#did he ignore the blood

[marcobodtlives]

Do you think Jean was the cadet who had to carry Marco’s body to the pyre?

[mouseshift]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

While you were fighting in the war, I was falling in a pit.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[just-null]

HELLO HANTENGU NATION (5 people)

I'VE MADE AN [unofficial] HEIGHT CHART FOR MYSELF

Hantengu: 5"5 (166cm) Sekido: 5"9 (175cm) Karaku: 5"9 (175cm) Urogi: 5"9 (175cm) Aizetsu: 5"9 (174cm) Zohakuten: 5"3 (160cm) Urami: 8"5 (257cm)

[little aftermath under the cut]

they're so annoying. peace is nonexistent... they're the best ever.

[starry-bi-sky]

danny and officer martinez's relationship in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" in a nutshell:

Martinez: FREAK! GET YOUR FUCKING KID!

Battinson, on the other side of the crime scene: he don't bite

Martinez, with Nightingale firmly attached his arm, visibly biting him: YES HE DO!

*points at them* Danny is the Bugs Bunny to Martinez's Elmer Fudd.

Another Officer: i can't believe you're fighting with an actual twelve year old. Martinez: i swear to god that is not a twelve year old, that is a little hellion that crawled out of batman's shadow one dark and stormy night and decided to dedicate his existence to tormenting me. Officer: Are you really that mad about him putting a sticky note on your back-- Martinez: thats not the point

in danny's defense: the word "freak" is. a mini beserker button for him for.... obvious ghostly reasons, so like, even if its not directed at him, he still very much unappreciates Martinez's insults at Battinson. Danny may or may not be projecting.

he's not going to hurt the guy! not in any serious or permanently disfiguring way at least! But he is going to leave mean sticky notes on the square part of his spine that he can't reach, and stick salt in his 3AM Late Night Crime Scene Coffee, and kick the bottom of his heel while he's walking so he stumbles. And other petty, infuriating things that tally up and boil over, over time.

[snekdood]

"if we make america worse and more of a dictatorship that will be even harder to unravel and make it the way we want the country to be, maybe then everyone will join our Glorious Revolution!" bb girl you cant even be in the same room with someone who thinks you should vote, how in tf do you think you're gonna unite people to fight in The Revolution with you? it's gonna be you and your 5 friends, i hate to break it to you.

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

No... How can this be?

Daddy’s favorite wine sippy cup...

Now I’m going to have to drink it out of the box like a fucking animal!

You’ve taken everything from me, Machine.

And now we’re going to get drunk together.

That’s right, the only way to repay me for your sins and the breaking of my favorite wine glass, is to finish off this box of wine with me!

And we’re going to have conversations that we think are deep only because we're drunk off our asses.

And by dawn's light, who knows, maybe enemies will be turned into…

EVEN STRONGER FUCKING ENEMIES I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.

Audio source

[thebramblewood]

Everyone say congratulations to the new uncle! Thank you @itcrescentcrow for your lovely Veronica Aurelius, whose story inspired me to have Vlad start a vampire family of his own (for entirely unspiteful reasons, I'm sure).

P.S. Join the fan club if you haven't already!

Previous / Next

Caleb: [startled] Jesus Christ!

Vlad: [wryly] Guess again. I couldn’t help noticing you’ve acquired a new… houseguest. That girl is freshly turned. She has all the grace of a newborn colt. Your sister’s latest plaything, I presume?

Caleb: How many times have I told you I’m not interested in indulging your desire for gossip? Anyone with a modicum of social grace would have taken the hint by now.

Vlad: [continues, unruffled] The curious thing is I’ve seen her before, the girl, at your insipid little gathering of hedonists in the spring. Her cheeks were much rosier then, as I recall. I’m surprised Lilith offered her the dark gift so soon — or at all. Does she not expect to grow bored of this one? Or, I wonder, did something not go precisely according to plan?

Caleb: [defensively] Lilith didn’t turn her. She nearly killed her. I did it to save her life.

Vlad: [amused] Always the humanitarian, you — though it is strange you would choose to burden another with an existence you clearly detest. But I must admit I’m impressed. I wasn’t sure you had it in you. Frankly, I rather thought you’d be dead or driven to madness by now. [sighs stagily] At any rate, I wish you luck. If you’re hoping to raise her in your image, you’ll need it. I can’t imagine Lilith will surrender her easily. Alas, I must go. There are other matters-

Veronica: [snarls aggressively]

Caleb: Who are you?

Vlad: Manners, darling.

Veronica: Sorry, Uncle Vlad. My dinner almost got away from me.

Vlad: [strangely paternalistic] Isn’t she a marvel?

Caleb: Uncle Vlad?

Vlad: This is my niece, Veronica. Well, cousin several times removed, but that’s such a mouthful. I’ve been trying to introduce her for some time.

Caleb: I must have mistaken that for your usual garden variety creeping.

Vlad: We have a common ancestor in my maker, though the bloodlines diverged centuries ago and hers was thought to be quite diluted. You see, after generations of tamping down their vampiric nature, their powers had largely grown dormant. But Veronica is special. She tells me her dreams led her to me. Can you believe it? [chuckles] I haven’t dreamed since I was mortal. At any rate, I’ve taken her under my wing. I have much to teach her, and she is an eager pupil.

Caleb: Good… for you.

Lilith, looking out on them from the window: He has a WHAT?!?

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 119

Another divine twitch chat Au? Another divine twitch chat Au. With a bit of a twist. 

Billy would like to say it is in fact not his fault. It’s really not. Who hits someone with magic they obviously don’t know how to use? Well okay maybe he had done that before, but it’s not like he ever did it around other people where they could get hit! 

But someone was an idiot and now he’s here, as his normal ten-year old self kicking his legs while sitting in the Watchtower as the others argued. Apparently the League thinks he’s been de-aged, which is good as his secret isn’t out. 

The uh, issue is that something about the spell might have um, partially manifested the gods- or as he called them the Mediterranean Magic Men, if only because of how annoyed it made Zeus. Now everyone can see the chat that’s usually only visible to him and apparently it’s concerning. 

He doesn’t see how it’s an issue, Zeus has been silenced for the next hour and Hercules has been dying of laughter for the last three. Oh, wait, it might be from Mercury’s constant attempted flirting with Flash. …Or the fact they’re trying to convince him to commit a crime and he’s honestly down for doing so seeing as he’s a homeless ten year old who is down for getting clairvoyance and super speed for the next thirty minutes in exchange…

[sporeclan]

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Love in the air, blood on the soil

[chessb0r3d]

i cracked the code.

[danytheconqueror-jonthewhitewolf]

[mishy-mashy]

Something I made in a post that I think'll be lost in the texts + expanded a bit more

These panels are chronological events following AFO's pursuit of Yoichi's Factor.

AFO could tell if people were related through a Quirk. AFO and OFA also are connected to each other. In Kamino, AFO could confidently tell All Might that OFA had been passed on, so all that All Might had left were leftover embers.

When AFO killed Kudo, he asked where Yoichi was. He knew Kudo wasn't the holder of Yoichi's Factor at that time. He also realized when looking at Yoichi's hand that Yoichi's natural Factor was so weak he hadn't registered its existence. This implies AFO could sense Factors since he was young, and Yoichi's natural Factor never stood out to him.

Below are three panels of Bruce (right to left). Bruce fought, AFO killed him, and looked away in disinterest.

When he beat down Bruce, he already had a sense that Bruce didn't hold the Factor anymore. That's why, rather than yell in his face to figure out where it is and interrogate for a long time, he pulled up his corpse to inspect him better.

Bruce's corpse isn't resisting anything. Look at his feet; AFO literally dragged him. Bruce is already dead. Yet he's looking for something from him.

Bruce doesn't have anything for him. Nothing AFO wants.

When he looks away, he's dismissing Bruce, because Bruce doesn't hold Yoichi. AFO is wondering where Yoichi is, because he knows now that he's out there somewhere. Thus the pensive look to the wind.

After Bruce is killed, AFO and Garaki meet for the first time. Shinomori has Yoichi at this time, and AFO never comes close to him, so AFO is lost. He doesn't have any leads, and Yoichi has vanished.

Now that he knows Yoichi can transfer, it's possible for Yoichi to be kept out of his reach for the rest of his life. So meeting Garaki and having access to Life Force gives AFO more time to search.

Yoichi is still missing for 18 years though, because Shinomori is in hiding. AFO couldn't find him during the Fourth's turn.

This is why, when he encounters Banjo, the Fifth and active wielder of OFA [Yoichi], AFO is smiling.

It's been a long time, but Yoichi's in reach again. He knows where he is now. And this is the first time he's encountered the current holder.

Thus his shock.

[Yet... you never behave as I wish.]

It was the first time a Quirk wouldn't let itself be stolen. This was AFO's first encounter with this wall: it doesn't transfer without the holder's consent, and requires willpower stronger than all the holders combined to override that.

The holder is never going to give him that consent. To override the collective willpower, he's going to need something greater.

Meanwhile, look at Banjo's arms. Shinomori is the catalyst to tip OFA over the edge, that an unprepared vessel will be destroyed by how strong the Quirk is.

Banjo's arms are both messed up below the shoulder, just like Midoriya used to be. And like Midoriya uses Blackwhip to reinforce himself and stay standing, Banjo uses Blackwhip to hold his fist / arm together. His hand is being wrapped to stay in a fist.

(What I think is) The reason the limbs turn red, and then purple, from breakage, is a matter of blood vessels. Small, itty bitty, fragile things.

Using OFA breaks the whole area, from bones to blood vessels, causing internal bleeding. Thus the redness. But breaking those vessels again in a second go turns the area purple, because it causes instantaneous internal bruising.

But En wasn't ripped apart by using OFA. There's a cut on his thumb that lines up with the path of destruction; AFO sliced him in half. Otherwise, he wouldn't have that cut if it were just OFA.

It's hidden by the text in [... you never behave as I wish], but depending on where you see this chapter, you can see he got cut on the thumb. It's clearer where we see Nana take his hair from him, in [I only want... to make you mine!]

I have a post in drafts about En being cut in half rather than it being because of OFA, but I also hit an image limit, so I'm gonna end here. Ta.

[chocolix76]

Word count: 1,358

Dads are not supposed to be giant humanoid yellow rabbits with sunken blue eyes. Most of all, dads are not supposed to be robotic murderers.

Those were the only thoughts running through Oswald’s mind as he paced back and forth across his room, occasionally pausing as he listened for the tell tale metal thumps of the rabbit’s footsteps. The thing that was pretending to be his dad. 

Just a few weeks ago, Oswald was sitting at a dirty wooden table at Jeff’s Pizzeria daydreaming about his first day in sixth grade. What new friends would he make when most of the town left after the mill closed? How much homework would he get in middle school? Oswald didn’t know that his life would soon be turned upside down by a time traveling ball pit and a killer robot that wanted to be his dad. This whole experience gave a new meaning to a saying his mother loved to abuse. Be careful what you wish for.

Minutes blended into an hour, Oswald pacing back and forth across his dimly lit room brainstorming ideas of how to get his father back without the rabbit catching him first. The rabbit had every opportunity to kill him by now. So why hadn’t it? Before he had the chance to grasp at reasons why the rabbit was playing with him like a cat before slaughtering its prey, Oswald heard the signature stomping of the rabbit approaching his bedroom. His breath caught in his throat as he immediately dove under his bed just as the robot slowly opened the door.

Light from the hallway poured into Oswald’s room, the rabbit’s massive figure casting a horrific shadow across his bed. As the robot lumbered into his room, its large head swiveling around in search of Oswald, he covered his mouth and nose with the palm of his hand attempting to muffle the sound of his ragged breathing. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and for a moment, he feared the rabbit could hear it too. This was the end. He had nowhere to run and his mom was at work. For a fleeting moment he wondered how long it would take for his mother to find his body. Maybe the rabbit would erase him from her memory altogether.

Through the fringes of Oswald’s yellow and green checkered bedspread, he could see the rabbit approaching the side of the bed. Beads of sweat erupted on his forehead, his entire body trembling as the silence of the room was broken by the ear splitting squeaks of metal in severe need of oiling as the rabbit lowered itself to one knee. A large, yellow hand lifted up the bedspread, the rabbit’s piercing blue eyes illuminating the underside of the bed.

Bits and pieces of what he had seen through the doorway the night the rabbit stole his father away flashed before Oswald’s eyes. Five children not much younger than he were lying on the white and black checkered floor. Blood that nearly looked black in the dim lighting coating the floor and walls, staining the children’s clothing. None of them were moving. One body was facing the door, the corpse’s unseeing brown eyes boring into Oswald’s soul. He was next. He would become the sixth victim of the rabbit’s massacre. However, instead of grabbing Oswald’s arm and pulling him out from under the bed, the rabbit made a beckoning motion, stepping back to give him space to climb out from his hiding spot.

“What do you want from me?” Oswald demanded, hating how his voice wavered and cracked and how his body still trembled so violently he wasn’t confident his legs would be able to hold him. 

He wasn’t sure how he expected the rabbit to respond considering it couldn’t speak, or at least never made an effort to speak before, but it calmly motioning towards his desk was the last thing he expected. When caught between doing what the rabbit asked or risking facing its wrath, Oswald decided climbing out from under the bed and allowing himself to be guided towards his desk was the safest option.

The rabbit patted the swivel chair Oswald had picked out on a shopping trip with his parents before it took a seat on a wooden chair it had borrowed from the kitchen. The wood creaked and groaned under the robot’s weight, but the rabbit paid it no mind. It simply sat there patiently waiting for Oswald to sit down, its head tilted ever so slightly.

As Oswald slowly sat down, keeping the rabbit in his peripheral vision, he noticed that the robot had taken out a lined piece of paper and the instructions to his history essay, laying it neatly on the desk. Oswald glanced from the empty piece of paper to the rabbit who looked at him expectantly. Almost innocently. He fought back the urge to laugh, or cry, about the absurdity of it all. This was not his father, so why was it pretending to be? Was this some sort of cruel game?

He tried to take a pen to paper simply to please the imposter, terrified that his head would be crushed between the rabbit’s large, flat teeth if he didn’t do what he was asked. A few agonizing minutes ticked by, his mind unable to conjure any useful information to put together an introduction paragraph. All he could think of was the animatronic rabbit sitting within arms reach. It was impossible to focus like this and, somehow, the rabbit caught on.

In an eerie mimicry of a sigh, the rabbit placed one large hand on Oswald’s shoulder, leading him out of his seat and down the hallway with an almost parental care. Oswald wanted nothing more than to scream and run away, but that would do him more harm than good. The rabbit led Oswald to the dining room, pulling out a chair for him to sit down before disappearing into the kitchen.

The scratchy sound of distorted humming wafted from the kitchen along with the sounds of the rabbit rummaging around through the cabinets. Oswald glanced over his shoulder at the front door, wondering how easy it would be to slip through the rabbit’s fingers and escape to the pizzeria to have another crack at saving his father. However, what harm could humoring the rabbit do? Maybe it would make things a little easier on his end if the rabbit believed that Oswald had somewhat accepted him. 

The banging around in the cabinets soon came to an end as the rabbit produced a tray covered in snacks, placing the tray in front of Oswald before gently ruffling his hair with a giant hand. Air caught in Oswald’s throat as he stared down at the tray in front of him, imagining it as a giant pizza box. Was this the rabbit’s way of luring him into being its next victim, or was this the rabbit being genuinely kind? 

“Why are you being so nice to me? I saw you mur-…I saw you kidnap my dad. Why are you trying to help me with my homework and…do all this?” Oswald asked, staring at the rabbit expectantly. After a few seconds, he felt a bit stupid interrogating the mute animatronic. However, if it really wanted to answer, maybe it could write something down for him.

Instead, the rabbit simply shrugged. It nudged the tray closer to him, Oswald barely able to process the fact that the tray was neatly decorated with baby carrots and apple slices, a bag of chips sitting in the corner. Noticing something purple peeking out from underneath the bag of chips, Oswald moved it aside to see that the rabbit had drawn a little heart on a purple sticky note, along with a childish portrait of Oswald underneath. Abruptly, any trace of an appetite vanished as he stared at the sticky note in terror, unsure if it was a taunt or a genuine proclamation of parental affection. At this point, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

All he knew was that he needed to get his real dad back and soon.

[manderleyfire]

I will do all this, I will get all this blood on my hands, and you are able to plead naivety.

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumptober day 5- Secrets Reveal

Alright buckle up folks this one is a wild ride. It’s a bit longer and not suuuuper well written but hey, I hope the action isn’t clunky 😭 action is HARD

Warnings: blood, control, walking off a cliff, injury, idk it’s a dark one😭

~~~~

The ruins were a maze. There were some open areas with broken walls scattered about, but there were also labyrinths of walls that led into different rooms or to cliff sides that almost killed Leon. He and Linebeck tried desperately to find Rusl and Kass, but no matter how much they called or how much they searched the area, there was no sign of them. Leon was getting more and more worried for them, not knowing if they were being attacked now or if they were dead, but he prayed it wasn’t the latter. When they ran into yet another dead end, Leon groaned, smacking the brick with his hand in frustration.

“This is taking too long!” He turned to Linebeck. “Boost me up the wall, I need a better view.”

Linebeck nodded and put his hands together, kneeling to the ground so Leon could climb on. Leon was boosted up to the top of the broken wall, and he scrambled over it so he could stand on his feet. The walls were thick, so he didn’t have to balance too much, but the snow was slick, so he couldn’t be careless. He kneeled and planted his feet the best he could, reaching for Linebeck’s hand.

“Uh, I think I’ll just stay down here,” he muttered, not taking Leon’s hand.

“I’m not leaving you alone, now get up here!” Leon commanded, and Linebeck sighed, taking his hand and crawling up the wall. The man clearly did not like being on top of the tall walls, and his legs shook as he followed Leon along the wall. It was nice being able to see above the ruins, but he couldn’t catch sight of Rusl’s green scarf or Kass’s blue feathers. He treaded carefully, being sure to make sure the steps in front of him didn’t send him slipping off onto the ground, but he did try to move as quickly as he was able. Linebeck suddenly grabbed onto him, nearly causing him to lose balance.

“Linebeck!” He scolded, pulling away from the man.

“Sorry, I slipped and almost died,” he explained, his voice shaky.

“Well don’t grab onto me or else we’ll both fall!”

“I had to hang onto something!”

Leon rolled his eyes and continued. “You won’t die if you fall, it’s not that high up. Honestly you need to toughen up. It’ll be hard to fall anyw—“

Leon’s foot slipped underneath him, and he gasped as he fell on his back and toppled over onto the snowy ground. The landing wasn’t painful in the snow, but his back ached from where it hit the wall. He sat up, rubbing his spine to alleviate the pain while Linebeck stared at him. Leon looked up, giving him a threatening look.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” he warned, but Linebeck finally snorted, covering his mouth as he laughed at Leon.

“Oh, it’ll be hard to fall, huh?” He taunted, continuing to chuckle while Leon dusted snow out of his hair.

“Quiet before I knock you over!” Leon threatened, but as usual with his threats, they were empty. Leon stood and reached his hand up. “Help me.”

Linebeck sighed and kneeled carefully on the wall, reaching only for him to pull back to readjust his legs.

“Linebeck, what are you doing?” Leon exasperated.

“I’m just trying to make sure I don’t fall over when I help you up!” He defended, continuing to readjust himself. Leon groaned and looked behind him, where he was barely able to see a green scarf disappear behind a wall. He gasped and pulled away just as Linebeck reached out once again.

“Rusl!” He shouted, but the man didn’t respond. Leon turned to Linebeck and gestured for him to get on the ground. “Get down here, hurry!”

“O-ok,” Linebeck muttered, shakily and slowly crawling down the wall. Leon rolled his eyes and grabbed onto his coat, pulling him down so he’d fall onto the soft snow. Linebeck yelped as he fell, and he gave Leon a dirty look when he sat up, but the man ignored it and instead dragged the sailor to where he saw Rusl. He was afraid that Rusl didn’t hear him with his small ears, and that he would lose him in this labyrinth, but to his relief, he found Rusl in a yard area near a cliffside. Rusl was standing, staring at the view in front of him which was odd, but Rusl was an odd man, so Leon ignored the behavior out of his mind and jogged up to him.

“Thank the goddesses I found you,” Leon said, just a few feet behind him. “Where’s Kass?”

Rusl didn’t respond, he just kept staring. Leon squinted his eyes and gave Linebeck a look, stopping him from stepping closer.

“Rusl, what’s going on?” Leon pressed, stepping more cautiously towards him. He reached his hand out to rest on his shoulders, but as soon as he touched him, Rusl spun around, the blade of his sword missing him by a hair as Leon jumped back. A gasp was heard from Linebeck, and Leon drew his own sword, barely able to block Rusl’s attacks.

“Rusl! What the heck man!” Linebeck shouted, and Leon kicked his friend away, jumping in front of the sailor.

“This has to be the puppeteer’s work,” he said, holding his sword against Rusl who stared at him with a hostile look. It gave him chills, but he knew that it couldn’t be the real Rusl. The puppeteer always had puppets that he would use against them. Several times copies of his friends or others would attack him, but the puppets were always weak. One kick or stab and they would melt into the clay they were made out of. It really wasn’t a threat to them, but it didn’t make it any less disturbing seeing his kind-hearted friend look at him with hatred and bloodlust in his eyes. Leon glanced back at Linebeck, pushing him back further behind him.

“I’ll take care of this,” he explained, “stay back and stay safe.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Linebeck muttered, and rushed back behind a wall. Leon returned his attention to the puppet, who was pacing back and forth. He only hoped the real Rusl was somewhere safe.

As soon as Leon was ready to fight, puppet Rusl charged at him, once again swinging his sword at him. Leon dodged and swung his own sword, which was quickly blocked. The two clashed weapons together, sparks flying and ears ringing from the high pitched sound of metal scraping against each other. It was difficult to get the upper hand; puppet Rusl would swing his sword, Leon would block, and then he would try to land a hit, only for him to block it as well. Leon would try to get an opening large enough for him to throw a punch or kick, since puppets tend to fall apart from that type of force, but puppet Rusl would recover quickly enough to stop him from trying. While trying to land a hit with an opening, puppet Rusl almost lobbed off his head, and Leon growled as he swung his leg to trip puppet Rusl. He landed in the snow and Leon scrambled to his feet to finish him once and for all, but he once again recovered quickly, rolling out of Leon’s reach. Losing his patience, Leon ran up to him, kicking him as quickly as he could, which he was finally successful in doing. Puppet Rusl grunted against the impact, and while he was distracted, Leon swung his sword. The puppet dodged, but the tip of Leon’s sword grazed his cheek, and he toppled back from the hit.

Leon let out a satisfied huff, glancing at his sword. But where he was expecting the strange goop the puppets were made out of, he saw blood, dripping off the tip and landing in the snow, staining it red. Wait…

Dread clenched Leon’s throat as he stared in horror. Puppets weren’t supposed to bleed. He glanced up only to see Rusl grinning at him, blood pouring from the cut on his cheek.

“Why so surprised?” He asked in a mocking tone, stepping up and punching him hard in the face. Leon fell back, staring at his friend who now walked confidently. Confident to know that they weren’t fighting to the death anymore… or… at least Leon wasn’t. This wasn’t a puppet made to look like Rusl, it was Rusl who was the puppet.

“You—“ Leon snarled, anger towards the puppeteer stronger than ever. “How dare you use him like that!”

Rusl grinned, swinging his sword at Leon who dodged. It was like that for a while, with Rusl attacking while Leon dodged, terrified of raising his sword at his friend. He didn’t know what to do. How was he going to break the puppeteer’s grasp on Rusl? How was he going to keep himself from getting killed without hurting Rusl? When Rusl sliced his cheek, Leon ran back, taking cover where Linebeck sat anxiously.

“What the heck is happening?” Linebeck asked, and Leon let out a huff, trying to clear his head.

“The-the puppeteer is controlling him!” He explained, moving Linebeck as they ran from possessed Rusl.

“He can do that?”

“Yes… I… I don’t know what to do.”

A rock was thrown in their direction, and Leon ducked down with Linebeck following.

“We need to go after the puppeteer if he’s the one controlling him,” Linebeck suggested. Leon nodded, pulling the man behind a wall and grabbing both his arms to look him in the eyes.

“It’s the only way, but I want you to stay here out of sight. I’m going to try to lead him away from you and find the puppeteer—“

“You can’t go off on your own! What are you, stupid?” Linebeck protested, stepping away from the wall, but Leon held him back.

“I’m not risking you getting hurt, now stay right here and—“

Linebeck suddenly grabbed Leon and pulled both of them away as Rusl appeared behind him, swinging his sword at them. The metallic shriek of his sword hitting the brick wall rang out, and the two fell onto the snow. Leon scrambled to get on top of Linebeck, just in time to block the attacks raining onto them. As soon as Rusl left an opening, Leon lunged, latching onto the man in an attempt to tackle him to the ground, but Rusl was stubborn and remained on his feet. They wrestled for a moment before Rusl pulled his arm away, stabbing his sword at Leon. There was a slight, sharp pain in his side, but Leon ignored it as he grabbed Rusl’s sword arm and pulled him close. In one motion, he tilted his sword so his hilt was facing Rusl, and he slammed it into his abdomen. It was a trick that he learned that could knock out his opponent for several minutes, and he prayed that it would work on Rusl so he’d stop attacking.

Rusl stumbled back, his eyes blinking furiously and he stared dazed at the ground, but soon his body lurched towards Leon, continuing his attacks. It was clear that Rusl was unconscious from the move, but the puppeteer still had control of his body, with the attacks more vicious than before. Had Rusl been holding back the entire time? Did Leon just make things worse trying to knock out his friend? He gasped and cursed as he nearly had his head lobbed off again, trying to keep up with the flurry of attacks aimed at him. It was difficult to keep up with, and he let out a yell as his foot caught on a rock, sending him to the ground. He couldn’t react in time as he watched Rusl raise his sword, his eyes still dazed, and he flinched as it was swung down.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Leon looked up to see Linebeck grabbing hold of Rusl, stopping his attack and pulling him away. Rusl squirmed violently in his hold, his arms swinging around in an attempt to grab at Linebeck, but he remained firm and kept him off the ground. Leon scrambled to his feet just as Rusl elbowed Linebeck’s face, causing him to finally be dropped. He was about to stab Linebeck before Leon wrapped his arms around him, the two men trying to contain Rusl. Finally, he broke free, staggering back and panting heavily as he glared at Leon and Linebeck. Leon had his sword drawn, protecting himself and Linebeck.

“Get out of my friend’s head,” Leon said in a dark voice, stepping closer to him, which caused Rusl to step back. This time, Rusl ran with Leon following, and they found each other in an open area by a cliffside. Rusl continued to pant, his body clearly pushed past its limits. His eyes were empty, but a hint of defeat and anger rested in his expression as he watched Leon like a cornered animal. In one last attempt of victory, he charged at Leon, swinging his sword down on his head, which Leon blocked easily. He twisted his sword around and sent Rusl’s sword flying out of his hands, and he was finally unarmed. Linebeck ran to the discarded sword and picked it up, standing defensively. Rusl quickly backed up, looking around desperately, until he let out a defeated sigh.

“I can’t kill you with him as my weapon,” he muttered, standing up straight. Leon brought his sword up again, expecting another attack. “But I can kill him.”

He was too far for Leon to reach as he stepped backwards, letting himself fall off the edge of the cliffside.

“NO!” Leon screamed as he sprinted to catch him, but it was too late. He could only watch, his stomach plummeting as Rusl fell out of his view, falling to the snowy ground below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hallway Kass was walking through was drastically different from the rest of the ruins. The inside was perfectly intact with it leading to several different rooms, the torches were lit up giving out a soft orange glow, and it was generally clean. Kass looked in every room, but the puppeteer wasn’t anywhere, and he was beginning to question if he actually saw the man walk in here or not. But he heard a voice that spoke a few times that proved to Kass that he wasn’t alone, and he followed to where he heard it. Kass didn’t have the good hearing Hylians had, but the talking was able to lead him to a small closet under the stairs. Kass opened it as softly as he could, spotting the puppeteer who had his back turned to Kass, hunched over a blue light coming from his hands. He was breathing heavily, with a few grunts coming from him, and he didn’t seem to hear Kass walking carefully towards him. Kass picked up a rock, his heart pounding against his chest as he hesitated near the puppeteer. He could kill him here and now…. But….

Kass was always a pacifist. He wanted to play music, not to fight; he wanted to sing for his family, not to shoot a bow. But he couldn’t let the puppeteer go, he couldn’t let him continue torturing the men and the Links. Kass sucked in a breath and raised the rock, looking away as he swung it down on the puppeteer’s head. He let out a grunt as he tumbled to the ground, the light from his hands disappearing. Kass backed up from the puppeteer as he scrambled to his feet, rubbing his head painfully. His one-eyed mask glanced up at Kass, staring almost as if he were in shock from what he did to him.

“Y-you—where did—augh!” The puppeteer held his head where he was hit, pressing himself up against the wall. Kass glared at him and used his height to his advantage, trying to intimidate the man.

“You attacked us first!”

The puppeteer stared at him, clearly shocked, but he scrambled to his feet, standing in a defensive position despite clearly being disoriented.

“And what was your plan?” He asked cooly.

“Where are the Links?”

“Clearly not here.”

Kass glared, stepping closer. “Why did you attack me?”

The puppeteer cocked his head to the side.

“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?”

Kass frowned, not knowing how to respond to such a strange comment. The puppeteer shook his head, sliding on the wall.

“I wasn’t expecting such a…violent action from you,” he started, before letting out a dark chuckle. “It was a valiant effort, but… you were too late.”

Kass’s eyes widened when the puppeteer suddenly lunged at him, a knife in his hand. He let out a yelp as he fell, and he brought his talons out and scratched at his face. His claws landed a hit on the puppeteer’s face, tearing his mask and chunks of skin off, causing the man to cry out in pain. The puppeteer fell off of him and quickly collected his mask before disappearing in a puff of smoke, leaving Kass alone. He scrambled to his talons and bolted out of the ruins, the puppeteer’s words echoing through his mind.

You were too late.

Too late? Too late for what? He took flight as soon as he went outside, ignoring the pain in his left wing. In the air, he searched the area, trying to find the others as quickly as he could, and to his dismay, he found them.

All of them at the base of a cliff side, with one laying on his back.

No.

Kass landed next to them, his breathing heavy as he stared at Leon hunched over Rusl. No, no no no…

“Wh-what happened?” He asked frantically, his voice already breaking. Leon barely acknowledged him, his face blank as he checked Rusl’s pulse, but Linebeck turned to the Rito, his face pale.

“Th-the puppeteer was controlling him and… he—he threw Rusl off the cliff and—“

Linebeck’s breath hitched, and Kass’s eyes widened. He was too late.

“He’s… is he…?”

“He’s not dead,” Leon said simply, checking over the rest of Rusl’s body. Kass let out a sigh of relief, noticing Rusl’s shallow breathing, though it hurt to hear him struggle to breath. “He’s terribly injured though. The snow cushioned his fall, but not enough.”

Leon rested back on his feet, not taking his eyes off his friend. It grew uncomfortably silent, the only sound being Rusl taking in rattling breaths. His ribs must’ve been broken.

“What do we do?” Linebeck asked, kneeling next to Leon, and he let out a breath.

“We… I…” Leon frowned as he tried to think of something, but he took in a deep breath, then let it out, then sucked in another one, letting it free after a few seconds. He did that for a moment with Kass and Linebeck watching him, and he finally stopped, his eyes on Kass.

“We need to get him down to Talon, but it’s too risky to carry him in such a state,” he began to explain, “his neck could be broken, so… Kass… if I could make a stretcher that you could carry so you could fly him down the mountain—“

“Of course, I can do that,” Kass jumped in, ignoring his aching wing. It wasn’t broken, and he could easily glide down the mountain if it meant saving his friend. Leon nodded and hunched over Rusl again, whose eyes were fluttering open.

“You stay alive, you hear me?” He ordered, and Rusl blinked a few times before closing them, Kass assuming that it was a nod. Leon got up and gestured for Kass to help him, and with Linebeck keeping an eye on Rusl, the two searched the ruins for rope and planks. Fortunately it wasn’t too difficult to find, and Leon built a sturdy stretcher with rope attached to a branch that Kass could hang onto. With enough wiggling to make sure it wouldn’t fall apart, the two returned to Linebeck and Rusl. Linebeck was cradling his neck, the two shivering as the sun dropped behind the mountains.

“Help me put him on there,” Leon muttered, setting the stretcher down and grabbing Rusl’s legs. Kass helped lift him up while Linebeck continued to cradle his neck, but Rusl still hissed in pain. Leon took off his scarf and wrapped it around Rusl’s neck when he was set down, his eyes open again but looking glassy as he stared at the sky. The scarf was packed firmly to keep his neck from moving, and Leon took off his coat as well to tuck around the shivering man.

“Woah woah, Leon, what are you doing?” Linebeck cut in, but Leon ignored him as he began to wrap rope around Rusl to keep him secure to the stretcher. Linebeck put his hand on Leon to get his attention. “You’re gonna get hypothermia without your coat!”

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of his work. Finally, he tied ropes around the stretcher so that it would be even when lifted off, and he grabbed the end for Kass to hang onto with his talons. “Be careful with him.”

Kass nodded as he grabbed the end, but frowned at the two. “What about you guys? I can't leave you stranded on the mountain.”

“We’ll be fine,” Leon reassured, “but Rusl needs help now. Please just… make sure he’s ok.”

Kass was hesitant, but he knew realistically that he couldn’t carry all of them with Rusl severely injured, even with a wing that didn’t hurt. He stood up, taking to the skies as gently as possible, with Leon and Linebeck helping him keep Rusl steady. Soon, he was high up in the sky, gliding carefully down the mountain, with Leon and Linebeck growing smaller and smaller until they were but little dark spots on the white snow.