya alrigh’?”

You laughed at the ridiculous question. Of course he had nearly bled to death and was worried about you when he woke up. “I’m fine. I’m not the one laid up in the hospital.” It was a joke and he knew it, if the feeble scoff he gave was any indication. 

“How’d we get back?” He still sounded so, so tired but you’d take tired and awake over sitting by his deathly still form any day. 

“Carol.” You didn’t have to say anything else. The man nodded gingerly and closed his eyes. You stayed quiet for several minutes, back to petting his hair. While he was relaxed under your ministrations, he was not sleeping. “Daryl, we need to talk about what happened.” He didn’t open his eyes right away but released a deep sigh. “We should have waited to go after those guys when a group had been designated. Instead, I was chasing you, running off all half-cocked.” You waited and finally his eyes opened. He didn’t look at you, and you knew then that, while he felt bad about it, he was aware you were right. He stared at a point between the wall and the ceiling, stubbornly refusing to engage in the conversation. It was your turn to sigh. “Daryl, why didn’t you wait?” You pressed. The answer was one you knew already, but you needed him to be willing to talk about it. 

“Kid was s’posed ta be with me, Y/N.” He finally said. “Them parents ain’t got their kid no more cause I didn’t protect him.” There was a sadness in his eyes that broke your heart. It was still a wonder to you how that brash, rude redneck you met at the quarry all those years ago transformed into the man in front of you. Still sometimes rude, but with the biggest heart of any man you’d ever known. He had opened himself up and allowed himself to love and to be loved, though it didn’t come without cost. Allowing himself to feel so deeply also made him a slave to more negative feelings. He held onto those tightly and let them punish him, beat him down. 

You leaned over him to press a kiss to his forehead, the action drawing his gaze to yours. “Listen to me, Daryl Dixon.” Your hand gently pressed on the side of his face. “That guilt isn’t yours to carry.” When he opened his mouth, your hand moved to press a finger to his lips. You shook your head. “It’s not. There’s no one to blame here except the kid and those men. He chose to leave the community that day and that was a mistake he was old enough to know better than to make, but it was those men that made the choice to end his life. That’s not on you. Do you hear me?” 

He was mulling it all over, looking away from you. You weren’t naive enough to think that this conversation could change the way he processed emotions, but perhaps over time, with enough love and reminders, he would stop shouldering so much shit alone. 

“Ya still should’a run when I told ya. That’s gonna getcha killed one day.” 

“Why do you do that?” You twisted to sit on the edge of the bed, next to his hip. 

“Do what?” Daryl grimaced, probably from pain, but his expression smoothed out quickly. 

“Act like you shouldn’t be important to me. Like I shouldn’t make you a priority.” You waited for him to look at you. You wanted him to see your sincerity. “Being in love is not a weakness, you know. You’re everything to me, Daryl. You make me want to fight, to survive. If it takes me dying to keep you alive then it’s worth it.”

“S’not.” 

“It is. You are.” When he looked away, you leaned over to cup his cheek and turn his head to face you again. The emotions you saw there made your heart clench. “You are worth it. You will always be worth it, Daryl.”

His Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed, eyes looking back and forth between yours. “M’s’posed to watch out for ya.”

You shook your head. “You and me. This. Us. We’re a team. We watch out for each other.” His lip quivered so slightly that you almost missed it but you chose to leave it be. “That’s the deal, Dixon. You’re never getting rid of me.” A tear slid down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had started to cry. Daryl pulled away the hand you had never released and reached to wipe away the moisture with his thumb before wrapping his fingers around the side of your neck to pull you down. 

It wasn’t your first kiss but like every one before it, it stole your breath. His lips moved against yours softly while he raised his hand from your neck to place it back against your cheek. Too soon, the moment ended and you sniffled away anymore tears while your forehead rested against his. 

“M’okay with that.” He said quietly. “Not gettin’ ridda ya.”

You noticed the hint of a smile when you laughed. “You may change your mind about that when you see the hot pink thread I used to stitch up your thigh.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and pulled you down for another kiss. “Yeah, might want a refund after all.” 

[class-of-classic-blog]

MY HEADCANON FOR PARENTS NAMES:

Snow White: Bianca White ( Bianca means "white" and Whites are probably one of the most obsessed families with their story, every single Snow White had a name with meaning relative to the fairy tails,)

Evil Queen: Eris Queen (I can't remember did I read a fic where she was called Eris but I think that the name of the goddess of discord really suits her)

Sleeping Beauty: Rosalin Beauty (pretty standard name)

Cinderella: Ophelia Ella ( a sweet name for a sweet girl)

Red Riding Hood: Scarlett Hood (one more standard name)

Big Bad Wolf: Aiden Wolf (close friends call him Andy :) )

Dark Fairy: Darcy Thorn ( oh the irony of being the dark fairy with dark name and yet cover yourself in light)

Candy Witch: Cinnamon Witch (I also didn't come up with this name myself. I saw someone use it for her a really long time ago but I can't remember who. If the person who came up with this name sees this, you deserve a reward, the name is perfect. But I hc that she goes by her nickname: Candy. Why? Because it's such a cute nickname)

Pinocchio: Oak Wood (I think that every family name has something to do with trees or wood. Oak sounds like a perfect name for someone sweet, young and cheerful and later as an adult calm and wise)

Goldilocks: Dolly Locks ( I just think that its a cute name and she kinda remind me of Dolly)

Huntsman: Archer Huntsman (Okay, so, Huntsmans are bad at naming their kids, like REALLY BAD. Hunter we are counting on you to break that cycle)

King Charming: Dashing Charming (I read one fanfic were he is named Dashing and i think that name suits him, i myself couldn't come up with the more fitting name)

Queen Charming: Grace Charming (I also read that one in a fanfic and i think it fits her, somehow whenever i think of Charmings Dashing and Grace are the first name that come to my mind)

Rapunzel: Cressida O'Hair (I first just like the name but then i found out the Cressida means "golden" so it goes well with Rapunzel story)

Pied Piper: Devin Piper ( It means "bard" or "poet", the perfect name for a musician. Also, Piper is really a cool name, too bad it is already his last name)

Mad Hatter: Maddox Hatter (I just like silly names for Wonderlandians, especially Mad Hatter)

Queen of Hearts: Victoria Hearts ( okeey, it's not a very Wonderlandian name but neither is Elizabeth and Vicy is a cute nikename)

Cheshire Cat: Lorelai Cheshire (I didn't want to go for the obvious one Chatrine, like, I get it, she's a cat, She literally named her daughter Kitty, or maybe Katrine Kitty for short, BUT THEN I REMEMBER THAT TOLERAI EXISTED which is literally the same name just different first latter and I already gotten attached to Lorelai, so, umm if you all could just do me the favour and pretend that these are TOTALLY different names I would be very thankful)

Alice Wonderland: Amilia Wonderland ( Also would her last name be Wonderland or Liddell? Bonus cute nickname Amy)

White Rabbit: Castor Blanc ( At first i just liked the name but don't you think that "dutiful" is a perfect for White Rabbit)

White Swan: Elenor Swan ( It means "shining light" and to be honest with that destiny she's going to need some light in her life)

Black Swan: Callisto VonBart (What would be the last name of The Black Swan? VonBart?BlackSwan? I put VonBart because I found an OC of Odille on Pinterest and her last name was VonBart. I don't know)

Frog Prince: Hanry Croakington ( i reafuse to belive that he named his son after himself. Nuh-uh. He named Hopper after his father or maybe his grandfather)

Robin Hood: Wren Hood ( Listen, Listen, maybe they just have a thing with the birds?)

Maid Marian: Pandora Charming ( I don't think that there is a destiny stricly for Maid Marian. I think thats just a princess from Charming family or from nobel family, that's why i gave her last name Chaming. Last name changed after the wedding)

Beauty: Primrose Beauty ( Ah, Beauties and their roses)

Beast: Damian Beast (like it)

Fairy Godmother: Beatrice Goodfairy ("blessed one" mmm... too bad you can't bless yourself)

Jack Beanstalk: Jasper Beanstalk (nice)

Snow Queen: Isolde Winter (perfect for ice queen)

Snow King: Nikolai Winter (took his wife's last name, couldn't think of his own that's not arleady taken)

BONUS: PRINCES CHARMING

The Good King: David Charming (i think that only the main Charming follow that logic with names where all siblings have names with the same first latter)

Cinderella's prince Charming: Louis Charming (he's a nice boy)

Snow White's prince Charming: Cassian Charming (I just like it)

Sleeping Beauty's prince Charing: Liam Charming (don't ask)

[ju-nebugg]

a complete (and ever-evolving) list of the many titles of mr. henley whispers

because Henry Shields is a genius and all of this deserves to be documented

Henley Whispers

aka the Turbulent Wind

aka the Storm Before the Calm

aka Lithe Spirit

aka Lord of the Prance

aka Bowfingerer

aka the Bark Knight

aka Work Hard Fae Hard

aka Coyote Handsome

aka Tree Weird

aka the Gorse Whisperer

aka the Arrow-ma Therapist

aka Aragorn-al Activity

aka Quiver Phoenix

aka Jack of All Trades, Master of All Trades

aka Tree Willy

aka Dave Fern

aka Soft-Core Faun-ography

aka Forest Whitaker

aka Notorious Tree-IG

aka Mr. Yumnus

aka Ranger Danger

aka Lust of Wind

aka Parry Hotter

aka Pollen Farrell

aka The Wood, The Bard and the Smugly

aka the Longest Bard

aka Daft Skunk

aka Brodo Swaggins

aka Dismay in a Ranger

aka Harriet Shrubman

aka Jeffrey Archer

aka Fen Diagram

aka Look Who’s Tolkien

aka Fennel May Care

aka the Grass Samurai

aka Chloro-Phil Spector

aka Woody Allen

aka Thelonius Trunk

aka the Moss Adjuster

the ✨ rhymes ✨:

human ranger, damage dealer, story weaver, owl deceiver

human ranger, goblin killer, pale ale swiller, dream journal filler

human ranger, rabble rouser, full of heart, devoid of trouser

human ranger, hidden stranger, friend of danger, dark avenger

human ranger, expert juggler, against the chains which bind us struggler

human ranger, loot stringer, shameless swinger, on da funk bringer

human ranger, check bouncer, espresso mispronouncer 

human ranger, rule flouter, truth spouter, earthworm doubter

human ranger, poker player, that which others won’t say sayer

human ranger, trendsetter, otter petter, in-joke getter

human ranger, blame dodger, advertising for a lodger

human ranger, cheeky chancer, always-on-the-off-beat dancer

human ranger, truth spinner, under-7s judo winner

human ranger, time waster, different brands of water taster

human ranger, hog roaster, subtle boaster, party ghoster 

human ranger, crystal healer, your-layers-like-an-onion peeler

human ranger, hell raiser, into-the-abyss gazer

human ranger, lithe linguist, sensual astrologist

human ranger, bugbear wrestler, established-societal-norm questioner

human ranger, tune hummer, every-known-fear overcomer

human ranger, knowledge gleaner, has the grass that’s always greener

human ranger, deer consumer, vole beguiler, badger groomer

human ranger, havoc wreaker, noted after dinner speaker

human ranger, cattle roper, inter-species interloper

human ranger, prey pouncer, fearless fighter, local counselor

deer stalker, fox glover, the one you’re with lover

black run skier, caged bird freer, the-change-you-want-to-see-in-the-world be-er

human ranger, eldritch blaster, surreptitious podcaster

human ranger, villain injurer, power broker, serial milliner

human ranger, wild reaver, what-a-tangled-web-we-weaver

human ranger, seed sower, flower goer, the-distance goer

human ranger, head turner, butter churner, bridge burner

human ranger, shameless liar, rule defier, hair dyer

human ranger, misbehav-er, always-against-the-grain shaver

human ranger, beast enrager, strong orator, up-upstager

human ranger, owlbear slayer, soothsayer, the-field player

human ranger, quick-quip punner, villain stunner, long-con runner

human ranger, heedless cur, own-job-interview saboteur

human ranger, of-wind guster, no-one truster, goat buster

TRUE FACTS ABOUT HENLEY:

he believes that any bird singing in the forest is doing it specifically for him (and birds don’t sing when he’s not there)

he trims his pubic hair into the word “shazam”

he keeps a dream journal (but if he has a nightmare, he ignores it and makes up something nice)

he writes really bad poetry (short, broken sentences, “rupi kaur style”)

he’s been using Ghoul’s Gruel as anti-aging cream (it doesn’t work)

his spirit animal is himself

he pronounces espresso like “ethpretho”

he has a bad feeling about worms in general

he howls at the moon

he pretends to understand all inside jokes

he’s very concerned about the mortgage repayments on his house

he always dances on the off beat in order to stand out in the club

he’s the reigning champion of the under-7s judo competition in his local area

he can tell the difference between brands of water (and he has very strong opinions about them)

he leaves parties without telling people and then comes back in disguise to talk about the fact that he left

he uses healing crystals

he gazes into the abyss until it gazes back because he wants the attention

he uses “sensual astrology” to try and seduce people

he has every known fear (the exposure therapy backfired)

he shaves (against the grain) with a sword (your hair doesn’t grow in hell. he does it anyway.)

he always has the greenest grass (he steals any grass he sees that’s greener than his own)

he runs a grooming business for badgers (“what does he get in return from the badgers?” “…friends”)

he’s an accomplished after-dinner speaker

he tried to hibernate with badgers and they kicked him out

he majored in drawing in sand with sticks

he’s a bed wetter

he always bets all in when playing poker

he is a leading member of the “pithy council” (it’s just him and a ferret getting together to recite pithy sayings)

he will love the one YOU’RE with (aka sleep with your wife)

when someone asks him a difficult question, he turns and runs

he thinks he’s been leaving episodes of a podcast called “whispers on the air” in various rocks and twigs on their journey, but he doesn’t have the spell for it so he’s just been talking to inanimate objects

he has an unhealthy obsession with hats

he sleeps in a web

he invented a kind of long distance running called long distance fleeing (26 miles = safety)

he burns every bridge he crosses

henley (a natural blonde) dyes his hair blonde (his natural hair color) so people will think he has grays because he’s older and more mature than he really is

he must always be upstaging someone

he has an inexplicable hatred of goats and, similarly, an inexplicable love of sea turtles

[gothic-soda]

BoTW Theory: The Champions were unarmed when the Blights attacked

Losing my mind I just realised this detail in BoTW and I had to share it. Maybe this has already been pointed out, but I wanted to dive into it. In Memory 15 “Return of Calamity Ganon,” none of the champions are shown with their weapons, except for Link.

See, no weapons.

And when Revali flies up to get a better look at the Calamity, we can see he doesn’t have his Great Eagle Bow.

The only one with a visible weapon is Link, who has the Master Sword.

We can assume that the champions headed straight to their divine beasts while Link and Zelda headed to the castle. Daruk clearly orders all of the champions to immediately head towards their Divine Beasts.

And really, if you think about it, the original plan was for the champions to strike Ganon with their Divine Beasts, they’d have no reason to think they’d need their weapons, because the Champions themselves were never meant to face off with Ganon directly.

Then there is also the fact that each Champion’s respective villages has kept their Champion’s weapons in a chest for 100 years after the Calamity. This is even though no one had set foot on any of the Divine Beasts in 100 years, so if the champions DID have their weapons on them during the battle, how would it be possible for each champion’s race to have their weapons in their possession? And they couldn’t have been retrieved after Link freed the Divine Beast, because Teba makes a comment that he is not strong enough to use the Great Eagle Bow without it slowing down his flight. I don’t exactly buy the idea that Teba, while injured, would have immediately tried the Great Eagle Bow the second Vah Medoh was freed. He most likely did so at some point before freeing the Divine Beast with Link.

We know from BoTW that each divine beasts has chests containing weapons that the champions could have potentially used to defend themselves, but they are all spread out throughout the divine beasts, so it certainly would have been difficult for them to get their hands on any weapons even when they did realise they were under attack.

The only weapons onboard each divine beast were:

Vah Medoh

5x Bomb Arrows

10x Ice Arrows

1x Knights Bow

Even the best archer in Hyrule (which Revali canonically was) would not be able to defeat Windblight with that.

Vah Naboris

1x Knights Bow

1x Knights Shield

The only thing Urbosa would be able to use here would be the shield, she’d still have her fury, sure, but that’s hardly a fair fight. And even if she knew how to use a bow (which there is no canonical basis that she does) there weren’t any arrows aboard Vah Naboris anyway.

Vah Ruta

10x Fire Arrows

10x Ice Arrows

1x Knights Halberd

The only weapon Mipha could even use here is the Knights Halberd. She’d have no use for arrows without a bow, and same thing with Urbosa, we have no idea if Mipha knows how to use a bow anyway. I should also mention that the halberd is in quite a difficult place to get to, right at the top of the Divine Beast. So this really wasn’t a fair fight for poor Mipha.

Vah Rudania

1x DragonBone Boko Club

2x Knights Bows

10x Arrows (in two separate chests, so 2 chests each with 5 arrows)

5x Ice Arrows

Nothing here would be particularly useful for Daruk. The Boko club is made out of wood, so it would catch on fire. And I don’t think Daruk would even be able to hold the Knights Bow, it would be too small for him even if he knew how to use a bow (which again, who knows if he does or doesn’t). Daruk seems to have to worst luck out of everyone.

And yeah maybe there were other weapons on the divine beasts that the champions did use, but my point is to illustrate that most of the weapons they had available to them were not ideal.

The sad part is that these chests were all unopened, so the champions likely didn’t even get a chance to defend themselves, they were taken completely by surprise.

It also puts into context that most of the champions make some kind of comment about their opponent fighting dirty, it literally wasn’t a fair fight.

[hopestrope]

Rhaenys Targaryen, The Queen that Should Have Been

"Rook’s Rest was Ser Criston’s next objective. Forewarned of their coming, Lord Staunton closed his gates and defied the attackers. Behind his walls, his lordship could only watch as his fields and woods and villages were burned, his sheep and cattle and smallfolk put to the sword. When provisions inside the castle began to run low, he dispatched a raven to Dragonstone, pleading for succor...

Here Mushroom’s version seems most likely, for we know that nine days after Lord Staunton dispatched his plea for help, the sound of leathern wings was heard across the sea, and the dragon Meleys appeared above Rook’s Rest. The Red Queen, she was called, for the scarlet scales that covered her. The membranes of her wings were pink, her crest, horns, and claws bright as copper. And on her back, in steel and copper armor that flashed in the sun, rode Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was.

Ser Criston Cole was not dismayed. Aegon’s Hand had expected this, counted on it. Drums beat out a command, and archers rushed forward, longbowmen and crossbowmen both, filling the air with arrows and quarrels. Scorpions were cranked upward to loose iron bolts of the sort that had once felled Meraxes in Dorne. Meleys suffered a score of hits, but the arrows only served to make her angry. She swept down, spitting fire to right and left. Knights burned in their saddles as the hair and hide and harness of their horses went up in flames. Men-at-arms dropped their spears and scattered. Some tried to hide behind their shields, but neither oak nor iron could withstand dragon’s breath. Ser Criston sat on his white horse shouting, “Aim for the rider,” through the smoke and flame. Meleys roared, smoke swirling from her nostrils, a stallion kicking in her jaws as tongues of fire engulfed him.

Then came an answering roar. Two more winged shapes appeared: the king astride Sunfyre the Golden, and his brother Aemond upon Vhagar. Criston Cole had sprung his trap, and Rhaenys had come snatching at the bait. Now the teeth closed round her.

Princess Rhaenys made no attempt to flee. With a glad cry and a crack of her whip, she turned Meleys toward the foe. Against Vhagar alone she might have had some chance, but against Vhagar and Sunfyre together, doom was certain. The dragons met violently a thousand feet above the field of battle, as balls of fire burst and blossomed, so bright that men swore later that the sky was full of suns. The crimson jaws of Meleys closed round Sunfyre’s golden neck for a moment, till Vhagar fell upon them from above. All three beasts went spinning toward the ground. They struck the ground so hard that stones fell from the battlements of Rook’s Rest half a league away.

Those closest to the dragons did not live to tell the tale. Those farther off could not see for the flame and smoke. It was hours before the fires guttered out. But from those ashes, only Vhagar rose unharmed. Meleys was dead, broken by the fall and ripped to pieces upon the ground. And Sunfyre, that splendid golden beast, had one wing half torn from his body, whilst his royal rider had suffered broken ribs, a broken hip, and burns that covered half his body. His left arm was the worst. The dragonflame had burned so hot that the king’s armor had melted into his flesh.

A body believed to be Rhaenys Targaryen was later found beside the carcass of her dragon, but it was so blackened that no one could be sure it was her. Beloved daughter of Lady Jocelyn Baratheon and Prince Aemon Targaryen, faithful wife to Lord Corlys Velaryon, mother and grandmother, the Queen Who Never Was lived fearlessly, and died amidst blood and fire. She was fifty-five years old."

-Fire and Blood, George R.R. Martin

(Arts by Vak Phoenix, Jordi Gonzalez Escamilla, Douglas Wheatley, fkadaenerys)

[lipeg]

What the fuck is this group?

Jaune Arc - Paladin.

It came from another world and doesn't want to go back. He likes his new life and now he can enjoy his life and honor his family name

He has healing ability

His sword and shield fighting style.

He's a magnet for women and single mothers.

He is a cook and leader of the group.

Jubirildo - Berserker/ Barbarian

Craziness and bar fight is like himself.

How he joined the group no one knows.

He speaks a strange language that allows him to swear in many different ways.

His main ability is madness, He's been through a lot and he's crazy.

Unusual strength, he is capable of carrying a heavy weight twice as heavy as himself.

He is the one who kills without the slightest mercy.

But he proved to be a good-hearted person.

Vanitas - Bard/Necromancer

Bard traveling with his lyre and guitar playing music to feel alive.

He is able to create creatures through his emotions.

He has a fetish for strong women.

He is sadistic and would like to see his enemies suffer.

Amazon

She came from a tribe of warrior women where women have more muscles than men .

She was traveling looking for a challenge and looking to get even stronger.

She joins the group after being defeated by Jaune.

Where she developed a rivalry and passion by Jaune.

Monstrous strength.

butt of steel, Strangely, she likes to perform an attack in which she jumps very high and attacks the enemies, crushing them with her steeled butt.

Sorceress

She only joined the group because it makes it easier for her to find ingredients for her spells.

She likes Jaune because he doesn't hate sorceress.

Elemental magic.

She can create monsters from wood and earth.

She often went shopping and got discounted.

She hates Golbins and Orcs and kills them as soon as she sees them.

Elf - Archer

Joined the group to learn more about humans.

Archery skills.

Can communicate with nature.

She has a great knowledge about plants.

Dark Elf Beastmaster

Dark Elf and Elf hate each other but Jaune manages to control the situation.

She has an incredible ability to tame dangerous beasts and make them her pets.

She is also good at magic.

Together, they would slay the great red dragon with four heads, RWBY.

...............

..................

...................

................... Sorry it wasn't in the script.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah.

Played Dragon's Crown, it's cool, it's Streets of Rage, but it's also an RPG.

[cuoredimuschio]

🥳 wip wednesday: birthday edition 🥳

okay, so birthday edition might be a bit misleading. this is a standard wip wednesday with the exception that today's my birthday, so i probably won't answer the prompts till tomorrow, but still!! let's do this!!

rules: send me the name of one of the wips below and i'll write and post three new sentences for you!

wips:

a stout heart, a good bow, and a merry life (steddie big bang)

hey, batter-batter (post-s2 steddie alternate meeting)

wound up (the assholes-to-lovers guitar lessons au)

line of apsides (the summer challenge fic that should have been done a year ago, oops)

snippet from a stout heart, a good bow, and a merry life:

What, Steve finally stops to wonder, was he doing out here all on his own? His heel catches on a root, his back bumps up against a tree. “Who are you?” “My name is Eddie.” The archer liberates a small purse from a particular burly thief’s pocket; it jangles dutifully as he weighs it in his hands. “But you, Mr. Harrington, probably know me as Kas.” “The Bloody-Handed.” Like a curse, the words steal from Steve’s lips. Eyes as dark as a gorthokian boar’s, filled with twice as much hatred. A voice that echoes up from the deepest pits of Hell and shakes the treetops. The hands of a beast, clawed and contorted; a stench that could wilt flowers; a heart colder than a thousand winters. Those who had the spectacular misfortune to cross paths with the monster of Roane Wood, and the miraculous luck to live to tell their tale, often gave conflicting, fantastic reports of the man at the root of the myth. But all of them hold one fact to be true: an unconquerable lust for blood sits where his heart ought to, driving him to conduct unspeakable violence as surely as if he were besieged by Hell’s worst demons. The archer—Eddie—Kas the Bloody-Handed Betrayer spreads his arms. “In the rotten flesh.” “You’re the one who’s been terrorizing the kingdom?” Steve asks, a rather needless question. Yet, it’s difficult to comprehend, that such evil and depravity could be contained in one man of perfectly unremarkable stature. His eyes dart to his horse. If only he could reach her. Draw his sword and drive it through Kas’ loathsome back. Drag his corpse to the gates of Hawkins, though he hardly deserves such consideration when he’s denied it to all but a handful of his victims. But Steve would be lauded as a hero, one of the greatest the kingdom has ever known. He’d be welcomed home with open arms, the Harrington name lifted higher than it’s ever been before.

tagging, with no pressure and all love: @cheatghost, @thefreakandthehair, @sharpbutsoft, @puppy-steve, @kkpwnall

[bright-side20]

Ruhn & Lidia ✴️🔆

With a sparkle of Elriel because I can't not talk about them duh

While rereading CC2 I focused on Ruhn and Lidia because the last time I was focusing more on Quinlar and I've missed details.

Snow Queen:

I believe the retelling of The story of Ruhn and Lidia will be inspired by the snow queen story.First because of the story Lidia told Ruhn and that actually was about her :

there lived a young witch in a cottage deep in the woods. She was beautiful, and kind, and beloved by her mother. (...)

As she ran, she pleaded with the forest she loved so dearly to help her. So it did. First, it transformed her into a deer, so she might be as swift as the wind. But his hounds outraced her, closing in swiftly(...) But the prince was a skilled archer, and he fired one of his iron- tipped arrows.” “The forest turned the witch into a monster before she hit the earth. A beast of claws and fangs and bloodlust. She ripped the prince and hounds who pursued her into shreds.”

“ one day, a warrior arrived in the forest.(..) . She set out to slaughter him, but when the warrior beheld her, he was not afraid. He stared at her, and she at him, and he wept because he didn’t see a thing of nightmares, but a creature of beauty. He saw her, and he was not afraid of her, and he loved her.”.... “His love transformed her back into a witch, melting away all that she’d become. "

The Snow Queen is known as a villainous character, yet we don't know anything about her backstory or motives. What if she's also cursed? What if she also needs someone like Gerda who will truly see and love her to break the curse? That's what Ruhn did; he saw Lidia for who she truly is, loved her for it, and made her remember who she is. That she's not the person she's been portraying. Opened to her about his secret and insecurities they both saw each other. He'll accept her for who she is, even after discovering her true identity and job.

I really like that this is a parallel between them and Elriel, because they also saw each other for who they actually are and fell for each other for it. For me Elain represent Gerda's power, and the fact that Az thinks he's unworthy of her because of he's job, but she already called he's scars beautiful, she'll also accept him for who he is.

Second, descriptions of Lidia are all related to the Snow Queen:

"I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be myself. I think I’ve lost my true self entirely. To destroy monsters, we become monsters."

“You remind me of the wind.” He tried to explain. “Powerful and able to cool or freeze with half a thought, shaping the world itself though no one can see you. Only your impact on things.” He added, “It seems lonely, now that I’m saying it.”

(that's literally a description of the snow queen, powerful yet lonely)

“There’s no place for that in this war. The sooner you realize it, the less pain you’ll feel.” “So we’re back to the ice-queen routine.”

Mating Bond

First, it is obvious that Lidia and Ruhn are mates because he was able to reach her mind without the crystal. After the mental sex, their scents merged, though it remains unnoticed because they haven't accepted the bond yet.

This also shows that Az being able to smell the bond in Lucien's presence, to the point where he can't stand it, is indeed weird.

Secondly, Ruhn walking blindly to his death to save her is typical mate behavior, but the thing is this:

He’d kill him. Slowly and thoroughly, punishing him for every touch, every hand he’d put on Lidia in pain and torment. He had no idea where that landed him. Why he wanted and needed that steel-clad wall between him and Lidia, even as his blood howled to murder Pollux. How he could abhor her and need her, be drawn to her, in the same breath.

Isn't it interesting that he confirmed to Bryce that she and Hunt are true mates, and now, he's experiencing the same instincts but fighting them. The easiest thing to do is oh I know she's my mate I have to accept her, but No! This shows how Sarah writes about mates; the bond isn't the sole reason to love each other or choose to fight to be together. He'll take his time to process things, they'll talk, love, and accept each other for who they are, and then they'll come to the part of the mating bond.

That's why Lucien telling Elain she's his mate right after she'd been into the cauldron is enough to know they're not endgame. In fact, the plot of the mating bond suits Elriel better because with Az showing mate behaviors towards Elain, they also took time to get to know each other and fell for each other.

Power

_Ruhn:

I think he will learn more about his power, especially now that Bryce is with Rhys and Feyre. And he has already questioned if he can do more with his power:

If he were to follow her that way, would he wind up in her mind? See the things she saw? Look through her eyes and know who she was, where she was? Would he be able to read every thought in her head? He could speak into someone’s mind, but to actually enter it, to read thoughts as his cousins in Avallen could … Was this how they did it?

And he has already managed to slip into Lidia's mind:

Ruhn slammed into a wall of black adamant. Time slowed, bringing with it flashes of sensation. No images, all … touch. Bones grinding in her left wrist from where it was being squeezed tight enough to hurt; it was the pain that had awoken her, pulled her away from the bridge.

So I think there will be some development in his abilities. Like, bro, you've got a cool power break some bones, shatter some minds, manipulate the hell out of them.

_Lidia:

I think she might have also inherited some power from her mother, as she referred to herself as a witch in the tale she told Ruhn.

_The fact that she smells like hypaxia:

And her scent had been familiar from the start because Hypaxia was her half-sister, he realized. Family ties didn’t lie. He’d been wrong about her being in House of Sky and Breath—the Hind could claim total allegiance to Earth and Blood.

_Or maybe some fire power, Ruhn was veiled by stars, because of his starborn power, while Lidia was veiled by fire:

Had his mind instinctively shielded him? Or was this what he was, deep below the skin? Was this fire- being standing thirty feet down the mental bridge what she was, deep below her own skin? Or fur, he supposed.

The Hind paused on the threshold before she left, though. Peered over her shoulder at Ruhn, her silver necklace glinting in the sunlight trickling in. Her eyes lit with unholy fire.

That's it, I'm really excited to know more about Lidia and see how their story will unfold, and I'm so ready for January 30th 🌙

[random-bookquotes]

Some people may think that it doesn’t cost a person anything to bow and is of little consequence, but when you become someone this powerful, bowing to others will cause you to lose your authority.

Kanata Yanagino, The Faraway Paladin: Volume 2: The Archer of Beast Woods

[nightbringer24]

New core boxes for Old World, each one at roughly 1250 points worth of models.

Tomb Kings box contains 93 models:

Lich Priest/Tomb King on Bone Dragon, with the option to take the other rider as a foot choice.

40 Skeleton Warriors

32 Skeleton Archers

16 Skeleton Horsemen

3 Skeleton Chariots

Bretonnian box has 76 models:

Lord on Royal Pegasus, to be built as either Duke or Baron

12 Bretonnian Knights of the Realm (which I imagine can be either done as Knights of the Realm or Knights Errant)

36 Bretonnian Men-at-Arms

24 Peasant Bowmen with stakes

3 Pegasus Knights

And a transfer sheet

Can't say if I was wrong or not about the numbers of cavalry in a single box since these are a singular rmy box, not a unit box.

Each box will come with a rulebook, which will obviously be separately sold later.

Armies are split into the two groups: Forces of Fantasy (Good) and Ravening Hordes (Evil), with the former including the Empire of Man, Bretonnia, Dwarfs, Wood Elves and High Elves, while latter has Warriors of Chaos, Beasts of Chaos, Orcs & Goblins, and Tomb Kings. These books are just the army books, essentially, with unit profiles, Grand Army lists, galleries, special rules, magical items and unique spells for each army.

The Arcane Journals cover the lore-side of things but also rules for Armies of Infamy, such as Errantry Crusades for Bretonnia and Mortuary Cults for Tomb Kings. They're just add-ons if you want extra gameplay options for your armies.

Bretonnian and Tomb Kings will be included in their respective boxes, while the other factions will follow next year.

Tomb Kings are having nice new models:

Nekaph, Emissary of Settra

Battle Standard Bearer

Tomb Swarm, which are good deal more dynamic than the OG Tomb Swarm below

But yeah.. this looks cool.

[keepingeahalive]

Ever After High Parents’ Names Headcanons Pt. 2:

Apple White:

Snow White: Ambrosia White

King White: Audacious White

Raven Queen:

Evil Queen: Elin Queen

Good King: Benevolent “Ben” King

Briar Beauty:

Sleeping Beauty: Rosalinda Beauty

Prince: Valiant Beauty

Ashlynn Ella:

Cinderella: Dustine Ella

Prince: Determined Charming

Maddie Hatter:

Mad Hatter: Darjeeling “Darjee” Hatter

Cerise Hood and Ramona Badwolf:

Red Riding Hood: Scarlett Hood

Big Bad Wolf: Lucius Badwolf

Cedar Wood:

Pinocchio: Pine Wood

Blondie Lockes:

Goldilocks: Chiffoni Lockes

Mr. Lockes: Unknown

Hunter Huntsman:

Huntsman: Archer Huntsman

Huntsman’s wife: Juniper Huntsman

Daring, Dexter, and Darling Charming:

King Charming: Forthright Charming

Queen Charming: Felicity Charming

Holly and Poppy O’Hair:

Rapunzel: Cressida O’Hair

King O’Hair: Dauntless Charming

Melody Piper:

Pied Piper: Reed Piper

Mrs. Piper: Karsilamas Piper

Lizzie Hearts:

Queen of Hearts: Mary Hearts

King of Hearts: Henry Hearts

Kitty Cheshire:

Cheshire Cat: Catherine Cheshire

Mr. Cheshire: Unknown

Duchess Swan:

Swan Princess: Odessa Swan

Prince: Ambitious Charming 

Hopper Croakington II:

Frog Prince: Hopper Croakington 

Princess: Precious Charming

C.A. Cupid:

Eros (adopted)

Psyche (adopted)

Alistair Wonderland:

Alice: Alicia Wonderland 

Bunny Blanc:

White Rabbit: Panon Blanc

Mrs. Blanc: Coney Blanc

Ginger Breadhouse:

Candy Witch: Sugar Witch

Mr. Breadhouse: Biscotti Breadhouse

Sparrow Hood:

Robin Hood: Martin Hood

Maid Marian: Marianne Maid

Rosabella Beauty:

Beauty: Belleza Beauty

Beast: Best Charming

Faybelle Thorn:

Dark Fairy: Darcy Thorn

Mr. Thorn: Loki Thorn

Farrah Goodfairy:

Fairy Godmother: Freya Goodfairy

Mr. Goodfairy: Auberon Goodfairy

Crystal Winter:

Snow Queen: Frostine Winter

Snow King: Eirwen Winter

Justine Dancer:

12th Dancing Princess: Hustella Dancer

King Dancer: Swift Charming

Lilly-Bo Peep:

Little-Bo Peep: Lila-Bo Peep

Mr. Peep: Ramon Peep

Meeshell Mermaid: 

Little Mermaid: Pearl Mermaid (canon)

Prince: Philip Mermaid (canon)

Humphrey Dumpty:

Humpty Dumpty: Barnaby Dumpty

Mrs. Dumpty: Henna Dumpty

Jillian Beanstalk:

Jack: Jock Beanstalk

Jack’s wife: Janine Beanstalk

Nina Thumbell:

Thumbelina: Dalena Thumbell

Flower-Fairy Prince: Mosswell Thumbell

Coral Witch:

Sea Witch: Cirrina Witch

Mr. Witch: Barney Brine

Brooke Page:

Female Narrator: Constance Page

Male Narrator: Pendleton Page

[wodeward]

Geoffrey Wodeward of Clan Gangrel

As a breathing man, Geoffrey had a decent life. The descendant of a Norman archer who came to England with the Conquest, then moved west to settle in Gloucestershire and put down roots. He inherited an appointment as a forester on the lands of the local baron and enjoyed a life that was, while not the privileged one of a true knight or lord, still a mark above toiling fields as a serf.

However, any station, high or low, comes with duty behind it. The lord’s forests were rife with danger - large game like stag and boar who could gore an unwary or unprepared hunter to death. Wolves emboldened by winter skulking too close to settlements. And of course, people to be dealt with - poachers and rebels and outlaws using the cover of wilderness to hide their deeds.

He was still a young man when the baron’s liege - Robert Fitzroy, Earl of Gloucester - called for soldiers to defend the right of his sister, Empress Matilda, on the throne. And he was called, so he went. He spent the years of the Anarchy as a scout and a bowman; at the hard-won negotiations of peace, he returned home.

He'd scarcely had time to hang his cloak in the forester's lodge before he was dispatched to help solve a problem. Someone (or something) out in the woods was poaching the baron's game. Corpses of deer found mutilated and drained of blood (the flesh wasted and left to rot in the sun), the rest of the herd not thriving besides. 

Relieving the younger brother who had taken his post while he was off at war - a good and competent soul, but worn pale and sick from the strain of the matter - Geoffrey took up arms to get to the bottom of it. All signs he could read pointed to the culprit being an animal: a maddened wolf, perhaps. He'd shot plenty of wolves.

He tracked the beast as the winter began to set in until he unearthed what seemed to be its resting place. And watched  as the sun set to see if the creature would emerge. To his grand surprise, what crawled out wasn't an animal at all, but a woman, dressed for travel, unafraid of the night and the dangers therein.

Unfortunately, though he'd shot plenty of wolves, he'd been trained to give a person warning and the right to surrender to custody. And she laughed at this as surely as she laughed at the arrow that loosed her way afterwards. The one that broke on her flesh as though it was made of stone.

She was on him a moment later, sharp teeth latched to his throat.

When a member of the hunting posse found his bloodstained coat on the dirt the following morning, they assumed the worst. When, three nights later, he arrived back at the lodge, pale and distant but otherwise no worse for wear, it was a cause for celebration long enough for them all to be disbanded and sent back to their lives.

That winter was the hardest he had endured. By grace or by cunning, he managed to avoid being destroyed by the sun or attracting attention through indiscretion. The excuse that resuming his post took his daytime hours passed well enough. Ironically, he learned to subsist like an outlaw or the creature that had made him; off the baron's game, largely, with the rare passing traveler come like a saints' feast day.

The nights were lengthening back to winter when the woman came traipsing back for him. Encountering her again after she'd cursed and abandoned him made his blood boil, but there were things he wanted to know from her. Fortunately, she'd come back not to finish the job of killing him, but to reward him with knowledge after passing her trial.

She called herself Cerys -  a Gangrel from the Welsh Marches who skirted the court of Baroness Seren of Gloucester. Connected just enough to have once been given permission to create progeny (in exchange for a boon to be paid, of course). Before Geoffrey's timely arrival, she'd actually targeted his younger brother, Henry, but found in him a candidate tougher and more cunning and therefore more suitable to bestow with her blood.

In a way, the transition into unlife had just enough familiar elements to his experiences in his warmer days that it wasn't as jarring as it could have been. Cerys' 'apprenticeship' was rough but he endured it. The court in Gloucester left him alone if he didn't cause trouble. If the poachers and outlaws he found in the wood went to his own hungers or to tribute in London instead of to trial- perhaps it was only that the world was unkinder with monsters in it. At least that's what he tried to tell himself.

(art by: lammergeared)

[ill-met-by-m00nlight]

Lily sighed as she walked through the woods . The shifter was a little board and she was honestly lonely. the full moon was approaching within the next few days and that always made her extremely agitated. wolves were pack animals yet she had been a lone wolf since as long as she could remember

The blonde haired archer jumped as he heard steps from somewhere in the distance as he quickly readied the bow in his hand ready to shoot. Finally this was his chance, he was going to be free.

He froze however realizing that it wasn't the beast that he had been tracking but instead someone very much new. "Who are you, what are you doing out here?" He asked.

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 8: Warriors, Wind & Chain - ALT Human Shield

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Summary: The bond between brothers was thick and unyielding between the nine heroes. Some were closer than others, some pretended not to be close, some wore their feelings on their sleeves towards the others. Warriors just wished that the bond didn’t make you throw yourself in front of danger and become the living human shield just so the other wouldn’t get hurt, or in Warriors case, die. He was never going to forgive himself for what happened.

CW: Blood, injury, temp MC death

Shoutout to @spookypanda04 for helping me out on a good ending. Thank you!!

The bond between brothers was thick and unyielding between the nine heroes. Some were closer than others, some pretended not to be close, some wore their feelings on their sleeves towards the others.

There was no doubt that Warriors and Time were close and already brotherly towards each other, even if Time was still called the little brother between them. A story they hadn’t told yet.

Warriors had not quite the same relationship with Wind, since Wind at his current age hadn’t been in Warriors War yet, but the two were still close. Warriors was glad to see that his blue scarf wrapped around the younger still worked on him even if Wind didn’t know how many times he had done that to him during the war.

It still worked on Time too on those night’s where he looked much older than he was.

Warriors just wished that the bond didn’t make you throw yourself in front of danger and become the living human shield just so the other wouldn’t get hurt, or in Warriors case, die. He was never going to forgive himself for what happened, or forget the image of Wind’s bloody smile and how it splattered onto his clothes and skin as the kid coughed.

Warriors knew where everyone on the field was as they fought against Bulblins from Twilight’s era. Four, Wind and Sky were to his far left taking down a swarm of the monsters easily. Time and Legend were ahead of him and more centered on the field. Twilight, Hyrule and himself were off to the right, leaving Wild at the moment up on high ground provided by a small cliff so he could snipe missed monsters or to call out new threats.

From the tree line came a blaring horn and stomping hooves. The cavalry had arrived, charging from the wood line right where Warriors and the other two were fighting. Unable to move out of the way fast enough, Warriors shoulder guard got hooked by one of the Bullbos that were trying to herd the heroes to the center of the fight.

Sword still in hand, Warriors thrusted it through the creature's neck, nearly going deaf from its dying roar. He hastily stood, colliding weapons with the Bulblin that had fallen from the dead stead. These were more of a challenge to fight, but manageable.

Up strike, down strike, swipe right, jab. A few repeats and the monster went down, but where one fell another took its place. As if fighting something over double his height wasn’t bad enough, Wild let out a high pitch whistle to warn them all of a new threat.

Archers lined the front of the field, fire arrows nocked and drawn back. Warriors had lost his shield somewhere in the process of being dragged, but he spotted it only twenty feet away. He could make it. There was no other choice.

“TAKE COVER!!” he ordered so the others knew too what was headed their way.

Sliding the last few feet, he snatched his shield, bringing it to prevent the oncoming arrows that had just been shot. There was one problem. The Bullbo was charging him head on. He wouldn’t be able to block arrows and fight this horrid looking beast. Warriors looked up to the sky, arrows rushing towards the ground, choosing to bring his shield up and crouch behind it. Two arrows were embedded in his shield as others pierced the ground around him.

The roar of monsters falling from the bombardment of arrows was coming from every direction, though his attention was on the Bullbo that was right in front of him. The rideable creature collapsed at a full sprint, throwing its rider through the air, ramming into the Captain and bringing him to the ground in the most horrific way.

Warrior hollered out in agonizing pain as the beast landed on top of him, his back against one of the few downed trees. He felt the shattering of the bones in both of his legs and hips, bone even breaking through the skin. He continued to scream after the monster disappeared into a dark puff of smoke. He tried to move, wanting to access the damage. His eyes were blown wide in fear when he couldn’t move. It wasn’t the fact that he couldn’t move, it was that he suddenly couldn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t feel anything from his low back down. In shock from the realization that he was in fact paralyzed, in the middle of a battle, the pain of it was put to the back of his mind. His ears were rigging beyond what they would be if he was standing next to a cannon going off and his breath was coming out in short puffs of air.

The sky turned dark as a second batch of arrows filled it. Warriors saw it, saw his death coming and accepted it because there was no way he could protect his head, torso and the rest of himself. He honestly didn’t think he could pick up his shield in the first place. ‘What an honorable way for a soldier to go.’ He thought to himself as he laid his head back on the log, eyes closed, waiting for impact. The impact that he got was not of arrows, but a body covering him. Arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, his head against their chest and he took in the scent of the ocean’s salt.

Wind…

There was no time to react, to push him away or throw a shield over him. Warriors couldn’t even reverse it to protect him. He could feel when the arrows met their mark. Wind’s back bowed, hands grabbing at Wars scarf. If he made a sound, Warriors didn’t hear it due to the blood rushing past his ears.

In the distance there were explosions. More than likely from Wild pulling off one of his time manipulation tricks with his bow and bomb arrows, but Wars wasn’t paying attention to the victory of the battle. He was looking wide eyed at the young boy- no- he was looking at the young man that potentially just gave his life for him.

“Wind? Wind!”

The Captain had never been more grateful for the ability to read lips that was taught to all the soldiers in his era. Hey would have missed Wind saying, “It’s okay. I-it’s okay.”

Not believing what was happening, he placed a hand on either cheek of the one still hovering over him, desperately wanting this to be a nightmare. “Wind, why? Why would you do this?”

“We are brothers. Brothers save each other.”

Wind began to cough and wheeze as Wars hearing came back. A stream of red liquid drizzled from the Sailor’s parted mouth. Coughing made it splatter thickly on Warriors clothes and the bare skin of his neck and face. Uselessly he tried removing the blood from the younger’s chin, only to smear it across his left cheek.

Pushing himself to his feet, Wind took a stumbling step back, allowing Warriors to now see the four arrows that ran through the other, tips dripping the same red that was coming from his mouth. “Love ya Wars.” Wind smiled and fell backwards with one last staggered step backwards. The shafts of the arrows broke, but only after pushing through a bit more.

Despite the pain in his back, the fire that started in the nearby dead grass growing closer, the monsters still attacking, Warriors got to his side, then his stomach. He tried to use his arms and abdominal muscles to crawl, but he found that only from his chest up was fully functional. He didn’t care. He was going to make it over to his downed brother’s side.

Clawing at the blades of grass and cracked dirt, he dragged his mangled body closer. With each pull of his arms he let out a holler, but he didn’t stop. He bit down on his lip, nearly biting through it to get his mind to focus only on this one task. Reaching where he needed to be, he cupped Wind’s cheek to move his head towards him so he could see the young face. His eyes were barely open.

“Wind?” He placed his middle and ring finger against the pulse point at the youngest hero’s neck. “No. No no nonono- NO!! Wind? Come on Sailor, open your eyes. Wind please!”

He shook the child’s shoulders enough that his head tossed from side to side. He moved the bleached curls framing his face away, planting a firm kiss to the tanned forehead. He choked on the sob that was building up in his chest. What was the point in holding it in? Warriors buried his face into his youngest brother’s neck and shoulder, ignoring the triangular blades threatening to go into his own skin and let out the most heart wrenching scream.

“LIINK!!”

He continued to weep where he laid partly on top of the departed child until hands started prying him away. He clung tighter, but then a hand grabbed his hip to pull him back and he screamed for a whole new reason. The searing pain was more prominent now that his adrenaline was doused.

“StopstopSTOP! ” he screamed again, placing his hand against his low back.

Warmth of magic covered where his hand was. “Dear gods… His spinal cord is severed.” Hyrule announced.

He sucked in a needed breath and looked up at Time who was now cradling his head between his hands, thumbs stroking the tears away. “S-save him… please, save him before helping me.” The looks he got from Time and Hyrule were grim. “Try, at least try!”

“Okay, okay, we will try.” Hyrule hopped over him to get to Wind’s side, Twilight and Wild replaced his spot.

“Cap?” Time asked in a slightly panicked tone. “Need you to stay awake for us. Cap? Warri- L-k?” Wars gave into the shock, images blurring into swirls of colors until all he saw was black.

Waking up, Warriors tried to slowly filter in the sounds, smells and sights of his surroundings. A fire was crackling in the center of camp, food being cooked by their talented chef. Off to the side, Hyrule was passed out, half lying in Legend’s lap. The Vet was looking down at him while carding his fingers through brown curls. Four was cleaning weapons near the fire, keeping Wild company. Sky was on his side, back to the camp, Wolfies head laid on the Skyloftian’s. Right beside him was Time, sketching or writing in his journal.

Something wasn’t right as he looked over their faces. They were all red eyes as if they had been crying, gazes turned downwards and no one was speaking. What had happened? He looked at them all again. There were only seven, plus him. Where’s- Wind!! His eyes snapped open. Wind was- Wind had-

Wind had died. Wind was dead. They were mourning Wind all because he had to wind up hurt during a battle.

He let out the smallest sound of lament for the young man that died a hero. That sound caught Time’s attention. “Wars, welcome back.”

“Sprite?” The sturdy Captain’s chin quivered as his eyes welled with tears. “I didn’t ask him to, I didn’t want him to. I-I couldn’t do anything about it. He was suddenly there and I couldn’t protect him. Time, I couldn’t stop it from happening.”

“Shhh, it’s okay.”

“Why did he do that?” Warriors hiccupped around a cry. “Why did he do that for me? He shouldn’t have done that!”

“Wars, slow down-”

“He’s dead and it’s my fault!”

“Warriors, stop. Link!”

Warriors stopped and looked up, waiting to be told that it was his fault, that he should have done something. He was waiting for a scolding, to be reprimanded physically in any way the eldest felt like he deserved. It was the way in his era, but it never came. Only a gentle, calloused hand was laid on top of his head, fingers scratching at his scalp. Confusion was clear on his face.

Time gave a sad smile, knowing what Warriors was expecting. “Wind is alive.”

“What?” Did he hear correctly?

“Hyrule got him back.”

Warriors looked at the sleeping Healer. There were dark bags under his eyes, skin a bit pale. His magic was drained. It was drained from saving their youngest member. He let his head thud against the hand still placed where it had been.

“Can you wiggle your toes?” Time asked, then smirked some when Warriors did so. “Go slow and easy for now. Hyrule went through hell getting you two back. Don’t ruin it. Want us to bring Wind over here?”

He could cry for a whole new reason now and was on the verge as he looked at Sky who was carrying a Wind Burrito, swaddled in the blue scarf that he loved to steal away.

“He only would calm down when he had your scarf.” Sky told him with a fond smile as he oh so carefully laid Wind down, pillowing his head on Wars arm. Wind sighed and moved closer to him.

For the second time that day, Warriors buried his face into Wind’s neck. He whispered the response he hadn’t had the chance to before, “Love ya too, Wind.”

[wayfaringstrangxr]

Cont. from here @eyeofvengeance

When he received news about the burning of Castle Cerwyn and every village around it, Lord Stark immediatelly called a retreat to Winterfell. Every woman an children were safely on the cripts and every single man capable of raising arms had been given weapons.

Even that Winterfell were heavily guarded, Cregan knew that no ground army would be match for a dragon and he had no plans of making the same mistake as King Harren once had, by locking himself inside his castle.

There were no storm coulds in the sky when Cregan heard the sound of thunder. The wind carried the scent of burning wood, flesh and the screams of helpless people who had no time to defend themselves from the Terror of the Trident.

Grey stormy eyes scout the sky non-stop in search of what he knew to be inevitable. His hope relies in having time to evacuate the villages near to Winterfell. Ravens were sent to the Stark's bannermen, but he knew their arrival would be late. The North would face fire, and if they were to meet an end, their Lord would make sure to be an end worth of being sang for generations.

The wardern's resolve didn't waver when the flap of Vhagar's wings brought the scent of death and blood. "Load the scorpion." his voice sounds low to the men around him and they waste no time, before the ground shakes beneath the beast's weight. Ever since Prince Jacaerys visit, Cregan knew retaliation was likely to happen, if by land or sky he didn't know, but they must prepare for everything, and so they did. With the little time they've had, two scorpions were built and placed behind the walls of Winterfell, hidden in the arrowslits and covered behind the Stark banners. But his men were not used to such a massive weapon and he needed to buy time for them to position it on the right angle.

He could only hope that they had enough arrows to bring down a beast of her size. Cregan's expression didn't shift with the prince's threats, he had experienced colder summers than his raw rage. He expected no respect for his people or their gods, not from a kinslayer, but what he heard of Aemond Targaryen were mere words compared to face the prince himself.

Vhagar inspired fear into his men. Her unease was also theirs, and her growl awaken the most raw of human instincts: the will to flee before such mighty force.

"Steady, men." Cregan's voice was low, but firm. His steadiness was a beacon to his men, and as long as he stood strong, so would they. "We shall not find our end today."

"Gods! You do enjoy the sound of your own voice, don't you?!" The wind carry his words.

He had no business to deal with Aemond, his threats wouldn't get under his skin, the harshness of the North had made it thick and the prince would find much harder to set fire to his cold will.

"Aim for her chest." He commands once the scorpion is loaded.

The first arrow only grazed the dragon, cutting deep into her flesh close to the wing. But it wasn't supposed to be a warning shot, if they had more experience, the dragon would be dead. The element of surprise with the hidden weapon was their leverage, but the danger for both dragon and rider was still there.

"Archers, get ready!" His voice echoes, strong, fearless. "Aim for the rider!"