#They are worse than useless as allies.

[quasi-normalcy]

We have two major political parties in this country, and the TOP legislative priority of one of them has been to harass and attempt to eliminate a minority group who's just a random, natural variation of human existence.

[whaledenwtf]

Halsin x Druid!Reader - The Forest's Calling

I'm currently HYPERFIXATING on Baldur's Gate 3. This is my love letter to Mount Halsin, the elf I would climb until my limbs fell off. You're welcome (or I'm sorry). Cross-posted on AO3 here: Link Enjoy!

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Choking, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), Kinky DRUID Forest Sex, Misuse of the Entangle Cantrip (hehe), Size Difference

I tried to keep Halsin in character as much as possible, but there is a significant change when y'all get funky

WORD COUNT: 4691

Nature calls to you, as it always had. The sounds of the forest have always been your favourite. Silvanus' creations had made you feel complete. The moss between your toes, and the swaying of trees; you had never felt so much peace during such perilous times. It's at times like this you are gracious for your god's teachings; nature is chaotic as it is gentle, and things will sort them out- if that is what is determined. This is how you kept such a level head during this adventure. Some of your companions saw your level-headedness as worrisome, but you always remind them that to persevere is in the forest's nature, and so it is in yours.

No good ever came from stressing over obstacles in your life.

"If you could stop thinking about the grass for five seconds, I'd appreciate you listening to me. Tch- tree huggers." Astarion tells you annoyed. You look into his crimson eyes and smirk.

"This tree hugger is your key to freedom. Unless you forgot about the tadpole in your brain." Astarion's eyes widen, before he smirks.

"Keep talking dirty, sweetheart. Might not resist taking a bite~" You chuckle.

"Settle down. Like I told you beforehand, we must seek out the Archdruid Halsin before we continue our journey. Nobody could come close to him in terms of knowledge-" Lae'zel rolls her eyes.

"Nobody could come close to the information about the ghaik than us githyanki. You istik entertain such useless ideas." You roll your eyes at her. Before you could speak up, Shadowheart speaks to the githyanki.

"Yes. I'm sure your barbaric race would know much more." She says sarcastically. "I, on the other hand, would much rather any other option besides yours." Before Lae'zel could fight back, Karlach speaks to them both.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss already. Wasting time when we could be slaying goblins and getting closer to being free. Stop fucking around and listen to (Y/N)." You nod your head in appreciation to the tiefling.

"Besides, even if Archdruid Halsin does not know how to help us, he may offer his services regardless. Leaving him with the goblins is a fate worse than death. His ally-ship will be indispensable." This appeases those in the group who were unsure of your leadership.

"Always the cunning one, aren't you sweetheart." Astarion speaks up. You turn your head and wink.

"Let's push forward and assist in any way we can." Wyll speaks up. Gale nods, looking over our group.

"Let's be smart and proactive, we do not want to lose eachother, nor do we want to get caught. We shall stay in hiding for as long as possible. Stealth is the best way forward with our little information we have." Astarion taps your chin.

"I like you like this." You smirk at him before leading the group to the Goblin Camp.

After killing every goblin in the vicinity, you all venture forward to a cage where a bear is roaming.

"A bear. He was probably going to be goblin fodder." Astarion says, smirking.

"Hush. Poor thing was being attacked by these goblins." Karlach speaks to him, bumping her shoulder into Astarions. He gasps, the wind being knocked out of him.

"Careful. I bruise like a peach!" He tells her angrily. She chuckles.

"And you're just as bitter as a rotten tomato-" Astarion bristles. You cut him off.

"Settle down, girls. We have time for play later. Show some respect. That bear is our charge." You unlock the iron gate before walking in alone.

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Gale says worriedly, but you shush him. When the bear makes eye contact with you, you see the gold swirling in his eyes. His mouth opens to show his sharp teeth, a warning.

You bow down infront of the bear, laying a hand out towards his snout.

"Are you sure that's... wise, sweetheart?" Astarion asks, concerned. You ignore him before speaking.

"Archdruid Halsin, it is my absolute honour to stand before you. We have come here to free you from your imprisonment and bring you back to the Emerald Grove. May Silvanus preserve us." Without a beat, the bear transforms into a tall, handsome, elf. Your eyes widen at his stature, but more at his beauty.

"Ah, a fellow druid. Silvanus has certainly looked upon me in favour. Thank you for assisting me." You realize you are still kneeling, at crotch level with the Archdruid. Your eyes flicker to his pelvis, and eyes widen at what you see. You rise to your full height, which makes you eye level with his chest. Your head tilts to look into his eyes, and notice him watching you, with a small smirk. He saw you gazing at him, how embarrassing.

"Of course, Archdruid Halsin." He shakes his head softly, braids swaying with the movement.

"Please, call me Halsin. My savior shouldn't have to call me by such a title." You nod, before looking over your shoulder at your companions. They are all looking at the tall elf in shock.

"He just- he just turned into a man!" Astarion says out loud. You chuckle.

"Yes. My preferred wild shape is a bear." He responds to the shorter elf, not looking away from you, glancing over you in curiousity. You turn back to look at him. Your eyes stay locked while you speak to your party.

"Let us leave. We will bring Halsin back to the Emerald Grove and then we can rest. I want to wash off this gods-awful goblin blood before it stains my armour." Everyone nods at that. They turn to walk out, ready to escort Halsin back. You follow your group, Gale and Wyll leading you all forward.

"Thank you, little flower. I truly appreciate you aiding me." Halsin whispers to you, matching your strides behind the group. Little flower... the nickname made you giddy. You blush softly, the heat reaching to the peaks of your ears.

"I can't leave a fellow druid behind. Especially with what those goblins were doing to you." You shake your head, looking over him and the dried blood that caked him from his wild shape form. He chuckles at your worried gaze.

"Nonetheless, the Oakfather has blessed me with your assistance. I am indebted to you for life." You turn to look at him, his easy smile and warm eyes making you feel something... magical.

"The Oakfather has blessed us many times anew. The air we breathe, the ground we walk upon, the forests. But alas, I did come to release you because we need your assistance-" His eyes widen lightly, before he looks down at you.

"What do you need, little flower?" The way he speaks to you is soft, unconcerned of the questions you will ask him. His caring nature speaks to the softest parts of you.

"I will ask you once we bring you to the Emerald Grove. However, I must warn you-" You stop walking and grab his arm. Holy hells his arms are buff. You must have paused for a moment too long.

"What is wrong?" You shake your head at your own thoughts. You're acting like a toddler, instead of the adult elf you are.

"At the Emerald Grove... Kagha is planning to do the Rite of Thorns, and is releasing all the Tiefling refugees..." Halsin's eyes almost bug out of his head.

"We must stop them! That rite does more harm than good! Those Tieflings... fleeing towards death. It is not right!" You tell him passionately. He takes your hand from off his arm and grips it in both his large hands.

" We will stop them, little one." You nod. He continues to hold your hand.

"The shadow curse has been on my mind for so long, I cannot believe I trusted such a-" He shakes his head, cutting himself off.

"We will continue our trek and once we stop the rite, I will tell you all you need to know." You bite your lip.

"If I could help carry your burdens, I would." He chuckles, a light blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.

"I'm sure you would, little flower. Now, let us continue our journey. I appreciate you warning me." He lets go of your hand and waves his hand out, gesturing you to go forward, so you do. You can't help the chill that you feel when his hands release yours.

After stopping the rite, you did speak to Halsin about the tadpoles. He sighs when he says he cannot heal you of your affliction. A shiver of fear goes through your body. If someone as knowledgeable with healing like Halsin cannot heal you, you cannot imagine how to move forward. Its then that he tells you that the Shadow-Cursed Lands may be the key to assisting you in your journey. You bite your lip worriedly.

"I will continue to assist you. I will follow your party and do what I can. Not only for the cursed lands, but also for you." He says it with such conviction, such passion, you cannot help but feel safe and warmed from his sentiments.

"I feel indebted to you Halsin. Truly." He shakes his head.

"You will be helping me much more than I, you." You smile up at him. He cannot help but be captured by the radiance of your smile. Oakfather preserve him, you are the most beautiful of his creations.

"I will help you with this shadow curse. Take back nature and restore balance. I just hope I don't grow any tentacles in that time." You say humourlessly, your laugh hollow. He grabs your chin with his hand, his thumb stroking the side of your face.

"I promise on all of the Oakfather's creations, I will not let anything happen to you." Your eyes flutter, and you glance down at his lips before looking back into his eyes.

"Thank you." You whisper to him. His attention is taken elsewhere, and his hand caresses down your neck before releasing you, and moving to the Tiefling asking for him.

You feel this feral need to have him, to help him. You're attracted to him, and you can tell this will be problematic. Oakfather preserve you.

That night, the Tieflings throw a party for you all. The music is loud, and you can see them enjoying themselves. You look over your companions and see all of them enjoying themselves; albeit in their own ways. While looking over the festivities, you see Halsin standing away, gazing over the festivities and people watching. Your eyes make contact and you blush.

"This wine tastes like goblin piss." Astarion tells you, gagging on the swig he just took. You chuckle at him, breaking eye contact with the handsome druid to look over at the vampire.

"Not your type of red drink?" You ask him flirtedly. He smirks at you and leans into you.

"No, sweetheart. My type of red is standing right next to me, as radiant as ever." His face gets close to your neck and he sniffs you deeply.

"All of a sudden, I am thirsting for something else." He tells you. You chuckle at his advances.

"Are you now?" You flirt back. He smirks down at you.

"You're much more fun to speak to like this, sweetheart. I can't help but want a taste." You giggle at him, before taking the wine from his hand and taking a couple mouthfuls.

"Oh gods it does taste like goblin's piss." You splutter out. He laughs at your turmoil.

"Oh darling, you make me laugh." He tells you. You grin at him.

"Glad my misfortunes bring you joy." He smiles at you, sharp teeth glinting in the campfire's light.

"Mm. The only thing that would bring me more joy in this moment is having a taste of you." His voice lowers to a whisper. You roll your eyes.

"Easy there. If I didn't know you better I'd say you're a bard, singing my praises so I could follow you to your tent for the night." You push his chest gently.

"I'm sure I can make you sing, sweetheart." He tells you, looking at you with a smirk.

"As much fun as we would have, I think you've had enough to drink." You tell him jokingly, waving the bottle of wine in his face. You take another swig, and swallow down the bitterness. You go to walk forward, the alcohol driving you to your destination; Halsin.

"Ah, my little flower! It seems you were having fun." Halsin tells you, smile on his face. The crease between his brows tells you that he'd much rather had been the one sniffing your neck, rather than Astarion. You feel a rush of confidence surge through you, aided by the alcohol in your system.

"I decided to turn my attentions elsewhere." You tell him confidently. He smirks at your words.

"Is that so? Well, I am honoured to have such attentions on me." He tells you in a whisper. You almost whimper at his words, feeling hot. You feel as though molten lava has replaced the blood in your veins, and the heat is centralized at the apex of your thighs. You rub them lightly, which catches the elder druid's attention.

"You could have much more than attentions on you tonight, Master Halsin." Your voice lowers to a whisper, and the effect is immediate. His eyes shine golden and his smile becomes wider, more primal. Just like in the Goblin Camp, it was a warning.

"Is that so, little flower? Are you offering yourself to me?" He asks you gently, taking a step forward. You are now flush with his body, and the carvings on his undershirt graze the peaks of your breasts deliciously, hardening them. You moan quietly, looking up at the gargantuan man through your eyelids.

"I'd like to explore you, Master Halsin. See if those rumours of your... generosity are true." You feel his arm wrap around your waist, his hand resting at the small of your back. His fingers seem to tighten, digging softly into your skin.

"You seem to enjoy calling me by my honourifics." You hum, smirking at him.

"I'm just calling you by title. You would like to be my master, would you not?" He growls lowly, much like a bear would.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little one." He tells you huskily. You giggle at him.

"The only games I would like to play are with you, Master." In his eyes you can see him having an inner battle. You take the hand on your waist in yours, which snaps him out of his inner turmoil. The alcohol is rushing through you now, your (very little) inhibitions non-existent now. You pull it closer to your face, before taking a thick finger in your mouth and worshipping it. You kiss at the pad of his forefinger before licking it; inevitably taking it into your mouth and sucking on it softly. He watches you entranced, groaning softly as you let go of his finger with a pop. You take his hand in yours, and pull him towards the edge of the camp, leading to the forest. Once you find the small grove in the forest, you let go of his hand, spinning in place and enjoying the silence of nature. He stays at the edge of the tree line, watching you with sharp eyes.

"Little flower-" Halsin says softly. You turn to look at the man with a smile.

"Our worries are for dawn. With the moonlight shining on us, and the trees as our witness, I would like to show you the pleasures of the flesh, as nature intended." He groans loudly now, far enough from the camp that your voices would not carry.

"I'm afraid to lose myself. The beast-" You pull off your nightshirt, exposing your breasts in the moonlight. You then pull off your pants and undergarments in one shot, fully baring yourself to his sight. He inhales deeply, eyes looking at you up and down multiple times. You begin to to dance sensually, your hips seeming to beckon him forward. He takes a couple of uncertain steps.

"Halsin. I am not one so easily afraid of beasts. Let me help you forget your woes for a night." His resolve seems to crumble, and he runs to you, leaving you both chest to chest.

"Little flower, I will devour you-" You moan, pulling his hair to bring him to your lips. His chapped lips touch yours, and it feels as if there is magic flowing through your bodies. His hands find purchase under your thighs, lifting you up into him. Your legs wrap around his waist, and you moan into his mouth. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, persuading you to open your mouth to his. Your tongues find each other, and a battle of dominance begins. You lose easily, his gifted tongue prodding and licking at yours with wanton need. You release each other to inhale deeply. He inhales from his nose and groans.

"I can smell your need, little one." You whimper, looking into his eyes.

"You're overdressed, Master Halsin. Allow me to undress you." He lets you down out of his embrace, and you begin to untuck his sleepshirt out from his pants and over his head. You begin to untie his pants, helping him out of them as well. That's when you notice he is wearing no undergarments, and his cock is thick and long, closer to the length of your forearm. You whimper, falling to your knees and looking up at him.

"You don't need to please me-" You cut him off.

"I want your cock to hit the back of my throat until I am unable to speak." He moans loudly, before your hand grasps him at the shaft.

"The Oakfather blessed me with such a giving partner. I- Oh Silvanus-" You take him in your mouth, licking at the tip. You taste his musk, and he tastes like pine and mint, and something that makes you absolutely feral. Without a care for your own wellbeing, you try to swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and then some. He groans, eyes closing as one hand finding itself locked in your hair and the other forming a fist at his thigh.

"That's right little druid, take Master's cock into the back of your throat." His voice goes down an octave, and you feel a rush of slick leave you. Taking him out of your mouth, you kiss the shaft downward until you take his heavy balls in your mouth and suckle. You're panting with need, moaning into his skin. You let go of him, one hand stroking his cock and the other inching down your body to touch your cunt. He looks down at you then with hooded eyes, and moans again.

"Are you touching your needy cunt, little flower? I cannot wait to fill you with my seed until your entire being is satiated." You moan, needing him back in your mouth. You remove the hand on his shaft and deepthroat him again, only getting two thirds of his member into your mouth. You hear your need, the wet sounds coming from your pussy only arousing you further. He begins to thrust into your mouth and you choke on him. After making sure you were alright, he continues his movements, thrusts getting rougher. The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you off his cock, as he growls.

"I will pound your quim until you are unable to walk without my healing, little one." His hands grip your upper arms and lifts you up to stand. Your face is smeared with his precum and your spittle. Once you are stable on your two feet, he kisses you passionately and you moan into him. His hands are touching you everywhere. His touch is searing hot. His hands find themselves at your breasts, rubbing and pinching the peaks of them.

"O-Oh Halsin. Don't stop." He chuckles into your ear.

"I'm not planning to stop until dawn shows itself." You whimper at his words, thrusting your chest deeper into his ministrations. You hear Halsin whisper before your hands are being pulled behind you, tightly grasped. Your feet are also held up, spreading your legs open. You notice that vines grew from the ground and are holding you up like a platter to Halsin.

"As much as I love your touch, little one, I don't want you to push me off when I get a taste of your ambrosia." You moan loudly, almost caterwauling for the elder druid.

His large hands caress up your leg, massaging the skin of your calves, before going higher.

"I wish you could see yourself as I do in this moment, little flower. You're exquisite; truly one of Silvanus' greatest creations." You blush, heaving.

"H-Halsin, please-" He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

"Don't fret, you will be chanting my name soon enough." His confidence is addicting, you could feel how drenched you were even with your legs spread so far apart. His hands finally reach close to your core, and he spreads your slit further open to look at you. You could feel your hole contracting, as if begging for an intrusion.

"By the gods... Look at your tight cunt begging for my cock. Can't wait to have a taste." You feel his breath on you. You look down and see him watching you, as his hands slide up to your breasts to play with your nipples like he had before. The first stroke of his tongue on your clit sent a sensation of pleasure up your spine. You struggle against your bonds, with an insatiable urge to grasp his hair and tug him deeper into you.

His tongue then ventures lower, tasting your essence. He moans loudly into your body, the vibrations of his moan pleasing you greatly. He continues licking you, tasting you as he tweaks your nipples, tugging before massaging. You felt powerless against the bonds, barely hearing anything more than the rush of blood in your ears.

"Your nectar... is just like honey. I can't wait to have you cum on my tongue multiple times." You moan. You can tell you're already close to your precipice, his words, moans and tongue vibrating and licking against your clit deliciously.

"Please... please Master Halsin-" He groans at the honourific. He plunges his tongue into you, lapping you at your source. His nose nudges your clit and that sets off your orgasm. You feel yourself leak onto him, his tongue cleaning your mess. You're shaking with oversensitivity, but he does not stop. One of the hands on your breast caress back down the length of your body, before he pulls away from your core. He grins up at you as he thrusts two of his thick fingers into you. He curls them, as you begin to shake harder.

"That's it, little one. Let all those in the forest know who is making you feel like this, making you cum and feel pleasure-" His words go straight to your core, and more of your slick leaks around his fingers.

"Halsin-H-Halsin- Oh GODS-" His lips wrap around your clit, sucking and licking at you. The attention was too much; you cum again. This time, you can feel much more than slick leave your body- did I squirt? You wonder to yourself, as your body is now lashing against the constraints. You didn't have much time to think about it, as he pulls his fingers out to taste you, moaning. You look down at him, panting. He spreads you open again, this time with both hands, before his tongue is back in you, tasting you like you were water and he was a man dehydrated. You whimper, begging him to give you reprieve. He pulls off of you, his mouth and chin covered in your release. He was panting, his eyes glowing a bright amber.

"You have no idea what you unleashed, little one." He growls out. You feel the vines dissipate. You're laid on the forest ground gently. Before he could move, you flip yourself over with enthusiasm, laying your upper body parallel to the floor and your lower body in the air. You wiggle your ass, one of your hands going between your legs and spreading yourself open. You look over your shoulder and look him directly in the eye. He is watching you with wonder, before you speak.

"Breed me, Master Halsin. Empty your seed in me and fuck me into a stupor." He growls, before kneeling behind you.

"I'll make sure you can't walk for weeks, little one. I'll spread you nice and good." You feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. He rubs himself up and down your slit, gathering your juices.

"Look how wet you are. Such a good little druid for me." You whimper at his words. Without warning he thrust into you, going to the hilt. His heavy balls hit against your clit, and your mouth goes open in a silent scream. He begins a brutal pace, pounding into you. One of his hands reach around your body, his large hand grasping your neck. His hold is tight, but not painfully so. You feel lightheaded, all your senses being overwhelmed by the Archdruid. You feel as though your floating, the only thing tying you to this plane of existence is the continuous thrusts from the elf behind you. You felt as though you were split open repeatedly, his cock reaching places in you that you were unsure existed before today. He growls as he pounds into you, and you begin to feel claws against your neck, before they retract.

"You make me feral, little one. I'm gonna fill you with my seed, fill you with pups." You moan, breathless. His thrusts begin to falter, but they seem to go deeper. You feel yourself fluttering around him, as you gasp.

"I-I'm close." You whisper to him. He groans.

"I feel you fluttering around me, little one." He chokes out. After a handful of thrusts he cums with a shout, and you constrict around him, cumming once more. You feel his seed in you, so abundant that it leaks out around him. You both pant for a couple seconds. He releases your neck and you gasp an inhale.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks you softly. You shake your head enthusiastically.

"N-no. Oh gods Halsin. I am unsure how I will walk right ever again." You tell him breathlessly. He chuckles at that, caressing your back and thighs with gentleness. You feel him slowly pull out of you, taking care to not punish your core anymore. You whimper at the loss, feeling your mixed spend leaking out of you. He flips you over softly, wanting to look you over. His hand goes to finger you lazily. You shriek, body seizing up.

"Not a drop goes to waste." He tells you huskily. After a couple moments, he pulls his fingers out too, and directs them to your mouth. You suckle on the digits, the taste arousing you once more. You both look into each other's eyes as you did this. Once he removes his fingers from your mouth, his lips replace it, tasting both of you on his tongue. He groans into your lips. You kiss for a couple moments, before you both need to separate so you could inhale. You felt utterly spent. He goes to lie down next to you, and your eyes follow him.

His hands begin to massage your sore muscles, before pulling you onto him. You felt utterly spent. He holds you into a lover's embrace and you can't help but sigh into his chest, caressing his pectorals and cuddling into him. You feel his lips on the crown of your head, leaving a trail soft pecks and kisses. You both lay there, absorbing the beauty of nature and speaking about your lives before the parasite and the shadow curse until the sun rose.

END

[syn0vial]

Shadowheart Voicelines: Healing/Helping/Buffing

A compilation of Shadowheart’s voicelines when she’s healing a character with a spell, using the “help” action to free them from an immobilized position, or casting a buffing spell.

Healing (Negative Approval)

Come on, no excuses.

Hardly a scratch.

Pull yourself together.

Hardly deserving of this.

A waste of good healing.

A waste of my skills.

Healing (Neutral Approval)

Cast all wounds into darkness.

May pain be forgotten.

Mend all that is broken.

Wounds begone.

Let the pain fade.

Time to undo the damage.

A little soothing's in order.

Healing's on the way.

Injuries begone.

I can tend to this.

I'll fix that.

Back on your feet.

No time for pain.

This'll dampen the pain.

Need everyone alive and fighting.

You need patching up.

Let me see your wounds.

We need everyone alive.

You are not allowed to die.

This'll help with the pain.

You've been in better shape.

Can't afford casualties now.

We need everyone alive.

Wounds'll soon be forgotten.

This'll help.

Let me take the edge off the pain.

This'll make you feel better.

Where does it hurt?

Pain begone.

This'll make it better. Ssh...

Allow me to help.

Need a pick-me-up?

Let me help.

Healing (Positive Approval)

Wounds'll soon be forgotten.

This'll help, friend.

Let me take the edge off the pain.

You'll feel better in no time.

Away with the pain.

Ssh... this'll make it better.

Allow me to help.

Need a pick-me-up?

Let me help.

Back on your feet, friend.

No time for injuries.

This'll dampen the pain.

You're wounded, friend.

Let me see your wounds.

We need everyone alive.

This'll help with the pain.

You're in rough shape.

Can't afford casualties now.

Healing (Romantic Interest)

I'll fix you up.

Don't worry, I'll make it better.

Let me see to those wounds.

It's all right, I'll take care of you.

Don't worry, I'll fix you up.

I'll patch you up.

Helping (Negative Approval)

Stuck? Of course.

You're lucky I'm helping.

Useless.

Come on.

Worse than a bloody child.

Stuck? Really? Ridiculous.

Ought to just leave you.

Fine, I'll help.

Suppose I'll lend a hand.

Stuck? Of course.

You're lucky I'm even helping.

Useless. Get a grip.

Fine, I'll help.

Helping (Neutral Approval)

Stuck, eh? Hold on.

Better lend a hand.

In a bind? I'll help.

Stuck fast. I'll help.

Can't leave anyone stuck.

Helping (Positive Approval)

Help's on the way.

Hold tight, I'll help.

Don't worry, I'm coming.

I won't leave you behind.

Can't leave a friend stuck.

Can't leave an ally trapped.

I'll fetch you.

I'll help.

It's all right, I'll help.

Hold tight, I'm coming.

Won't leave you stuck.

I'll help.

Helping (Romantic Interest)

It's all right, I'm coming.

Hold on.

Hold tight.

Help's on the way.

I won't leave you behind.

I'll get you.

Don't worry, help's coming.

Of course I'll help.

I'll fetch you.

It'll be all right.

Can't leave you in a bind.

On my way.

Got to help.

Don't worry, I'm coming.

I've got your back.

I'll help you.

Hold tight, I'll get you.

Don't worry, I've got you.

Buffing (Negative Approval)

Come on, stop slacking.

Maybe this'll make you useful.

Try to not waste this.

Need a lot of propping up, don't you?

Waste of my skills.

Why even bother with this one?

Buffing (Neutral Approval)

This'll help.

You need some support.

Allow me.

You need a pick-me-up.

Chin up. This'll help.

Time for a boost.

Buffing (Positive Approval)

This'll help.

Let me help, friend.

Allow me, friend.

You need a pick-me-up.

Chin up. This'll help.

Time for a boost.

Buffing (Romantic Interest)

This'll raise your spirits.

Let me help, please.

Don't worry, I've got you.

This'll boost you.

Anything to help.

You need this.

[where-the-water-flows]

also WHERE is the au where, at some point in his decade long fake dead stint, Shan Gudao discovers his useless cripple son is now actually a pretty decent option for an heir, and poor Fang Doubing:

1) gets his ass kidnapped

2) finds out he's adopted in the worst way

3)finds out his biological father is plotting treason and world domination

4) decides to go all in on being undercover because he's Li Xiangyi's disciple! he has to stop this evil! he can definitely bring this down from the inside!! justice for his shifu!!!

cue poor fang doubing who spends like five years learning to manipulate and/or manslaughter his way through more ethical nightmares than he realised existed, and keeps learning worse and worse reasons that basically no one is trustworthy except, and this is the rub, his shifu (murdered) and maybe di feisheng (tricked into murdering his shifu, also in seclusion, also also definitely not aware most of his underlings are plotting against him)

and then, of course, di feisheng comes out of seclusion, and fang doubing figures...well. maybe having an ally - or at least someone vaguely on the same side - might be novel, after so many years on his own against the sprawling horror of his father's plans.

also I do need to be clear here bc this is tumblr etc etc I am disabled myself, I know cripple is a loaded word for some people but like. I, a cripple. do not @ me

[forasecondtherewedwon]

After the Horse Has Bolted

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: T Word Count: 1899

Summary: Though they escaped execution, Guildford continues to struggle with his transformations and, worse, with dreams of losing Jane. A frank conversation with Susannah might help more than he expects it to.

He loves her like this, watching her move about the camp at twilight. She isn't the only person here with medical knowledge, and she lacks the experience to deal with more severe battle wounds, and some of the Ethians are steadfastly distrustful, but there are enough willing to let Jane close, and enough minor wounds, and, generally, enough patients to go around. Her skills are badly needed.

As Jane tends to people, Guildford feels a bit useless. Though he did try to help, he quickly realized it was all too unfamiliar for him to be of much use. Besides, these people don't extend the same welcome to him as they do Jane. He doesn't have her bedside manner, he supposes. Fuck them for finding him slightly jumpy and suspicious after one of their own (technically, one of his own, but fuck) attempted to murder him with iron manacles. But he thinks this without heat. These people are their allies—almost their only allies—and he's trying to see what Jane sees.

Mostly, he just likes seeing Jane. Jane in the early morning, scavenging in the woods for medicinal plants. Jane winning over strangers by sitting at their side to cut the thread of their stitches with her teeth instead sitting on the throne to sign a document they may never feel the benefit of. Jane alive. Guildford hasn't told her yet that he sees her differently when he closes his eyes. He sees her pristine white dress across the square, the black strip that blinds her. In his dreams, he watches helplessly as she kneels and the axe swings down. That's when he wakes up screaming her name.

Yeah, maybe that's another reason these people feel a little uneasy around him.

Except Susannah. Susannah's been marvellous. They've sort of met before—him below the stairs with the beautiful woman he would next see walking up the aisle of a church, her rushing down those stairs to warn Archer about the guards, then the night of the attempted assassination outside the old Ethian camp—but Susannah makes more of their acquaintance than it really is. She does it so the others will trust him, because they clearly trust her. They listen to her. It isn't long before Guildford learns it was Susannah who mustered the rescue party that saved his and Jane's lives, though he suspects as much even before it's confirmed. He sees their bond. He's grateful for it.

How grateful though, is the thing, when Susannah plonks herself down on the log where Guildford's seated, and follows his eyes, smirking to catch him gazing at Jane.

"D'you ever let your wife ride you?"

He can't look at her as he responds, "Just the once, escaping execution."

"Ah, y'know that's not what I mean."

"No, I don't know that," Guildford says stubbornly.

Susannah hunches forward and catches his eye.

"How come you're blushin' then?"

"Piss off."

"No."

He looks at her, and she's grinning. While Jane was raised a lady and Susannah supported herself in service, Guildford's found them to be cut from a very similar cloth. They're both unflinchingly bold when they want to be. Cautious, at other times, but not timid. Not everyone can tell the difference. He's been learning Jane, and is beginning to know Susannah, and he can tell she's teasing him for a reason. It might be friendly, or a protective test of Jane's husband's mettle, or something else. Whatever it is, Guildford realizes he's probably better off not trying to shut her out. They're persistent, these two women.

"Want to know why I'm asking?" Susannah prompts.

"I'm guessing you'll tell me."

"Very good!" She shifts closer and lowers her voice. "It's 'cause I've heard you screamin' your feckin' head off the last three nights."

"And you thought Jane was responsible?"

"Yeah, I hoped she was ridin' you like there's no tomorrow. Two reasons for that. You want 'em?"

"Terrific," Guildford says flatly.

"One," Susannah says, holding up a finger to show the count, "because back when Jane and I lived under the same roof, I was beginning to have serious concerns that she was never gonna let herself enjoy herself. It was a virgin you took to your marriage bed, Guildford, no question."

"You are nosy, aren't you?" He scowls at her, but Susannah stares back, unfazed.

"It's the same for her with me. If your hair wasn't curled already, she'd have stories to tell you that'd do the job."

"Please just get to your second reason."

Susannah sighs.

"If it's not Jane, somethin's troublin' you, and it can't go unaddressed. We can't have that. You'll either attract trouble to our camp or somebody already livin' in it'll stab you themselves to keep you quiet. Probably your wife."

Guildford sags. He knows she's right—the last thing he wants to be is a liability. He doesn't want to get anyone else hurt or killed. Especially Jane. Jane, who was sentenced to death for marrying him. Jane, who stood in the fire with him, the bond between them even stronger than the rope that wouldn't split. She would die for him. Without question, without thought, without hesitation. But he wouldn't survive getting her killed.

Susannah has fallen silent, apparently waiting for him to suggest a solution. Guildford doesn't know if this is an Ethian thing or just a Susannah thing: allowing that the person with the problem probably knows themselves best. He thinks it's likely that she's wrong in his case, believing himself the picture of stunted self-knowledge and repressed memories. He takes a deep breath. He can't be that man anymore. It doesn't do anyone any good, himself included.

"I keep dreaming she was executed. You and the Ethians don't come, and I can't get free of the ropes, and I see her beheaded." His own throat feels painfully thick as he forces the words out.

"I can see why that'd be botherin' you."

"It nearly happened," Guildford agrees.

"That's not why. I don't think it's about Jane."

"Of course it is!"

But Susannah's shaking her head.

"It's not her who's powerless, it's you. In the dream, you're tethered. Outside the dream, what is it you feel you can't control?"

Slowly, Guildford understands what she's getting at. He answers, "My transformation. My Ethianism." He narrows his eyes at Susannah. "You're very insightful."

"I'm not, actually. You just have a very straightforward problem: mental impotence. See it all the time in men. Tragic affliction."

He catches sight of her smirk and wants to shove her off the log.

"Have the two of you been able to fuck since the near-execution, by the way?" Susannah asks.

"Thank you for the advice, doctor," Guildford says sarcastically, head cocked to one side, "but that is really none of your concern. Try meddling in your own relationship."

"What relationship would that be?"

He frowns.

"Are you and Archer not...?"

"Archer?!" Susannah catches herself and continues more softly. "In his dreams. Not to be insensitive," she adds, making Guildford roll his eyes. "But no, definitely not. Trust me, if he'd been lucky enough to have me in his bed, he wouldn't have been lookin' at..."

It's far too obvious that Susannah has just caught herself again, but Guildford's glad she did. His trust in his wife is absolute. That doesn't mean he would appreciate Archer attempting to come between them. He rises, deciding to forget Archer and focus on Jane.

"Try the sex thing," Susannah says on their parting. "It might help, is all!"

"Try the minding your own business thing!"

Guildford actually does plan on trying something thanks to this conversation, but it's not sex. (Yet. Later? Gods, yes.)

He doesn't try to sleep that night, not yet. He lies on his back in the dark, listening to the low murmur of conversation from the lookouts tending the campfire, to the sound of his own even breathing. He stares up at the trees, their shapes black against the blue-black night. Sometimes, he stares past them at the stars.

Before dawn, Guildford gently rouses Jane from where she sleeps beside him. Between treating the injured and being startled awake by his screams, she hasn't been getting as much rest as she needs, but he hopes she'll understand. Taking her hand, he leads her to a clearing a short distance from the camp. Someplace they'll be able to see the sky change colour ahead of sunrise. They walk with soft steps. The yawn Jane can't stifle has the round, open notes of birdsong. Soon, real birds begin to sing. He wonders whether any Ethians are among them.

Gradually, everything brightens.

"Stand here," Guildford says, taking Jane's hands in his plea, then dropping them and backing off to a safe distance.

She doesn't argue. He's told her about his mother.

Before the light of day can rush across the horizon, Guildford closes his eyes and concentrates. There's no risk of imminent death to compel him now. He has to know if he can do it anyway. Instead of resisting thoughts of the past, he permits himself to recall how it feels to change, concentrating until the sensation is alive in him. Instead of disconnecting from the present, he inhales the earthy scent of the forest, shifts his boots on the ground, knows without looking that Jane is standing where he left her, waiting for him, trusting him.

He changes just before daybreak.

In this form, his hearing is keener, keen enough to pick up Jane's quiet gasp from across the clearing. His own steady breathing expands his strong lungs, drawing in details of his environment that are beyond his human senses. What he likes best is Jane's smile as she approaches him, the soothing strokes of her hands on his face. He stands there on four legs, enjoying her gentle touch and the heat of the sun on his flank, then, closing his eyes to the world once more, Guildford changes back.

He's stumbling forward into Jane's arms before he realizes he never moved away from her before trying to transform. Obviously, his human form is smaller and therefore less of a hazard, but Guildford isn't convinced that was the ruling instinct. It felt more like... he just knew he could do it. He was sure of himself, in that body and in this one, and in whatever he is during the fleeting moment in between.

"Guildford! How did you do that?" she demands, full of awe and urgent curiosity. "I haven't seen you control it since the night we escaped the Tower!"

Yes, that's true. After bearing her away from that place, he turned back into a man. That's how he was when the Ethians found them, and how he remained through the night. At dawn, he despaired, once again becoming a horse against his will. It persisted. Day, horse. Night, man. The terrible dreams. This morning has been Guildford's first time taking the reins, so to speak. It's a colossal relief, and he looks lovingly into Jane's eyes, knowing she understands that much, even if she can't yet explain the rest.

It seems to him that the best words to say are, "I've always wanted to kiss you at daybreak."

"That's a lot of effort for a kiss," Jane observes.

"Then you'd better make it worth it," he retorts with a grin.

And he holds her, and she does.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

One of my main problems with miraculous is the main villain and how little he’s actually doing in story most of the time

Gabriel never truly gains the own self claimed rivalry he has with ladybug, she ruins he’s plans but in most encounters he just sends minions and someone else screws up (all Akumas being very dumb or guillable, a new hero appearing or the heroes genuinely beating him fair and square) like when he used all miraculous and got himself stunned for overusing ALL miraculous like a idiot

Ladybug never truly defeated Hawkmoth (I’m heroes day she needed back up and he ran away, in sentibug he and Mayura ran away, same for miracle queen, her amulets were useless against mega Akumas, she lose the miraculous to Felix, escaped again by cataclysm himself and we all now how the final battle ended) her only wins against him (not a Akuma or goon, HIM) are getting the bunny miraculous back and in one of the world specials in which she had lots and lots of help

Series’s which last more than three seasons has their heroes constantly facing the villain because otherwise the foe will feel nonexistent after they only see it a couple of times in 72 episodes!

They never feel like foes, there’s examples of good villains like this like the emperor which has this constant presence and power and he’s made even better in the prequels when he appears unchanged but has a lot more involvement in the story at the end, just like Gabriel should (starts the events but in the end he triggers the most important things and brings it all to a climax) the problem is how incompetent he is (so he can’t be a master planner) and how weak he’s been portrayed has after season 2, went from beating the main two alone and without a weapon, to losing against POWERLESS TEENAGERS WITH CONDIMENTS WHEN HAVING TWO MIRACULOUS, ONE OF WHICH IS CREATION ITSELF!!! (so he can’t be threatening by power) and Nathalie is the actual brains of the operation making him look incompetent,weak and stupid all at the same time

A villain with a grudge like Gabriel’s would be constantly figthing agaisnt the heroes and losing by ability of the heroes and not by luck

Heroes constantly chasing after him, heroes he has a genuinely hard time facing, heroes who make him lose things (like going to prison, losing Allie’s, losing the Mcguffin, hurting someone beloved to the bad guy like a right hand)

Gabriel can work has villain, but not one who has a obsession like the Joker, or someone you can feel the hate coming from like Eggman, not even a rival’s who have a long story like Bowser

Because by all accounts he shouldn’t care about the heroes, only their miraculous, ladybug has only pushed he’s plans back but never succeeded at even making him lose something

That’s my other problem, Gabriel acts like ladybug won the war when in reality she had only wan battles, but never made any progress (Gabriel was actually the one winning the war with getting rid of the guardian and damning Chloe and having the zodiac miraculous)

He does the bare minimum, is portrayed has a easy to beat trash, the heroes do nothing to beat him making him constantly somewhat win the important battles by doing nothing, and it never feels like there’s a real rivalry or fiendship

Even shows 10 times worse than miraculous Can do actually good villains, even parody’s can make better villains, even telenovelas can make better villains!!!!

Honestly, the show should have just booted Gabriel from the main villain spot by the end of Season 3, maybe Season 4, because at this point, he's long overstayed his welcome, even if he wasn't a complete moron.

I said the Biggest Idiot Award was lifted from Phelous' reviews of Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation, but there's one clip in particular that can be used to explain how inept both the heroes and villains are.

Like you said, the finale clearly tried to make the final battle between Bug Noire and Monarch as epic as possible, like Superman vs Lex Luthor, but Marinette and Gabriel have spent so little time together, you just can't get invested in their supposedly bitter rivalry. Even the finale made a bigger deal about their connection being their respective relationships with Adrien instead of their roles as hero and villain.

[heartsouls]

no plz tell me all your thoughts about the gregory hate so I can reblog it💀

OHHH boy this is gonna be a long one buckle up

Ever since Gregory was first announced I believe most of the fandom have interpreted him as this frail child who was always on the verge of tears and needed G.Freddy’s protection (think C.C 2.0), but once the game came out most ppl were shocked to see this kid actually has a lot of bite to him and kicked ass (ppl’s first reactions to him destroying the animatronics still make me laugh).

This was MY first introduction to him, so I wasn’t completely taken aback but still pleasantly surprised. Most if not all his actions made sense or at least made sense for a 10yr boy to think/act. Giant robots coming after me with the intention to kill (and insulting me for no damn reason)? Yeah I’d probably add an extra kick in there for good measure. Then came the first repair scene, when Vanessa revealed the high possibility of Gregory being an homeless orphan everything just clicked into place for me.

OF COURSE that’s why Gregory was so aggressive, he had to learn how to fight on his own to survive he’d probably had to face even worse than this! He wasn’t going to let that all go to waste bc some weird murderous rabbit lady wanted to drag him into her plans. It explains why he brushed off G.Freddy’s worries about him bc he’s used to have to just keep moving and bare thru pain, especially in an environment where that’s really the ONLY thing you can do. It’s why he’s so blunt and can come off as rude bc he was most likely never taught how to behave “correctly” bc really who has the time?

He was just using all the knowledge he learned on how to survive from a cruel and harsh environment for another. But this time he has an ally for once, an adult (father) figure who actually cares about his wellbeing, it’s no wonder why he became so attached (but struggles to show it bc he’s not used to it). And through all that easily irritable aggression, there are moments to remind us he’s still a kid.

A useless fridge magnet? Yeah that is pretty lame man.

Now imagine my shock when I see others hating on him and calling him a villain. “How could he KILL the poor animatronics? He was so mean, he’s the true monster!” Wh- DID WE WATCH THE SAME GAME? You mean the same animatronics that says he doesn’t have anyone to care about him? Yeah real sweethearts they are. Gregory isn’t a damn monster, he’s a survivor! He’s doing what he only knows best, IT’S TO SURVIVE!

“How could he be so mean to G.Freddy??? Those are his friends! He made Freddy feel bad!” Trust me when I say that Gregory cares about G.Freddy ALOT, did you see his reactions whenever G.Freddy got hurt??? That’s his father thank you very much!

“How could he have killed Vanny in that one ending?! He’s the real villain!” …Do I even need to explain this one?

And ohhhhhh don’t get me started on the awful “bratty gremlin devil” Gregory HCs. Now this isn’t to say that Gregory can’t be a gremlin or whatever. He can be, he is a bit cheeky, but then some started to intensify it and made it his entire personality. No, Gregory wasn’t just itching to rip Roxy’s eyes out or do the next batshit insane thing, he noticed the other upgrades and put two and two together (It gets more weird and slightly disrespectful when they add in the homeless thing as if that automatically makes someone act “feral”….tiktok.)

And then we have the complete opposite where some portray him as what I mentioned in the first paragraph. The poor helpless child who cant handle anything by himself…even though that’s complete bullshit (he’s also usually portrayed to be obnoxiously sweet for some reason). I don’t think many ppl realize how often were not in G.Freddy during SB, and Gregory is described to be quick on his feet and wits (plus his tools) and he doing damn well by himself! [Obviously this isnt to say that he didnt need G.Freddy’s help and protection, ofc he did, he just didnt need to RELY on it like some ppl make it seem he did].

(I know we went a bit off-topic for the last two paragraphs, trust me it connects)

All of this comes down to simply that some just can’t accept the fact that Gregory isn’t their perfect victim. He doesn’t crumble to the floor and beg for G.Freddy to help him up like they want him too. He’s not shy and sheepishly asking for help like they think he’s supposed to. And when they realize that part they try to push him into the other far end where he’s crazy, cold, and cruel. But he’s not. He cares, and he cares deeply. He’s still a little boy, he cried and tried to cover his face when he saw Vanny die. He should be leaping in victory, he killed his killer after all right? But he didn’t, bc despite everything she was still a human being, and he was so scared.

He has complex trauma (duh), he’s not this way or that way, and I get it. It’s hard to write or draw that kind of trauma for Gregory, especially when SB didn’t really give us much. But the way ppl act as if that’s what he actually is is soooooo frustrating. In my opinion the fact that his trauma is so complex and the fact he’s not your typical written victim is what makes him so interesting! And I feel like a lot ppl were slowly getting around to it…

Until GGY and Ruin happened and the hate came back so much worse, Welcome to the real Freddy Hell.

[hold-on-a-little-longer-whump]

Trope: Ignorant Traitor

In lieu of a previous ask, here's a little trope blurb that I love <3

Ah, yes. "The Ignorant Traitor," (which, honestly, could be considered a reversal of "used for bait") in which a character is bugged with a tracking device and unknowingly leads the enemy to their team/friends/family - to the place that was supposed to be a place of solitude and respite from everything. Maybe someone detects the bug in time for everyone to start bugging out, but it's too late, or perhaps they're all caught unawares?

Cue the self-satisfied smile of a victorious Enemy Leader as they stroll through the Team HQ, seeing that their plan had come to fruition after all. They even make a point of singling out the Ignorant Traitor by thanking them, standing taller as they take in everyone's horrified expressions. "Well done! I knew you couldn't be completely useless!" They praise, watching as the team is brought into custody with little resistance because - honestly - where can they run to?

And the whole time the Ignorant Traitor is desperately trying to convince their allies that they didn't know, I had no idea, no, why would you say that? You have to believe me!

Maybe they take the Ignorant Traitor prisoner too, forcing them endure the furious stares and betrayed shaking of heads and muttered resentments. Maybe it's even worse that, when the time comes for them to be separated from their team, nobody objects as they're dragged away.

That, or they're left behind because the Enemy Leader just shrugs, saying "you've served your purpose" or "you've done enough damage" or "do you honestly think I want you, after all the damage you've managed to cause?" or "please, you're more trouble than you're worth." Leaving the Ignorant Traitor, too injured to pursue right away, to shout after their captured team that they'll make this right.

And now the Ignorant Traitor is left to rely on themselves to set any breaks, suture any bleeds, and disinfect and bandage everything on their own. Maybe they're used to it, but it'd hurt even worse if they were accustomed to the whisper-soft touches of the dependable team Medic, of whom their last memory was a disappointed glower that turned away when they had tried to plea their case. It'd be even more gripping if they barely allow themselves time to recover before they're off to fix their mistake. Give me a limping, worn down, emotional wreck of a soldier. They look like hell. They feel like hell. And you could see hell burning in their eyes. Nothing was going to stop them from setting things right.

And the real kicker - after their team has shunned them? It just so happens that a different teammate was responsible for planting the bug on them in the first place - making them the True Traitor. Maybe the Enemy Leader separated them from the imprisoned team under the guise of leverage, to ensure that everyone behaved themselves, when in reality the True Traitor is thriving under the Enemy Leader's control. Now there's another layer of betrayal!

So, the Ignorant Traitor vows to make things right. They soon lose count of failed missions. After all, such a monumental task is nearly impossible when working solo. But even though they retreat with new scars each time, they doggedly continue to work at freeing their old team. Each time they are forced to retreat, the ire within their eyes burns darker. Do they manage to rescue their old team, regardless of their obvious hate? Are they tearfully forgiven or shunned? Are they killed in an attempt, which turned out to be the only successful one, and it is only then that the team discovers that the Ignorant Traitor was innocent after all? Or, my personal favorite, are they horrifically injured in a rescue attempt - during which the truth comes to light about the True Traitor? Can the old team rally amongst themselves and help the Ignorant Traitor? Does their old team manage to save them, or do they only manage to beg for forgiveness as the Ignorant Traitor dies in their arms? An ally turned martyr? Because, regardless... they succeeded. They managed to fulfill the promise they had made at the start of this whole mess - months or even years ago.

Idc if I just handed you a whole ass plot - take it! Take it apart and Frankenstein it back together and mold it to fit your own ideas and share it! I'd like to read more things like this please and thanks!! Even if they're rambling blurbs like this was! My TBR is sparse!! <3

[dragonofthedepths]

In (No) Danger of Going Too Far

Naruto. Senju Hashirama x Uchiha Madara. Vampire AU. Written for @hewoweens as part of the @hashimada-giftexchange!

Madara cannot remember a time when he has not been hungry.

A clan of vampires, the Uchiha have... different dietary requirements from the other clans around them.

A harsh winter that sweeps in early to kill all the crops will not effect them the same way. The same food that fuels humans is little more than padding to them, helping draw out the times between feedings if they have no blood. Only slightly more useful than eating sawdust is to a human.

Even as a child Madara was already used to padding out his diet with human food, leaving as much extra blood for his younger brothers as he could as rations grew tight.

One would think a clan of blooddrinkers could feast, surrounded by blood constantly on the battlefield. But that is blood spilled, the blood of corpses and the dead. As useless and revolting for them as an apple rotted green and slick with slime would be for a human. Utterly devoid of the life they need to feed.

Only live prey will do.

But the hunger of his youth has nothing on the starvation they've been facing recently.

And Madara knows that things have been getting worse and worse since he was a child, their situation deteriorating with every ally his father drove away. That they descended to their current level of struggle long before his recent ascension to clan head.

But he can't help but feel responsible.

Because it is his clan. He swore to protect them with everything he has, and he is doing all he can to dig them out of the hole his father got them into but it's not working fast enough.

He has been giving up even more of his rations recently, pushing them towards Izuna or the children in a desperate bid to keep them alive as they all struggle to survive while he attempts to get their feet back under them, and it is beginning to have consequences.

His blows have less strength behind them, his reaction times dulled, and it's sometimes a struggle to keep his arms from shaking. Not enough to be noticeable against a regular enemy, but it makes running into Senju Hashirama whenever he doesn't have to very inadvisable.

Hashirama is the only challenge to Madara on the battlefield, but an omnipresent one. Especially as the war between the Uchiha and the Senju picks up in the wake of Tajima's death, Senju Butsuma battering them relentlessly with attacks as he seeks to take advantage of any unsteadiness caused by the change in leadership.

Usually, Madara could take advantage of the fact that he's a sensory nin and Hashirama is not to avoid confrontations he can't afford to have. But either the Senju has his chakra completely concealed (coming back from a mission perhaps?) or Madara is even more tired than he thought, because neither of them realize the other is there until it's too late to pretend they haven't seen eachother.

Madara is painfully aware that if he ever could defeat his childhood friend, he cannot now. And that's what leads to him being backed up against a tree —a terrifying position to be in against a mokuton user— with Hashirama looming over him.

"Madara..." Madara almost growls at Hashirama as the Senju heir draws out his name, looking at him with big concerned eyes as though they are something other than enemies

"Madara, you're starving."

"What, are you offering to feed me?" He bites the words out, sarcasm lining his voice. No point in denying something so obvious Hashirama has likely known it for several fights now.

Unlike the harsh tone of Madara's voice, Hashirama's is calm and cool, seriousness replacing the worry of a moment ago. "Yes."

Madara chokes. He must look like a fool, gaping up at Hashirama in the dead silence that follows the Senju's proclamation as his brain tries to process what he just heard.

"Are you insane?!" He demands when he regains the ability to speak. Desperately trying to figure out what the Senju could possibly want out of this, especially as the damn fruit tree reaches up to undo the clasp on his pauldrons.

"Do you still remember, what we talked about as children? Our village?" Hashirama's voice is quite, no need to shout above the din of battle to be heard in this little space amongst the trees where it's only them. "I had never met anyone else who believes in the same things as me. I still haven't."

Hashirama pushes the pauldron off his shoulder and lets it fall to the ground, dropping the pieces of armor made to protect his neck —be it from swinging blades or a vampire's fangs— without a second thought.

"And I know it's more complicated now then when we were children, but you lead your clan now, and it's only a matter of time before I lead mine. I can't do this without you Madara," he finishes, staring Madara in the eyes as though he's never even considered that he might need to fear the sharingan.

It's not fair, to have Hashirama standing over him, talking about dreams and offering him a long buried childhood fantasy on a silver platter. From back when things weren't so bad yet, when he might've been always hungry but he hadn't been starving, and the sting of hunger had been softer, ignoreable. Even if playing with Hashirama —full to bursting with energy and strength, life spilling from his every action— brought it to the forefront.

How many times had he nearly confessed his clan name just to beg for a bite?

It's more than Madara can ignore. Not with Hashirama standing there willingly divesting himself of the armor that would keep him safe from Madara's fangs.

Hashirama lets Madara flip them around, so the Senju is the one pinned to a tree now, Madara's arms caging him in. (Not that a mokuton user with his back against a tree is that much safer if Hashirama does decide to attack.)

They are pressed into eachother's personal space, well within stabbing distance in a way any skilled shinobi should never let an enemy get.

Hashirama tilts his head to expose his neck,

And Madara bites.

He can hear Hashirama's soft gasp as Madara's teeth sink through skin and muscle, then the first taste of Hashirama's blood hits his tongue and he has to stop himself from moaning aloud. It is savory and rich and the first real food Madara has had in ages. Hashirama tilts his head a little more to allow Madara better access and the dizzying euphoria of Hashirama's blood rushing into his mouth almost overwhelms him as he takes swallow after swallow.

Vampires aren't like humans, there is no need to come off of starvation slowly, they are built to gorge.

He is dimly aware of when Hashirama goes from supporting himself to collapsing back against the tree and clutching the back of Madara's robes, but it still takes a moment for him to register what that means.

Fuck. Rationality pushes back against the mess of instincts and bloodlust. He has to stop. Humans can only loose so much blood, and if he takes anymore Hashirama will die and he can't— he can't loose him.

The cold wash of fear is enough to unseat the desperate need for more from it's throne and he pulls back.

One of Hashirama's hands comes up to tug him back down before he gets very far. Tangling in Madara's hair and urging him back towards his neck with more strength than a man who's just lost almost half his blood should possess.

"I can heal, remember?"

Right, Hashirama's damn healing factor.

The one that let him be stabbed through the lung as a teenager and just keep fighting the sword's extremely surprised owner, now using the very katana he'd just been stabbed by. (That was still Hashirama's favorite sword. It was a very good sword.)

Of course that would extend to blood loss as well. Of course—

Madara lets Hashirama pull him back down, and this time he looses himself in the dizzying rush, attempting to bury himself in Hashirama's warmth as he greedily sucks down all the blood, all the life Hashirama is willing to give him.

He's not sure how long it is before he releases Hashirama's neck for the second time. This time he lingers, letting his breath ghost across Hashirama's skin. No need to pull back before he gives in to the urge to bite again.

When he finally does pull away it's not far, only just far enough that he can look into Hashirma's eyes again, before he shifts his weight so that he's leaning against the tree as well. Bringing his arms around from Hashirama's shoulders to cradle the back of his head as he lets them slide down the tree, until they're both collapsed onto the roots at the bottom, all tangled up together.

One of Hashirama's hands comes up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing across his face to wipe away his tears as he leans forward until his forehead is resting against Madara's.

Madara's not sure when he started crying, but he can't bring himself to stop now. The sheer overwhelming relief of being fed, of being full, for the first time in his life is too much.

They're both breathing heavily, and for all that Madara isn't supposed to need to it feels incredible. There's a rush in his veins and a pounding in his chest, and he's never felt warm like this before; not the quick burning flash of katon, but suffused throughout him. Like part of the sunshine he can see in Hashirama every time he smiles has been tucked into Madara to keep the cold away.

There's that same blinding smile aimed at him now, and leaning in is easy, pressing lips against lips. First in a brief, feather-light kiss, then again in a stronger, surer one as they find their place against eachother.

Madara can still taste the blood coating his mouth, but that doesn't seem to deter Hashirama in the slightest.

And it's wonderful. A confirmation that everything that was between them as boys still is, as though Hashirama letting him drink from him wasn't all that and more.

Curled up together, sharing breath, sharing warmth, sharing life, Madara can see the future like he hasn't been able to since he was a child.

Senju Butsuma needs to die soon.

Bonus:

"Madara," Izuna hisses as Madara stumbles blood-drunk back into the compound, "what did you do?! Eat a village???"

[quasi-normalcy]

[iwriteloveletters]

Yandere Eren Yeager Head canons

Season 1-3

At first it was a simple childish crush on you, being that you two were about 7-8 years old when you first met. You two were partnered for a school assignment and ever since then you were now apart of the trio that consisted of his two other friends Mikasa and Armin.

Eren was of course in denial of these feelings given that he was young and was in his girls are gross era but his mom would always tease him about it and constantly ask about you, always having you over and even having sleep overs.

Like Mikasa you grew to be somewhat protective over him, he was always getting hurt and you (who wanted to be a doctor) always had bandages and whatever else Grisha gave you for small cuts on hand. That only made his feelings grow stronger. It was innocent in the beginning.

After the walls were breached and witnessing his mothers death was when he truly became infatuated with you, he never let you out of his sight. He was alone now which meant he had a lot more responsibilities, you and enlisting in the military were those responsibilities. He would give you portions of his food even though Mikasa and you advised against it, held your hand at all times, and never EVER took his eyes off of you. You knew it too, but you brushed it off because you had bigger things to worry about; you lost your family yourself. You were 10 years old and alone in the world, all hopes for becoming a doctor who studied under Grisha Yeager down the drain. You weren’t worried about Eren at the moment.

When you realized your friends were planning to join the military it sparked inspiration in you (you were impressionable at that age) and God Eren did not like that. But you were a stubborn person therefore what’s done was done, you were joining them and later on the Survey Corps.

The entire time while training he made sure to keep you under his radar, he would go as far as to make sure you weren't around anyone other than the people he trusted because "people can be just as dangerous as titans." You let him have this one moment because you understood he might've had complex issues stemming from his mothers death and fathers disappearance. Similar to Mikasa and her attachment to Eren you thought to yourself. It was not even close to it.

You weren't as gifted compared to the others but you still managed to graduate, you made it and you made it into the Survey Corps, he had practically commanded you to join the Military Police. But you knew what you wanted and you weren't gonna let him stop you.

Over the next few years his infatuation with you only grew stronger and stronger. Things quickly took a turn for a worse.

Season 4

His need to isolate you overpowers his need to anything. The outside world wasn't what was hoped and his ability to see the future didn't put him at ease.

Before he ran away for Marely he pulled Mikasa to the side to tell her to keep you away from everyone, especially their Marleyan allies. He trusted none of them even if they put their trust within him. The same way he didn't trust people on his own island

During his time with you on Paradis it almost felt suffocating so it felt nice to be free from him, Mikasa never respected his wishes to keep you away from the world so you truly got that break. You lived for the first time in years, thinking of your dear friend Eren here and there; almost missing him and the way he always held your hand and praised you for the little things you did.

When you all come back for him in Marely your newfound peace is stripped from you completely. His focus only being on you, protecting his own life, and inheriting the war hammer titan.

He would eventually send Yeagarist after you in an attempt to lock you up similar to how he locked up his friends. But instead of being around the ones you both cared for, it was just you in a lonely and cold cell.

"You're useless." He would talk down on you, "You're useless and you know that, you barely make it out of missions alive. You need me." He would convince you. And you listened to him.

[coraniaid]

Do you think Kendra's Watcher knew Drusilla was destined to kill her when he sent her to Sunnydale? Was Sam Zabuto surprised when his Slayer came back alive the first time? Was he surprised when she didn't come back the second time?

Think about What's My Line? and Becoming from Kendra's point of view. Compare it to Buffy's experience of fighting the Master in Season 1's Prophecy Girl, especially if she hadn't stumbled on Angel and Giles talking about her behind her back.

Buffy's Watcher knows that Sunnydale is on a Hellmouth, and that a terrible evil is about to rise from it. A very dark power, you might say. The Master. Giles has been preparing Buffy to fight the Master all year, trying to track down as much information as he can about the Master and all the "salient books of Slayer prophecy". Thanks to Angel, he tracks down a copy of Pergamum Codex. He cross-checks it against "all [his] other volumes". It's very plain: the Master shall rise, and the Slayer shall die.

He doesn't want to believe it. Isn't it his duty to protect her? But, as he said in Nightmares, just a couple of episodes earlier, when confronted with a vision of her death: "[Buffy] was so gifted. And the evil was so great." He knows what will happen if the Master rises. Buffy wants to quit, but Giles urges her not to.

"Were you even going to tell me?" Buffy asks Giles when she finds out, and he doesn't say yes. He was "hoping that he wouldn't have to". He was looking for "some way around it". But he also knows that the prophecy says that Buffy was going to face the Master tomorrow. That doesn't leave him a lot of time left to let her know. He'd already passed up on at least one chance to tell her.

And when Buffy does go to fight the Master, after she loses and he has the Slayer hypnotized and helpless and moments away from death, what happens? The vampire taunts her with the prospect that this was all for nothing; that her actions were worse than useless. That he can only escape the Hellmouth at all because of the strength he'll get from feeding on her. "You heard the prophecy [...] and you came to stop me. But prophecies are tricky creatures [...] You're the one that sets me free."

Now back to Kendra and Drusilla.

Why is Kendra in Sunnydale at all in What's My Line? It's not to save Buffy from the Order of Taraka, although she does do that. Kendra wasn't told that Buffy even existed; maybe Mr Zabuto didn't know about Buffy either. But Kendra, she tells us herself, was sent to Sunnydale "for a reason". Her Watcher told her that "all the signs indicate[d] that a very dark power [was] about to rise in Sunnydale".

Doesn't that sound ... familiar? It's almost the same reason Kendra will give again in Becoming for why she's been sent back in Sunnydale, too. Just like Giles, Sam Zabuto has been looking for prophecies and portents. And maybe, just like Giles, there were some details in those prophecies he was hoping against hope he wouldn't ever have to tell his Slayer.

If Kendra's "dark power" is meant to be Drusilla -- honestly, it could easily be Angel losing his soul or the Judge or even Acathla, I think, but Drusilla is the threat everyone in Sunnydale assumes the signs are warning Mr Zabuto about -- it's also worth noting that Kendra doesn't actually mange to do anything to stop her. Spike succeeds in his mission to restore Drusilla to health. Yes, Kendra does some good, but she doesn't achieve the aim her mission apparently sent her to Sunnydale to complete. The dark power still rises.

Worse, if Kendra doesn't come to Sunnydale, she doesn't make the (frankly very odd) decision to lock Angel up in an eastern-facing room in Willy's Place (despite apparently being able to sense that the bar's owner is "dirty" and potentially in league with vampires). You have to wonder if "leave defeated and vulnerable vampires alive for hours and in a strong position to be rescued by their nearby allies, while you go off hunting for more potential vampires" is the sort of advice the Slayer Handbook gives its readers, and if so whether maybe this means Giles was right not to use it for Buffy's training. But if Angel isn't weak and helpess waiting for the sun to come up, Willy obviously can't hand him over to Spike. If it came to it, could Spike or any of his underlings expect to beat Angel is a straight fight? Could they track him down in time? Do they even know where he lives?

If Kendra doesn't come to Sunnydale, does the ritual to restore Drusilla to full health even happen? Does the newly restored Drusilla decide to re-assemble the scattered pieces of the Judge? Do Buffy and Angel risk their lives trying to stop this from happening? Does Angel abandon this objective to jump into the water and rescue Buffy? Does he take her back to his place to recover? Does Angel lose his soul? Do Angel and Drusilla unearth Acathla? Does Kendra get sent back to Sunnydale for a second time?

Is it that much of a stretch to imagine Drusilla leaning in close to Kendra -- while the Slayer is hypnotised and helpess and moments away from death -- and reminding her that prophecies are tricky creatures? To imagine her whispering that "You heard the prophecy and you came to stop me ... but you're the one who set me free"?

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

All through season 3, I was looking for reasons to let go of Tech, but hope just wouldn't die and until the finale I still thought there was a chance Tech would turn out to be alive and well. Even with this hope I found it... odd... that the show skipped over the inevitable conversation between Omega and Crosshair with Crosshair learning what happened to Tech. So I wrote this just a few days after the season 3 premiere and posted it to AO3 since I didn't have tumblr at the time. I'm posting it here now, mostly because the past few days this blog has turned into one of my ways of fully processing Tech's death.

NOTE: the first two sections are scenes directly from the show. I included them to clarify the timeline of events and add some detail as to what I imagine was informing Crosshair's thoughts and remarks during the second scene in particular.

Revelation

“Crosshair!”

No. It couldn’t be.

“Crosshair?”

He must still be dreaming, stuck in the nightmare…

“Crosshair?”

The voice sounded just like Omega, but that would mean Omega was here. And if Omega were here, that would mean his brothers…

“You must be Omega.” He knew that voice, and Emerie Karr’s statement removed all doubt.

“What did you do to Crosshair?” he heard Omega reply.

“He’s recovering. I tried to warn him what would happen if he did not cooperate with the doctor….”

He kept his eyes closed, feigning continued unconsciousness, wishing he had never awoken.

**********

“Crosshair. I tried to come earlier, but there were too many guards watching me.”

Crosshair sighed. He had noticed Omega’s attempts to catch his attention when they passed each other in the halls, and had deliberately ignored her. He couldn’t very well do so now. “You shouldn’t be down here at all.”

“Well, how else are we gonna plan an escape?”

Where did the kid get her unfailing optimism? But hope was useless here – worse than useless. Best to disabuse her of any fanciful notions before she was crushed any further by the weight of disappointment. “There is no ‘we,’” he replied curtly as he sat up to face her, “and there is no escape. I’ve already tried.”

He wouldn’t tell her the details of what had happened: that the primary objective of his “escape attempt” had been to warn his brothers about the danger they and Omega were in. Omega hadn’t yet told him whether the message had been received, and Crosshair had no inclination to broach the subject. Believing he had failed in getting the message to his brothers was easier to stomach than knowing the message had been delivered yet still yielded this outcome.

Thankfully, Omega didn’t probe for details – she was still too focused on the prospect of freedom. “Every stronghold has a weak point,” she was saying now, before adding thoughtfully, “Maybe I can convince Emerie to help. She’s one of us.”

No. This had to be nipped in the bud. If Crosshair managed to teach the kid anything, it had to be this, the one crucial lesson that was even more important than learning that hope was pointless. “Not every clone is your ally,” he warned her firmly. “You trust too easily.”

Omega looked taken aback for only a second before resisting the lesson. “Maybe you don’t trust enough,” she retorted.

Crosshair wished he could think of precisely what to say to convince her of her errors in judgment, but his hand started shaking… Blast, he thought as he gripped his hands together, hoping Omega hadn’t noticed.

“Crosshair?” she said gently; and he knew she had noticed. Yet more proof that hope was useless.

He wouldn’t let her see any more. He didn’t need any more reminders of his shortcomings, his failures, his mistakes, his losses. If he couldn’t teach the kid just how futile it was to hope and trust, maybe he could at least convince her to stop doing things that would put her in more danger. “Just… go, before you make things worse for both of us.”

Omega hesitated only briefly before turning to leave, and Crosshair thought that maybe he had succeeded – but then she spoke once more. “There has to be a way out of here,” she said, determination adding a layer of steel to her tone. “I’ll find it.”

**********

“You’re awake,” she said cheerfully as she sat cross-legged on the floor.

Crosshair didn’t reply, only fixed her with a sullen stare that did nothing to dampen her spirits.

“No one said anything after I came here last time, so I think I might be able to keep visiting you,” Omega went on. “Of course, we’ll have to be discreet when discussing some topics…”

He couldn’t ignore her when he was stuck in a cell, and she was going to keep visiting… “Why are you here?”  he cut in sharply.

Omega paused mid-sentence, the slight crease that appeared on her forehead attesting to her confusion even as she gamely shifted topics. “I… well, I don’t have an escape plan yet, but I thought I could…”

“No,” he brusquely interrupted her again, waving his arm to gesture toward the hallway in an attempt to make his meaning clear. “Why are you here, on Tantiss?”

“The Empire captured me,” she answered in a low voice. “I think they want me to make Nala Se cooperate with them.”

Crosshair growled in frustration at the kid again missing the meaning of his query – he had to know, but that wouldn’t make the knowledge any easier to bear. He tried one more time, “What happened?”

Omega went perfectly still, and Crosshair’s heart sank. This is precisely why he had avoided asking about his brothers’ fates; but not knowing meant he could only imagine the worst possibilities. He didn’t let a shred of emotion show on his face, however, as his sister finally moved to reposition herself so she was no longer directly facing him, instead sitting in profile, gazing down the hallway as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

“We… Tech was going through some intel for Echo when he found out you were captured, and then he found the message you sent to warn us. We were trying to track Hemlock’s ship so we could find you. We knew Hemlock would be meeting with Tarkin on Eriadu, so we infiltrated the base to place a tracker on his ship. But…” she faltered, then everything spilled out in a flood of words. “Everything went wrong. We tried to escape, but there was an explosion at the base that left us trapped in a rail car with Imperial troops and ships attacking us. Tech was on the rail line to fix the car and he tried to make it back, but the car was breaking in half and falling off the track, and then the added weight…” Her voice broke, and she took a shuddering breath before soldiering on, “Tech fell, he severed the connection to the broken half of the car and he wouldn’t let us save him…”

The words were like shrapnel ripping through his heart. Hemlock seemed to think the interrogation droids were one of the most effective means of inflicting pain; the experiments were mentally and physically relentless, excruciating, exhausting; but this… This was true torture.

Omega had paused in an effort to regain her composure, wrapping her arms ever more tightly around her knees in an effort to stop shaking. Determinedly looking at the floor, she continued her story, her voice cutting through the void of Crosshair’s bereavement and bringing him back to the current situation with a painful jolt. The way she was rushing and stammering through her story, Crosshair could tell this was the first time she was really thinking about it, the first time she was allowing herself to relive the tragedy, reopening the painful wounds of this memory just so she could satiate his need to know.

He didn’t want to know any more – the worst thing he’d imagined had happened to one of his brothers. But he couldn’t manage to speak, couldn’t beg Omega to stop talking…

“Tech’s repairs worked, the car started moving, but we crashed and… I don’t remember much after that… I woke up and Hunter and Wrecker and I had all been bandaged up by AZI. Then Hemlock found us. Hunter told me to run, but I couldn’t leave them.” Omega’s chin was shaking so hard Crosshair wasn’t sure how she was managing to still speak so clearly. “Hemlock captured Wrecker and Hunter, and I tried to stop him, but one of his guards stunned me and I woke up on Hemlock’s ship.” She paused again; Crosshair, outwardly still and silent as stone, inwardly reeling from pain and shock, only peripherally noticed her bring her hand to her cheek to wipe away tears. “I had sent AZI to get Echo, though, so maybe Hunter and Wrecker managed to escape.”

The flash of relief upon hearing that Hunter and Wrecker and Echo might still be alive disappeared almost before Crosshair felt it, suppressed under the massive weight of sudden loss.

Tech.

Crosshair had always pretended to be even more annoyed than the others when Tech spouted off three datapads’ worth of information on the most mundane topics, but secretly he had been fascinated by how smart his brother was, how Tech not only knew the information but could seamlessly apply it to improve almost any situation. Hunter was the one with heightened senses, but Tech sometimes seemed even more skilled than Hunter in knowing exactly what Crosshair needed without Crosshair needing to say a word – and, being the most reticent member of the group, Crosshair couldn’t say he ever minded.

That was the thing about Tech: when it came to any given topic – including his brothers – Tech didn’t just know, he understood.

Crosshair didn’t have Tech’s skill in this area, but he knew and understood his brother well enough to fill in the details himself. Omega had said Tech had been the one to discover Crosshair’s imprisonment and the message, which meant Tech would have been the one to bring the fact to the squad’s attention, comb through intel that led to the discovery of Hemlock’s existence, and join the push for a rescue mission to be mounted despite the warning the message conveyed.

Omega and Crosshair now sat in silence for what may have been hours, may have been seconds – he would never be able to tell – before Omega spoke again. Despite the tears still silently falling down her face, her voice took on its signature hopeful note. “Maybe we can…”

‘Maybe’ was dangerous territory, and Crosshair – sick to his stomach, burning with regret and shame, broken and empty with no recourse available to him – could not let Omega continue. Tech was dead, and Crosshair could not allow himself to entertain the idea that maybe his remaining brothers were actually okay. ‘Maybe’ meant hope. Hope meant more pain.

“No,” he said, so sharply that Omega finally turned to look at him. The sight of her tear-streaked yet resolute face only deepened his agony. “No more plans. Can’t you see? It’s over.”

“But if Hunter and Wrecker escaped, that would mean…”

“NO,” he said again, glaring at the kid.

He wasn’t going to say anything else; but suddenly a sentence from Omega’s story struck home - we were trying to track Hemlock’s ship so we could find you – and his thoughts, his deepest regret, took form in words and slipped through his mouth before he could stop himself. “I told you to run. I told you all to hide. Why didn’t you hide?”

Omega’s eyes softened, and her sympathy made him drop his gaze to the floor. “Because we’re a squad,” she replied softly, “we’re family, and we don’t leave anyone behind.”

“Look where that got you,” Crosshair retorted bitterly. Look where that got Tech, he thought.

Footsteps sounding in a distant hallway seemed to remind Omega that she did not have unlimited time to spend on visits, and she hurriedly wiped her face again as she got to her feet. She didn’t immediately depart, however; and Crosshair, feeling her gaze on him, refused to look up.

“You’re worth the risk, Crosshair,” she said simply. “Tech thought so too.”

He remained as he was, staring at the floor, numb and broken and alone, long after she had gone.

**********          

“Crosshair? Are you awake?”

He gave a prolonged sigh in an effort to cover the fact that a tiny part of him was actually glad she had come to visit – it had been several weeks since the last one, and he had started to wonder if she had been outright forbidden from seeing him. “What does it matter? You’re going to talk anyway.”

She hesitated briefly. “If you need to rest, I can come back later…”

He groaned a little as he sat up – this round of experiments was leaving him increasingly sore, but he would never admit this to anyone, least of all Omega: she would spend the entire visit fretting about him. “It’s fine. I’m already awake.”

She regarded him for several long seconds before kneeling in front of his cell. “Sorry it took so long for me to come back. Nala Se kept giving me additional assignments. I think that phase of experimentation is over now. They don’t tell me much about what the experiments are, though.” She was quiet for a moment, before continuing, “I like taking care of the hounds a lot more than helping in the lab. Batcher is finally warming up to me – she doesn’t try to bite me anymore when I feed her. Oh, K9X1 finally told me a little more about the hounds…”

Crosshair listened as Omega continued talking about all the details she had learned about the species – their origins, development, life cycle, characteristics, and more – and wondered why he felt such a bittersweet ache in his chest…

Omega’s chatter reminded him of Tech.

Identifying the cause made the ache grow more potent, and Crosshair almost snapped at Omega to leave so he could busy himself with forgetting the tragedy. Over the past few weeks, he had thought he had come to terms with the loss of his brother – the shame, regret, and emptiness no longer felt like they would completely consume him – but in moments like these the pain would return in full force, and it was almost too much to bear.

And yet – right now, the ache wasn’t just bitterness and sorrow. There was a hint of solace, a touch of comfort, the warmth of nostalgia and happy memories, that took the edge off the pain. And, somehow, this comfort came from Omega.

Despite what Omega had said, he knew he didn’t deserve the risk his squad had taken for him. Tech shouldn’t have died for him, Omega shouldn’t have been captured because of him, the others shouldn’t be facing dangers unknown because of him. Knowing this, he wouldn’t let anyone else take such a risk for him again.

But Omega was feeling the loss of Tech just as much as he was. She had lost her brother, just as he had.

Crosshair wouldn’t encourage her insane ideas of the both of them managing to escape together; but if these visits made her current captivity easier to bear, he wouldn’t send her away.

Resting his forehead on his hands, he sat and listened to his sister.

[merbear25]

Hi, can you do war prisoner f!reader in WWII with Axis Powers please?

Hello, hello! I sure can! This was fun to write, honestly so thanks for sending this in. I thought it would work better to have it be a collective instead of individually, so I hope my gut was right and you enjoy what I’ve written for you. 💜💜

CW: SFW, fem!reader, reader is a prisoner of war, headcanons

Prisoner of war (Axis)

You were sent to spy on them by the Allies. Going all out with your disguise, you successfully infiltrated their base. While you were snooping through some of the more classified information, Italy stumbled upon you.

“I didn’t know such a pretty lady was here!”

He started fawning over you, paying you compliment after compliment, which of course was making it hard to continue gathering information.

You tried getting him off your back by telling him you’d love to continue chatting later—in a more private setting. However, that just made everything worse for you.

He couldn’t stop gushing about how excited he was to see you later. With his volume echoing through the camp, your predicament eventually got the attention of Germany.

Panicking, you tried your best to flee, but with Italy paying you so much attention, it was useless. Germany knew instantly you were not meant to be there and promptly dragged you to the holding cell.

While you sat in the cell, tied up so as not to give them any surprises, Italy was sobbing to Germany that this was no way to treat a lady. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he painstakingly reminded Italy time and time again that you were their enemy and shouldn’t be given special treatment. This back and forth between them was making you realize that if there was going to be any interrogation, it couldn’t be any worse than listening to this.

When the doorknob turned, they both greeted Japan, who was holding some documents. Thumbing through some of them, he pointed a few bits of vital information on you.

“She seems to work for the Allies. They must have sent her here.”

“To collect secrets, no doubt,” Germany said sternly.

“What should we do with her then?” Italy’s gaze reverted back to that doe-like expression when he turned to you.

“Interrogate her of course.” The blonde spoke to the Italian in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yes, it would be a good idea to get any potential secrets from her,” Japan agreed.

As you sat there helplessly witnessing their plans for you unfold, you couldn’t help but regret having agreed to this plan.

[rachetmath]

Jaune Vol 10 Character Analysis

You know what I planned to make this a few pages long, but screw it, let’s talk about it. In Volume 10, I want Jaune to have that same energy back in Volumes 9 and 6. I’m sorry, but after everything Jaune has been through should not go back to being a comic relief character. No, not a chance, considering they're in the kingdom of Vacuo.

Vacuo, the desert kingdom might as well be the crime invested, savage, and brutal nation in all of Remnant. And this was the best place to bring thousands of people to? Imagine the amount of stress Jaune will be under due to the amount of work needed just to have stability. And he just got back from the Ever After. Imagine how hard it will be for him to readjust to Remnant, especially if the people start losing faith in the hunters. Not only that despite being reverted to the age he left in, he still is mentally older than everyone else. 

Remember what Jaune’s mother told him, “A stranger is a friend you haven't met yet.” Well, that’s debatable now after being betrayed by so many people. So imagine Jaune thinking twice about trusting anyone, regardless of good intentions. Hell, have him question Emerald so she can prove herself or his allies for a change considering they barely do anything for him. Either way, Jaune… won’t be as trusting as before. 

Next, after failing his friends multiple times at least story-wise…Jaune might as well be more obsessed with getting stronger than ever before. Even though Weiss, Yang, and Blake slightly helped him, it’s not enough to help him move past the amount of pain he went through like isolation, paranoia, and self-doubt. These things can make Jaune question himself, and lead him to want to quit, leaving the hunter world for good. Or die. This isn’t a good idea, considering Jaune is needed and is a hero in other people's eyes. (Jaune has been doing a better job than most characters, despite being the weakest in the group.) 

Sadly, his friends may be unable to talk to him about it. I’m talking about Ren and Nora, mainly due to relating. But it's because they are both horrible teammates. 

Okay, I explain my beef with these two. Ren and Nora, I tolerated at the beginning volumes. However, after volumes four to eight, I got frustrated with them enough that I didn’t mind if either of them or both of them died. Jaune always has to be there for both of them but neither is there for him when he truly needs them. I get it he is their leader but still. And before you all say “Ren and Nora have moments with Jaune.” My counterpoint is that most of them are forgettable and were outweighed by their other actions. Don’t believe me? Then let us discuss the volumes.

In volume four, it’s crazy that Ruby knows what Jaune has been doing more than his team. Let’s not forget during a fight with a Nuckalavee they were conversing while Jaune and Ruby were fighting for their lives. Look I understand, the Nuckalavee killed Ren’s parents but still. And don’t get me started on how they were willing to stand aside in the fight with Tyrian. At least Jaune was trying to help in response to Ruby jumping in between Qrow and Tyrian’s fight by herself.

Volume five, not going to lie, Nora was worried about Jaune but that was in a trap set up by Cinder and Raven. And to make matters worse they fought one man together while Jaune faced a maiden alone. Then when Jaune was healing Weiss, not knowing how long it would take, the moment Ren got hurt, Nora rushed in to help him, knowing Jaune may need protection. (I know it was under Jaune’s orders but come on.)

Volume six…. No. Let us skip this because even though it was a bad time, at least Nora and Ren said the sweetest thing ever. It’s too bad I can’t say those same words held up for volume seven. Nora and Ren were barely with Jaune at all. Jaune is more with Oscar than they were combined. Then they were useless in the fight with Neo and argued half the volume onto volume eight.

In volume eight, I truly started hating these two even more. Nora seems to care more about Oscar, to the where she has hugged him more than once, while I don’t recall one time she ever hugs Jaune. So far, in many volumes, she was straight-up rude to him. And even when he and Ren return from almost certain death she never says “Hi” and after healing her, Nora and Ren start having their moment again. Nora never said “Thank you”.

Speaking of Ren, we can’t forget this man calling Jaune out like he did, over something they all agreed to do. Understand, the circumstances they were in. Oscar got kidnapped by an unknown enemy. They were in a snow field with no shelter insight and they could die. All while Oscar was in enemy clutches with no way to reach him. With the facts in mind, was addressing any of what Ren said, important? “No. Why?” because not only was it not of any importance, there were too many counterpoints to his statements.

And what makes this worse, is when the portal to Vacuo, appears before them, they immediately use Jaune as a test subject instead of Emerald. Nope, these two are unless to Jaune if he starts going on the deep end. Emerald and Oscar might be a better choice than either of them. Hell, I’ll take the red-haired woman over them. I want Raven to talk to him or at least Qrow. 

I want Raven to come back and talk to him, due to being one of the same. The only difference is Jaune’s actions were based on circumstances, while Raven’s were purely by choice. Imagine Raven telling Jaune every cruel thing she’s ever done. And how some of the decisions she’s made in her life, caused her more grief and hardship than good. She tells Jaune not to make the same mistakes she did. Telling him to press forward despite everything he has gone through. I wouldn’t mind if Raven bothers to train him if Jaune asks of her. And if that can't happen then give that role to Qrow. However, there is one person Jaune needs to stay away from and kill. Tyrian.  

Tyrian is one of those toxic individuals, who will use and manipulate people to do things recklessly. Like I said before, the people's faith in the hunters could be diminishing. People like Tyrian will take advantage of this by using violence and chaos as a solution. When it's simply him pushing his own agenda. Tyrian was already interested in Jaune, but he never expressed why. Tyrian, in theory was like Jaune but life changed him somehow to be a monster. Jaune who's already close to insanity might as well be another reason fueling Tyrian’s curiosity. Tyrian wants to see how long it will take to break the knight’s spirit until he becomes just like him. Or push him to become another ally for Salem. Basically, instead of like Marco where he just forgets and moves on with his life, Jaune, I agree, becomes more like Samurai Jack. Or in this case, Odysseus, who I probably talk about later.

Samurai Jack, as many know was a Samurai, sent to the future and out for revenge against a demon known as Aku. He has experienced multiple failures, especially trying to find a way home to the past. Soon, he lost all chances of getting home to his family. And to make matters worse, he loses his sword and his way. This led to Jack being on the run and hiding from Aku. Sending him into a downward spiral as he felt all hope was lost. It wasn't until he met Ashi and remembered the good he had done for the people is when he rose to fight again, overcoming his demons. Odysseus, on the other hand, learns a different lesson. Again later.

If that’s the direction Jaune’s character is taking, then these are the requirements. Jaune moves on and embraces the reality that he isn’t the same person he once was before the Ever After. And he needs to find his strength once again. Planning and making better choices than the supposed headmasters and rulers of the world. And the best way to do that is to work on himself while separating from the group. What I’m theorizing is, when Alyx said “You’re not meant to be the hero.”, what could she have meant by it? Probably because while being a hero is good, being a ruler and leader for the people is a lot better.

[caesariawritesstuff]

Promise

Summary: Beaten and bruised from a skirmish with Batman, Edward returns home and asks you to promise him one thing.

Content Warning: Angst, Blood & Violence, Descriptions of injuries

Word Count: 1.2k

● Ao3 ● X ● Retrospring ● Read on Ao3 ●

It’s past midnight. Edward hasn’t been back for hours. You’re laying in bed, trying to get some sleep, but it’s useless. He’s been gone too long. And only a short while ago did you see the Bat-Signal flash into the sky. For most people, it would’ve been a symbol of hope. But for you, it represented everything you hated.

Knowing Edward was out there now, potentially being arrested and shipped back off to Arkham…you couldn’t bear it. Not again. Too many times you’d watched him be hauled off, taken under custody – and never gently, either, always treated so inhumanely. Bruised, bloodied, broken. It’s always you who has to pick up the pieces.

Finally forgoing sleep and with a frustrated heave, you threw the blankets off yourself and let them pile in a heap on the floor. You stood and ran a hand through your hair, eyes straying back to the window. The Bat-Signal was gone now, leaving behind empty darkness in its wake. You sighed, wandering into the kitchen, near the phone, wondering whether it’d be Arkham or the GCPD calling to tell you he’d been apprehended. Anxiety twisted in your gut, and you swallowed down a wave of nausea, putting your head in your hands.

This couldn’t be happening again. You didn’t know how much longer you could bear the waiting, the wondering if this would finally be the night the Dark Knight snapped and lost control, finally beat Edward to such a pulp that he ended up dead. The thought is horrifying, overtaking you like a wild storm, when you hear several loud bangs. You gasped and whipped around, hurrying over to the front door. Through the peep hole, you spotted Edward leaning against the wall.

“Edward!” you gasped, flinging the door open.

He practically stumbled into your arms, catching himself on the doorframe. His nose is busted, already mottled blue and yellow. Blood streamed down his nose and across his upper lip, into his mouth, staining his teeth red. There are several cuts to his forearms and the front of his green suit is ripped, his tie undone, glasses askew. He looks worse than last time. He doesn’t speak, he’s breathing too heavy for words. Sweat coated his brow and down into his chest. You gently grabbed him by the forearm and led him inside, slamming the door behind him.

“What did Batman do to you?” you asked. Even you’re shocked at the Dark Knight’s brutality.

Edward laughed, a low chuckle deep in his throat. “What he always does. Uses his fists instead of his mind,” he answered, sarcastic venom dripping in his tone.

You helped him into the apartment and over to the kitchen table, onto the seat. He hissed between his teeth, clutching his ribs. Blood dripped onto the floor, and you ran into the bathroom, quickly yanking out the first aid kit hiding under the sink. When you return, you found Edward still in his spot, head in his hands.

“He did it again,” he whispered, so low you barely heard him. “He bested me. He beat me. At my own game.” He laughed, high and broken. “Can you believe it?”

No, you couldn’t. For as much as a genius as Edward was, each time the Dark Knight managed to outsmart him, you could never understand why. Edward was right: he had to be cheating. He always had some tool or gadget or ally at the ready to come and save the day. And it was cheating; Batman shouldn’t be allowed to call in assistance whenever he felt like it.

Irritation flickered inside of you, but you were quiet as you filled a bowl with warm water and grabbed a rag. “You can’t keep doing this, Eddie,” you said.

He scoffed. “I’m not going to stop until Batman is dead.”

“And what happens if you die first?” you asked, the words tumbling out of your mouth. Hot and angry, dripping like acid. You spun on your heels to find him staring wide-eyed at you.

“Batman doesn’t kill,” he said quietly. “You know this. Everyone does.”

“I don’t care if Batman doesn’t kill,” you said, approaching him. You rested the bowl onto the table, dipping the rag into it. Slowly, you got on your knees, gently grabbing his wrist, and wiped the blood from his arm. “I care that he beats you. I care that you come stumbling home like this. I don’t…”

The words hang heavy on your tongue. I don’t know if I can do this anymore. They’re right there, in your grasp. Words you’ve thought of so many times before. How much longer can you keep going on like this? Keep tending to his wounds, driving him to clinics so his broken bones can be mended, bailing him out of jail? This has been your life for years, ever since you decided to follow him down this path into the criminal underworld…and at what cost?

“You don’t what?” he asked, an edge in his tone.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, turning your attention back to his wounds. You looked away from his burning stare, wiping the blood from his arms, placing gauze and bandages over his cuts. Some might need stitches and you sighed; again, you’d be the one to stich him up.

He sighed, licking the blood from his mouth. “Don’t you want to know how he did it? Don’t you want to know how he cheated?”

“How, Eddie?” you asked, though the truth was that you weren’t really listening, not as he rambled on about some newfangled gadget Batman suddenly pulled from his toolbelt. Instead, your mind wandered to…other things. Wondering if you were finally at your breaking point.

Because as much as you loved him, you couldn’t bear to see him walk down this path any longer.

He cleared his throat, and you looked up at him once more. Slowly, with blood-stained fingertips, he reached downward and grabbed your chin, forcing you to stare into his eyes. “What’s going through that little mind of yours?”

Ah, of course he noticed that you weren’t listening. He noticed everything. Edward was far too observant for you to get away with anything. But, you set the rag aside and finally stood up.

“It’s nothing,” you said again, because you couldn’t find the strength to say the words. “I’m just tired.”

He was quiet, studying you. But he leaned forward, placing his hands on your waist and pulled you into his lap. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, strong arms wrapping tightly around you.

He whispered your name. “I love you more than you’ll ever know,” he said, his breath in your ear, lips kissing against your skin. “Promise you’ll never leave.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. You weren’t an idiot – you knew what he was asking. And the pain in his voice, the utter desperation, was so raw and real. Foreign words out of his mouth, but they were enough. Perhaps he’d somehow found the bags tucked away in the back of the closet that you’d stashed away months ago, the last time he came home like this. Your back-up plan, just in case. Your heart felt like it was being squeezed by a fist. As much as you hated this – hated being put in this position – you loved him too much to walk away.

“I promise,” you whispered, lifting your head to kiss him. He tasted of blood and sweat, but you didn’t care. Because no matter what happened, no matter what state he came in next time Batman beat him, you had no intention of breaking your promise.