#fighting evil sometimes only works by fighting fire with fire after all…

[avirael]

What type of villain are you?

Thank you dear @candycryptids and @ubejamjar for tagging me in this.

It’s a very interesting thing to think about and although I didn’t understand some of the questions very well the results seem pretty accurate 😅

A’viloh Tia

The Coward

You didn't have another choice, honest! Have these people SEEN what the heroes are up against? It'd end you in an instant, whether that be a lovecraftian abomination with a hold on your soul, a rampaging monster that's destroying more than a hurricane and an earthquake could in one fell swoop, a shadow organization that has tabs on everyone you love and will end them in an instant, or just a particularly grumpy boss that might yell at you if you don't fall in with his excessively tyrannical methods, you can't go risking your neck for the poor saps that think they can stop it. No way, you're staying on the bad guy side, where it's SAFE.

Rael Hyskaris

No Moral Compass

You are cold, analytical, and you strive to be as objective as a person of flesh and blood can be. Either don't understand the concepts of good and evil, or you understand it perfectly and think it's a load of bull. Some may call you selfish, some may call you unfeeling, but you're just doing what you believe will yield the best results, plain and simple. Why bother with petty ideals of right or wrong when you can do what will actively help those you give a fuck about? Your goals may be selfish or noble or anything in between, but you will not let anyone make you feel like garbage for going after them. You couldn't care less about what people brand you as. You just care about getting shit done by any means necessary.

***

Once again not tagging anyone but feel free to do the quiz if you want and share your result with me:

[annymation]

Reimagining the characters in Wish

(Part 1- Asha)

Hey guys! I don’t really know how to start this, but let’s just say that I… Didn’t like how Disney’s 100th anniversary movie turned out, like at all.

But I can tell there was a lot of unexplored potential beneath this story, that in my opinion felt overly simple and bare bones.

But if you love it, that’s awesome, more power to you, I wish I could’ve loved it too. And I don’t want to rewrite it to show I’m “better than the writers at Disney” because I’m definitely not lol, I have no experience in writing, and I’m sure they put a lot of passion into the project and I respect them for that. But this movie inspired me with ideas for a different story that I think is worth telling.

But I won’t start telling it today, instead, I'll start a series of blogs sharing my ideas for changes in the characters and their stories, after I get some feedback I will start posting more of the story itself.

If you’re interested, then come along!

Asha✨

Personality

- Asha is a 18 year old girl, with a passion for drawing and helping those around her, sometimes even worrying more about helping others than helping herself

- She’s like a big sister to her 7 friends, always being the voice of reason and acting responsible, but not in a bossy way, she’s actually very playful with them

- To the people of Rosas tho, she's seen as kind of a weirdo, for you see, she spends almost every time of the day drawing in her sketchbook

- She practices everyday to become a better artist, and the people of Rosas find this to be very peculiar, after all, why would you take so much effort to perfect a talent when you can simply wait to turn 18 and wish for the king to make you an amazing artist?

- Asha doesn’t mind these comments, although they have made her less willing to share her drawings with others that aren’t her 7 friends

- As the story progresses we see Asha flourish from a shy and introverted girl to a brave woman who after discovering a terrifying secret about the kingdom’s rulers, steps in and inspires others to join her and fight an evil sorcerer king and his alchemist wife (yes, I made Amaya an alchemist, more on that on part 2 when I talk about how I’d change Magnifico and Amaya)

- Some Disney characters that share similarities with her personality wise are: Belle, Tiana, Pocahontas and Esmeralda

Main Traits:

Calm and mature

Determined

Passionate about her interests (drawing, dancing, philosophy and stars)

Helpful and generous

Perceptive and always questioning things around her that no one pays attention to (like why do all the artists only paint the King and Queen?)

Playful

Compassionate

Backstory

Oooh boy I gave this poor girl so much angst, okay let’s go

Asha grew up with her grandfather, her parents both died in a fire when she was just a baby

(this isn’t just to fit the “haha Disney princess has no parents” cliche, there’s plot relevance in this “mysterious fire” that I’ll talk about later)

Growing up with her grandpa, he’d always support her dream to be an artist, like her mother, who was an art teacher

Her mother not only drew really well, but she also was able to create the illusion that her drawings could move, by flipping through the pages of her sketch books

In other words, her mom was an animator

Asha saw this technic her mom used as a form of magic, so she would often tell her grandpa she wanted to “Do magic just like my mom”

Her father was a philosopher (this was established in the actual movie but never explored haha whyyyy), who taught people that working hard to achieve your dreams is not only rewarding, but also essential, because it’s part of the human nature to persevere and fight for what we believe, even if we fail, even if it’s hard, just keep moving forward.

This philosophy may sound very “umm duh” for me and you since we all know and hear everywhere nothing in life comes for free… But that’s not the case in Rosas

In this rewrite the kingdom wasn’t created by Magnifico, but rather the kingdom has existed for many generations, being ruled by different kings before Magnifico who also granted wishes… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point is that the culture of just asking the king to give you or make you whatever you want to be has been in this kingdom’s culture since forever, so when Asha’s dad comes out saying “hey! Maybe we should stop just relying on the king to make our dreams come true, right?” He’s actually being quite a revolutionary… and sharing a very dangerous belief to other people…

At this point you might suspect what caused that “mysterious fire”

So, back to Asha, growing up with her grandpa, they shared a lot of happy memories together. Reading her father's books and her mother's art books helped Asha connect with them even tho she never had them in her life.

But as her grandfather grew older, he became senile.

Asha went from being taken care of by her grandpa to being the one who took care of him when she was still around 13 years old, and when she turned 15 her grandfather passed away of old age

Asha went on to live with her best friend Dahlia, the two became like sisters.

Though she managed to move on from the loss of her grandfather, she could never shake the feeling that he died without getting his wish granted... But she had no way to prove that, it was just a feeling

The wish granting system works different in my rewrite, instead of there being a public wish granting ceremony once a month, there would only be a public wish TAKING ceremony, that would work just like in the movie, you turn 18, you go give your wish to the king yada yada yada.

But the wish granting part would work like this: Almost every night the king would release the wishes up in the sky, they would float down like balloons to their respective owners while they sleep, and once they woke up in the morning they'd feel that their wishes were granted, for they would wake up changed.

With this method, there's no way of confirming if someone really got their wish granted or not, unless you went to ask the king.

Asha never did ask the king if he granted her grandfather's wish, but her grandfather would sometimes express how he wasn't feeling completely fulfilled in his life, he felt like there was something... missing.

This feeling of hollowness persisted in him until the very end, no matter how hard Asha tried to help her grandfather, she never knew him as his real self, because he gave part of his soul to the king, the most beautiful part of his soul, his wish.

Asha had no proof that her grandfather didn't get his wish granted, only a gut feeling.

But because of this, Asha wasn't that thrilled to give her own wish to king magnifico, knowing there was the possibility of it never being granted.

Not to mention she didn’t even know what to wish for, “I’m just 18 and you guys expect me to already know what’s my heart’s deepest desire? I’m still figuring that out, all I know is that I wanna draw”

Plus she wanted to follow her father's philosophy and achieve her wish on her own, eventually, when she figured out what her wish even was.

Asha never rebelled against the system tho, she wasn't a confrontational person. She just accepted the people of Rosas preferred to rely on the king's magic, but that just wasn't for her.

However, on her 18 birthday, when it was expected of her to give her wish to the king, she simply said she didn't have a wish, and even if she did she wouldn’t want to hand it over, she wanted to make it come true on her own. This lead to an argument with the king, and after a series of events (that I don't have time to summarize here, but you can find out about it on my rewrite) leads to her finding out a terrible truth about her kingdom. And that's how her story begins.

Design

- I’d keep these braid ornaments that Asha had in the concept art

- Since in my rewrite she’s not that invested in the kingdom of Rosas, I’d remove all the Kingdom of Rosas symbols that are present in her design (there are a LOT of them)

- I’d replace these Rosas insignia with more star and constellations themed symbols, to reflect how Asha believes that the stars are connected to people and they can guide us, just like how her father believed.

Final Thoughts

My intentions with these changes were to give Asha a strong emotional hook, and something that makes her feel relatable.

The emotional hook here is how she spent so much of her life taking care of her grandfather that she kinda never had time to worry about her own desires, that alone can be relatable to caregivers of elderly people that watch their grandparents or even their own parents lose themselves as time passes, and end up worrying more about the person they’re taking care of than themselves.

Asha has this internal emotional conflict where she feels she needs to constantly help others the same way she helped her grandfather, and one of the things she’ll learn as the story progresses is that it’s not selfish of her to want more for HERSELF.

Another thing that would be relatable about Asha is her passion for drawing, and how most people in Rosas would say she’s wasting her time practicing so much when she can just wait until she turns 18 and wish to be amazing at drawing.

She’d never stop believing that taking her time to improve on her talent and trying again and again was worth every second of her time, because let me tell ya folks, drawing is HARD, and animating like Asha’s mom did is even HARDER, it takes a whole lot of practice, and Asha was determined to keep trying.

She’d be much like Belle, remaining true to herself even tho those around her considered her odd, and very passionate about drawing just as much Belle was passionate about reading.

I also find it funny how Asha’s motivations are fairly down to earth, like in Disney movies you usually have:

I want to be free from these palace walls!

I want to explore the ocean!

I want to open a restaurant!

I want to find true love!

And then there’s Asha here like

“My life is fine, I just wanna chill and draw stuff”

And that’s it, but, in her environment where everyone is expected to have this great wish that they have to give to the king so he’ll make it a reality, she’s kinda the odd one out, and I love that. Would be a great subversion of the Disney formula.

Of course after she learns Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions she gets a lot more agency and the desire to save her people, her “call for adventure” if you will.

But what are Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions? Click here for part 2 and find out!

Thank You For Reading!

[tossawary]

I'm reviewing episode transcripts from "Merlin" to build up my worldbuilding document (character list, mostly) and, a little ways into S2, I'm kind of feeling like the show is actually quite mean to Arthur as a character sometimes? S1 E14: "To Kill the King" is one of those episodes where I forget how badly it pissed me off until I run into it again.

Like, don't get me wrong, Arthur can be a bully, entitled, hotheaded, and reckless, but he's also at this point risked his own life to save people multiple times. Both individuals whose lives were "worth less" than his own (getting the Mortaeus flower for a poisoned Merlin, smuggling Mordred out of the city, protecting Ealdor from bandits) and also Camelot as a whole (fighting the plague-causing monster in the sewers, fighting the mam-eating griffin, drinking poison to lift the unicorn curse).

Arthur is giving me vibes of being both bored and frustrated (and probably not able to name those feelings or exactly why he has them) because he wants so badly to do good things, but he's not really sure how to go about it because (no one ever tells him anything, he almost NEVER knows what's really going on to make informed choices, and) he's also stuck under the thumb of his tyrannical father, who spends most of their scenes together berating Arthur for being too merciful, for not being dutiful enough, and/or not finding sorcerers for execution fast enough. When Arthur tries to be fair-minded and compassionate, Uther often essentially tells him that he's going to be a weak king with that attitude.

Arthur's pathways to betterment are limited, his parent and role model and boss here is an AWFUL person, but he's trying!

So, it's quite frustrating to get to this one episode where characters like Gaius (extremely biased, admittedly, clearly not an objective individual) are saying things like: "Arthur's not ready. The responsibility would be too great. Brave though he may be, he lacks experience, he lacks judgement."

Like, I don't know, Arthur may be only 21 and kind of a dipshit, but I personally think he'd still do a better job than the guy who tried to kill a kid (Mordred) just for existing a few episodes ago? Maybe? Gwen's father, who wasn't even a sorcerer or knowingly working with one, is dead explicitly because of Uther's awful laws. Did everyone in this episode forget that Uther tried to BURN GWEN ALIVE AT THE STAKE not that long ago (Episode 3)?

ARTHUR: "[Morgana]'s right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen."

UTHER: "You saw it for yourself. She used enchantments."

ARTHUR: "Yes, maybe. But to save her dying father, that doesn't make [Gwen] guilty of creating a plague. One's the act of, of kindness, of love, the other of evil. I don't believe evil's in this girl's heart."

UTHER: "I have witnessed what witchcraft can do. I have suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance. If there is the slightest doubt about this girl, she must die or the whole kingdom may perish."

ARTHUR: "I understand that."

UTHER: "One day you may become King. Then you will understand. Such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom."

ARTHUR: "I know. Witchcraft is an evil, father. So is injustice. Yes, I am yet to be King, and I don't know what kind of king I will be, but I do have a sense of the kind of Camelot I would wish to live in. It would be where the punishment fits the crime."

UTHER: "I fear you're right. She's played with fire, and sadly she must die by fire."

When the adult druid (Cerdan) accompanying Mordred is killed (Episode 8), Arthur objects afterwards! On his own! While Arthur is sometimes an active participant in Uther's tyranny and otherwise complicit, he's been told all of his life that magic is inherently evil and corrupting, he was raised by the very man spreading this hateful philosophy, he should probably hate magic more than anyone after Uther, and yet he still disagrees with Uther's methods and judgments. Even though Uther is apparently VERY willing to lock both his son (Episode 4) and his ward (Episode 8) in the dungeons for disagreeing with him and disobeying him!

ARTHUR: The Druid was only in Camelot to collect supplies. He meant no harm. Is it necessary to execute him?

UTHER: Absolutely necessary. Those who use magic cannot be tolerated.

ARTHUR: The Druids are a peaceful people.

UTHER: Given the chance, they would return magic to the kingdom. They preach peace, but conspire against me. We cannot appear weak.

ARTHUR: Showing mercy can be a sign of strength.

UTHER: Our enemies will not see it that way. We have a responsibility to protect this kingdom. Executing the Druid will send out a clear message. Find the boy. Search every inch of the city.

Obviously, running a kingdom is complicated! Uther apparently won Camelot by conquest and is in conflict with many of the neighboring kings, including Odin and Cenred, and likely has more of the respect of the local nobility than young Arthur does. Uther's death would create some instability! (Agravaine de Bois hasn't been created yet, but let's assume there are many other potential vultures.)

But the show generally isn't pushing that angle. This isn't really about smooth transitions of power. Personally, concerning Arthur's "lack of judgment", I do find his ready conviction that it is his duty to die for Camelot's honor if necessary (he says as much to Merlin explicitly before fighting Valiant in Episode 2, then again before fighting the Black Knight in Episode 9) more than a little concerning, but that doesn't seem to be angle pushed here either.

The show has characters (Merlin, Gwen, Gaius) suggesting that offing the King, who regularly kills innocent people whether they have magic or not, who has forbidden use of the tool that might have saved innocent people from Nimueh's plague or the wraith of Tristan de Bois, would be wrong! It would be murder and murder is bad! It would make (in the words of a grieving Gwen) her "just as bad" as him.

Even though Merlin has at this point already killed Aulfric and Sophia (Episode 7), as well as Mary Collins (Episode 1) because they were trying to kill Arthur. And arguably got an assist with Valiant (Episode 2). And will kill many more as the show goes on. This conversation with Kilgharrah in S1 E14 is in many ways so, so funny:

KILGHARRAH: Well, young warlock, what is it you come to ask of me?

MERLIN: I need your help.

KILGHARRAH: Of course you do, but this time, will you heed my words?

MERLIN: The sorcerer Tauren is plotting to kill the King. He's made an ally of Morgana. I don't know what to do!

KILGHARRAH: Do… nothing.

MERLIN: What do you mean? If I do nothing, Uther will die.

KILGHARRAH: Don't you want Uther dead? It is Uther that persecutes you and your kind, Merlin. It is Uther that murders the innocent…

MERLIN: But surely that doesn't make it right to kill him.

KILGHARRAH: Only if Uther dies can magic return to the land. Only if Uther dies will you be free, Merlin. Uther's reign is at an end. Let Arthur's reign begin. Fulfil your destiny!

[The dragon flies off.]

MERLIN: Wait! Where does it say my destiny includes murder?

KILGHARRAH: Free this land from tyranny, Merlin! Free us all!

I feel for Kilgharrah here. He was VERY straightforward. I don't know how he could have been clearer about this.

I won't say that Merlin's character writing doesn't make ANY sense here (I do think the character writing in this show is NOT amazingly consistent), because... he IS being influenced by Gaius, who is, unfortunately, a bootlicker and also probably extremely traumatized by all of the death he's seen (big contributor of the bootlicking) (also, apparently Gaius only becomes a "freeman" at the end of Episode 6, so there's that). And Merlin is also being heavily influenced by Arthur, who loves his father, despite everything. For Arthur's sake, if no one else's, Merlin will go out of his way to save Uther. Sure! That tracks!

Merlin spends a lot of time in this show protecting a terrible status quo under some assumption that Camelot will... somehow suddenly become better under Arthur? Instead of perhaps eventually just trusting Arthur and talking to him after their years of knowing each other? There are several, in-world reasons for this and I don't think they're all unrealistic! It's tense! It's thrilling sometimes!

(Though I am ultimately a little annoyed that Merlin's many secrets never really come out and get dealt with by the characters, because that would have been fun drama and some resolution to all the tension, even if the story did still end in death.)

There's some tasty tragedy in this silly show, in many ways. Merlin is confused and conflicted and scared and without clear guidance in many ways. Kilgharrah is mysterious and not at all reassuring. Gaius is complacent and (very reasonably) incredibly secretive. Merlin doesn't get to see many of the moments where Arthur speaks up for magical people and tries to talk Uther down. Morgana and Arthur are both stuck here in a "The hands that cradled you are covered in an unimaginable amount of blood." "But they cradled me, yes?" nightmare scenario. (There's also a sexist element where male characters like Gaius and Merlin won't let Morgana know about her own powers "for her own good" in a gaslight-y way that's fascinating to me in how it creates a villain.)

But, also, the compelling tragic elements here don't make certain episodes any less frustrating to watch in their execution. (I don't think villains being frustrating to watch or read necessarily makes them effective villains, especially when what I really find annoying here is the heroes' reactions to the villain. Uther has killed SO MANY PEOPLE! FOR NO REASON!) Especially when a lot of the overall results of this show often feel more accidental than purposeful. I do understand why the writers keep Uther around! He's a formidable antagonist to have looming all over the place and the actor is fun.

But OOF, I felt that "Do... Nothing".

Merlin! MERLIN! LISTEN TO THE SCARY DRAGON! MERLIN, REMEMBER THAT TIME UTHER TRIED TO BURN GWEN ALIVE??? JUST BECAUSE GWEN IS TOO NICE TO GO AFTER UTHER WITH A KNIFE AND TAKE REVENGE, IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY MEAN KILLING HIM MAKES YOU "JUST AS BAD"!!! MERLIN!!! YOU HAVE ALREADY MURDERED MULTIPLE PEOPLE WHO KILLED WAY LESS PEOPLE THAN UTHER!!!

In Episode 4, Morgana says to Uther: "You can't chain [Arthur] up every time he disagrees with you." This implies to me that Uther has had Arthur thrown in the dungeons before. In Episode 3, Arthur says to Morgana: "Father will slam us both in chains if he knew I'd endangered you," and maybe he wasn't at all joking with that? Arthur is rattling the bars of his cell here, apparently fairly ready to be aimed wherever Merlin points him, bucking against being aimed at innocents by his tyrant of a father.

But nooo, Gaius says Arthur is "not ready yet" because...??? He seems less hotheaded than Uther to me, honestly. Are his tax policies not up to par yet? You can hire a guy for that. Suggesting that Arthur would be in any way worse than His Majesty "Anyone Who Talks To A Sorcerer Gets Executed Even If They Didn't Know They Were A Sorcerer" feels quite mean to Arthur, really. I think he'd do alright, in comparison, Gaius who lies to the King every single day, but I suppose you sometimes want to be a loyal friend to good ol' King "Made Merlin Drink Poison That One Time And Wouldn't Let Anyone Go Get The Cure". Good for you. Bad for everyone else.

Like, I know, I know this show is not very deep. I like that all of the characters are flawed and fumble a lot! I even kind of enjoy that it ultimately ends in death with so many loose emotional threads. It is a weekly burst of fantasy nonsense that is not especially concerned with consistency in worldbuilding or characters from episode to episode. But the executive discrepancies here are, like the ones in "Star Wars", weirdly fascinating with all of the holes and wobbly bits it creates.

This show: "Yes, our hero has once again saved the tyrannical king who kills innocents! Preventing the oblivious prince from assuming the throne and trying to do better as he so clearly wants to do! Good work, Merlin, taking the high road (which involved murdering the rightfully angry people trying to kill the tyrannical king) again!"

Me, every time: "...I am genuinely not sure how the show wants us to interpret this. What did they think they were doing with this? Was this always meant to be a tragedy from the first season? Because personally, I'm getting some kind of tragedy from this."

[rainydaydream-gal18]

Oh! How would the Bad Batch react to their S/O protecting them or blocking an attack they didn’t see for them during a mission!

(The Bad Batch) You Block/Protect Him from an Attack

Hunter

There isn't much that this guy doesn't see, but every now and then, he finds himself a little preoccupied in the heat of battle. He saw the enemy taking aim with their blaster, but he was locked in hand-to-hand combat with multiple targets at the moment, mentally working out the details of how he'd get out of that one.

You saw your enemy's evil intent, heart pounding at the thought of any harm coming to him, and jumped in to quickly knock the enemy out before they could even take a shot.

While grappling with his opponent, Hunter's visor snapped toward you for an instant. If his helmet was off, you would've seen the gratitude in his eyes as well as the pride. But things were moving so fast that he couldn't afford to spare more than a glance in your direction.

A new resolve settled in his chest, and he overcame his opponent with a surge of strength. He had to end this fight.

It was later on aboard the Marauder that Hunter was able to truly express his feelings on the matter. In the quiet of the ship, he pulled you into an embrace that caught you a little off guard.

"I saw that," he murmured. "Earlier."

You smiled as you leaned into his chest, though you weren't entirely sure what it was about. "What do you mean?"

"During the fight," he continued, resting his stubbled cheek against yours. "You were there just in time."

"Oh, that?" Your heart picked up speed as you wrapped your arms tighter around him, chuckling softly. "Just doing my duty, Sarge. I'm always happy to help."

"Saved my behind is what you did."

You rolled your eyes playfully, pulling away slightly to kiss his chin. "You would've found your way out."

He smirked, tilting his head down so that his lips could meet yours. "I'm not so sure. It was looking pretty bleak."

Wrecker

During fights, this guy goes all out. Sometimes he gets caught up in the heat of battle, so it isn't entirely unheard of that he wouldn't see an impending threat creeping up on him.

You never strayed too far from Wrecker in battle unless you were given an order, so fortunately, you saw it coming. He was covering you, as a matter of fact, pulling a particularly large opponent away from you.

You planted your feet and took aim with your blaster, firing off a couple of blasts to take the approaching threat out.

Wrecker hadn't seen them coming behind him, but he heard the blaster fire. He turned around to see your position standing only a few feet away, gaze honed on your target, eyes alight with protective fire.

"Wow," he rumbled in amazement, helmet tilting as he admired you for a moment. His chest swelled with the reminder that you always had his back, and he dove back into the fray.

After the fight, Wrecker came up behind you while you talked to Hunter and wrapped you up in a giant hug, squeezing you until you laughed.

"You were great out there!" He boomed affectionately, bringing you closer his chest and resting his head against yours as if you were Lula. "Thanks for havin' my back!"

You happily accepted the kiss that he bestowed, melting into it and his gentle touch.

Tech

Tech was very capable on the battlefield. You'd seen it. He was smart, resourceful, and strong.

But sometimes, he had other things to do even in the midst of a firefight. Whether it was hacking, downloading data, searching his holopad for vital information, or using his custom visor to scan ahead. It was in those times that engaging in combat was put on the backburner, falling to the rest of you while he worked on whatever crisis was at hand.

This was one of those instances. Tech was knelt beside a panel, trying to hotwire a door since Wrecker was not there to bash it in. You and Echo were covering him. It was practically the two of you against an entire wave of enemies that were quickly approaching.

A shot was fired just past Tech, leaving a scorch mark on the door. He paused his work momentarily to steal a narrow-eyed look at the enemy. Heart racing, you jumped in front of him, swiftly taking aim and firing off several blasts.

Tech glanced up at you, brown eyes softening behind the clear visor, and coolly resumed his task.

"Thank you, my dear," he said evenly, though the gratitude was evident in his tone.

"Of course," you grunted back, ducking to avoid a shot and quickly firing back. Together, you and Echo were able to fight off the remaining opponents until Tech managed to get the door open.

Later on, when things calmed down, you and Tech hardly left each other's side even as you went about the mundane tasks of ship repairs, setting coordinates, checking supplies.

Out of the blue, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss. The gesture was a surprise, but a pleasant one. You sighed into it, and when he pulled away, you smiled. When you asked what it was for, he merely adjusted his goggles and replied,

"Consider that my expression of gratitude for earlier. Thank you for covering me."

"Oh," you chuckled. "Anytime."

Echo

You'd been separated from Echo on the latest mission, given orders to accompany Wrecker and Omega and meet the others at the destination. Of course you always worried about your love, but never in a million were you prepared for what you saw when you arrived at the rendezvous point.

In the middle of a fight, Echo was grappling with an enemy at the edge of a steep drop. His blaster was just out of reach, and the opponent had his arm pinned.

Your heart plummeted at the sight, and to make matters worse, another enemy was eyeing the situation from across the platform, possibly looking to aid his ally. The enemy turned his masked face toward you, and the both of you met each other's gazes in silent understanding.

You took off running toward Echo and his opponent, blaster in hand. You couldn't afford a moment of hesitation. Your rival was tearing across the platform as well, both of you intent in the race to help your comrades.

Fortunately, you made it there first, taking aim to keep him from getting any closer. In that instance, Echo managed to overpower his attacker, and knock him out. He looked up through his helmet visor to see you standing in front of him protectively with your blaster aimed at the one who had dared to threaten him.

He still made a move for his own blaster, so you stunned him.

Echo was at your side in an instant with his own blaster recovered. "Thanks," he breathed out through his modulator, still huffing from the effort his his wrestling match. "You alright?"

"Now that you are, I am," you replied, affection creeping into your tone as you stole a glance at him. "Don't do that to me again."

His voiced lilted with playful sarcasm. "I'll try not to."

Crosshair

He is always the eye in the sky. Crosshair is the one who looks after the others, including you.

But it isn't completely unheard of that his location is compromised.

You were down below, engaged in combat alongside the rest of the squad. You fired your blaster and ducked to avoid a swipe from a nearby opponent. As you took him down, you noted the fall of enemies all around you. Single, precise shots from afar. Your eyes travelled up to see the glint of armor nestled atop a boulder at the peak of a rocky slope.

You knew it to be Crosshair, so you gave him a nod of thanks that he would hopefully see through his scope. It always amazed you how far he could be, and yet how safe you felt knowing he was never too far.

Unfortunately, one of your enemies somehow managed to follow the line of fire. They stood at the edge of the valley, aiming their own rifle at Crosshair's position.

"Oh no," you whispered, muscles bunching as you prepared to break into a run. You lifted your blaster and fired a few warning shots, hoping to spook him out of it. Relieved that he turned his attention from your sniper and onto you, you barreled into him rather ungracefully and knocked him out with a harsh blow with the butt of your blaster.

No doubt that maneuver would result in a few bruises on your arm, but things were too crazy to dwell on it for long.

You didn't see Crosshair until after the battle when things calmed down. He met up with the rest of the squad, hovering near you like he usually did.

"Hey," you greeted, eyes brimming with affection and relief. He entered your space, regarding you with his own version of tenderness.

"Hey." His gaze didn't stray from yours for several seconds, a sign he was contemplating his next words. "Are you...alright?"

"Hm?"

"Before. You hit him pretty hard."

"Oh," you blushed, realizing he saw that. "I got a little banged up, but nothing major."

"That was reckless." His scolding was flat, but you recognized it for what it was. Even so, his gloved hand curled around yours.

"I know, I just... I got concerned is all."

"Concerned," he repeated with emphasis, leaning in. Before you could respond, Crosshair's lips joined with yours agonizingly slow, leaving you wanting another kiss as he pulled away.

"Be more careful next time," he murmured.

[ironmandeficiency]

the hobbit + hozier songs

characters included: kíli, bilbo, dwalin, thorin, nori, bofur, ori, fíli, dori, tauriel

word count: 1166

a/n: the amazing and precious @wordbunch inspired me to write these bc of her lotr/th characters as taylor swift songs posts & i couldn't be more excited to finally post this labor of love!! thank you bestie for listening to me scream abt this for nearly two months lol

kíli: foreigner’s god

he loves outside of his race and this fact causes undue scorn to be thrown at his feet. it’s unheard of for almost any dwarf, let alone one from the line of durin, to do such a thing. this does not deter him - it empowers him; if his heart could go against the traditions forged into his bones, molten in his hot blood, how could it not be true? the strength of his love is what helps him ignore the doubts shouted by the prejudice plaguing those who know nothing of his heart. that, and the sound of your laughter at his antics, the soft smiles only given to him when he’s being a little too charming… he could go on.

bilbo: like real people do

as much flack as bilbo gets from the company for not being conventionally tough, he’s not weak by any means. he’s familiar with the pain of loss, and how the ways one tries to rise above the grief that follows aren’t always savory. he knows there’s a respect to be found in the absence of prying questions, choosing simply to coexist in the feelings and allow answers to come in their own sweet time. he’ll put some tea on to cook and scrounge up some leftovers from the previous meal, sitting beside you and letting the comfort flow naturally, his soft lips soothing the most tender aches.

dwalin: work song

just looking at him, you wouldn’t think dwalin a sap. but with his insanely strong sense of loyalty and stalwart dedication, he can’t be anything but. he’s faced down innumerable evils in his time, braved the fiercest of storms that many of his comrades didn’t; none of them even come close to keeping him from you. your arms welcome him home without question after each fight he braves, and your letters tucked into secret compartments in his armor keep him warm between embraces. he’ll read them by the fire every night when he’s away, every gentle word carrying his mind away from thoughts of the day’s turmoil.

thorin: sedated

this sweet, sad man doesn’t think he deserves good things in life. this, unfortunately, includes having someone love him despite his flaws and past mistakes. he couldn’t resist admitting his feelings for you and was ridiculously shocked that you reciprocated & allowed him to love you. on nights when he feels his failures deeper, he’ll try to convince you that he doesn’t deserve you. vitriol will escape from worried lips and terrified heart, piercing you in the way only a lover knows how. a soft kiss, gentle words, and a few strokes through his hair will soothe these wounds from him for a time and allow him some of the peace he’s fought to find, but doesn’t always believe is earned.

nori: it will come back

it was decades since the last time nori thought of love, even longer since he believed himself worthy of it. meeting you only solidified his disbelief; how could someone look at him and see someone that deserved such a pure thing, after everything he’s done in his life? he’s stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to survive (and sometimes not for mere survival). his attempts to spurn you away from him only increased your determination to break through the fortress he built around himself. he could only be strong against your advances for so long before he crumbled, reluctantly accepting the love and peace and safety you offered so freely.

bofur: nobody

bofur’s done a lot in his time. he was born in the blue mountains, a colony that never seemed to find the prosperity needed to do more than simply survive. he is a brother, uncle, cousin, friend, toymaker, miner, member of the great company that reclaimed erebor. but through all his adventures and hardships, he never lost his playful streak. he wants to have fun with who he loves, wants a little bit of mischief to make his laugh louder and brighter. bofur is a fun-loving soul who, despite his wandering past, will always choose you over anywhere that you’re not.

ori: francesca

ori’s life has never been a peaceful one. being raised by dori and being followed by the whispers of his late amad’s reputation (not to mention nori’s) without a mountain to call home, it weighed on his shoulders. even his craft, the pride of every dwarrow worth their beard, happened to be one seen as miniscule in importance compared to smithing. every moment spent with his one, doing anything or nothing at all, eases the burden he carries and makes every moment of strife worth it just to be with the soul made to mirror his.

fíli: i, carrion (icarian)

your love for him seems almost too good to be true, the remnants of stories told in dusty tomes written by those with far more eloquence than he can claim to possess. that being said, he is definitely not one to look a gift boar in the mouth. he relishes in each tender moment, every second spent in your presence that carries him far beyond the constraints life has placed upon him. but he recognizes that life isn’t always so simple, retreating into your arms and wishing that everything around you both just disappears. there’s always reality, waiting patiently outside of your chambers for one faulty misstep to throw you both askew. that’s why he dedicates himself to showing you that if life does what it does best and deals harsh blows, he will be there for you through it all.

dori: shrike

dori never had time for love; he had two brothers to protect, one more wily than the other was young. his focus was on getting his brothers through the days, putting food on their plates and the semi-frequently used stash of bail money well-stocked. he allowed his feelings for his one to fall to the wayside in the name of preservation. he ignored their call for decades and braved out the pain that came with such a silence. he begged for his one’s forgiveness every time they called for him. but once the mountain was reclaimed and his brothers safe, he yearned for what he could have had. he would approach his one with much regret and sorrow for the time lost, but a pure hope that they could find forgiveness in their heart for him.

tauriel: unknown/nth

to earn her love is a feat unlike that which the world has known for a long time. being seen as worth all these mortal struggles and painful toils in the eyes of an elf, let alone one as fierce as tauriel, is quite the achievement to anyone outside looking in. to the red-haired warrior in question, though, giving her love to you has the same unthinking ease as breathing; it’s beyond instinct to do and just as necessary to her survival. you’re worth every century spent alone, every moment after knowing you spent away from you.

[yoditopascal]

My Jake

Pairings: Jake Lockley x afab!reader

Tags: SMUT MDNI,NOT BETA READ, unprotected sex, rough sex, dark!possessive Jake, overstimulation, jealous!Jake. It’s super short sorry y’all

a/n: I’ve been rewatching avatar and the way Neytiri says ‘ma Jake’ got to me

To say Jake Lockley was interested in you was an understatement. Mans had a borderline obsession.

He just had to know how you ticked and once he did he doubted he’d ever be able to let you go again.

Avatar to the god Anubis he first found himself fascinated in the fact that you couldn’t die. Through Marc and Steven’s eyes he’d seen you be stabbed, shot, had your throat slit and more and everytime you just healed and kept fighting. That’s what drew him to you, simple morbid curiosity. Your connection to the duat and the way you fought as an avatar was beautiful in the most poetic way he could think of. You essentially became a god of death, sucking the life out of evil with one touch, ferrying them to the afterlife to be judged for their wrong doings. He'd never seen anyone fight the way you did. And the emotions you expressed while you did it, he couldn’t wrap his head around why you wept for some of them but you did and it made him all the more curious about you. You were different.

Next was your love for Steven and Marc. Though platonic in nature you still gave them your heart in full. Steven was almost instantaneous, the man had you wrapped around his little finger with his puppy eyes and soft voice. To you he could do no wrong. Marc took a bit more work but after a few life or death missions together and the whole saving the world from Harrow fiasco Marc was just as much of a trusted friend as Steven was. Jake wasn’t sure if you could tell when he front and pretended to be Steven or Marc but whether you could tell or not you treated him just the same, voice just as sweet when you spoke to him and only him, touch just as delicate and as soft, sometimes he wished you would just hold his face in your palm and never let go something he’d usually never admit but you made him feel…different.

Lastly what drew him to you was jealousy. He saw how you looked at Layla when she wasn’t looking or how you hung onto every word she said. He also saw how she looked at you sometimes too, how she smiled shyly and looked at you through her lashes. He couldn’t let that slide.

Which was how you found yourself underneath him, tears in your eyes as you wailed with every aggressive thrust of his hips.

Hovering over you, his pupils blown with feral lust Jake grabs at your hips, desperate to anchor himself as he drove away savagely at your core.

A whine seeped from your lips, your skin felt like it was on fire, sensitive to his contact, burning touches following each placement of his long fingers.

“Give me one more cariño”

He was starting to lose himself in you, his hands continued to dig into you as his thrusts got harder, rougher, making a complete mess of the both of you, leaving bruised touches in his wake. He felt your pussy suck him in even more, cunt dripping with every movement he made.

Looking down he became mesmerized by the way he disappeared inside of you, another wail escaped from your lips as his thumb found your clit once more, refusing to let up as he rubbed furious little circles into it, body growing feverish under his gaze and from the intense pleasure you were experiencing.

“Give it to me cariño, I need one more.”

With every flick of his finger, hot pleasure rocks its way into the pit of your stomach, you cum quickly without warning with a scream, overwhelmed by his heavy body on top of you and overstimulation, causing him to pause but only for a second before he starts up again.

“Please my Jake, please”

You pleaded completely spent, lightly pushing against his abdomen in a weak attempt to get him to stop.

He ignored you, focusing instead on sucking along your breast with fervor. You reached up and tugged onto his hair hard, just enough to get him to listen to your pleas but he only grunted, continuing his menstruations as he ground himself into your core.

“So fucking wet for me hermosa, gimme one more.”

[partycatty]

liu kang > in the new era

reader used to be a sweetheart and hero in the previous timeline, but something changed this time around.

warnings: :(, i'm a bit of a yapper in this one

notes: idk this one kinda flew off the handle but i had a vision

masterlist <3

•liu kang creating everyone with the strength and humility he carried in thunder god raiden's honor following becoming keeper of time

•he made everyone beautiful, everyone worthy and capable of good, honest work and for that he was proud

•of course, some of them strayed from the ideal path and sought to increase their strength, but perhaps it was always in their character to conquer. that, liu kang couldn't change.

•but you... it was you that he least expected to abandon that honor you always had.

•you were a good fighter, an honest worker and a force to be reckoned with when it came to kicking shao kahn's ass. the shaolins looked up to you. the shirai ryu used you as an example. the lin kuei knew not to fuck with you. the special forces practically begged you to lead their army alongside the Cage-Blade family.

•he could have had you, the romantic attraction was heavily implicated. but alas, the only time you two interacted was during a horrific Koliseum brawl or otherwise breaking bones.

•the last time he saw you was before his battle with kronika. you said you hoped to see him after the battle, and perhaps get to know each other sometime.

•he was sad to see that version of you erased from existence, but you were absolutely first on his list of people to shape. it felt wrong at first, to create you from nothing like the god he was. but he wouldn't be able to make a perfect world without you.

•when he came to your home to recruit you, he was nearly winded with your beauty. you looked just like he remembered, but with an innocent sparkle in your eyes, the eyes that were yet to see murder and magic. skin that wasn't stained with deep red blood. clothes that were neat and ordinary.

•you were always so curious, so willing to step in where you were needed. so it came as no surprise when you asked the fire god where to begin to defend earthrealm.

•months of training passed, and you naturally found that fighting skill. you joked about how it must be in your blood to know how to fight, and liu kang would hold his tongue, his eyes staring down at you with that deep feeling of loss and longing. he would simply smile and innocently agree.

•the time came for you to confront shang tsung in his laboratory and take him in for questioning. you went with the other earthrealmers, yet found yourself naturally leading the way.

•kenshi lost his eyesight, johnny got his shit kicked in, and kung lao got clotheslined. you were the only one of the group to remain conscious. shang tsung inspected you closely, claiming that you were just what he was looking for.

•you go missing for over a month. liu kang gets the help of the royal family despite their lack of knowledge about the mission in the first place. everyone is searching for you, and he has to resist the urge to burn down every forest and smash every boulder until he finds you.

•the hunt for you turns into a search for your body, as most presume you dead. it brings a heavy blanket of depression over the earthrealmers and liu kang.

•liu kang spends far more time than usual in his personal quarters, meditating with a tense posture. how could he let you get away from him? it nearly drives him mad, missing you dearly, but he wouldn't be able to express it. you were your new era self, with no clue about your previous self.

•the mourning only lasts so long before an all-out timeline war begins, and liu kang has to shove past the grief eating away at his godlike heart and gather the titans and heroes of other timelines to band together and defeat titan shang tsung.

•liu kang stands at the foot of the pyramid, fists clenched and jaw shut tight. behind him are hundreds, thousands of pure-hearted titans, ready to combat evil. the tension only grows when titan shang tsung saunters into view, a dark aura surrounding himself.

•"there is nowhere to run, shang tsung," liu kang shouts upward at his mortal enemy, channeling his anger of his lost love. "nowhere to hide. we have banded together to rid all timelines of your evil. the threat you pose to them ends today. in all timelines, the arc of history bends toward justice."

•"such certainty, liu kang, that this battle will end in your favor," shang tsung replies with a devilish smirk, a peculiar confidence radiating from his words. "in this timeline, it bends toward me."

•and from behind shang tsung, you walk out, eyes dark and wearing armor that resembles an enemy. your mind had been corrupted by power. after being captured, you were passed onto titan shang tsung, who knew of your strength and potential from the previous timeline. he filled your mind with ideas of power and endless possibilities at the cost of betraying Earthrealm.

•liu kang does not often feel physical emotion, but seeing you in that moment crushed him. his stance faltered and his arms lowered to his sides. the once innocent glimmer he saw in you was now gone.

•liu kang fights his way up the stairs, sending various evil versions of his friends into the green, hellish pit. he knocked the glasses off of dark star cage, beat kitana kahn into submission, and even took down a fiery scorp lao.

•when he makes his way up to the top, winded but still ready to battle if needed, he feels that pang in his chest return when he sees you stand beside shang tsung in a fighting stance.

•"please... i do not wish to fight you," liu kang tries to reason with you with a hint of desperation. "it is not too late to return to the light."

•"i know of your deceptive behavior, fire god," you reply with a nasty tone, mind corrupted by shang tsung's lies and delusions. "i will not hesitate to take you down."

•liu kang really, really did not want to fight you. he couldn't even use the defense that you weren't his (y/n). but you were. you were from his timeline. he made you, and fucked up. bad.

•all he could do was stand there, fists clenching and unclenching rapidly as he debated his options. but all the while, he held eye contact with you and your snarling face. you looked at him like he was a villain, because you were convinced that he was.

•for the first time in eons, liu kang wondered if resetting the timeline would be best. he knew he shouldn't, he saw what the power did to kronika. but god, it had never been that tempting until this very moment.

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm seeing a lot of asks about this and I want to give my two cents: I'm cool with Bruce being a bad father, but only if DC admits that he is a bad father.

You can't have him doing downright abusive shit only to never address it. The only character that consistently criticizes Bruce parenting is painted as entitled and vindictive. I genuinely think the reason why we can't have a decent Red Hood arc is because if you want Jason to make sense you're gonna have to admit Bruce is a fucked up father or rewrite canon.

Same reason for Tim "never aging", not so much physically but emotionally. Because to have the character establish itself like Nightwing did you would need to address at some point all the bullshit he went through. Even with Dick. Like sometimes it looks like they want to recognize how being raised by Batman fucked him up by they end up settling for "oh it's the pressure". Like that's the most DC will say "Batman puts his kids under a lot of pressure buuuuuut it's justified because they're fighting evil :)".

Not just the kids, I think Batman himself would be so much more interesting if DC was willing to let him confront these things. As a redemption arc or as a fatal flaw that keeps his family at arms length. But they want to have their cake (have Batman be edgy and give the Robins Character Development™ through good old child abuse) and eat it (have Batman be Dad of the year). And that's what doesn't work.

Batfam fandom is great because you have people making content for Good Father Bruce, Bad Dad Bruce (he's trying and it's a bit funny/tragic), Awful Father Bruce (with no intention of changing. Every option is way more interesting than DC's directionless mess. Like, we don't even need them to make Bruce Good™ we just want them to pick a side and stick to it.

Thank you. My gods that sums it up perfectly.

Like, I've got no problem consuming Good Dad Bruce content... if it's not the comics. The animated stuff is usually fine, and fanwork is also great. There's a ton to like about it.

Hell, I'm even chill if Bruce makes mistakes and errors and fucks up with his kids. That's realistic, as long as they address that he did, in fact, do that shit. They need to talk about how his actions have hurt his kids and his relationships with them. He can try to do better, or he can stay distant with his kids because of it (low to no contact). It's truly not that difficult to chat about.

Now, media that addresses all of the horrid stuff he's done and considers realistic reactions/solutions to it? Fantastic. I love that so much. It's so cathartic watching him get his ass handed to him.

It's not necessary, though. I'm chill with good dad Bruce.

Despite that, outright ignoring what he does or brushing it under the rug? That's horrific. That reads like a sickening cycle of abuse, and I can't stand it. It's the exact same shit an abuser pulls by harming their victim (psychologically, mentally, physically, etc.), apologizing (ish), finding a way to pin the blame back on the victim, and then love bombing. Like, my gods. Bruce will beat the shit out of Jason and say it's Jason's fault for killing someone... "I wouldn't harm you/take a machine to permanetly fuck up your brain if you didn't do that. It's not my fault that I decided to hurt you. It's your fault that I did."

I just fucking can't.

I think Tim, with his little statement of "I don't expect you to apologize" after Bruce caused him to have a nervous breakdown post 16th birthday, that's a close approximation to admitting that Bruce is a piece of shit that does tendencies like an abuser. No matter what someone's intentions are, they should still apologize if they've cause unjustified/unintentional harm. Only assholes who don't regret their actions or people who feel their actions are justified won't apologize. There's times when apologizing isn't necessary or desired. That's fine. I won't apologize if Comic!Bruce and I are in a room, and I "accidentally" set him on fire.

Yet, Bruce is out here fucking up his kids. At the very LEAST, they deserve a fucking apology. Maybe a restraining order.

I ranted a bit. My bad. Anyways, have DC acknowledge the shitty actions Bruce does or don't have him do them. It's simple.

[scentedpepper]

Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. I | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None (?) see below

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader [not 'til pt. 2]

Author Note(s): Guys, let's note RE is a game where big monster throws you into wall and you eat herb to heal. This idea is very much so present here however, I wanted to incorporate some realism as well while still maintaining that superhuman feeling to y/n.

This is again targeted at male readers because they don't get enough attention BUT you can pretty much still read it despite your gender!!

This takes place AFTER the mission to rescue Ashley but not too long after.

There's pretty much no content warnings for this one other then like description of injuries.

Oh, also Luis is alive in pt.2 because I love him

You can't remember the last time in the past four months when you'd actually been able to breathe.

Every inhale had been choked with spores, filled with the odors of infection and death; every exhale had brought on chills, fearing what genetic monstrosity might rise up behind you.

You'd be a fool to think that sitting back in your cot, against a tree, some abandoned building wall or even within the warmth of DSO headquarters would grant you it. A deep inhale. A calming expansion of your lungs.

Because there was your partner, Leon S. Kennedy, butting his head. Like the virus scratching up your insides, clawing to the top until it etched its fingernails against the walls of your throat and brought upon a sharp, painful cough.

It's been nearly a year now. 10 months and a half. And you weren't sure if this was like the phase married couples went through where the adoration melted and was replaced by hot pits of lava and fire shooting out your mouth with every word or– well, there was no or. That just seemed to be where you and Leon sat, in limbo, glaring at each other from across the rope.

Only good thing about ropes was climbing them. Scaling it up to get the advantage, bring him down so you could win. Everything was a game with you two, always had been. Didn't know when it started but knew when the tension began to boil over.

Maybe you should've seen it. Hell, with the way you two complained to your superior for a partner switch –or rather no partner at all– you should've expected. Expected it like you expect a high-speed car to mangle your body after deliberately stepping into its path.

That's what it felt like sometimes with you two. A car crash.

When you first met, you were like two dull kitchen knives being pressed and sliced against each other until an edge formed. Sure, the rough, uncut, jagged edge hurt with every prick and prod but it was the start to a bond. And then you were learning to work the edges on each other's weapons to ensure a lethal and clean cut. —Until, you weren't.

He was civil enough in the beginning —and so were you.

But when things began to slip into that weird, unspoken comfortableness of having a missions partner. The one where you find yourself up shits creek together, bathing in lakes and rivers and showering under the rain together. The one where your hearts are sewn intricately within each others and the responsibility of one another's lives rest against your shoulders.

That one.

That's when things began to slowly unravel for you and Leon.

And now you were here.

Free falling from the side of a mountain.

Deeper and deeper.

Winding, swirling, spinning.

And you're grasping. Grasping for the rope like Leon is.

Your fingers graze it, trap it, and you fight to ignore the razor sharp burn of it against your palms.

But your body isn't stilling yet, and your grip isn't strong enough, and you're being slammed into the harsh rock of the mountain.

It falls again.

This happens two more times over.

And on the last, you're holding on for much, much longer and you almost believe you're stable when your eyes begin searching for your partner.

He's gone.

The ropes blowing in the wind.

He's gone.

Your eyes move rapidly, panicked but before you can do much of anything the wind catches up to you again and your body is crashing right back into the mountain side.

Upon collision, you lose your grip and you're plummeting.

You don't have time to think about your partner as your raw hand clamps down on the rope for the fourth time. Your red palms leave your life line stained and your grip slippery but the blood, or the wind, or the friction, or the speed, or even the rain isn't what sends you fumbling in the air like a baby bird this time.

There's a pop. A sick crunch.

You don't hear it over the rain and wind and the beat of your own heart.

But you feel it.

The pain isn't delayed. It's hot and sharp and sends an immediate chorus of curses from your mouth as your arm goes limp. No grip. Nothing.

You have nothing.

Your body is in gravity's hands. You can't reach the rope. And your right arm is flailing in the wind like a deflated balloon of some sort.

The trees come on quickly.

But for a long moment you stare at the wall you had so harshly collided into, disorientated, your body shifting and swaying with the rushing of the wind.

In another moment, you think there's hands on you.

Frantic and needing, fighting for balance, fighting to save you.

But they're only your own.

And you're ignoring the slight pain that slips through the pump of your adrenaline as you fight against the wind to grab your right arm and tuck it beneath your chest.

Your body curls in on itself, your head tucks into your knees and your free arm wraps around the top of your head, securing yourself into place.

For seconds that feel too long, there's nothing but the rush of wind in your ears and it's almost peaceful. Like floating, drifting, basking.

But then your body is crashing violently, violently through the trees, through a bunch of saplings. Your ears pick up on their snapping, crunching, –it's fleeting. Your body's slowing down considerably but the ground hasn't met you yet. The weight is shifting, your body is jerking and dipping destructively and suddenly, your stomach feels unsettled.

But then you go still. Completely.

The rain stops.

The wind stops.

It's for two seconds, maybe three. Then your ears cut back into reality and your eyes peel open and you find yourself on an enormous branch, right in the crook of its "elbow" so to say. Your body bounces up, nearly slips from the spot, but your left arm shoots out, tightens and your knuckles turn white.

It's not enough.

You're slipping.

Fingers dancing over the wet tree bark as you begin to lose your balance completely, unable to spread yourself out enough because of your hurt arm. You fight but you fall, landing hard on the next branch below. And the next one beneath it.

Violent coughs threaten to bubble through your throat with the impact but you push them down. Because right now pain is a good thing. Means that everything is alive.

Your back feels like it might snap in half if you hit one more branch. So you opt for your stomach and maybe then you can brace yourself, grab something, anything.

Your ribs make contact first. Your body twirls. Not an inch unscathed.

Again and again, you meet with the branches until you fear that it may never end.

But then there's warmth. It's enveloping you and for a moment you think it's your own blood. Or the air being knocked from your lungs when your body finally lands in its final resting spot.

No.

These arms...

"Reach, to the side!"

There it is.

A small bit of bark you can snatch.

You latch onto it, press yourself against the tree.

"Alright, I got you. " Leon whispers above you but it feels too far away as you allow your left arm to slacken, resting the rest of your weight on the tree.

"Shoulder?"

He's asking about the limp, near useless thing that was hanging by your side. You open your mouth to respond, not with much success. The movement nearly cuts it off.

"Yes..." The word forces itself out, strained and bitter. And then you're shaking your head and swallowing past the lump in your throat. "No, I think it's dislocated. "

"Can you manage?" His assessment of you is quick.

"I can't move it. " You spit out and your words are still breathless. Winded. With your face buried in the tree bark, one cheek against the cool, rough surface, you scoff, "Don't think 'm goin' anywhere. "

You want to laugh. But there's nothing funny about this. Just empty air and a thick heat that seems to be simmering between the two of you. The tension is threatening to spill.

"Stay here. "

His voice is too far. His weight is leaving your branch. And your fingers grab ahold of the fabric of his sleeve.

"Where're you going?"

Leon hesitates.

"Ada can help us. "

Your breath whips back into your body.

"Ada?" You question and your eyes are searching, really taking him in now. His form. The rain has soaked him. His breathing is just as heavy. His jacket has the largest tear down the side, the lining popping at the seams and tucked into his waistband is a hookshot. Adas.

"When the fuck did Ada get here?" Your tone is one of bewilderment as you stare at your partner and finally put together how he went so unscathed.

"Back on the mountain. "

"Shes been following us you?" You inquire.

"I didn't realize she was there until she was grabbing me out the air. "

"For a top agent, you got shit on her, Leon. "

It's out of your mouth in a hurry, a slap to the face. It's anger on your part. You turn your cheek against the tree and your eyes focus on the town, not Leon.

You hold grudges. Not that he knew the reason for this one.

He's silent for a moment, his anger seeping through it as he scans the surrounding area. Looking for Ada, no doubt.

But in a little voice he hums a retort.

"Could say the same thing for you. "

Your head snaps up, cheek no longer nursing the rough grooves and ridges in the bark.

"'Scuse me?”

He's quiet again.

"Oh, you don't have some bitch-ass comment to make?"

"Are we really fighting right now?" He looks at your with narrowed eyes and whip of emphasis on his tongue.

"I'm just speaking in a language I've only ever known with you. "

"What does that mean?" He says, turning his attention on you full now.

"Don't act all almighty, Kennedy. I've treated you a hell of a lot better than you have me. ”

"Oh, my bad. What am I? Your husband?" The annoyance is obvious. His voice grows sharp and jabs at your neck as if threatening to slit it. "Because the whole relationship rule to the game is when you see the one person you hate in this godforsaken town you fucking say it. "

You say nothing.

It strikes a chord in you. Rocks you.

But you light like gasoline at what he's referencing and you're opening your mouth again.

"I don't hate Luis. " You spit it out before your voice falls flat and its like a cool cord wrapping around his neck and choking him.

He makes a noise of bewilderment and his mouth falls open.

"I–" His words catch on his tongue as his adam's apple bobs in his throat.

His eyes search for yours, dark and boring into them with a burning intensity that nearly turns your insides out. Or maybe that's your adrenaline. You're not sure.

"I'm getting Ada. " It's final.

And then he's slipping down the tree without a sound. Just him. Your teeth grit into each other, hand clinging to the tree bark.

You and Leon. Tearing at each other like it's a five dollar shirt.

[inktrailing]

C3E100 SPOILERS

A planetar with a lot of angry things to say / Twitch 03:02:10

this is a long one but I wanted to do this part okay ... also I have an empty brain right now and transcribing is mindless work for me but I think I'm done now

The Raven Queen: "Who sent you?"

Garathran: "I come under my own power. Those that command me tossed aside their scepter of command, tossed aside their very ideals, values, that which they had sworn to do. I followed my commander here."

Corellon, the Arch Heart: "And who is your commander?"

Garathran: "My commander... is the solar Acastriel. I am Garathran. I am a planetar sworn to the service of the Celestial Heights."

Corellon, the Arch Heart: "So, why are you here?"

Garathran: (to Corellon) "Mortal form, I suppose generous in the body of a construct." (to the Raven Queen) "And I suppose that is not your first time wearing mortal form. After all, these rules and edicts are not for you, are they? And never were. What binds you that so binds us? What binds you?"

Corellon, the Arch Heart: "Oh dear. You're getting angry now."

Garathran: "I have been angry. One by one, quiet, the Calamity fading, this great destruction, Domunas gone. Marquet burned, Exandrians dead, us marching to war over and over and over again for those that cannot die and seem unwilling to kill each other."

Corellon, the Arch Heart: "Hmmm."

Garathran: "Cries of misery and destruction were not enough to stay your hands! What stayed the hands of the gods? What called truce between you and the--" (sputters)

And here, before he can even say 'Betrayers', you watch a Celestial, crafted to defeat the forces of evil, made be your hands to fight in holy war, who has been left for years without your guidance or instruction in a truce you called.

Garathran: "What did you think? What did you think would happen when word spread throughout the Celestial ranks? That we would wait for slaughter to commence again after the threat to you, and you alone, had been destroyed? I find you sickening."

And you see here that a little bit of fire moves around the edge of the planetar's eyes.

The Raven Queen: "You speak of things you don't understand, child."

Garathran: (scoffs) "I'm not a child. I'm a construct, only a real one."

Corellon, the Arch Heart: (laughs) "Come. Let me embrace you." The skin begins to almost thread its way towards his fingers as he begins pulling the fire and trying to almost take the anger out of the situation.

You reach out in an attempt to alleviate this. You see that Garathran steps back and says -

Garathran: "Don't take it!! It's mine! Please don't take it. You made us to be good. You made us to fight. It was supposed to be right. Sealing the Betrayers, putting them in the shadows again. I have slain devils for a century thinking it was right and then one day I'm told to sheath my sword.

"And Acastriel comes to us who wonder why and says, 'Do you know what they are doing? Do you know what they're doing? It's a war to us. To them, it is a squabble.' Why did you make us? Why did you make all of this? When you knew that you were hurting this world, why didn't you just leave?"

Corellon, the Arch Heart: "Look. I must say that you are caught in something that obviously is difficult. It's completely incomprehensible to you. I see your pain. I feel it. And you know, sometimes I even ask myself: why are we doing this? This fighting, constant bickering, it's endless. But sometimes, there's a beauty in not understanding. You just play by the rules, as one of my favorites would say. Ignorance can be bliss.

"Now hear me, and hear me very, very carefully. This threat, this thing that threatens us will soon threaten you, and there is no end. At least with us, there is some form of control. It's just the way things are. So please, humor us. What do you know of your time being here, of this thing that threatens the very existence of us?

"And I promise you, we will give you purpose back, for you are our children after all."

Garathran: "With deference to the hands that move creation, if you wanted to make us to serve the gods, you should not have made us good."

(Garathran reaches up and slits his own throat.) And the planetar falls to the ground, dead.

[wasted-women]

ROUND 1C, MATCH 1 OUT OF 8!

Cause of Death & Propaganda Under the Cut:

Allison Argent

Cause of Death: Stabbed by a demon

Propaganda:

She's so cool! She fights with a bow and arrow, she has complicated feelings on her werewolf boyfriend and is allowed to work through that, she's best friends with another girl who's also a banshee (should've dated her) and one of her first scenes is her hitting a dog with her car and bringing it to a vet(she's a mess! She's caring)

she was the protag's girlfriend and only died because the actress had to leave the show. it left a hole in the show that they never really managed to fill, and she is only really brought up to say "let's do this, it's what allison would tell us to do" or "I wish she was here." her father stays on the show and helps them in her memory but he and the protag suffer and learn from it the way most male characters in this trope do. she is brought back to life in the movie but it was mostly an excuse to get the cast back together again and took place years after the show finished. I don't really feel that it counts since she died in season 3 and the show had 6 seasons.

Jenny Calendar

Cause of Death: Neck snapped

Propaganda:

Jenny is so beloved to me. She was sent to Sunnydale, California to watch over the vampire that killed her family (Angel), told that he was supposed to suffer for all eternity, but after he saved her life + after she spent some time with him and the people who cared about him, she realized that she'd changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with continuing a mission of vengeance -- especially since Angel's girlfriend Buffy was also the mentee/surrogate daughter of Jenny's boyfriend Giles! Messy! Despite this, when Angel lost his soul and it came out that Jenny had been sent there to watch him, Jenny was immediately blamed, even though she'd had no idea that Angel would turn evil and TOLD everyone as much! She decided to try and find a way to resurrect old magic and give Angel his soul back, and Angel killed her in retaliation. Parts of the fandom talk about Jenny's death like it was necessary/a good thing/a good writing choice, but I don't think it was. Jenny's death is talked about by the showrunners as "proving that anyone could die," and her dead body was placed in Giles's bed, surrounded by red roses, subsequently inspiring him to try to go on a suicide mission and kill Angel. When the kids are looking at a drawing of her dead body, one of them says, "Wow. Poor Giles." Her death is very clearly engineered to raise the stakes by emphasizing how sad it is for Giles to lose her, and before her death, nearly all of her scenes centered around being Giles's girlfriend/love interest. She was never given a chance to develop as a character, and the only backstory they gave her was designed to push her towards death.

Amber Volakis

Cause of Death: Organ failure after bus crash

Propaganda:

This show likes to introduce new casts of supporting characters and cycle through old ones (some of them leave, some of them stay in reduced roles, and sometimes they come back into a main role later, but sometimes they don't) and I do like that. Amber was probably one of the best ones introduced in the row of new characters in Season 4 and even stayed interesting after being fired. I wasn't a big fan of her dating Wilson but it wasn't the worst thing. And then she was killed off. And her death basically only existed to make Wilson sad, or House sad and "crazy", and just. I don't know. It sucked that her death even happened when she had so much more potential as a living character!

[dailycharacteroption]

Living Vessel (Pathfinder Second Edition Archetype)

(art by xiaofanchuanart on DeviantArt)

It’s a fun trope that’s seen a lot of traction these days, the hero with an entity bound inside them, granting them power at the cost of having a volatile roommate inside their head.

While said entities are traditionally malevolent, not all of them are evil or demonic in nature. Some might be eldritch entities beyond the concept of good and evil, have almost mortal motivations, or even be outright benevolent. However, their behavior is not always in line with the character’s desires or methods, leading to conflict occasionally or often, depending.

Additionally, there is the question of how the entity ended up bound to the hero in the first place. Perhaps it was a willing pact between two entities, or a forcible one where one or both had no say in the matter, such as an offered bargain with a fey, or being dragged onto an altar for a foul ritual, or being bonded by pure accident.

An interesting aspect of this archetype is that it can be thematically involved as much as you like with your base class, either being entirely separate, or flavored as being the reason you have the abilities of the class in question in the first place, such as a witch whose pact is with an entity that is also partially possessing them, or a sorcerer or psychic channeling the power of the bound entity as their own.

Additionally, the archetype also does suggest that your GM might allow you to take one of the pact feats from the pactbinder archetype for even more thematic powers.

On that note, since the exact nature of the living vessel is left vague, you should work with your GM to possibly modify the feats of the class, or even homebrew new ones that fit with the bound entity. For example, Exude Abyssal Corruption might deal fire damage instead if the entity is a devil rather than a demon.

With all this in mind, this archetype offers plenty of leeway to grant new powers or reflavor old powers to be the results of another entity within themselves, with all the quirks and roleplaying opportunities that represents.

The base dedication of the archetype grants the bond with the entity, which must be regularly appeased (the specifics being worked out between you and the GM). If not appeased so, the entity becomes irate (granting greater penalties) and can only be appeased by being granted full control for a day, letting it pursue it’s own agendas. However, the entity comes through for you in emergencies, taking over when the hero would fall unconscious to keep them in the fight a little longer, albeit under their control.

Oftentimes, the entity transforms a limb of it’s host, or extrudes one through their body to grant them a physical attack that they can manifest.

Living Vessels can sometimes tap into the life force of the entity to heal their wounds, but some of the entity’s psyche comes with it, blurring the line between the two until assuaged. The specifics are vague and can range from roleplaying changes to priority shifts or even GM control after repeated uses.

Some bound to demons might ooze with demonic corruption, infusing their attacks and touch with poison.

Those with a fey bond might benefit from illusions that make it difficult for foes to target the real vessel.

Meanwhile, eldritch bondmates may aid in grappling foes with their unknowable limbs, assaulting them both physically and mentally.

The most powerful, through either mastering their control of the entity or coming to a true understanding, may truly merge with the entity and temporarily take on a hybrid form blending the two together, improving their combat prowess and bolstering various generic abilities associated with the archetype.

Finally, don’t forget that your GM might let you take a pact feat from Pactbinder or a modification of such.

For all it’s flexible abilities, this archetype is pretty unintrusive, but it can grant anything from the basic ability to keep standing in an emergency with buffs with a cost, to a natural attack for emergencies, healing, and of course a powerful battle form alongside whatever flavorful abilities you choose to take based on the entity’s nature. In this way, it can provide some useful abilities without inhibiting your main class, making it useful for pretty much all of them.

No matter if you using this archetype to emulate older 1st edition entities like medium or shaman spirits, the alternate self of the abomination psychic discipline, or want to do something entirely new, the dynamic between the character and the entity can be as varied as any other relationship. Perhaps they are truly monstrous and demand horrible acts to be placated, or maybe they’re a playful trickster, a misunderstood grump, or something else. Creativity is absolutely your friend here.

When the angel Lowentiel fell, it was not arrogance or disobedience  that brought him low, but a thirst for justice that had forgotten mercy. And so rather than join the ranks of the Erinyes, he had to be sealed away lest he tear his way through Hell on his bloody quest. However, while his name is striken from records and his true self locked away, there are those who find his name on their lips when vengeance and punishment are on their minds…. Who can invite a measure of the fallen demigod angel into themselves.

If there is anything the azarketi, or gillfolk know too much about, it is the eldritch horrors that sleep beneath the sea awaiting the proper alignment of the stars. However, despite being better informed of the danger than most, some are still seduced by the tales of those that invite the dreaming minds of such horrors into themselves, all for power.

While the party is visiting a village on the outskirts of the kingdom, they manage to spot a brownie house fey. While normally this would be merely a rare chance encounter, the tiny fey recognizes something about the party’s mage… not them themselves… but the fey entity bound to their soul, making the brownie the only lead they have to discovering the true identity of this being.

[hunterssm00n]

Find You

One month after the events of SOTL but before Hannibal (2001): Clarice Starling is an FBI agent on the hunt for one Doctor Hannibal Lecter, and she reflects on their strange connection. | Hannibal Lecter/Clarice Starling |

also on my ao3: here

*cw mild language*

౨ৎ

hunterssm00n © All rights reserved by me. I do not allow this work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

I look for you in the center of the sun / I took a pill but it didn't help me numb / I see your face even when my eyes are shut / But I never really know just where to find you...

"You're dancing circles around me You're fucking crazy Oh oh, you're crazy for me Oh oh, you're crazy for me..." ~ 'Cruel World' - Lana Del Rey

X.x

"Starling. Starling. Starling. A bird with strong wings and feet, capable of flying great distances. Often bears a dark complexion with a vague, metallic sheen coating it's feathers... as if it were dipped in oil. Wouldn't you agree, Clarice?"

"Well, of that I'm not sure, sir. I don't think I've ever seen one; none that I would be able to identify, at least."

"An interesting creature - most phylum cordata usually are. Are you at all interested in the study of species?"

"Sure, I guess, but not of the animal variety, Doctor Lecter."

"Ahh, because there are different species of human, right you are. Is that why you chose to become a figure of law enforcement, Clarice? To study the sea of moral defecation around you, and to try to cleanse the world of it?"

"Mm, when you say it like that, it sounds more like you're describing a scientist, to me. Or maybe a doctor."

"But we are all scientists to our own right, aren't we, Clarice? And doctors are really just glorified scientists, schooled to understand the inner workings of something and to try to find medically accurate compensation where there is a lack. Officers of the law do this as well, but not in the biological sense - more so in the social sense. They weed out those cancerous forms that attempt to spread evil unto the world; cut them out with the steel scalpel of To protect and serve. This requires some science, Clarice. You have done your own studying of the world."

"I have. We all have, sir."

"Sir. Doctor Lecter. So polite. Society lacks manners, nowadays. It's only gonna get worse from here."

"Not a very positive outlook for the future."

"I have hopes, but not high ones for society. Can you really blame me, Clarice? What with people like Buffalo Bill wreaking havoc in different parts of this cruel world?"

"With all do respect, Doctor, one could look at your actions and say the same."

"Mmm, clever girl. Too clever. You don't agree to fight violence with violence? Survival of the fittest? You'd likely lay your body down to form a bridge for those less fortunate, Clarice, and they would end up collapsing you to climb their 'lil selves on up that laddah."

"But you can't fight fire with fire, either, sir. There has to be some sort of balance."

"And if they're not willing to compromise, Clarice? If they are not as sympathetic as you, then what?"

"I guess I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it."

"Starling. Birds are quite impressive creatures, aren't they? The starling itself isn't widely known, but it is a clever little creature indeed. Strong little wings, sturdy feet with which to stand. It also has the ability to mimic the sounds of other animals that it hears - sometimes even the vocal sounds of humans."

"This is very interesting, Doctor Lecter, but I'd really like to get back on topic."

"Does it sound like I'm describing you, Clarice? Do you repeat the things you hear from higher-ups in the department? Has Jack Crawford made you his puppet?"

"What do you think, Doctor? You've studied me at every meeting. Do my words sound like they've been scripted? Do they sound like they would ever come out of Jack Crawford's mouth?"

"No, Agent Starling, they do not. You are indeed a creature all your own."

"So if I am a Starling, sir, what are you?"

"That depends on you, Clarice. I am either the cage keeper, or the one who opens the door and sets you free. The choice is yours."

X.x

"Clarice?"

Her face hurt; felt like it was being mushed against a hard surface. The voice broke through the darkness she had fallen into, and now she was slowly coming back to the world of consciousness, very slowly.

"Clarice,"

She groaned with the effort of opening her eyes; her head felt as heavy as a bowling ball on her thin neck as she tried to raise it. When her eyes fluttered and focused, she noticed the light brown of the smooth top of her desk to the right of her vision. Lifting her head more, she realized it had been resting on the black and white mug shot of Hannibal Lecter in an old newspaper. She'd actually fallen asleep while working. All throughout school she hadn't even done that.

"Jesus," Came a female voice from behind her - probably Ardelia wondering where the hell her partner had been.

Clarice lifted her head all the way up off the desk, wisps from her ponytail sticking to the side of her face that had been covering the newspaper. She absently wiped a hand across her cheek, wondering if it would come away with gray smudges from the newspaper that were probably printed onto her face. Being so close to Doctor Lecter's mugshot on the paper, she noticed that the two dimensionality of the black and white photo did nothing to diminish his stare. It was as if he was staring into the soul of whomever was holding the paper - like he was staring into her soul once again.

Clarice turned around in her chair to face the woman whom she roomed with, Ardelia. Ardelia had graduated the academy shortly after Clarice had, and until they could each afford their own stable homes, they decided to share an apartment to help build their individual savings. They knew each other well - they'd survived the academy as roommates and knew they could live with one another (and only wanted to kill each other on rare occasions). They were now best friends, and knew almost everything about each other, so Ardelia was probably not surprised that even on their day off, Clarice was still working.

The other woman would have only been surprised if it was any other case she was working on.

"Girl, you look rough," Ardelia commented, not unkindly. Rather than suggest food or rest (or a therapist), she knew Clarice well enough to know that those questions would not phase her. Instead she asked: "Any leads?" Clarice appreciated her for everything she said - she knew the other woman was only looking out for her.

"Um," Clarice looked down at the small drool stain slowly seeping into the paper right next to Doctor Lecter's mug shot. "Not yet, today." She rose from the chair and stretched, groaning as her neck cracked from being at the odd angle when her face rested against the desk. How long had she been like that? "Any idea what time it is?" Apparently she'd removed her watch at some point too. God, she was never this disoriented.

"A little after twelve," Ardelia had checked her own watch, peering around Clarice at the desktop. She, herself, was all dressed up - dressy casual in nice black pants and a sweeping flowery top. Clarice had known she had a date this morning - brunch at a little diner in town with another agent that had graduated from the academy.

"How'd it go this morning?" She'd been out with this guy a few times, and Clarice could sense a brewing romance.

"Great," Ardelia replied, picking up the newspaper that lay flat on the desktop, "We're gonna catch a movie later tonight too." She moved the paper closer to her eyes, then brought it back down almost as soon. "He's one hell of a creep, huh?"

Clarice nodded, remembering back to the first time she had met him; the way he calmly stood in the middle of the cell, staring through the glass like he'd been expecting someone. The way his eyes lit up when they settled on hers - like he'd been expecting her.

Ardelia gave an exaggerated shudder and set the paper back down on the desk. "How do you not have nightmares?"

Clarice glanced at the photo, shrugging non-committedly, "I guess I'm just used to it now."

The truth was, she did have nightmares - she just didn't believe that he was the source. Most of the time it was the death of her father; the lambs screaming in terror as they were lead to the slaughter. It didn't happen every night, but enough that she had become used to waking up in the middle of the night, the blankets drenched with her sweat and tears rolling down her cheeks.

The only one she'd ever told about that was Hannibal Lecter. He was the only person in her life who'd ever thought to ask such dark questions.

What she also hadn't told Ardelia was that she did dream of him. Every single night. Not all of them were nightmares, though he somehow wound up in those as well. Sometimes it was simply her walking down the long stretch of concrete in the basement of the asylum; past the jeering, howling inmates in their cells. Some of the cells had lambs in them - some of the inmates were holding little lambs, and that was why they were screaming. Clarice knew he was at the end of the hallway; she just had to walk past this chaos to get to him. Finally, as always, he was waiting there, much like he had been the very first time she'd seen him, except he was much closer to the glass this time. He was awaiting her arrival, and she was anticipating the sight of him. He would smile salaciously at her, and raise a hand to the glass, pressing his palm against it. Stepping closer to the glass, she would raise her own hand and mirror his movement, placing it over his as though there was no glass between them. They would stay like that for three seconds, looking each other right in the eye. He would smile, and she would feel her lips begin to do the same. And then she would wake up.

At the moment, that dream was the most recurring in her mind. She couldn't remember what she had just dreamt about when she'd been asleep a few moments ago, but she would bet her life he had been in it.

She had to find him.

She had to find out why he occupied her every waking thought.

"Christ, I'd never sleep again if I had to be the one to talk to him. You've got nerves of steel." Ardelia commented, kicking off her shoes. "I'm gonna jump in the shower real quick. Do you wanna come to the movie later on too? We could grab one of the other guys to come, keep you company." The woman winked at her, and Clarice rolled her eyes with a smile.

"No thanks, I'm actually gonna go out myself; run some errands, exercise a bit."

"Oh great!" Ardelia looked relieved that her friend was actually leaving the apartment for a reason other than work. Clarice felt bad that she worried her so, but she couldn't stop what she was doing. It had become a mania. She had to catch this man.

Clarice padded into her bedroom to get dressed - she wanted to put her most comfortable workout clothes on. She didn't tell Ardelia that she was still hoping to find something to point her in the right direction. She had searched high and low, found a few things along the way but nothing very significant. She couldn't let him disappear anymore than he already had.

She stripped off her clothing - just an FBI t-shirt and a pair of matching sweatpants she used for pajamas. She was pulling a long sleeved shirt over her head when she saw it - something out of the ordinary. It lay on the top of her comforter, a folded up piece of paper. It wasn't white printer paper, but a cream colored thick paper, like something artists used. Clarice swallowed hard, moving across the carpeted floor to her bed. There is no way... Or was there? There was only one person that she knew of that would leave a note for her with that kind of paper. Artists parchment.

"You sonofabitch," she whispered, reaching out and gently grasping the paper as though she feared it would crumble between her fingers. Her hand trembled slightly as she brought it up off the comforter, but not out of fear. She would never admit the emotions that stirred within her - not in a thousand years. Not even to herself. Slowly she opened the two flaps so that the page was expanded to its fullest extent. It was only folded in half once, and when she opened it she could see why. There was a graphite drawing of a woman holding a baby lamb. The amount of shading and detail that was on the page, which wasn't bigger than 8x5 inches, was incredibly impressive. Not that she was surprised. The artist once told her that his memory had been all he had during his imprisonment. She knew he had an incredible eye for memorization and detail.

What did startle her a little was that the woman in the picture was her. The likeness couldn't have been more accurate - it was like she was looking into a mirror. It momentarily stunned her as she stared into her own eyes, her own arms cradling the tiny lamb to her chest. In the drawing she had what looked to be a cloak wrapped around both of them, leaving her shoulders bare but modestly covering every other part of her.

The second clear thought was that the person who had so carefully placed the note on her bed had to have snuck in sometime within the past two hours, because that was about how long she'd been asleep for. The person who had snuck in had to have meticulously calculated when she would be alone in the apartment - was he trying to time it so that she would be asleep? Had he thought he could catch her while she'd been awake? A million different questions ran through her mind, all at once, leaving her breathless.

The third thing she noticed, the most telling feature of all, was the short inscription on the bottom left side of the page, written in thin black ink.

"Liberty for wolves is death to the lambs."

~H.L.

౨ৎ

AN: I do not own the SOTL/Hannibal franchise or any of its characters. I also do not own the song ‘Cruel World’ by Lana Del Rey, or the song ‘Find You’ by Nick Jonas. The above photos are from Pinterest, and attached are the links to the original images.

[needfantasticstories]

Here Now (4954 words) by SkipBreaker

Art by @hiimgin. Beta reading by @hotcheetohatredwastaken. Additional info at the bottom.

Summary: Sky, Twilight, and Hyrule go on patrol, and grapple with Hyrule's past.

HERE NOW

 

Part 1: CAMP

Logs crackled pleasantly in the fire pit Hyrule and Legend had built.

Hyrule sat on the end of his bedroll and stared at the orange flames that kept the chill evening air at bay. Fire was a luxury back home, but common while traveling with the eight other heroes.

They’d come through a portal to a new era at midday. Not mine , he’d realized with relief. The grass was too green, and the sky too clear. None of the others recognized it either.

With no sign of black-blooded monsters, or nearby settlements, Wild had insisted they camp and restock on elixirs for the coming fights.

The sun glowed a white-gold as it settled into a shroud of clouds above the horizon. Time stopped searching the trees and settled into cleaning his armor. Sky sat on the opposite side of the fire and began tuning his harp. Wind dragged Four to sit with him, complaining about his dull knife. Twilight and Warrior joined Wild by the fire to chat. 

The trees slowly darkened into silhouettes, narrowing the world down to the glow of their campfire.  

Legend huffed as he sat and leaned heavily on Hyrule and pulled out a ripped tunic and a small, fabric lined box of needles and threads. 

“Hey, I’m not your furniture,” Hyrule protested.

“Fine. I’ll keep my Roc cloak for myself tonight,” Legend replied coolly.

“Oh fine, go on then. Ravio has been rubbing off on you.” Hyrule laughed and braced his legs to his chest to support Legend’s weight. With a smile, he continued to watch the fire and his brothers. 

Savory aromas of beef and herbs filled the clearing as Wild stood by the fire, working his subtle magic that, despite Hyrule’s assurance, he firmly insisted wasn’t magic at all.   

The sky grew pink and purple as the sun dropped below the hills. The shing , shing of Four guiding Wind through how to sharpen his knife made a steady, musical rhythm to Sky’s soft harp strums. Twilight and Wild bantered as the cook served bowls for Warrior to pass around. 

Wind held up his blade and tested the edge with a bit of rope. It cut the strands cleanly. “I can work so much faster with this! Can I take you home with me, Smithy?” 

Four smiled proudly. “You can pay me back with a copy of your star charts sometime.” 

Wind let his hands fall to his lap, and frowned. “Do you ever think about what will happen with us after all this? After we stop Shadow?” 

The camp grew quiet. 

Sky broke the silence, gazing fondly at his harp. “I imagine we’ll find our way back to our own times. At least, I hope so.” 

“Same, though I think Wild might try to rope me into his world if I let him,” Twilight laughed and clapped Wild on the back.

“I’d miss your old muzzle too much to leave you alone,” Wild snorted in answer. “I suspect you’ll find a way back to my world someday, one way or another.”

“I hadn’t thought it possible we could stay long in each other’s worlds. What about you, Legend? What are your plans?” Hyrule asked. It would have been a miracle if the Hero of Legend could visit him in his own time, somehow. If only his time wasn’t still suffering from famine and the lingering armies of Ganon hunting him to resurrect the king of evil. But even Wild’s era had a few pools of Malice here and there, right? Still, it was healthy. Who would ever want to come to his era? It was a death wish.

“Well, as much as I love roughing it with you lot in the mud and rain, I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed, in my own home. In peace.”

A cold breeze found its way through the trees and coursed up Hyrule’s spine. He stared at the fire in thought while Legend continued to gush about his orchard. 

“What about you, Traveler? What do you look forward to when this is over?” Four asked, digging into the soup Warrior was passing out.

Hyrule mulled over their various homes. Time had a ranch with Malon. Sky had his floating village, Wind had Outset Island. Twilight longed for Ordon, Four his forge, Warrior his fiancee and her castle. Even Wild had purchased a house, though he admitted he barely used it. 

Hyrule missed the castle, but he couldn’t go back until the monster stopped hunting him. His cave? Perhaps, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. Not like this. This was home. Among friends, traveling the world, helping protect people and discovering more about fighting and magic and history than he could ever have dreamed. He’d seen islands floating in the sky! Forests more full of fairies than trees! With Wild’s Zora armor, he’d even swam up a waterfall, and used his glider to soar back down to earth! He’d never be able to do that in the polluted rivers back home! And snow! Twilight still held the record for shield surfing, but he was catching up. 

Hylia, the goddess he’d never known existed before this journey, had truly blessed him with a refuge from the storm of his homeland. 

“Traveler?” 

“I don’t know. I suppose… I’m already happy.”

“Aw!” Warrior set Hyrule’s soup down and plopped beside him. He put an arm around him and rubbed his hair roughly with his other hand. “This kid! I’m actually gonna miss you. Not like that one.” He pointed to Legend. 

“Tch, that’s a lie,” Hyrule scoffed and shoved Warrior away with his shoulder. The Captain fell sideways but held onto Hyrule, pulling them both down. 

“Watch it, Wars!” Legend yelled. 

Hyrule tried to pull free of the Captain’s arm, but the knight held fast. Hyrule put all his might behind it, his arms burning from the strain, and by inches he loosened the Captain’s grip. 

“You’re getting stronger, but not there yet!” The Captain groaned.

“I nearly stabbed my thumb, thank you very much!” Legend yelled at Warrior. 

“Hey now! Hyrule’s the one who shoved!” 

“He was defending my honor, so it’s your fault.”

Hyrule and Warrior both broke into laughter—Hyrule in proud victory and Warrior in admitted defeat—and the Captain finally let go and collapsed on the ground. 

Hyrule offered his hand. 

The Captain grabbed it and tried to pull him down, but Hyrule was ready and hauled him upward. 

“Fine, Collector, keep your blindspot. Thanks, Rulie. Here’s dinner.” Warriors passed them their bowls, which had mercifully survived the scuffle. 

Hyrule savored the stew, letting steam warm his face before taking a bite of the creamy, savory broth. He looked around as he ate, and watched the others quickly finishing their own meals.

Let these days last, he thought. He knew it was selfish. It would have to end, as everything did. But he didn’t want to imagine a future without them in it anymore than a future living on the run, without Dawn and Aurora. He knew, logically, that they would all part someday. 

But not today. 

He watched as Wild set aside the cooking pot and pulled out an older exclusively for making elixirs. Hyrule turned away and instead watched Legend resume his careful, methodical stitching; but the Champion lingered in his thoughts. He didn’t like knowing where the Champion’s elixirs came from. He pitied the beetles, butterflies and lizards, and the monster parts smelled awful. Then again, at least Wild found a way to channel the evil remnants of Ganon’s power into something useful. How strange. How was it possible? Could Dawn, proficient as she was with magic and rebirth, find a way to change the poison in their land into a blessing, somehow? What sort of ingredients like the beetles and butterflies would it require— He stopped the thought dead; he didn’t like where it was going at all, and he focused instead on Legend’s stitching while the spike in his heartbeat settled. 

Time broke the comfortable silence that had settled over them after dinner. “We should scout one more time before settling in for the night. Sky, Twilight, Hyrule, it’s your turn to run a perimeter check.”

With a hum of grumbled complaints about being half-asleep already, the trio yawned, and stretched.

Time clapped Twilight’s shoulder as he left, then Sky’s, nodding in unspoken but clear appreciation to both.

“We can work on your footwork for the landing before breakfast, if you’re up for it, Hyrule,” Time whispered to him at his turn. Hyrule smiled and nodded, then hurried to follow after Sky and Twilight into the woods. 

None of them saw the storm until sheets of rain descended.

 

Part 2: SHELTER

Hyrule braced his shield over his head. A torrent of rain driven by a wall of wind pelted Hyrule and Sky. Drops struck like tiny arrows, stinging Hyrule’s legs through his trousers. They clung to the steep hillside that exposed them to the storm, inching back the way they’d come. Before the rains veiled the land, the campfire was easy to see, but in the gale Hyrule had lost his sense of direction. Several trees above them thrashed and groaned, threatening to break and roll down over them.  

“I still can’t find the trail!” Twilight shouted over the storm.  

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Sky looked around, his hair plastered to his face where it stuck out from under his sailcloth.

Hyrule looked around too, and in a flash of lightning, he found what he needed. 

“There’s a gap in the rocks up there! Let’s go there until the storm passes!” Hyrule yelled over the rumble of thunder.

The gap in the steep hillside turned out to be a deep cave. While the gently rising path blocked wind and rain, they radiated the cold back to them, and the three shivered as they explored the length of the narrow room. Twilight led the way in with his lantern. 

The stone entrance slammed shut behind them.

“It’s a dungeon,” Twilight pointed out the obvious. 

Sky let out a long-suffering sigh, pulled out a torch, and once alight he raised it high.  

The cave opened into a massive hall lined with brick. Triangle symbols adorned the upper reaches in a band of simple geometric patterns. Only the back wall remained in a more natural state, save for the massive relief carving. 

Stone steps led up to a dais before the rock wall where stood a massive stone beast that seemed trapped in the rock, leaning forward in an effort to free itself. It sat on a cracked throne three time’s Hyrule’s height with a door hiding in the shadows between its feet. 

Roughly cut features, gouges still evident from the tools used to carve it, cast dancing shadows all over its bulbous, misshapen body. Two massive tusks jutted from the wall, possibly added later. One had broken off and its shattered remains littered the dais. The wide face had a grotesque, triangular nose and gaping holes for eyes. The movement of Twilight’s lamp made the eyes seem to shift back and forth between them. 

It wasn’t just the statue that made Hyrule panic.

Seeing the rough boar carving in this unfamiliar dungeon, a massive homage to beast Ganon. 

What lay before him, at its feet, chilled his blood.

Sky and Twilight stopped on either side of him.

“What in the clouds is that?” Sky asked, moving closer to the enormous carving. 

“Remember how we all faced a being named Ganon? That’s him.” Twilight spat at the statue’s feet. 

Sky frowned at the hideous thing,running his hand along one carved leg. He sneered at the jagged, artless edges. The statue barely resembles the beast, but somehow captured all of his malevolence.

“Hyrule, are you okay?”

Not really, he thought, but he dared not say it. They had a dungeon to escape.

“I’m fine.” He forced himself to borrow a smile and look forward to the dark hallway under the beast’s legs. He refused to think about the bowl-shaped altar at its feet, or how the groove from the center to the edge would pour any liquid inside out of the bowl. 

Into the waiting ashes of Ganon.

He pushed onward. This wasn’t his era. It couldn’t be. Too green, too clean, too clear-skied.

Sky moved ahead of him, taking the lead as his torch burned brighter than Twilight’s lantern. Soon, he stopped. 

“I see two doors ahead, left, right, and forward. Any guesses on where to start?”

“Left,” Twilight and Hyrule said.

“I was going to say right. I guess I’m outvoted.” Sky shrugged.

 

Part 3: LEFT

It took all of Hyrule’s Thunder spell, or “Hyrule’s Fury” as Wild insisted on calling it, to clear the horde of skeleton soldiers that rose over and over from the floor in the left room. By the time Twilight revealed the hidden wizzrobe with his ghost lantern and Sky blasted it with a skyward strike, the trio had used up most of their supplies.

“There’s a chest!” Hyrule called out, and ran to the back of the room.

The lid creaked open, and after brushing aside cobwebs he found a large iron key.

“Looks like we might have a way out.”

“Door on the right?” Sky asked, with a mocking grin, hands on his hips.

“Door on the right,” Twilight said with a sigh, marched ahead. 

Hyrule hurried to follow after the taller hero. 

Part 4: RIGHT

Twilight pushed open the other door and led the way inside. 

Unlike the brick walls of the earlier rooms, this one remained untamed. Stalactites and stalagmites reached for one another, and the largest ones had joined into eight massive pillars around the room. Luminous crystals, like the stones Wild had shown them, lit the ceiling and walls in a cold, eerie glow. Water dripped from the spiked ceiling.

In the shadows at the far end of the room, between pillars of stalagmites, a monster stirred. 

Hyrule gasped in surprise. He knew this beast! 

In the dim crystal light, Hyrule could see the blue lynel pace, turn, and stare them down. 

Black eyes glittered as it studied them. It cantered closer. The lion-face glowered and bared its knife-sharp teeth. Its human-like chest raised up a massive longsword in both hands. Iron-shod hooves stomped, reverberating through the stone floor.  

Then it looked directly at Hyrule, and its eyes narrowed. The grimace flipped into a feral grin.

“Sacrifice!” it roared.

Hyrule gripped his sword and stepped forward. He wouldn’t let his brothers suffer for his curse. He could handle a lynel. He just had to keep it from burning them all, and himself from bleeding, or else—

Sky held up his blade. “What under heaven is it?”

Hyrule pulled out his magic shield. “Go back to the entrance. Both of you need to bomb that statue into rubble,” he ordered. “I can deal with him.”

“Alone?” Twilight asked incredulously. 

“I killed dozens of them before Wind’s age.”

“No. It’s too dangerous for any of us to go alone. We stay together,” Twilight barked. 

“Fine! Shields up! It breathes fire.”

“At least we’ll finally dry off , ” Sky grumbled, adjusting his shield. 

They prepared just in time. The lynel stopped his approach and roared, blasting fire at them.

Hyrule blocked it with his shield, and the fire quickly faded. Twice more it hurled the flames with the same result. 

Roaring with fury, the lynel charged, galloping louder than a thunderstorm. 

Hrulle’s world shrank down to the fury in the lynel’s eyes. His friends could not suffer from his monsters. He would not let his horrors become theirs, nor would he let it take them away from him.

Hyrule yelled at the monster, and ran. 

The lynel turned away from the other two heroes, nearly tripping over its own legs to chase him. 

Hyrule dodged between dripping pillars, twisting and weaving through the narrowest gaps he could find, the beast on his tail. He led it to a far corner of the deep cavern. He turned with his shield high, planted his feet, raised his sword, and braced himself for the impact. 

It grinned as it charged, seeing him cornered. 

Time had warned him. He still needed to master the landing. 

But he could not risk waiting now.

The lynel’s snarling face held his gaze as the broadsword slammed into his shield with a terrible wrenching sound.  It cut through the shield! A pulse, like lightning, shot up his right arm. His vision swam as the blow threatened to shove him down. 

But the lynel staggered back. It stared blankly at him, stunned. 

It worked! Now, for the rest!

Hyrule jumped with every ounce of strength he could muster in his legs, and not with the aid of magic but purely his own strength. Let the momentum carry you, The memory of Time’s deep voice calmed him. 

His body rose into the air in a dense, forceful way so different from his Fairy form—raw, propulsive momentum in place of delicate wings gently riding the air. The world curved gracefully as he somersaulted higher, his sword at the ready. 

Helm splitter. 

His blade slammed into the beast’s skull. 

Dark ooze clung to the edge of his blade as he rolled forward. 

Black blood? 

For a moment, he remained weightless, then panic set in as he began to descend. If he had enough magic, he’d have cast his fairy spell to save himself, but none remained. 

Remember, don’t try any of this until you can stick the landing.

The ceiling and the floor spun and merged into a smear of light and dark, His stomach swooped and churned as gravity grabbed him. He catapulted downward, and tried in vain to grab something, anything.

Far beyond the lynel, his legs slammed onto merciless stone, but his body continued forward until his head cracked against the cold stone. He lay in a blinding haze of numbness and confusion.

Through the ringing in his ear, he heard a muffled yell. 

Someone was shouting, the sound reverberating painfully in his skull. The words slowly pieced together. It was …the kingdom? No, his name . 

“Hyrule! Wake up!” 

He tried to sit up, but he couldn’t! Couldn’t see! Couldn’t breathe! 

A familiar hand grabbed his shoulder as he gaped like a fish, trying to pull in the intangible substance all around him, but his lungs refused to draw the air in. 

At last, his lungs opened, and he gasped, painfully loud to his aching ears. His vision returned. The ringing sound finally stopped.

“Hyrule? You with us? Thank Hylia!”

He tried to make sense of what he saw. Sky’s worried face. Twilight’s frown. 

“‘Rulie, are you alright?” The ranch hand asked gruffly. 

Hyrule winced as he sat up. Too much happened all at once. 

His head. His arm. His brothers. Where was the lynel?

Sky moved closer so Hyrule could lean on his shoulder. Hyrule appreciated the rest, and collapsed onto him. The pressure in his head and on his arm grew stronger, sharper. 

“Nice back slice.” Sky nodded to Twilight.

“Good timing with that skyward strike,” Twilight panted in reply, clapping Sky on the back. “And you, that looked familiar.”

Hyrule didn’t have the energy to respond, only nodding with a faint smile. 

“Rulie?” Twilight asked, and moved closer.

Sky carefully pulled up Hyrule's arm, but Hyrule gasped in pain and refused to look, not yet, watching Sky’s reaction instead. 

Sky’s worried eyes told Hyrule enough. He had already felt warm liquid trickling down the side of his face and down his arm. Pressure built unbearably in his head, and worse in his shield arm. The rush of adrenaline was hiding the worst of his injuries, but he knew it was bad.

He had to know. He had to fix it.  

Carefully, Hyrule touched his temple and looked down at his hands.

Blood. 

Hyrule’s throat tightened. The pressure in his right arm built into a searing pain. Hyrule winced and finally looked down at it. The lynel’s blade had easily sliced through his leather bracer and cut deep into his arm. More blood. He clapped his hand over the gash, but struggled to keep any more of the cursed liquid from spilling out. One thought raced over and over in his mind: make it stop or they’ll come! And he muttered, “I can’t stop it. I can’t… I have to stop this…or they won’t stop coming…” He pressed his hand desperately to the wound, but still it spilled out. “They can’t know I’m here!” He curled over his arm as if that might somehow stop the bleeding. 

“Rulie, it’s okay! I promise,” Twilight chided gently, “I don’t have potions, but I can bandage these up for you until we get back.” 

“Let me see what I’ve got,” Sky offered, and he began rummaging through his pack. 

Hyrule had not bled this much, for this long, in months. Frantic memories and nightmares jumbled together in his mind, but he resisted them, trying to hold on to the presence of his friends. I’m here. Safe. No cult. No ashes! Just the stupid altar , he tried to reassure himself. But he could not stop shaking. They can smell it. They’ll come.

He let go and searched frantically for a potion he knew he didn’t have. Still, he rummaged, hoping he’d miscounted or had another secret secret backup. Nothing. Blood slipped out from under his fingers. He could not keep it closed! He had to do something .

“Sky, did you happen to get any from Wild before we left?” Twilight asked.

“No, but I—”

“I have to stop this! Now! Stand back!” Hyrule yelled at them. They didn’t understand, and he didn’t have time to explain. He groaned as the throbbing pain in his arm compounded. He didn’t look forward to the flames. He had barely enough magic built up for it. He reached for his sword and let it blaze, the rubies and silver hilt enhancing the red light. He held out his gored arm and lowered the flames toward the wound. He winced at the heat, but it had to be done. He’d spilled too much already, but if they washed it away fast enough–

“Stop!” Sky and Twilight shouted in tandem. 

“I’ve got plenty of potions,” Sky lied, and sat beside Hyrule, holding out a quarter-full glass. 

Hyrule tossed his sword aside and drained the bottle. The warm, clean rush of healing spread across his whole body. He was relieved by the familiar tickle of skin growing and knitting closed. Only exhaustion remained.

Hyrule handed the bottle back to Sky. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to drink it all.”

“Don’t apologize. You needed it. We’ll give you more once we return to the camp.”

Still shaking more than he expected, he let Sky wipe the blood from his arm and hands while he caught his breath. 

“Is…is all this something we should know about?” Sky murmured to Hyrule.

Twilight crouched at his side, looking calm and relaxed but for a small frown that betrayed his anxious concern. “What’s the story, Rulie? Why are you so worried about closing up your arm?” 

They had to know. He just never wanted to… actually tell them. He felt dizzy.

Don’t overthink, just say it. Am I a Hero of Courage or not?   

“If my blood touches Ganon’s ashes… he’ll come back. He cursed me as he died. Monsters from my era can track the smell of my blood for miles.” 

Sky’s electric-blue eyes widened in shock. “As he died? He cursed you?”

Twilight sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around him. 

Sky sat down heavily and did the same.

“The statue back there? That altar at his feet is for me. For my blood to… I think we’re in an era after mine. They’ll never give up.” He looked at his hands, still stained between his fingers with blood. “People have died to help me before so I could escape the ritual. They didn’t deserve to die just for me, but we can’t let Ganon come back.” 

Twilight’s eyes shone bright with shock, anger, and sorrow. The pity hurt worst of all. 

“I…I’ve been able to take them on for a long time! Usually it’s no trouble to face them, especially if I’m alone and don’t have to worry about anyone else getting hurt. But, there’ve been… I just like being with you, with our group.”

“Faron’s light, ‘Rule,” Twilight sighed, “I’m sorry. Being hunted? I’ve seen what that’s like.” He hugged Hyrule tighter. 

The two held him closer between them. 

It felt so good to talk about it at last. Hyrule let his thoughts spill out. “And I know it won’t last, but I don’t want to go back. Not with Ganon’s monsters chasing me, keeping me away from everyone I care about, waiting for one wrong move too many. I just hope someone can stop him quickly when it happens. Maybe you all can come to my era, and stop him after I’m g–” 

“Rulie!” Sky growled, “Don’t say that! You’re not going to slip up. We won’t let that happen. I swear it. We’ll always have your back.”

Twilight jumped in too. “There’s no way they’ll win. You’re too tough, Traveler.”

“But it’s only a matter of time! I’m going to slip up again! And this time there won’t be a spell or a rescue or a portal to escape.” Hyrule took a shuddering breath and clutched Twilight’s arm. “I can’t keep running forever.”

“Rulie, we’ll always have your back, curse or not,” Sky said quietly. 

“We can figure this out. I’ve broken curses before.” Twilight’s deep voice reverberated in his hair. “It wasn’t easy, but you’ve got a lot of us on your side. Din, I’d bet a hundred rupees Four figures something out within a week. The kid’s got quite a mind.”

Hyrule relaxed and smiled a little at the flood of ideas. Maybe. Just maybe. Four took puzzles personally . Could he really find a way to break the curse?

Sky squeezed his shoulder. “And we can ask all our Zeldas too. You know, I dont think it’s just the Shadow that brought us together. I believe Hylia is guiding us. She wants us to work together. Perhaps this is one more reason. And we’ll do everything we can, here and now, while we’re together.”

“And long after.” Twilight’s whisper was barely audible, but he’d curled his head down closer, burying his face in the Traveler’s hair. 

“Thank you,” Hyrule whispered back. A smile warmed his cheeks. Finally sharing his curse felt like dropping a heavy pack at the end of a long trek, and he breathed deeply. What chance did Ganon’s spell have against the will of such heroes? For this moment, the curse didn’t matter at all. He was safe, and surrounded by the best family he’d ever known. For the first time in ages, he felt a clear spring of hope in his spirit.  

They sat a long time, resting together in the light of Twilight’s lantern, keeping each other warm in the cold room.  

“Alright, unless we plan to stay the night here and keep everyone else worried sick, we’d better find out where this key goes.” Twilight said. Clouds of dust filled the air and he brushed off and collected his items.

Hyrule and Sky joined him. 

Part 3: CLEAR 

The third door looked simple, and when they stepped through, nothing stirred in the light of Twilight’s lantern. No treasure gleamed. Only a stone stairway far ahead leading up to a door. 

“No treasure?” Twilight looked around. 

“There!” Sky and Hyrule pointed in the same direction.

Cracks riddled the wall to the left. Twilight barked a laugh and held out a hand to Sky. The knight passed him a bomb, and soon the wall burst into rubble, tiny stones rolling past their feet. 

They ran through the dust to see.

“By Hylia,” Sky gasped.

The room sparkled as the lantern’s humble glow reflected a thousand different directions over the gold and jewels piled on the ground. Gems snatched the faint lamplight and reflected it back tenfold in their brilliant hues.  

“They’re going to be so jealous,” Hyrule said breathlessly. “How much do you think we can fit in our pouches?”

“Let’s find out,” Twilight answered.

Once the large key opened the last door, they passed from the cramped cave stairway and hurried out into the fresh night air. Stars filled the sky, the storm just a dark line on the horizon.  They stood near the top of the same steep hill they’d entered. 

Not far beyond the base of the hill, the campfire glowed between the trees. They must have saved or restarted the fire somehow. 

Sky looked thoughtfully at the small light below.

“Hyrule, do any of them know? I only ask because I can keep a secret here and there, but I’m not the best at keeping track of who knows and who doesn’t.” Sky smiled a little self-consciously, and palmed the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I haven’t told anyone, but Legend probably figured out some of it. He always slips me extra potions.”

“We can sit on this for a while, if you need time. Nothing new for me,” Twilight barked a laugh. 

“No, I want to tell them.” Hyrule said. I won’t keep running alone. “Let’s get it over with. We’ve got a lot to explain, hopefully before Time gives us his stink-eye.” 

Twilight laughed before turning into his wolf form. Hyrule followed him down the hill toward the light ahead.

THE END-ish

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hyrule & Sky (Linked Universe), Hyrule & Twilight (Linked Universe), Hyrule & Time (Linked Universe), Hyrule & Warriors (Linked Universe), Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe), Four & Wind (Linked Universe) Characters: Hyrule (Linked Universe), Twilight (Linked Universe), Sky (Linked Universe), Time (Linked Universe), Legend (Linked Universe), Warriors (Linked Universe), Wind (Linked Universe), Four (Linked Universe), Wild (Linked Universe) Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hyrule (Linked Universe) Has a Blood Curse, Blood and Injury, Human Sacrifice

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight: Fairest Midnight - 11. Holy Water, Stakes, and Other Such Things

Summary: Lessons of vampire hunting were inevitable, though you hadn’t exactly expected for Epel to be quite so excited about what it took to take vampires when he was one himself. But at the very least you were getting to have a bit of fun out of your lessons in between your exhausting sparring session.

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!

Trigger Warning: Vampire

Word Count: 1371

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

I didn’t know what I had expected for my training. But it certainly hadn’t been actively and repeatedly having to fight one of my three vampire friends, interspersed with him listing the varying weaknesses and habits of vampires.

“Good, Trickster,” His eyes were alight as he dodged me for what felt like the thousandth time in the middle of a large room that he’d cleared of all furniture specifically for this purpose. 

Epel and Vil watched from the sidelines, being spared yet another sparring session as Rook continued his nightly lessons with me. 

I’d been waking up with sore muscles ever since I’d first asked for my friend to teach me, but I hadn’t missed a single night yet. Because, as miserable as the persistent sparring was, I also knew it was important. Especially if I was going to become the next vampire hunter.

I swung the stake-shaped pool noodle I’d been given as my practice weapon at his chest, trying to finally land a blow that would signal my success, only to get caught and gently thrown across the room. 

I landed on my feet this time before falling forward and having to catch myself on my hands. But that moment of lost balance was all he needed, and Rook zipped forward at inhuman speeds, grasping me by my forearms and lifting me from the ground with ease. 

He smiled sympathetically as he looked up at me, “And I suppose that is the end of this round.”

I drooped as I dangled in his unnaturally strong grasp, exhausted as I accepted my defeat yet again with a nod.

“T'inquiète, t'inquiète, Trickster. You are getting better every night. You almost had me three times this round,” Rook’s tone was cheery as he sat me down, brushing off my clothes affectionately before leading me over to the table where Vil and Epel sat.

Epel perked up as soon as I plopped down in the chair next to him, “You are getting better, Y/n! Just think, you won against me earlier.”

I smiled slightly at his encouraging words, even though we both knew that win had only been because he’d gotten tangled up in the carpet’s edge.

I glanced over to see Vil silently holding out a bottle of water to me and smiled slightly as I accepted the bottle, “Thanks.”

Epel watched me for another moment before twisting towards Rook, “So the main way of killing vampires is a stake?”

Rook nodded dutifully, but he’d accepted full responsibility for teaching both me and Epel about the ins and outs of vampire weaknesses, “Oui, though sunlight is probably the easiest method to destroy our kind. It is best to use stakes made from oak, ash, or hawthorn, though.”

I nodded silently, remembering the vampire Rook had killed not all that long ago when I’d first found out he was a vampire hunter. My plan before he’d shown up was to get out into the sunlight, where she wouldn’t have followed. 

Or at least she wouldn’t unless she was well and truly insane.

“Fire also works well,” Vil was quite calm in his assertion, as if we weren’t talking about the best easy to kill those of his kind. But then he did agree with Rook that sometimes killing certain vampires was a necessary evil.

“Can we be drowned?” I glanced over at Epel with raised eyebrows; it was like he was more interested in this conversation than I was. But after a brief moment, I looked over to see Rook and Vil wearing matching, thoughtful expressions.

“I suppose if you were to find a way to trap them underwater, that would work… but I’ve never actually heard of a vampire drowning,” Vil frowned as he looked towards Rook, who nodded with a rather concerning degree of fascination in his eyes.

“Yes, if you were to use weights, you could imprison them at the bottom of a body of water, but I do not know if they would drown….” He trailed off thoughtfully, only for Epel to pipe back up, a certain gleam to his blue eyes.

“What if it were holy water?” He looked almost pleased by his thought, like he’d solved a grand mystery.

“Theoretically they would eventually die a very painful death, yes, but finding that amount of holy water,” Vil shook his head with a slight grimace, and I found myself nodding in agreement with him. I’d only ever heard of holy water in vials or on church grounds. And vampires weren’t supposed to be able to go on consecrated ground anyway.

“Do garlic and mustard seeds actually work?” I eyed Vil as I spoke, noting that eating Italian before he visited had never seemed to have been an issue.

“Mustard seeds scattered on the ground must be picked up by a vampire before they can continue, but they are very fast. Garlic works as a slight deterrent, but only in large amounts,” Rook nodded with a slightly amused smile as he answered.

Vil’s eyes met mine in an almost meaningful way, “Some vampires also develop an allergy to garlic.”

Epel’s nose wrinkled slightly, “Like a skin allergy?”

Rook chuckled and nodded before Vil leaned forward with a smile, “Of course, it's also rumored that if you were to sneak garlic into a vampire’s meal, that would affect them too.”

I was barely able to keep from smiling as I continued to hold Vil’s gaze, “Sooo, eat lots of garlic before facing any vampires so that if they do bite you, you can at least get petty revenge in the form of hives?”

 I felt my eyebrows rise, but I still managed not to smile as I took a sip from my bottle. Vil, who looked like he was trying his best to suppress a smile at my words, shook his head slightly. His voice lowering to a softer, amused tone, “But you’re not supposed to be getting bitten.” 

“I’d eat Italian before hunting anyway, just to be safe,” I grinned at Epel as the young boy leaned over and whispered to me, nodding firmly as I agreed with him.

“We’ll also need to train you with an ax,” Rook's sudden assertion had me stopping in the middle of attempting to put the lid on my bottle back on.

He met my confused gaze with a cheerful smile, “Decapitation is also an effective way of killing vampires.”

Vil shrugged elegantly at his words as he sat back back in his chair, “Drastic, but effective. But then decapitation works for most creatures.” He looked my way calmly, again, somehow utterly unbothered by the topic of conversation.

“Decapitation is really only ever done when the vampire is asleep during the daytime hours, if you have been able to find where they rest,” I nodded slowly at Rook’s words. Grimacing slightly at the thought of chopping off a vampire’s head while it was asleep.

In the end, I was going to be killing vampires anyway, but somehow doing so while they were asleep just seemed worse.

“What about crosses and other holy symbols?” Epel nodded at my question, looking towards the two instructors with a slight tilt to his head.

Vil nodded slightly at my words, “Crosses typically work best as they are one of the most easily recognized holy symbols, but other symbols will work as long as the vampire recognizes them and their religious nature. Holy symbols typically do not kill, but rather serve as a means for driving them away or as a protective measure.”

Rook nodded, tilting his head slightly as he looked towards me, “We cannot touch holy symbols, we recognize and the more religious the vampire, the stronger the effect of the holy symbol. As the Roi du Poison said, holy symbols drive vampires away and can serve as a sort of shield.”

I nodded slightly, adding buying a crucifix necklace and maybe other religious jewelry to my to-do-list, amongst other things. At the very least, those would be easy to obtain. 

Holy water, stakes, and other such items would no doubt be a little more difficult. And that was even considering the fact that Rook had already begun teaching me how to make stakes for myself.

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[fantasy-relax]

Resident Evil Village Donna Brainrot

My version(hc) :

Donna Angelina Beneviento.

She is in the spectrum. She is very curious, gentle, playful and shy(at first). Sometimes she prefers to be silent not talking at all, sometimes she will be mumbling or humming when she is working, sometimes she will ramble about a particular plant or doll.

Sometimes she will play with her nieces others she will only sit and let Angie play in her place.

She prefers tea, loves dolls, puzzles, mistery and horror. (goth gf)

She is touch starved, she has separation anxiety, she is very picky with the fabric of her clothes. She dislikes loud noises, she can tolerate screaming but thunder, metal scraping etc is very annoying/scary for her.

She will make tea and medicine for Salvatore, give dead bodies and "special herbs" to Karl and Alcina. She helps Miranda with rebellious subjects.

She is a little shit and loves to scare her siblings and create chaos (because she misses them and they don't visit her). Cassandra "Rawr" was her doing.

Miranda and the lords/lady don't visit her often because donna has separation anxiety and powers that can't be evaded easily. There has been times were she has keep them trapped for weeks forcing Miranda to use her connection to megamycete to control her and put her to sleep, after waking up she was a mess but they couldn't indulge her so she is left alone. They avoid going because this but she is free to visit the problem is that she dislikes being away from her home so is a short visit. They call her as often as they can and send her gifts; Karl materials for her dolls, alcina meat and wine, Salvatore cheese and fish, Miranda seeds, books and "playmates".

So she is alone in her house with her creations most of the time.

She is petty, slightly sadistic, voyeuristic, and her curiosity can be deadly for her playmate/victim.

Now as child her parents were pretty obvious with their favoritism and disdain. They would punish her when she retailed against the servants that would overstimulated her or hurt her because in their eyes she overreacted. On the other hand Claudia was a good sister and tried to make her happy and respected her boundaries.

Donna will put bugs in the clothes of the bad servants, tacks in their shoes and poison in their drinks/food nothing deadly but very painful. Nobody could prove she did it, to the point of believing that there was a ghost in the mansion.

If she wanted new clothes she couldn't ask, her parents will denied it unless it was lost or teared apart something that casually happened in laundry days. Some servants that were cruel to her ended fired because they stealed or fighting each other for some reason.

There was a occasion were some boys call her awful names and throw rocks to her. Later they fall in hole filled with poison ivy and glass shards, when they tried to climb rocks were thrown at them.

Nobody believe them when they said that the retard Beneviento was the culprit. Just look at her! She is scared of her own shadow, she can't talk she can't even look at your eyes she is too stupid to plan something like that.

Her parents punishments teach her to be sneaky and how to manipulate people to see what they wanted while doing what she wanted. The puppeteer that hides in the shadows.

She got her scar after a accident while playing with Claudia, her parents were mad because at least she had a pretty face if she keep her mouth shut and acted normal they could have married her off, now it will impossible.

Claudia was a mess thinking that Donna hated her, Donna made a doll for her beloved sister to show that she wasn't mad at her but she took a look at her father dolls and found that she didn't vibe with it, so the doll was creepy and unnerving she even give it bone arms! That was hard to do. Claudia gladly(guilty) accepted and called the doll Angie in honor of the creator.

Then a few months later a plague kill almost all the servants, Claudia got sick and died too . Her parents followed her. Miranda took care of her, furious that they were capable of leaving their child alone if she had another child besides Eva when she died she would have never gone to the cave.

So Miranda raised Donna as much as she could with the help of Alcina.

The thing is that their morals were fucked up so:

Donna poisoned a rude maid? Well she deserve it. You know what? Here a more deadly plant.

Donna was curious about the human body? Here put this gloves and take a closer look to this body.

Donna wanted revenge on the people that hurt her? Make a list darling, I need wine and test subjects.

They indulged her on her worst behavior.

The cadou was implanted after she was almost killed by one of the parents of her playmates. The gardener was a honest accident but until she learned to control her new powers she wouldn't have staff. Alcina and Miranda couldn't visit her during that time either. That was when she gave one cadou and part of her own to Angie.

Angie is the release of her emotions, the childish, playful and chaotic part of her. This helped her to control her powers. When she told Miranda what she had done, the bird scolded her full of worry. Donna just asked her if she could do the same for her other dolls.

Miranda said no.

Donna cried because she was so lonely. Why she can give life to her friends? Why her mother and sister can't stay with her? She understands Moreau but not them. Did Miranda just use her?

Miranda hugged her and consoled her, yielding at her wishes but with conditions. Donna accepted and her connection to her dolls was made.

Angie is part of her but because she has a combination of cadou she can act as her own person. Nevertheless if she is put to "sleep" donna is more emotional and her powers are harder to control. Angie has control over the dolls too.

When Karl become part of the family she help him with his nightmares and control of the Lycans. They get along well.

Summary : Donna is a manipulative sadistic posessive woman and a lonely sweet playful woman. It depends on how the person treated her and Angie first.

She is not innocent or naive, she tends to be clinical and controlled in her actions and voice. After letting all out through Angie she gets tired so this make her be pretty quiet.