#go through the horrors of losing comrades

[knightoflodis]

I really want my main characters to basically be side characters for your typical world saving heroes. Like. You follow my characters as they are just doing their normal stuff. They do go on adventures but the adventures are a little more contained and not about world ending stuff. And then every now and then they team up with a trio of young “heroes” going on the normal hero’s quest to stop some big bad from conquering/destroying the world. But the main characters miss most of the big crazy fights and just help out sometimes.

normalise giving minor background characters insane, world-changing side quests that no one in the main story ever notices.

[b1rds3ye]

hi!! this is my first time doing a request so idk if I'm doing this right haha but uh, I was wondering if you could do like. yknow the masked one you made for the 141 (I can't remember the name rn💔)? I thought of like, a sequel idea. like, what if during combat an enemy manages to take reader's mask, and so reader panics and like, rips the enemies throat out with their teeth (or if that's too violent, just goes basically rabid on them lmao) and how they would react?? if this is too violent or specific dw you don't have to!! anyways, I love your content it's totally awesome ur writing is amazing! have a good day!!

YES I LOVE THE BADASSERY AND THE UNHINGEDNESS!! If I'm your first request I'm so flattered anon pls do feel free to drop by again <333 Also just going to do general rabidness because ngl the throat thing sounds like an infection speedrun and we want our masked reader to stay nice and healthy <333

Word Count: 1.2 (it got a little long WHOOPS)

Warning: Canon typical violence, reader does get a lil sadistic and unhinged <333

Beyond Task Force 141 and Laswell, many - if not all - allied soldiers wondered about what lay under your mask. Obscuring even the eyes, your visage was more unreadable than Ghost's. Larger than life, a soldier among men.

There was a running joke that there was just nothing under your mask, perhaps an eldritch horror of sorts. You let the new recruits entertain the thought, it kept morale up as they conjured more myths of you. They said that no one has seen you without your mask. They were partially right.

It simply was that no one lived to tell the tale.

You were never one for close combat, but fighting terrorists was never smooth sailing. The chaos of battle had all of the 141 separated against the tight streets of Las Almas. How uncanny that you could not see your allies but hear their gunfire. Running out of ammo, you couldn't lament at your misfortune as a shoulder pummeling into your chest, sending you to the ground and the air out of your lungs. Head bashing against the floor you groaned as you furiously clawed up to whatever heavy weight was crushing your body. You were starting to make up the figure of a man hovering over you through the blurry haze of a concussion that filled your sight. The distant static of Price's voice through the radio, probably asking where the hell were you but you had more pressing issues at hand.

Through your struggle and flailing limbs you managed to wring the enemy's pistol off of them with a painful twist of their wrist. And they retaliated tenfold, a large sweaty hand reaching down and pressing your head back against the ground. Your adrenaline makes you writhe further, he was going to suffocate you, or worse, poison you with how fucking awful his hand smelt as the stink of burning gunpowder replaced any of your oxygen. But no, he committed a far worse crime.

A singular pull and the grating tear of fabric as your mask is pulled off of your face.

A heavy moment where your enemy looks down at you and his gaze is not like before. It's clear, it's deep. It is not looking at your facade but at you and you are no longer a soldier. You are merely a human, so fragile, so weak. One that is on the verge of death in a foreign land surrounded by bodies of fallen comrades and enemies alike. One whose mythos is all but lost at the victorious and leering smirk of an enemy as they take in your face.

That simply won't do.

Pulling your knee up to create space between you and the man, you pull out your tactical knife from your waist and drive it into his torso. His smile falls only to land at settle on yours below him, just like his blood that trickles as forbidden crimson down your hands and seeps into your uniform. It's disgustingly warm. He grows heavier as he loses all control over his body and you heave to throw his figure off to the side. You stab him once again for good measure. And then again. And again. Quick, short jabs down with a sharpened blade that cuts through uniform, flesh and bone alike. You did not count how many times you drove your blade down, numbers were too complex when your mind was running faster than any comprehensible speed. There was only one goal. To make sure no one knows what happened.

A harsh grip on the shoulder yanks you back up and you swipe with your armed limb to cut your new assailant's neck but they were onto you. Catching your arm, they pull it up as they hold onto your shoulder once again with a tightening grip that digs into your uniform. But they do nothing more, no matter how much you thrash and kick.

"Wake up, Sergeant," your opponent seethes and that voice makes you still, a buoy that floats across through your rage. Deep and grounding and your captain's.

You nearly stumble back but Price catches you before you crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The adrenaline was escaping your body leaving you with barely the energy to stay upright. Your head lolls back for a second before you bring it to the side to look at your direct superior, the remnants of a concussion making your vision blurry.

"You broken?" he asks.

"Negative, sir,” you respond immediately but he looks a little doubtful, a singular eyebrow raised as he inspects you. Not your body, but your face. The dilated pupils and the taut muscles told more than any wound.

"Can't say the same about your wee friend over there," Soap whistles as he tilts his head to behind you. “Christ, you did a number on him.”

You dare turn to look over your shoulder but Ghost already situated himself in front of the body. But between his feet you could already make out the indistinguishable mass of tattered fabric and discoloured flesh. Fresh blood filled the rivets between the cobblestones, the remnants of the body inching its way closer to you-

"Was it the mask?" Simon brings your attention back to him. You nod dumbly. He only dips his head in what you can only describe as understanding as he folds his arms, fortifying his stance in front of the mess you made. You weren’t going to see your handiwork, he was too kind to ever let you.

John drops his hands down to his sides as Gaz approaches you with your mask.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kyle offers you a sympathetic smile.

"Learnt that the first day I saw 'em on duty," Johnny retorts and you instinctively smile as you take your mask from Kyle. The hardened plaster of your mask had cracked, the fabric that hugged your neck had become torn but it'll do for the remainder of the mission. Slipping the mask back on, Simon offers a nod of approval while Johnny tugged at the fabric for a few finishing touches.

Ultimately the mission was successful. The task force returns to base and although none of the boys mentioned the carnage you left, there are still whispers of it on base. You had hurried to debrief and get your mask fixed but it seemed some privates caught sight of you and that was enough to spark rumours. Your mask had gotten so fractured that a shard was left back in the streets of Las Almas and revealed one of your eyes to the rest of the world. Such a small organ but so vivid. The privates saw, and more was added to the myth that was you. There was now no question about what was under the mask. No lovecraftian horror or empty space, no monster beyond comprehension. No, what was under your mask was terrifyingly human.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[soaqrudyz]

i am of the firm belief that neither ghost or gaz cared very much for soap when he first joined the 141

gaz had never met him before, all he knew was the guy was just a little bit of a prick. he was incredibly talented, gaz would give him that, and he’d never been outwardly rude to anyone that gaz had heard of, but oftentimes his confidence bled into something just short of arrogance, soap always seemed to be the one ranting and raving about his achievements when everyone else spoke of their mistakes. in layman’s terms: he was full of himself in a way that would surely get him killed.

ghost; however, had met him before. they’d worked together some three times before price recruited soap. ghost knew of his skill, knew that sunny disposition got quieter at night when soap thought he was alone, knew soap would thrive with them; but god, if ghost could shove his thumbs into those all-seeing, all-knowing crystal eyes he’d do so in a heartbeat. he hated the way they seemed to burn straight through the heavy material of his mask, how they could look into his own eyes and hold infinite knowledge of his broken psyche by the time they flick to some other uninteresting member of his former squadron. it was horror, to be understood so wholly.

but then gaz got hurt, four days of medically induced coma hurt, and when he jerked awake at, if the clock on the shitty hospital tv was to be believed, 2 in the morning there was soap. he looked disheveled: hair a tangled mess, dark circles only worsened by the shadows of the mostly unlit room, and covered in scattered butterfly sutures. his head was leaned on his bicep, slumped over the lowered tray connected to gaz’s bed.

under his head were the blood and tear stained pages of his open journal, a gorgeous portrait of gaz sketched onto the yellowed sheets with sleep deprived rantings in the margins on how soap could have saved him if he’d just been quicker. gaz slips it out from under him, only feeling a tiny bit like an ass for flipping through the leather bound soul of his comrade, but soap had stolen his favorite shirt so it stood to reason he should take something back. the entire 141 is scribbled on in the pages, buried between bomb schematics and scenic landscapes and soap’s scrawled insecurities. something shifts as he soaks in the words, months of feeling like an outsider and desperate tries to be as good as his teammates.

it’s different, gaz thinks as he flips back to his own face, being in the mind of john mactavish.

but then ghost is walking past price’s office and soap bursts out, pushing past him with flushed cheeks and hurried apologies, practically sprinting in the direction of his shared room. ghost, loathe to admit it, was worried, afraid that the first real human connection aside from garrick he’d had in years was going to ripped from him before he’d even started putting time into it. he didn’t want to lose something good, not again, so he follows him, rushes to catch him before he slams the door in ghost’s face.

soap’s shoving clothes into his duffle when ghost slips inside his room, noticeably holding back tears as he rambles to himself. for a minute ghost is stuck, unused to such blatantly shown emotion, but then he takes a step, sets a gentle hand on soap’s shoulder and asks what’s going on, heart thudding against his ribcage.

“my ma..” soap croakes, and heavy sobs break up whatever else he was going to say. he doesn’t have to, ghost knows, probably better than anyone else.he does the first thing that comes to mind: he drags soap into his chest, wraps his whole body around him like he can protect soap from the hurt. the sergeant doesn’t deserve to feel that hollowness in his chest. soap crashes into him like a wave to the shore, balling his hands into ghost’s hoodie and hiding his face in ghost’s collarbones. ghost had never been one for physical closeness, but there was something different about being in johnny’s arms.

there was an obvious difference in their demeanor toward him in the weeks to come, but neither really cared about how it happened, just that it did, and now they can seek each other’s warm, pink tinted gaze when soap makes a fool of himself.

[dancingbirdie]

Hello there! I adore your fics and how you wrote Astarion! I was hoping you could write something around the succubus scene? I know you get comforted by Astarion later on in the game regarding it, but due to his own trauma and backstory I would have liked to see him stand up for Tav and protect them during that scene itself, instead of just standing by while Tav is being manipulated 🙈

If you could do something around that, it would heal me! 😂🙏

Hi, anon! I hope you enjoy. I really liked your prompt, but I'll admit it did get a bit darker than I had originally thought I'd write it.

Please take note of the content warnings before you read! As always, comments and reacts are appreciated.

No Self-Sacrifices

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader/Tav

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings/Tags: Discussion/description of dissociation, implied sexual assault, mentions of Astarion's past, descriptions of violence, blood, mild gore, death, angst.

*****

“Why don’t we play a game?” the Raphael-look-alike called to you seductively from the ridiculously lavish bed. “You win, I give you everything you desire. But you’ll enjoy yourself more if you lose.”

Astarion began to sense that all too familiar, uneasy feeling coiling itself tight inside his chest. The premonition that something was about to go utterly, horribly wrong. He risked a glance toward your allies, Lae’zel and Halsin, but they appeared just as woefully confused as you did. As if you all weren’t aware of the trap you’d just walked into. 

“What’s the game?” he heard you ask. He could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.

“It’s a surprise! Off with your clothes,” the devil commanded.

There could be no doubt as to what would take place. Surely, Astarion thought, none of his companions could be so blind as to not see what was about to happen. 

Astarion watched as you bit your lip, hesitating. How you looked wildly about the room, as if you were searching for any last-minute way to avoid this. With his preternatural senses, he couldn’t help but be aware of how your heart rate spiked to a frenzied pulsing as you stood there, terrified of what was to come. 

He watched in horror as your shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. Defeated. Resolving to go through with this. And as you began removing your clothes, his vision turned nearly as red as the fiend on the mattress before you. 

“Good, little thief, good,” the monster crooned, totally unaware of Astarion’s brewing rage. “Keep going like this, and you’ll get to live. You’ll be crying out my name soon, you’d better know it. I am Haarlep, Raphael’s personal incubus…” 

The incubus - Haarlep - prattled on while Astarion continued to seethe with barely-contained fury. His fingers twitched, itching – almost of their own accord – to reach for the crossbow strapped to his back. He began shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, restless. He caught the glare Lae’zel was leveling at him from his periphery and turned his head slightly to meet it. 

She gave a slight, but obvious, shake of the head. A silent command to stand down. Then he felt the tadpole squirm in his brain, while a voice that was distinctly Lae’zel’s echoed in his mind. 

Don’t act rashly, vampire. We need to gather more information before we strike.

Astarion nearly laughed aloud. The audacity of this Githyanki, willing to let her comrade be violated in such a way. After all they had done for her. For this party. And yet, part of him knew he shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, he had known plenty of “heroes” who had let equally horrible fates befall others without so much as lifting a finger to help them. 

“It matters not to me.” Your deadened reply to Haarlep brought Astarion back to the present moment. He recognized that tone of voice. Knew when someone was trying to dissociate. To disconnect their mind from their body. He knew all too well what that feeling was like. And it was nearly as horrible to watch as it was to experience it for himself.

“Very well, I will be Raphael himself,” Haarlep continued. “All of him. Now, on the bed. Lie back.” 

Astarion made his decision when he saw you begin to take stilted steps toward the bed. Covering yourself with your hands, trying to maintain some modicum of modesty as you climbed up. 

With Haarlep’s attention solely on you, he reached behind him for the crossbow. His index finger felt for the trigger as he pulled it around before him. One swift flick, and an arrow was suddenly lodged in the incubus’ left pectoral.

Chaos erupted as imps suddenly appeared throughout the room, responding to Haarlep’s distressed cry. You toppled off the bed, head knocking onto the floor, as the fiend raged above you, trying to right themselves and extract the arrow from their chest. 

“Tsk’va,” Lae’zel cursed in Gith, hefting her sword over her shoulder and barreling toward the first enemy in sight. “To battle it is, then!” 

Halsin shifted quickly into his bear shape and let loose a formidable roar, charging for another group of imps across the room. 

But Astarion only had eyes for Haarlep. He stalked slowly toward the bed, unsheathing the twin blades from his back as he did so. 

You watched as he gave one brief, wicked smile before utter carnage ensued.

*****

“Kainyak! Your foolishness nearly cost us all our lives,” Lae’zel spat venomously toward Astarion while she wiped her blade free of the fetid black imp blood. “I should strike you down now for acting with such stupidity.”

To his credit, Astarion barely seemed to acknowledge the Githyanki’s formidable censuring. You watched as he slipped his daggers back into the sheaths at the small of his back and readjusted his armor. He picked up his crossbow and shook it free of blood before strapping it back between his shoulder blades.

“You still have all your limbs intact, Lae’zel,” he replied airly. It was a stark contrast to the way he was standing, body as taut as a bowstring. “And wasn’t that bloodshed so much more satisfying than watching the incubus violate our dear party leader?” 

Lae’zel’s mouth snapped shut, but she continued to glare. The vampire had a point, though she was loath to admit it. 

“I, for one, prefer this outcome to the alternative that was before us,” Halsin agreed, rising from where he had been crouched after dismissing his ursine form. He glanced your way but averted his eyes quickly, to your confusion. 

“Best get dressed, darling,” Astarion drawled, coming over to where you still lay prone on the floor. “As delicious as I find your birthday suit to be, I’d wager you’ll fare better in this wretched place with a little more clothing on.” 

He held out a hand to help you rise to your feet. You observed him cautiously, trying to discern the emotion behind his carefully schooled expression. 

“Why?” you whispered. 

He squinted at you, one brow quirked. “Are you seriously asking me why armor is prudent to have on, in a place like this?” He chuckled before adding, “gods, you must’ve smacked your head harder than I thought.”

“No,” you retorted, refusing to be deterred by his cheeky banter. “I mean, why did you attack Haarlep? You’re never one to be spoiling for a fight.”

Astarion scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest as if insulted. “Careful, darling. You’re almost making me out to be a pacifist.”

“You know what I meant, Astarion,” you grumbled as you began donning your leather breeches and jerkin. 

“And would you have preferred to be fucked by that incubus instead?” Astarion bit out derisively. 

Your head whipped up to meet his gaze, hearing the sudden change in his tone. 

“Of course not,” you scowled. “But you could sense how powerful they were. It seemed like the only way to ensure your all’s safety.”

Astarion grimaced. “So you would have just laid down and taken it? For us?”

“I’m not saying I would have enjoyed it,” you hissed. “But to keep you safe? Keep them safe?” you gestured to Lae’zel and Halsin across the room, polishing and re-polishing their weapons as they attempted not to overhear your barely-whispered argument. 

“Of course,” you concluded, voice resolute. 

“Don’t be a fucking martyr. Not for me. Not for them. Not for anyone,” Astarion growled. 

Your brows shot toward your hairline in surprise. 

“We know what we signed up for when we joined this rag-tag group,” he continued, tone icy. “I’d rather fight a hundred fiends than watch you debase yourself to save anyone, including myself.” 

You let loose a mirthless laugh, feeling angry, embarrassed and too completely exposed. Before you could think better of it, your retort was flying past your lips. 

“You know, Astarion, you have a fucking funny way of showing appreciation for your partner who was willing to be violated in order to keep you safe.” 

It was the wrong thing to say. You immediately knew it, and so did the rest of the party. Suddenly it was like the air had been sucked from the room. 

Crimson eyes bored into your own as Astarion took a step forward to meet you, chest to chest. You glared up at him, refusing to back down. Refusing to be chastised for your willingness to protect him. 

The shared air between you was charged. You could almost feel the electricity surging. 

“Need I remind you? I’ve been violated enough times over the past 200 years to know how unequivocally monstrous it is,” he intoned, his voice pitched dangerously low. “I will promise you this. I am finished with having it happen to me, in front of me, or for me.”

Words escaped you. It was all you could do to maintain eye contact with him, feeling the conviction in his tone. The anger that had sustained you up until this point had all but disappeared. In its place was something far more demure. 

“So yes, I fired the first shot that pierced that devil’s skin. Then I eviscerated their neck with my teeth,” he crooned, reverently tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. You shivered at his touch, at his dulcet tone that was describing such violence. 

“And I slit his throat with glee,” he continued, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I would do it again. And again. And again. Because I will never witness abuse like what was about to happen, ever again.”

He swept the pad of his thumb over the hollow under your eye, his gaze flicking rapidly over your face. As though he were subconsciously checking you over for any nicks, cuts, or bruises. 

“Do you understand?” he whispered softly. His voice was still laced with rage, but you could tell it was not directed toward you. Really, it never had been. 

The entire situation had obviously touched the most sensitive pressure point within him. Had triggered his urge to fight, to protect, to resist. You couldn’t be angry with him for that. Never. Not one bit. 

You gulped before nodding slightly. “I understand now. I’m sorry.”

You lifted your hand to cover his where it was still cupping your face. Turning slightly, you planted a kiss against his palm. 

“No self-sacrificing on my watch, darling, agreed?” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around your waist in a solid embrace. 

“Agreed,” you confirmed, returning his embrace before venturing on through the House of Hope.

[deus-and-the-machina]

I miss...giorno giovanna.

im thinking a lot about his complex role as a healer. his stand isn't meant to heal, he essentially brute forces it, which fits for the kind of person he is vs Josuke. furthermore, giorno is very self sacrificing in a very literal sense. he loses multiple body parts over the course of part 5 and just has to remake them. there's a ship of Theseus paradox here though I dont think THAT much of him was remade.

after the white album fight, mista tells him that their victory will be all of them surviving together as giorno once again tries to sacrifice himself. he takes this to heart, but soon afterwards its proven that this cannot always happen. His healing isn't enough. he can only give Bruno a little more time. and his reaction when bruno tells him this says everything.

Keeping everyone alive is his role, and he spends the early days of the part being given shit for being a newcomer, so having a solidified sense of usefulness only to have it swiped away so quickly when his stand cannot save his comrades is rough.

golden experience requiem is interesting in this context because its main purpose is protecting him from any and all harm. giorno has again, spent the entire part going through jojo typical levels of body horror, gore, etc, with the added benefit that he can remake limbs and chunks of flesh so they can do a lot worse to the part 5 cast and have them live. so in one sense, GER is a reward of sorts. he endured all that and his reward is never getting hurt again.

But at the same time, it's cruel irony that even with one of the most powerful stands in the world, its capabilities are on protecting him and no other. im sure that his enhanced capabilities make it easier of course, but the idea that he could still be too late will forever remain. whug.

[enaelyork]

This is all we are, a product of war I [Part I]

[PreWar Cooper Howard x F! War photographer reader]

Prompt

After her dramatic photo which won the World Photography Award, Y/N is propelled to the rank of essential war photographer. What could be more normal, then, than that the New York Times sent her to the Alaskan front to cover a decisive turning point in the war? If she is ready to face the hostility of the battlefield, she is much less prepared to fight Cooper Howard and his hostility, as well as everything that this meet will provoke.

Discl: Fallout fanfic in 2 volume : During the Sion War (I) and one year before the Great war(II). Eight years between the volume I & II.

Tw & others: 18+ / Angst / Violence / Slow burn / Before and after Barbs ('cause i like her) / Fluff / English not my native speak

Words : 1.9 k

Chapters navigation : 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Tag list : @ghcstvibess , @thebumbqueen

You can ask for tag in comment ;)

She is dead.

I made her immortal.

Her face hanging above mine, the thin smile playing on her lips as her eyes close for good. An angel. That's what I thought as I held up the lens under her blank gaze. An angel who flew through the bullets and the screams. Her body collapsed on top of mine just after catching that last glimmer inside her.

Then nothing. Silence, nothingness.

Me, alive. She, dead.

Maybe because I made the wrong choice at the wrong time.

I don't think about it, I don't think about it anymore. At least, I try. The world looks at me as the one who symbolized in a single photo the horror of war. Others - most - believe that I took death as an opportunity to rise above the world.

But they don't know anything. They will never know.

-So, are you the photographer?

I raise my head towards my colleague. Inside a military truck that agreed to take us with them, there is a mortuary silence, almost as cold as the environment in which we have been operating for weeks. I guess from his accent that he is not American and that he crossed the Atlantic to follow the last decisive round of the conflict. As we all.

-You and I are the same.

-I can't believe you're here, next to me.

- I'm James Ford, The Telegraph. Your photo has gone around the world, my dear. Are you here to repeat your success?

He offers me a hand that I don't want to take, out of politeness I return his greeting before avoiding his gaze. Around us, the soldiers give us glances, sometimes bad, sometimes intrigued, often revolted.

There is nothing worse for them than hearing us talk about our business. Because that's the real problem.

War is our livelihood.

Each of us feeds off their misfortunes and perhaps most of them despise us for that very reason.

-It seems that things are completely in shambles on this part of the front, that your country is on the verge of losing the war, do you know more? I shake my head.

Of course I know more than I want to tell him. But our job is not to pass information on to a rival. It's about doing something with what you have, producing a report that holds up without needing anyone's help.

He thinks he is going to the decisive stage of the conflict, but I know that I am going to the place of our perdition.

The Bible was wrong. Hell is not just made of flames and demons. It is sometimes wet, windy and freezing. Full of humans ready to kill each other for a cause whose source they have forgotten.

-We stop here, terminus.

The marines barely glance at us when we get out of the truck, entering the polar atmosphere of the camp for good. It only takes a few seconds for a discerning eye to understand that nothing is at stake here, except the little pride these soldiers have left. Wrapped up in my anorak emblazoned with the word press, I take the risk of taking off my gloves to capture a few photos of these men consumed by despair.

Then I saw him.

He was getting out of a truck coming from the combat zones, carrying at point blank range one of his comrades who was visibly in poor condition. The desolation with which he tried to keep him alive gripped me to the core of my being, because that is exactly what I felt that day.

So, after taking a few steps, without greeting my colleague who was already moving away to the other side of the camp, I caught my reflex.

And I took a photo of him. Several times.

First I took an overview. Him and his makeshift companion, on the ground. Him, his hand outstretched towards a group of soldiers running with a stretcher. Him again, a zoom on his features carved in rock, his helmet held firmly on his head by a strap which dug into his skin. Him. His eyes of a color that the zoom could not define perfectly. A strange mixture of caramel and hazelnut. A warmth emanating from his gaze contrasting violently with the ambient cold.

Jostled by a soldier, I interrupt my session considering the chaos reigning around me. My journalistic gear immunizes me against the violence and animosity of the fighters; better still, they must guarantee my safety while some dream of killing me. It is therefore like a ghost that I advance towards the tent into which the soldiers have entered, haunting a place where everyone is unaware of my presence.

-I'm sorry, there was nothing we could do.

The soldier's shoulders slump when a doctor walks towards him, not even bothering to take off his gloves to give him a futile hug. Everyone here knows that one gesture won't replace any deaths, but they're trying hard to keep things warm.

One more photo.

That's what I'm for. Not just to show the horror, but to make people feel all the emotions that result from it. The sadness freezes on the memory card forever while the event floats away in a flood of torment that only peace can dry up.

It was at this precise moment that he became aware of my presence.

He gave me that look in the face like a slap.

A look that had, for a brief moment, bypassed all the barriers I had erected around me to feel nothing other than indifference. I was screwed, but I didn't know it yet.

-Are you okay, did ya get your pic?

Much more fascinating with your mouth closed.

- Would you have started again if that wasn't the case?

I realize I'm going too far. Sometimes I forget that my defenses are not those of others and that it still happens here that someone has feelings.

-Sorry, I shouldn't have. I am…

-No need to make introductions. I know exactly who you are.

Amazing. He knows who I am AND he hates me.

-Nice to meet you, Captain Howard. You and your obvious sympathy.

He didn't want to argue, that was understandable, but something pushed me to follow him when he turned his back on me to go to another compartment of the tent. He knew my name and hadn't even introduced himself, reason enough to convince me that I had scented the right target.

Like a snake, I had slipped into a corner of the room, ignoring the looks that instinctively turned towards me before returning to their main point of interest: a large makeshift table where a map of the region was placed. I have no military training, but what I saw there was not a shadow of a doubt.

We were going to lose.

It was there, between the pawns strictly aligned to the north of our position. The reds were going to get us and it was only a matter of time. It was for this reason that I was here, to see my country fall to its knees in front of it stronger than it for the first time in its history.

-We have to hold on until the new armor prototypes arrive. said a visibly exhausted general. So they have to be there within a week, maximum.

Howard remained profoundly silent, his gaze fixed on the table. Strange attitude for someone I thought was rather angry and nervous. He clung to this map as if persisting would allow him to detect the flaw, where no hope remains.

-I suggest we try for a breakthrough here. Continued a visibly confident captain.

This suggestion drew immediate ire from the main protagonist of my report.

-A breakthrough ? he replied, acidly.

-If we manage to progress this far, it will take us little time to act after delivery of the prototypes. We will take the reds by surprise and turn the tide.

-We still need to have the necessary soldiers for this. I lost half of my men in the last attempt.

The observation plunged the room into silence. It was just a polite way of telling him that a man here was just gunpowder. He understood it perfectly because I saw his eyes clouded with bitterness. His helmet removed, I discovered a man of war-worn beauty.

-We can provide you with men, Howard. Captain Brendol puts forward an idea that should not be overlooked.

It had darkened, again, I could see the depth of his distress from where I stood and it was sucking me in, literally.

-Cooper. I can hear that the situation is confusing you, but you're going to have to go back.

-So are we there? Bet on a hypothetical prototype whose real delivery date is unknown ?

-It's an order, Captain Howard. Gather what's left of your corp and we'll provide you with what you're missing. You leave tomorrow.

The discussion was over. The general packs up his things and Captain Brendol gives Howard a triumphant smile. He's the kind of man who likes to show off by proposing suicidal ideas, but not courageous enough to carry them through to the end. There was now only me left in the room.

And him, too, him and his hazel eyes that pinned me to the wall.

-You want to come with us, right? He had swept everything away. His resentment, his fears too, all of that had waltzed away the very moment the order was pronounced. Yet he didn't follow the others, content to stand there and consider me a negligible garbage.

-That's the idea, indeed.

-And it's bad. I'm not going to explain to you wha' you might see there, your mouth will water.

-Too late for that. You already make me dream.

His hand lands on the table next to us and his eyes focus on me like two knives trying to tear me apart. I jumped in spite of myself at the violence of his gesture and his intact will despite the fatigue that stretched his features. He still believes in it, I thought, and if I wasn't so captivated by his will, I would have taken a photo of him

-I think there are things the world shouldn't see.

-And I think just the opposite. I don't think they'll miss a thing.

I stayed there, clinging to my reflex with the firm intention of not giving up any piece of land to this man. It made me wonder which of us was more accustomed to war and who was going to win the one we had just declared. I probably exaggerated my initial intention a little to provoke him a bit more, which was not the idea of ​​the century when you had to find a place among soldiers at the end of their nerves.

But I feared nothing: he could not forbid me from following them. And he knew that just as much as I did.

-Do what you want. But I don't babysit. Me and my men will have other fish to fry to save your skin. But scavengers like you, people who take photos of those who die to win trophies, know that, don't they?

It was in this way, by literally sticking a knife in my heart, that he permanently sealed our lives. Because I will never forget Cooper Howard again, and not just for the meanness he showed towards me from the moment he laid eyes on me.

[cenorii]

About Chris, Jill and Piers

I'd like to talk about the importance of Piers to Chris and his story (no talk of ships here, just lore) Some say that Jill's sacrifice is downplayed against Piers' sacrifice, being upset that there isn't a special tag or day for people to remember Jill's downfall in DLC re5. And because of that, they hate Piers, who had nothing to do with it at all. I'd like to share my thoughts on Jill and Piers without disparaging either of them, they are both very important.

I love Jill, I respect her sacrifice, however she is alive now, unlike Piers. She went through a long rehab to return to normality after re5, you can never minimize what she had to give up in exchange for peace. And she is an important part of Chris's life, as is Piers. Neither Jill nor Piers should be written off when we talk about the important people who influenced Chris. Dropping Piers from Chris' story = dropping a part of his character. Piers influenced him just as much as Wesker, if not more, because his sacrifice happened at the most vulnerable time in Chris' life… right after the amnesia.

In the re6 timeline, Chris had already been through a lot of things that had become traumatic for him. He's gone through witnessing the deaths of comrades in Spencer's mansion, he's learned the horrors of sinister corporations, seen loved ones suffer, survived Jill's temporary "dead", then the death of the squad in re6 and a whole long period of amnesia. We saw how in re6 he frantically clung to everyone trying to keep everyone from dying, how Piers tried to call him to reason so Chris would stop being driven by emotion, and how Chris ended up losing everyone in despair.

You can see that he suffers from the horror of losing people, it's his greatest fear. And Piers died exactly afterward, which affected Chris even more. And going into Piers' sacrifice in more detail, I'd like to compare it to Jill's situation, without downplaying either of them, of course. But obviously their sacrifices have different levels of drama and depth.

On Chris' side, it was understandable that he wouldn't have had time to save Jill, he looked down in despair, realizing the loss or even denying what he saw. But in Piers' situation, everything was right in his hands. He asked Piers not to give up hope, assured him that all was not yet lost, wanted to save him AND MAY have done so. But Piers took the opportunity to send Chris alone in the escape pod, realizing that in his state of infection it was already over, nobly sacrificing himself to save not only Chris, but the entire world from HAOS. This is dramatically deeper because Chris, unlike Jill's situation, actually had the opportunity to save him, and will now spend a long time hating himself for what he couldn't. Could he have saved Jill? No, Wesker had him by the throat. Could he have saved Piers? He could have if he'd put him in the escape pod with him. And it's that fact that makes all the difference. There may be a way to restore Piers to human form, but if Piers hadn't chosen to stay, he would have died along with Chris when they were attacked from underwater by an unkillable HAOS. But thanks to his nobility, he stayed and finished off HAOS, saving both Chris sitting in the pod and everyone else. His death was foregone and inevitable, and it dashed any hopes Chris had of handing over his captaincy to him.

The realization that Chris could have influenced what happened, could have prevented the terrible events, must be weighing heavily on him. He hates his helplessness, his indiscretion. And once again he faces his main fear - the fear of loss.

Jill is by his side now, knows about Piers from him, and realizes what a difficult memory it is. None of his loved ones should be forgotten or left out of the story because they shaped Chris's personality, making him who he is now.

[poppystheories]

Kind of a huge flaw in the Bookmen's oh-so enlightened emotionally stunted dogma: they're completely unprepared for the reality of existing in the world as people. Lavi's got, like, zero ability to handle how much he cares. There's a big difference in emotional maturity and being raised convinced of your own emotional detachment.

What Miranda said here definitely unintentionally hit him where it hurts most too. He's not their comrade, but he sure feels like they're his.

Lavi is having flashbacks of searching for Allen this same way, but last time, they didn't manage to even find Allen's body. Lavi's already been on the brink of a complete emotional breakdown since Allen "died", and now realizing he probably won't be able to find Lenalee's either is almost the final straw.

But Bookman Jr's seen plenty of things like this before; he's definetely seen plenty of human conflicts where soldiers died desperately trying to save their comrades. He's definitely known soldiers whose bodies were never recovered.

But now, for someone so "experienced" in the horrors of war, Lavi's completely unprepared for actually facing what the so called "ink" the Bookmen hold themselves above go through.

Lucia went on and on about how losing Bookman Jr. was a big blow to the Bookman Clan like that was something Allen should feel guilty for, but they spend their whole lives voyeuristically monitoring the pain of others and actively choosing to not care when other people lose their precious family. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Back when I was in middle school, the Bookmen seemed cool. Now, as an adult, they just seem kind of hypocritical and condescending. Maybe that will change if we learn more about why they exist?

[awellboiledicicle]

Was watching the bf play the silent hill 2 remake and he made a n offhand comment about psychic children, which lead to him going "So where's Anya [forger]? If there's a psychic child, it should be Anya!"

Which is great because please imagine the eldritch location of Silent Hill trying to come up with shit to punish Anya. It couldn't. Worst it could do is prey on her fears that she'll be abandoned-- or plonk her back in the lab where she was initially raised. And even then its... that's not on her. She doesn't seem to be *guilty* or *angry* about it. She's too young to really have much of a concrete, deep seated feeling about it at all. Like it effected her, yes, but it wouldn't lead to the town doing anything to her.

But you know who would fuck that right up?

Loid, trying to find where she wandered off to.

Warcrimes and Lost Comrades Mcgee over here would be such rich monster bait that Anya would find him across town through sheer power of hearing the gunfire and swearing in his head.

Sure he seems like he has his shit together, but man is made of expertly concealed PTSD and disassociation.

His biggest issue is his alienation from himself and the inability to be anything but a tool for WISE. His trauma from the war that doesn't seem like it's resolved, so much as it's been put in a box that only leaks when a big enough threat is afoot. A lot of his trauma is deeply seated in his teens and childhood. A lot of it is rooted in just how fucking horrible the war was, including horrible things happening to children.

Basically i'm saying the monsters for him would be a horrible mesh of Ostanian soldiers as imagined by his young self, children mangled like they've been through a warzone and trying to kill him, and who knows what his equivalent pyramid head would be. Not literally the same sort of premise, necessarily, but the main big thing hounding his footsteps as he tries desperately to find Anya.

Because that would be the crux of the problem.

He loses sight of Anya for one second on a road trip. She runs off like she tends to, and his only lead is the distant echos of her singing her little ooting song in the fog. The little tracks in the mud. It's already not ideal that she'd wander, but in a forest? In this weather? Where he doesn't know the lay of the land and she's not likely to be able to navigate somewhere safe on her own?

He gets held up searching the graveyard, the wind rustling the leaves sounding just enough like Anya that he's not sure if it IS her or not. By the time he moves on, she's rather far into town. She's living life, sneaking into restaurants and playing with toys in shops. She's a little upset when she starts calming down and realizes she's alone, but Papa's on his way. Like he always is. She sits on a bench in one of the parks and waits.

Loid meanwhile is in hell. Because he has handed the town not only his old traumas that he carries guilt and shame over, on some level that he might not acknowledge. But now he's added "i am afraid of Anya being harmed" to it's playbook.

I imagine he'd find her after a few hours. It'd suck. He'd be surprisingly beat up. But he'd find her. And Anya would promptly see the snapshots of all the monsters he's imagining being around her and she just. "waku waku"

Then the issue is getting back to the car. Because leaving is not really what the town actually wants you to do. And Loid is still experiencing the horrors.

Basically i'm imagining a lot of rather intense stuff happening, and then you just cut to Yor who's been waiting at the rest stop for 6 hours because she doesn't want to wander off looking for Anya on her own and miss Loid coming back, but she also is fidgeting because they've been gone a WHILE.

This is because i can't actually figure out what the town would do to Yor that she wouldn't be able to physically body fast enough that it wouldn't be effective.

This is also because I think if you put pyramid head and yor in a room together, she'd kill him. It might take a while, but she'd manage it. I believe in her.

[silver-tooth-the-panther]

(Beware! This one is full of angst!)

The Archives

(A DOAI Fic!)

Warnings: Heavy angst, slight gore

Word Count: 1432

Sunday was the day that The Hijacker returned. Alex and Spec had been watching a horror movie in the living room when they called. The Veldigun’s monitor glitched and buzzed. “Oh, looks like Lankmann wants to talk to me.” Spec whispered, a hint of fear in their voice. Alex cliched when they heard that name, despite the fact that they knew it was just The Hijacker.

Spec hopped off the couch and ran over to the monitor. The familiar cartoonish voice echoed through the room. “Hello, Spector! How are you doing on this fine day?” The Veldigun tilted their head. “I’ve been fine. Just hanging out with Alex.” The Hijacker chuckled. “You really do love them, don’t you? Mind if I talk to them for a bit? I want to get to know them.”

Spec nodded without any hesitation then leaned back in the chair. “Alex! My story intruder wants to talk to you!” Alex held back a snicker as they stood up and went over to the desk. “Hello, Mister Story Intruder.” The Hijacker rolled their eyes. “Hahaha. Very funny.” Spec cracked up, flicking their tail rapidly. “I’ll leave you two alone. I hear the dusty attic calling my name.” The Veldigun then slithered away, leaving the other two alone.

“So…” The Hijacker began to say. “I have my first assignment for you. Don’t worry, this one is by far the easiest and the least dangerous.” Alex nodded, sighing in relief. “What do you need?” The Hijacker tapped it’s claws against it’s skull-like face. “I need to know how much information you have. Do you have any archives of the foundation?”

“I do.” Alex said with a slight nod. “My buddy managed to get quite a few of the archives before…” Their voice softened and trailed off as an image of their deceased friend appeared in their head. “Did the foundation…get to them?” The Hijacker seemed to quickly pick up on emotions. Alex nodded, tears forming in their eyes.

The Hijacker sighed heavily. “I’m really sorry for your loss. I’ve lost many comrades in this war and I know that I’m going to have to kill one in the future, so I understand your pain.” Alex nodded before wiping their eyes. “I’ll go grab the archives. It’s a USB drive, so it will feed the information right into you.” They then stood up and headed right to their bedroom. There, they stopped by their nightstand and dug into the top drawer. A black USB drive was now held tightly in their hand.

Alex couldn’t move. They held the USB ever so tightly as they felt tears run down their face. Shaking with pure emotion, they leaned their head on the nightstand and cried. Soft, quiet sobs escaped from them as they held the last memory of their friend in their hand. After a few minutes, Alex wiped their tears away and stood up.

Now, they had the strength to walk back to the desk. The Hijacker tilted their head when they saw Alex. “Are you okay?” Alex nodded. “There’s no need to lie to me.” The Hijacker spoke softly. “Look, after this meeting, go talk to Spector about losing your friend, just make sure you don’t talk about the foundation to them, okay?” Alex nodded weakly once again before plugging in the USB drive into the computer.

Cartoonish sparks bounced all over The Hijacker. It made a soft rumble as it absorbed the information. “Interesting.” It said as it finished. “We’re getting somewhere here.” Many different files swirled all around The Hijacker and it started to inspect them one by one. Images of Winfrey and the Halloween PSA of The Smiling Snatcher immediately caught Alex’s attention.

“They created the PSA?” Alex asked, tilting their head. “Looks like it.” The Hijacker said as it was reading some text files. “Looks like they’re trying to force feed Winfrey human souls.” It said as it turned to the picture of Winfrey. “This image is rather dark. Let me turn the brightness up for you.” So, The Hijacker did.

Alex widened their eyes as they saw the cruel reality that Winfrey was living. Large chains pinned the poor Veldigun to the floor, making it impossible for them to escape on their own. Cuts and bruises lined their body. Bones littered the floor and blood dripped from Winfrey’s maw. Tears also dripped from Winfrey’s eyes. “What are they doing to them?” Alex whispered in pure horror.

“Making them do what they hate.” The Hijacker answered before moving to another file. “This one is an audio file, so I’ll let you listen to it.” The Hijacker’s body drooped as the red in it’s eyes disappeared. Then, it’s maw opened.

“Experiment 21, this is my first experiment with a proper and intelligent being. This creature may be a raven, but it has much more brain power than a simple rodent. I extracted a sample from the traitor in order to continue this research. I pray that the legend is true. If it is true, then I can create the perfect specimens in order to win this war! They will know that our roots are where we need to stay! Eating souls is how we will keep our power and the rebels will fall to their knees!”

Alex shivered as they listened to the audio, but they had more questions than answers. “What is Dr. Lankmann talking about? A legend?” The Hijacker closed it’s jaws and turned back to normal. “Well, it’s complicated…” The Hijacker intertwined it’s claws. “There’s a legend from the olden days that stated that if another creature builds a strong bond with a Veldigun and they get infected, they will survive it and become another.”

Alex tilted their head, confused. “Well, it seems like they aren’t going to get too far. Looks like they’re skipping the bond part.” The Hijacker laughed. “He doesn’t know what love is! He believes that a physical bond is what they need, but that probably won’t yield good results.” It then looked at another text file. “I think I may have found your next mission.”

“What might that be?” Alex asked. “Well, there’s another archive that seems to be crucial to this case. In the file I’m looking at, it says that your boss has a USB of valuable information hidden in the lab.” Alex was even more confused. “A lab? I’ve never seen a lab in the asylum.” The Hijacker rumbled as it pulled up a map of the asylum. Everything was much more clear now. The Hijacker traced it’s claw from the entrance of the asylum to where the lab was.

The lab looked to be at the very back of the asylum. It was to the left of door 66 and seemed to be marked as a trap door. “It’s in the basement.” Alex mumbled to themselves. “There. In that lab, is what I need you to get. The archive is said to be in a chest near ‘The Monitor System’. It’s called The Exp Logs. Find it and bring it to me.”

Alex nodded. “It’s a good thing that I work tomorrow, so I’ll be able to get it soon.” The Hijacker nodded with a smile. “Good. Just remember that this mission will be incredibly dangerous. Do NOT get caught.” Alex flinched, but nodded. “I’ll try my best.” The Hijacker returned the nod. “Good…See you tomorrow, Alex!” Then, the monitor clicked off.

Alex spun around in the chair in order not to face the monitor. They buried their face in their hands, trying to understand and piece together what might be happening. All of this was just too much. Luckily, a sweet Veldigun came to the rescue.

“How was your talk, Alex?” Spec said as they entered the living room. “It was fine. They were nice.” They said in a somber tone. Spec tilted their head. “Hey, are you alright? Did something happen?” Alex clawed at their jeans. They couldn’t take this anymore, so they decided to take The Hijacker’s advice.

They stood up and walked right over to Spec. Wrapping their arms around them, Alex buried their head into the Veldigun’s shoulder and just started to sob. Spec was taken aback by their action, but they quickly wrapped their arms and their tail around their friend

Alex’s cries broke the Veldigun’s heart. “It’s okay, buddy. I’m here. I’m here.” Alex gripped the back of Spec’s costume tightly as they cried. “Oh, Mortimer…” Their voice was incredibly weak as they muttered their deceased name. Spec then understood what made them so upset. “I’m so sorry, Alex.”

[possessiveandobsessive]

The Spirit of Determination

Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.

SERIOUS SPOILERS AHEAD, IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED THE GAME, STAY AWAY!!!!!

Part 5: Losing it All

Whatever it takes. Lace Harding had repeated these words to herself every morning for nearly the last ten years. They had kept her going when the sky had torn asunder, when she realized someone she considered a comrade had lied and betrayed their shared cause. The mantra grounded her throughout the time she and Varric had been chasing Solas. Varric and Lace had spent many, many nights on opposite sides of a fire: Varric weaving grand tales filled with heroes and great victories won through sacrifice, and Lace taking in every word spoken with a look of wonder on her freckled face. When the older dwarf finished a story, he would look at her with a tired, wistful expression. 

“In my experience Harding,” he’d say in his gravelled voice, “Heroes can be made of any person. Dwarf, elf, human, Qunari, mage, they all have the same potential. What makes a hero a hero, is the will to do whatever it takes to get the job done.” 

Varric was one of the only people who had ever looked at Lace Harding and seen the hero that lay sleeping, under the surface. He made Lace believe she could do anything. They were going to stop the Dread Wolf together! She loved imagining the shock it would be, two dwarven archers stop an elven god! But life often has other plans, even for the heroes in the story. Harding had realized when she met Rook, that maybe there are different types of heroes. She decided that even if she couldn’t be the one in the fancy plated armor, leading the charge across the open battlefield, she was going to keep doing whatever it took until she was her own kind of hero.

Those were the thoughts flying through the red-headed scout’s mind now, as she scaled a tall, blight covered column. The battle with Ghilan’nain was beginning to look hopeless. The blighted goddess had Lucanis and Rook both trapped in her grasp, neither looking like they had any opportunity or ability to escape. Davrin and Assan stood on the ground in front of Ghilan’nain, trying to do enough damage to keep her attention split between her captives and themselves.

 It’s not going to be enough, Harding had realized in horror. My friends are going to die, and the world we all love will be lost… That was unacceptable to her, especially after everything she had lost. Especially after Varric. So, the smallest member of the Veilguard began climbing as fast as she could. Upon reaching the top, Harding nocked an arrow and took aim. There was no hesitation in her movements as she fired. 

*Thunk* The arrow struck exactly where she had aimed it, at the center of Ghilan’nain’s back. That’s for D’Meta’s crossing. The evil goddess screamed and began to turn around, her grip on Rook and Lucanis weakening only a fraction. God or not, Ghilan’nain wasn’t fast enough.

*Thunk* The second arrow tore through Ghilan’nain’s chest this time, a mere breath away from the first one. That’s for Minrathous. A shriek of rage and pain followed this blow, and a blighted tendril shot out from the goddess’s side. Harding saw Rook fall to the ground and Lucanis scramble to Rook’s side, as she knocked a third arrow. Good. Now they can finish it. 

Her eyes cut back to her target just as she felt her stomach tear open. Lace couldn’t help the scream that left her throat, she had never felt such agonizing, blinding pain in her life. Looking down, she could see that Ghilan’nain had run her through with a sharpened blight tendril. Not enough to stop me, you bitch, Harding thought before getting her arrow back on the string and pulling back to shoot. Blood exploded from her mouth before she could let the third arrow fly. The pain was all encompassing, Ghilan’nain had gotten her a second time now in her abdomen. I’m. Not. DONE. Harding re-nocked her arrow for the third time, finally getting to fire it at her target.

*Thunk* The arrow once again struck true, embedding itself into the bone at the center of Ghilan’nain’s chest, directly between the first two. Harding could barely hear the feral wailing that followed her shot, and she couldn’t feel the third and final strike of the blight tendril through her center at all. No, all that the master scout could feel as her body began to freefall, was relief. A faint, victorious smile touched her lips as the world blurred around her and time slowed. I did it, Varric. Does this mean I’m like them now? The heroes in all of your stories? I hope you’re watching me, because I did it. The last thing Lace Harding felt were her lips forming the words that Varric claimed gave birth to true heroes. “Whatever it takes…”

                *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Rook could hear nothing but ringing for the first several seconds after Harding disappeared from her view. It wasn’t until she became aware of her shoulders being shaken violently that her senses returned to her in a rush. Lucanis was yelling her name and was still shaking her when she turned and gave the order, “Kill her, Lucanis! Now!” Relief, shock, and despair flickered across his dark features in a flash, present for only moments before giving way to a furious determination. Lucanis spun on his heel and darted towards his target. Rook couldn’t even fully register his individual movements before he was suddenly in Ghilan’nain’s face. She could practically hear the snarl that undoubtedly left his throat as he bared his teeth. The faint light peeking out from behind the moon caught the blue lyrium blade, as it arced down towards the ancient mage’s heart. 

Lucanis could feel the moment the dagger met its mark. Slicing through rotting flesh, tearing through muscle, and breaking through bone, as it embedded itself into a black, beating heart. Spite howled in victory and a rush of elation flooded the Mage-Killer’s body and soul. Retribution at last, for his failure at Weisshaupt. Revenge for all those taken before their time, for Harding. Unfortunately, Lucanis had no time to revel in his kill before he was suddenly thrown backwards. His limp form slammed into the earth, and rolled over and over until coming to a stop a ways behind where Rook still stood. 

“Lucanis!” Rook shouted, horrified as she watched him crash brutally onto the stone before crumpling into a heap. She took an involuntary step towards him before realizing that they were not out of danger yet. Ghilan’nain’s form was spitting blue light from where the dagger still rested, buried in her un-beating heart. It was sending shock waves over the entire area and the force of the blasts seemed to be getting stronger with each new wave.

“Rook! Are you okay?” Davrin shouted at her from across the ruined courtyard. The Grey Warden looked as if he was barely keeping his feet beneath him as he fought to move towards her. Assan was trying his best to help keep his master upright but he too was struggling to stand. Rook opened her mouth to shout a response back to her brother-in-arms, but was cut off by another shout.

“Rook!” The new voice came from Rook’s other side. Fighting the force of wild magic flooding out of the blighted corpse, Rook managed to turn her head to look at who had joined them in the ruins. Emmerich, Taash, and Neve were fighting their way towards where Lucanis lay. “You have to retrieve the dagger! It’s going to tear a hole in the Veil!” Emmerich shouted again, his panicked voice barely reaching her over the howl of the wind and crackling energy.

Rook set her jaw. Of course it was going to tear the Veil. When did any part of any plan ever go right for her? Luckily for Thedas, she was a Grey Warden. Nyra Thorne wasn’t one to roll over and give up, so instead, she forced her leg muscles to move. It was a slow, arduous, and painful slog over to where the dagger sat in Ghilan’nain’s chest. Rook felt like she was trying to pull all of Weisshaupt behind her as she kept putting one foot in front of the other. She knew if she faltered for even a second, her body wouldn’t make it. It might not make it in one piece as it is, she thought grimly to herself, It feels like I’m being ripped apart at the seams. 

Rook grit her teeth harder as her back foot began to slide. Slowly she felt it start to give and her eyes snapped shut. Tasting blood, she imagined Harding’s face in the scout’s final moments. Lace made that sacrifice because she believed in the team and because she believed in Rook. Failing now, in this crucial moment, would mean that her death was for nothing. That was enough for Rook’s back foot to somehow find traction again, and she pushed off of it as hard as she could. The muscles in her neck strained as she stretched her hand towards the glowing blade. Her fingers brushed the hilt, just falling short of being able to grasp it. An angry growl tore through her throat, ENOUGH! Rook pushed off of the crumbling stone beneath her feet as hard as she could and lunged, her hand finally wrapping around the leather grip. Pulling with everything she had, the Dread Wolf’s blade slipped free at last. 

There was a blinding flash of white-blue light, what sounded like faint screams, and then, nothing. 

Rook stumbled back from the force it took to pull Solas’s dagger free and fell onto her ass after several wobbly steps. She groaned as her body protested any and all attempts to stand. When she did finally get back on her feet, she looked up and saw that the world around her was now tinted grey. Rook couldn’t see her team and a thick silence now covered the area like a blanket. Even the sound of her feet on the ground beneath her as she took a few hesitant steps was muted. As if she were underwater. Frowning Rook swung her head around again, looking for anyone, anything. The moment her eyes caught on a familiar body however, she decided she would have rather seen no one at all, than the sight before her. Lucanis lay on his side several yards in front of her, looking exactly as he had when he was thrown from atop Ghilan’nain. He looked…lifeless. 

Fear crawled into Rook’s throat and threatened to choke her as she ran to the unmoving man and fell to her knees beside him. “Lucanis?” Rook called to him in a shaky voice. She grabbed his shoulder, rolling him onto his back to assess the damage. “I’ve got y-” her voice stuck in her throat and she gasped loudly. She scrambled backwards clumsily, almost falling again as she tried to get back on her feet. “No, no, it can’t-” Rook stammered. What she was seeing couldn’t be possible, it couldn’t be real. He was safe. He was safe in the Lighthouse waiting for her to return and report back.

“Varric?” she whispered, reaching a trembling hand towards her mentor’s grey, unliving form. Then, the ground fell out from under her, and Rook was falling. Down, down, down…

           *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Lucanis Dellamorte had a splitting headache when he opened his eyes again. With a heavy groan, he rolled over onto his hands and knees and tried to get a sense of his surroundings. He rubbed the heel of his palm across his eyes, trying to clear the dust from them. His throat felt blocked and he struggled to breathe. He began to hack and cough in an attempt to rid his throat of debris. Lucanis got to his feet and raised his head to attempt to assess the damage. The Crow was still struggling to see and the oddly bright light bathing the area wasn’t helping. The air swirled dangerously, causing rocks, dust, and blight to fly in every direction as gravity itself seemed to pulsate. What is this light? What happened? Lucanis tried to think, but his mind was still hazy from his head slamming into the ground. The last thing he remembered was being thrown across the battleground like a ragdoll after killing Ghilan’nain. 

Lucanis blinked rapidly and was finally able to make out some of what was unfolding in front of him. He felt his heart drop into his feet when he saw her. Rook was forcing her way towards the dagger that still protruded from his target’s chest. Lucanis shuffled forward, not sure exactly of what his intentions were, as he watched her make slow but steady progress. He sucked in a breath, she almost had it in her hand, and-

An even brighter, white-blue light exploded into his vision. Cursing in Antivan, Lucanis turned his head sharply to the side and squeezed his eyes shut to avoid going blind. He heard her then, Rook. She screamed his name, sounding completely terrified. Certain that he had never heard her scream like that before, fear shot through his spine. NO! NO! Spite’s voice and his own overlapped in his mind. Lucanis swiftly turned his gaze back to where she had stood only a moment ago and felt something break inside of his chest. She was gone. Rook was gone. 

GONE! GONE! GONE! CANNOT BE GONE! Spite screamed over and over in his mind, WHERE. IS. SHE? WHERE. IS. ROOK? 

Lucanis had no answer. He could do nothing except stare numbly at the spot where the woman he loved more than anything had just disappeared from. Spite continued to shout and spit and chant viciously in his mind. Had Lucanis himself not been in such a state of uselessness, he would have been taken aback by Spite’s level of aggression. But he wasn’t, because at the moment, he wasn’t anything. Rook had been the driving force behind so many of his feelings in recent months, and now Lucanis wasn’t sure he remembered how to feel anything but hollow on his own. The Ossuary had done a good job of robbing him of that ability.

YOUR FAULT! Lucanis was abruptly pulled from his depressed stupor by the volume and level of vitriol in Spite’s tone as he turned on him. YOUR FAULT! SUPPOSED TO. PROTECT HER! He received a violent shove from the invisible demon beside him and Lucanis’s head fell into his hands. He couldn’t even argue with him because Spite was right this time. Lucanis may have completed his contract, but he lost the thing that mattered the most. She had been right there, and he lost her. I didn’t even get to tell her- Horror washed over him then, and every organ turned to ice. Lucanis had lost Rook without ever getting to tell her how he felt. He never got to tell her that he- 

Pain flooded all five of his senses and Lucanis’s whole body went rigid. Lost in a tidal wave of unfamiliar emotion, both man and demon completely lost control. Purple wings burst from his back, looming over his frame and pulsing with light to the rhythm of his beating heart. Lucanis’s head still hung low, while the hands hanging at his side formed white-knuckled fists. Every muscle, tendon, and ligament in his toned arms stood out with the force of his grasp, and his very flesh began to glow with Spite’s eerie purple light. An unnatural wind kicked up around Lucanis’s feet and wild magic began to seep from his pores and crackle wildly in the air around his still form. “THEY WILL PAY IN BLOOD. THEY WILL ALL PAY IN BLOOD!” The voice that came from Lucanis’s mouth then was not his own, and was not the one typical of Spite either. This voice came from both of them, together as one, and it came from the depths of furious despair.

Emmerich Volkarin was a smart man. He had known the moment he saw Rook disappear, (more accurately, saw Rook get pulled into the Fade) that they were going to have a big problem on their hands when Lucanis and Spite realized she was gone. As he watched the Antivan man go still and the demon’s wings burst forth, he knew they had to act fast. Emmerich grabbed Neve, speaking urgently “We have to stop him! He’s going to level this place, with us in it!”

Neve’s dark eyes widened as she looked from Emmerich, to Lucanis, and back to Emmerich. “Shit.” she cursed sharply, “Okay well what do you suggest? Do you want me to tackle him? Is there a spell for stopping a grief-fueled demonic rampage or are we winging it?” Her sarcasm was evident, as was the fear laced into it. Emmerich just shook his head at her, “We need to knock him unconscious! There’s no way to get either of them to calm down now, so we have to put them both to sleep!” 

Neve looked at him for a moment and Emmerich could see her reach the same conclusion. “Alright. Alright let’s do it.” she said in an exhausted tone. Neve was ready for this terrible fucking day to be over, and she knew the older mage was correct in his assessment. She took a deep breath and looked to Emmerich, letting him know that he’d be taking the lead on this one. The necromancer grabbed his staff and looked to Taash and Davrin, who were standing off to the side watching Lucanis lose himself. Both the elf and Qunari seemed unable to comprehend what they were seeing. Both were still in a state of shock, and Taash was mourning the loss of someone they loved deeply. While Emmerich had empathy for the pair, he did not have time. 

“Grab him! Quickly, before he kills us all!” The stern, commanding tone from Emmerich was enough to get Davrin and Taash moving, and they both took hold of one of Lucanis’s shoulders. Lucanis/Spite began to flail and fight back as Neve and Emmerich both started on the spell. Emmerich started, pale green light flickered in the air around his hands as he gently waved them in a gentle pattern. Neve’s light blue magic quickly joined his, and together they weaved their magic into a powerful blanket of energy. It settled over Lucanis as he and his demon fought viciously to get free, to get to Rook. For a moment, Emmerich wasn’t sure the spell was going to work. Lucanis and Spite had the combined willpower of their two individual spirits and were working as one to fight Neve and himself. Man and demon both fought tooth and nail in a desperate attempt to stay conscious, but it ended up being in vain. Emmerich and Neve’s combined magical energy was enough to put both Spite and Lucanis into a fitful slumber. 

The four Veilguard members who were still standing after Lucanis had gone limp, looked to one another. Each of them was filled to the brim with grief, pain, anger, and fear. They still had work to do. The world was not out of danger yet, not while Elgar’nan lived and possessed the red lyrium dagger. The Veilguard needed to get their leader back if they had any chance at getting through the rest of this unforgiving war alive. 

Taash and Davrin grabbed Lucanis. They managed to get his arms in position, one on Davrin’s shoulders and the other on Taash’s. The Rivaini had to bend down a bit to be closer to Davrin’s height, and the two began to carry him back in the direction of the Eluvian. Neve watched them for a moment, before she cast a last look back at Emmerich and followed behind them. She needed a moment to breathe, to grieve her own losses of the day. 

Just before Emmerich turned to join them as well, he heard a loud, cracking sound behind him. His neutral expression slipped into a darker one. The mage turned to confront the one he knew had just appeared in the exact same spot where Rook had disappeared from only moments prior. The Dread Wolf himself now stood above Ghilan’nain’s still body. He looked down on her with a look of disgust and a hint of sorrow. Then, sensing he was being watched, the Wolf looked up and met Emmerich’s gaze. The two mages stared at each other for a moment. Solas broke eye contact first, a twinge of something (guilt maybe?) in his gaze. The ancient elf turned his back to the necromancer then, and left. Tucking his tail, he ran into the dark and disappeared from view. Emmerich said nothing, he simply turned and followed the rest of the team as they made the silent journey back to the Lighthouse. Fen’Harel, Elven god of lies, treachery, and rebellion, had broken his word once again. He had betrayed another symbol of hope to further his own twisted agenda, and he would live to regret it. One way or another.

Part 6 here

Part 4 here

Part 3 here

Part 2 here

Part 1 here

DATV Masterlist here

[radioactivepeasant]

Unscheduled Dark Jak Wednesday!

The little gremlin wanted to cause a little chaos, so behold: the first in a series of crack snippets I wrote for the Demon Baby au!

(Warnings for blood mention, reference to slight body horror, and implied violence. Because this is still Dark Jak)

The dark eco of The Chair was measured carefully. 50% blue, 20% yellow, 30% red. The same ratios, every single time -- Jak thankfully would never know that they'd worked out that ratio after four different subjects melted in their cells after the wrong mixture. And when he'd first transformed, snapping the restraints when for the first time hope arrived in the form of Daxter, Jak had been the embodiment of that recipe. Built for speed and power. And he siphoned every drop of dark eco he could out of that machine as he slid off the Chair, so that they could never use it again.

But outside the lab, dark eco wasn't measured and precise. It was as chaotic in its makeup as it was in its behavior.

In hindsight, Jak wondered if that's why it felt different.

When the KG approached -- oh, how does it feel to be in front of me without bars to protect you? Without me in cuffs? Are you afraid yet? You're going to be--- that toxic cocktail from the injector was still burning painfully in his veins. It was too easy to lose his grip, to be dragged under by that rage even as he felt panic rising in his lungs.

This isn't me-! What's happening to me?! Help me!

Through the hungry, hate-filled thing's eyes, the KG weren't his tormentors. They were nothing but prey. Livestock to be butchered. And butcher them he did. For every beating in the common cells they'd pointed and laughed at, he returned it tenfold.

And then the eco ran out.

Shaking with adrenaline and nausea, Jak stumbled. His boots squelched in a pool of blood, and eco rose out of it and spun into his body. He was breaking down the corpses and- and feeding off their eco.

He wished he could feel horrified by that. He wished he didn't feel like it was justified.

But dark eco made by drawing disparate ecos from decomposition was far more random in its makeup. And when it built up like rising pressure in his chest, even as Jak screamed inside, he changed again.

It was fast, at least. But it hurt, it hurt almost as much as the Chair.

And then-

Why was the world so big? Why did the prey grow larger?

Jak stumbled, tripping on oversized boots. His clothes pooled around him like blankets, and he couldn't even see his hands when he looked down. Why?

Stuck. Don't like that. No! No traps! Get it off getitoffgetitoff!

Snarling, he flailed to get his arms free and something fell over his eyes, blinding him.

"What the ever-loving, snot-flicking, abso-flipping heck?!"

Oh. Friend! Da- D- Dax-ter. Daxter!

Daxter came into view, at eye level.

"Jak? Is...that's still you, right?"

Jak nodded and the things fell off his eyes. Oh. Goggles.

The little boy hiding behind the old man peeked out, and his mouth made a little "o".

"Hi?" he signed.

"Hi??" Jak signed back, or tried to with floppy sleeves.

"Dax help. Eco wrong? Can't...control flow. Not okayokay."

Daxter sucked on his teeth. "H'ohboy. I dunno how to help, pal. But uh...last time you changed back after slicing up a bunch of guards, right? Maybe thats whatcha need to stop being...Demon Baby."

The old man stared down at Jak with eyes so wide he thought they'd fall out altogether.

"That's...interesting," he said faintly, as if in shock, "...that's very interesting."

Jak scowled and wriggled out of the pants. The tunic hung down to his calves now. He needed to be able to move! He shook off the gauntlets and growled. It was high pitched and quiet. He didn't notice.

Fight them fight them not hurt Daxter not hurt friend!

Two guards at the end of the street saw their comrades' empty armor lying in pools of blood. With shouts of alarm, they ran towards them, guns drawn.

"What the hell is that?!" One of them yelled, pointing at Jak.

Jak spread his claws and leaped.

Yes. Hell. Got out of hell. Gonna send you there.

(More chaos to follow later)

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖒𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖓𝖊𝖜

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓢𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷

"𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦?"

彡 𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 彡

✦ 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎 ✦

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : clear and blue skies, your family, your comrades, and you're with your lover, the horror from your kingdom has come to an end but will your mind be free from all the fury that's in your heart?

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : it taken me a month to finish this 💀 my bad

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : 18+ LostPrince!Knight!Eddie Munson x Princess!FEM!reader, cursing, reader and Eddie are both (21), trauma, reader having phobias, survivors guilt, slight allusions to su*cide, reader will be having a lot of struggles on this chapter, Henry & Jason will be mentioned! (I'm sorry), holding grudges, all of the characters will reoccur on this, not giving away any more spoilers but that's it!

𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙 : ANGST and FLUFF, dark fantasy, romance, set in 17th century, no more upside down

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊 𝕿𝖔 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 : omg, this whole other world that I made is slowly closing to an end! I'm so happy for the people who are still here and waiting for the next chapter, I'm so thankful like literally! I'm so grateful! 🥺🫶🏻✨

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊 : I ain't gonna suffer you guys no more from the angst! don't worry! I just felt it will be too easy when reader is like "okay" with everything that just happened you know?

☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆

❣ AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE ❣

"No!"

"Shh, it's okay, Y/N, I'm here"

"Eddie?"

"Yes, it's me"

"O-Oh no- I did it again, didn't I?"

"No, it's not your fault, sweetheart"

You embrace him very hardly to make sure you're not trapped inside of your nightmare

Another nightmare again

The terror, lost lives, your parents, your friends, the destruction of your land that almost crumbled down to never been seen again it has made you feel doubtful to believe that it won't ever happen again

Eddie knows that Henry and Jason spoiled your mind with such things that he wishes there's another way to fix this

He forever cursed them because they're the ones brought you trauma

They're the reason why you don't have a family anymore

They killed your father

The most mind-shattering of it all, they're also the ones who killed your mother

"E-Eddie, I am s-so sorry"

"Please, don't be sorry"

"I really thought I'm going to lose you"

"That was just a bad dream, it's over"

"Don't ever let me go? Please?"

"I won't"

It has been like this and you're so sick and tired of it

It has been like this, for over a week and you might afraid if it goes on and on for days, months and years

You know better

You know better that you must escape this box that Henry and Jason made you tie down to their hellish world

The sun beams, the wind swirls through the white fabric curtains from your balcony

Eddie inhales the sweet morning air as he slowly opens his eyes and it lands on you

It's the same exact position when your natural melatonin visits you at night finally made you sleep

Eddie is concerned about it, ever since, you haven't gotten a lot of sleep when you find out about the truth about him

And with your parents

He knows that you're having a good rest at how your features seems relaxed and your breathing is even

A small smile tugs to his lips that urges him to bring you in closer to his body as you let out a little sigh as you flushed down on his side

You're now laying on his chest as he wraps his arms around you as he runs his hands up and down on your lower back, you snuggle up to him once more and he felt like he wants to shut his eyes once again because at how so comforted you feel

He felt it too, you feel so much better once you're with him, even the moment he rescued you when you accidentally hurt yourself for hitting your head on the reunion happened before

God, the white chiffon dress he once given to you always stays on his mind

Eddie believes in you, you know can get out of that hellhole that is trying to pull you down from that light that you supposed to reach

"Eddie? Are you in there?"

The voice of his uncle snaps out of his thoughts as you stir from your slumber

"Uh- one moment, uncle"

He carefully places your head back on the soft pillows as he covers you with blanket, you went onto the other side as you given into a deep sleep again

He places a kiss on your cheek as you sigh in contentment, he gave you a one last look before he headed outside along with his robe as he ties it

"Hey, son"

"Morning, uncle"

The maid is already in there with breakfast as he nods to bring it over inside

Wayne caught a glimpse of you on the bed and he sighs of relief

"Is she getting improvements?"

"She'll get there, just give her time"

He nods in understanding, "I know, it isn't my place to say words like this but, uh, I was there, before, Eddie- someone else has got to start leading the kingdom run again, her people needs her"

Eddie purses his lips as he clears his throat "I know, Wayne, I know"

Tears starts prickling into the old man's lashes as he gives his nephew a tight nod

"The village is going swell, I-I can't believe I am able to witness this again" Wayne chuckles in delightful way as he exhales through his nose

He knows what exactly what he means by that after Jason brainwashed the whole town by his wretched evil lies

It's been ages since the Munson's are free to walk around your kingdom

Even Wayne is in disbelief that it felt like nothing happened

It felt too real

It feels scary too, it terrifies him because it felt like a dream

"I trust you my boy, I know you're the only one who can help her"

"Yeah" he murmurs as he looks down, he began to fidget with his rings

Wayne saw it, "What's is it?"

That's where the water gushed down to his eyes as he cries in front of his old man

Wayne gave him a hug as he pats his back

"I'm just so nervous, I hate it that she has to feel this way, I wish I could just snatch that pain away from her"

"Don't ever let that nasty thought slide through you, don't ever let it get into you, you will be okay and she will be okay"

"The both of you will be okay like I always pictured"

The sunlight shoots through your eyes and it made you shut your eyes close

You groan and started to stretch your whole body on the bed, you reach your arm out to the other side to find an empty space

You opened up your eyes and sit up and you saw your silver breakfast tray, you heard small muttering outside of the room

You recognized the voices, it's Eddie and Uncle Wayne

You released a heavy sigh, you know what they're talking about and it overwhelms you

You know it's your responsibility

You know it's your obligation

You can't just skip this and neglect your kingdom fall behind

You stand up and you slipped on your robe and went your way onto the small coffee table

You stirred your coffee and ate a piece of bread, you exhale through your nose when it soothes out every ache inside of your body

You never felt in peace ever since you fought together

Thinking about eating normally, it makes you agitated

So, you've never had a proper meal until now

"Good morning, sweetheart" he says softly as he slowly closes the door

Your mouth is full, so, you just looked at him and nod

"How are you feeling?" He watches you intently

You swallowed and take a sip of your coffee and took a deep breath

"I know what you just talked about outside" you say without looking at him as you continue to eat

Eddie licks his lips together as he takes a seat beside you

"Y/N, you know we cared about you"

You just continued to chew absentmindedly

Eddie doesn't want it to take it too far but someone has to struck you with your duties

"People are asking about you, Y/N, they wanted you to serve them"

You stopped at mid-chew as you swallowed as wiped the residue at the table napkin and throw it on the tray

"Am I not allowed to take a moment to let it absorb everything that happened weeks ago?"

"It's almost a month, Y/N"

"I'm aware"

"I know you're getting upset but I'm your partner and as a partner I should be telling you that this isn't right"

Even Eddie knows you're mourning and it will be the hardest for you but you needed this confrontation

"I am grieving, Eddie"

"Aren't we all?"

You stood up to that and began to glare at him

"It's different for you-"

"Y/N, all of us had lost someone-"

"My mother just vanquished right before my eyes and years later without me knowing that she got murdered by the same man and I can't just process that!" You yell at him as your angry tears starts to stream down your cheeks

Eddie clenches his jaw as he seethes through his teeth but his eyes easily soften when he noticed that you're trying not to cry

You let out a exasperated sigh, you stuttered some incoherent words as you try to control your breath

"So, don't tell me that we both have the same losses" you sniffle as you turn your back away from him

He sighs as he stares at your back, "Y/N- I"

"It will never ever make me understand that why are you still here"

You could hear the heavy footsteps as he walks around to face you "What?"

You looked at him with a pained expression that he can't read "Why are you here? Eddie?"

He tilts his head as he chuckles dryly "I cannot grasp on the point of what you're talking about, honey"

"Aren't you not getting tired of me?"

He takes a step foot back at your words as he furrows his brows "What on earth are you talking about?"

You brushed past over him as you went outside in the balcony you rest your hands on the edge of the railings and he follows you

"Are you questioning my love and devotion for you?"

You turn your head at him as your hot-headed demeanor starts to falter

"Is it not enough? Are you falling out of love from me?"

You can see that he's worried, it flashes on his eyes

"N-No- it's not"

He nods carefully as he tries to look at you in the eyes

"Y/N, look at me" he holds both of your forearms

"I can't never spend another life with a wrong soul, it is you that I want forever in my life, the one that I wanted to see whenever I wake up day, noon, night, midnight for all eternity"

You sobbed at his words once again

Right there, you just realized at how lucky you are

Not only he is betrothed to you because of your royalties lie

But also because that he is truly the one for you

No matter how hard you tried to push him away from your darkest hours

He will always be there for you

"Eddie, I need you to leave"

"What?"

"I needed to be alone"

"Y/N- don't be like this, please"

"I just want a time for myself-"

"Y/N"

"Eddie! Please let me be!" You exclaimed as you murmur a small "sorry"

Eddie frowns but still manage to give you a small smile, he begrudgingly let his hold fall from your forearms as he takes his leave from your chambers

"....How is she?..." Jeff asks nicely, the concern is there, Eddie can notice it

"She's taking her time" Eddie rubs his hands across his face

"Do you think it will help?"

"Help what?"

"I don't know..." Gareth trails off as he continues walking outside of your castle, "I feel....guilty for uh- being rough at her at first, you know?" He briefly looks at his friend as he ducks his head down

Eddie chuckles as he nudges his shoulder "I'm sure, Y/N, doesn't mind it"

"Even if she doesn't mind- I mean, If only I knew about her....personal life, well then I guess shouldn't acted that way"

"You've always been like that to anyone, Gareth"

He rolls his eyes, "Is it a bad idea that I want to apologize to her?

"and besides, I'm not like that anymore"

Eddie and Jeff raises both of their brows as Gareth looks back at them and he scoffed as he shook his head sideways

"I'm only like that when it's necessary" He points it out and he shrugs

"I don't know if it's because of the demogorgons made you changed your behavior but I'm glad that you're taking a step to improve your character" Eddie rests his palm on his shoulder as Gareth grows a smile on his lips

"Don't let it get into his head, man, it feeds his ego" Jeff jokingly said as Gareth elbows him on the stomach

"See?!?" Jeff gestures his friend silly actions

Eddie and Gareth laughed but it dies down when a frantic maid is worried about your state

"Sir, uh- Eddie"

"Yes?"

"it seems to be that Princess Y/N is not to be found everywhere"

"What?"

"She's not in her chambers, sire"

"But where could she be?"

"We looked everywhere-"

"Not even in the sanctuary room?"

"No, she's not there"

Jeff and Gareth open the big doors to enter your castle as Eddie commands the maid to look for you and asked the guards to start the search

"Wh-What in the world is happening here?" Enzo gulps in his flask as he asks one of the boys

"Y/N is missing" Jeff answers as he looks at Eddie in concern

"Eddie, don't worry, we will find her like we always do" Gareth reassures him as he pats his back

"I'll get, Wayne" Enzo nods at the boys as they began to move

"Enzo- I" Eddie breathes heavily as Enzo jogged towards to him

"We had an argument earlier and I think- maybe she-" Eddie eyes became blurry to his own tears as he tries to catch up with his breath

"No-No, don't think like that, we are here to help, Eddie"

"Ri-Right" Eddie sniffles as he straightens himself up

A million thoughts began to drill into his mind

Is it because of his choice of words?

Did he hurt you because of it?

Did you hate him?

He will forever loathe himself, if he founds you in a way that will scar him

A scar that can never be healed

Where would you go?

Did you run away from him?

Or your responsibilities?

"Dear sweet flower, life of a royalty can never be easy, there will be a lot of pressures and expectations from you"

"You will face enemies and betrayal, so, you must choose your people wisely"

"You will experience a lot of emotions and If only I could get you take away from all of it, from all of the grotesque things in the world"

"But that's not right on how to teach your child, Is it not? to keep you on locked doors of what it's like out there in the beyond"

"You have to learn how to survive and deal with the ugly and the beauty of the real world"

"You will feel sad, hurt, angry, but you will also feel happy, love, care"

"But that's how life works, right?"

"Show em' what you can do, how brave, bright, and mighty you are, but you also need to learn how to control your power and not get ahead of yourself when you're in the zone"

You try to remember your mother's words and it makes your heartache

You didn't even know that you're crying because not only you can recall her words that she said to you as a kid

But also you can still hear what her voice sound like

Every word from memory, it echoes into your mind and your heart

You run your fingertips on the wooden floors that your mom painted with variety of flowers

"I miss you so much, Mom" you cried out as you let all of the tears fall

You needed this

You have to get this out

You'll pour out all of the saddest elements inside of your body, mind, and soul

"Mom, if you're out there or here with me, I just want to let you know that I love you and please, forgive me that I haven't spoken about you and I'm so sorry for what happened to you, I don't know why am I saying this...." You weep horribly on the ground as you keep looking with a sad smile on your face

There's a one painting of a rose that is a little bit smudged out

You chuckle lightly as the memory reels into your mind, "Remember this? Mom? I was so upset that I messed it up but you let me calm down because you said sometimes messy can be beautiful and it doesn't always have to be perfect"

You chuckle yet again as you nod along with the memory

"Your words didn't die, it lives within me"

"You remind me that being a royal is a duty and it's our purpose to run a kingdom that is safer and humane"

"It is not about the crowns and being wealthy"

"We are not different like them, we are the same as one and we always be equal to who we are"

You wiped your tears as you incredulously laugh for a bit "That's why Henry and Jason hated you, Mom"

"Dad, continued just like the way you wanted it"

"Any sign of her yet?" Eddie pants as he rests his palms over his knees as they both reunited in the middle on the hallway inside of your castle

"No" Gareth shakes his head as he leans against the wall

"Do you have any specific places that you both hang out that only the two of you know about it?"

"No, I already went there and she's not there in the pavilion" he replies as he wipes the perspiration on his forehead

"I heard about what happened" Wayne approaches him along with Enzo

"Oh, Uncle Wayne-" he cuts him off

"Don't apologize, I'm sure she didn't even mean the words that she thrown at you"

"Did you check every inch of the place?" Enzo asks the two boys who looked wasted as they catch their breath

"Yeah, man, we've been through everywhere and we even ask anyone" Jeff answers as he exhales

"Now, I'm getting rattled by this, no one has ever seen her since-" Enzo as he takes a swig from his flask

"After we argued" Eddie finishes off the sentence as he guilty nods and shrugs

"Don't fret, I think I know where could she might be" Wayne holds his nephew by his shoulders

Jeff, Gareth, Enzo looked over at Wayne

"Tell me!"

Eddie ran and ran as fast as his feet could do

He went around the corner and went running forward at the direction where it leads to you

He avoids his brain formulating of the picture of you that he is haunted by it

He doesn't want that, he doesn't want to see it, he wishes that it will never happen

His lungs might be begging for a rest but this isn't what he needs to do

Your life and your existence is his priority at the moment

He won't rest until he sees you okay and well

His eyes hurt by the tears that he continues to stop from falling

He grunts and almost trips and knocks over a couple of vases for trying to look for you

His voice cracked up as he calls for your name

"Y/N?!?"

You turn your head around at the face and you're sitting down on the ground at the center of your parents garden

You couldn't even processed that it's Eddie running over to you as he goes down onto his knees as he pulls you through him

He didn't even double think of holding you and embracing you into his arms

You're confused about why he is acting this way and you noticed that he just cried not too long ago

He pulls you back as he starts cradling both of your cheeks, he studies every single expression on your face, he inspects every part of your body

"E-Eddie- what?"

"Please! Don't ever do that again!" He grabs both of your forearms as you get startled by the raising tone of his voice as he muttered "sorry"

He inhales as he clears his throat and steadying his breath

"I-I thought you've done something to yourself" He weeps in front of you and now you finally understand why he is so perturbed

"Oh...Eddie" your eyes became glossy as you hug him again as you run your hand up and down on his back

"Is it something that I said?" He whispers as he sniffles

"No-no, it's not, Eddie- I just needed to clear up my mind" you said not letting go of him just yet

He caresses your hair as he breathes through the crook of your neck

"I-I'm relieved to see that you're fine"

"Eddie, you know I would never do a thing like that and I'm sorry for making you distressed"

"Just please, tell me where you we're going, if you want to be alone, okay? Sweetheart?"

"Okay"

"Eddie, it's time" Enzo opens the door as he awaits for him

"Yeah, I'll be there" He says as he fixes his linen shirt, he sees you in the reflection his eyes softens

You're taking a sip of your coffee as you read your favorite fantasy book in the balcony

"Y/N"

"Yeah?" You looked at him and you blushed "You look very dashing, Eddie" you smile sheepishly

He grins as he leans down on you wraps his arms around you behind your back as he rests his head over your shoulder

"You don't have to go if you really don't want to, no pressure" He whispers as he kisses your neck, you nod as you think about it

You're feeling a whole lot better after those dreadful weeks

You didn't get the same nightmares you had before

You're slept well, you've been eating gladly, yes, sometimes, you get so blue but it's also bittersweet that this is progress

You're finally moving forward and you will never looked back at the past ever again

You won't forget those people who chose their life in danger for your own sake

They chose you because your own people and your friends believe in you

You won't waste their sacrifices, you're going to make it last

You won't let them down, life has made you rough and mature but you didn't never lose yourself

"Eddie?"

"Yes?"

"You might be late"

"Right"

"You know Wayne didn't like tardiness" you chuckle as he snorted

"Yeah, I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Okay"

He places a quick kiss on your lips as he hold your cheek for a moment before he leaves

You placed down your book on the table as you deeply sighs as you stare at the sky and you let winds of change move you

You inhale the sweet morning smell of fresh air and flowers blooming through your corridor

And then.... that's where it got you

You know what exactly what your father told you on what you should do in the future

This is the future

You pull down the ring from your bedside

"Yes, your grace?" The maid walked in as she saw you standing in front of your vanity

"Can you help me with the gown that I'm going to wear this morning?"

The maid didn't even hide the knowing smile on her face as you gave her back the same gesture, she nods happily as she helps you get ready

"Is she not going to join us?" Enzo asks as he combs through his hair

"Events like this- it's nerve-wracking- I don't blame her for not going" Eddie says as he straightens himself up

"Boys, don't ruffle your linen shirts like that" Wayne spoke and walks over to them but stops abruptly as he tuts at their attire

Jeff and Gareth looked at their clothes as they dart their eyes on Eddie

"It should be something like my nephew over there" he points it out and gave a tight nod to him

Eddie smiled proudly at himself "Well done, son"

"Like a true prince" Enzo jokes, as Eddie chortled

"Yeah, yeah, alright- alright we're going to fix it" Gareth flips them both off as he brings the ruffles back inside of his vest

"Like how are we supposed to know the right way to wear this" Gareth adds as he struggles to make it right

"And he said that he wasn't like that anymore" Jeff mocks him some of his words before

Enzo and Eddie laughed as they left an overdramatic Gareth behind as he jogged to them

"Good day, everyone, Thank you for joining us in this coronation day" Wayne greeted the whole town

Eddie glanced at the crown that is meant for him but he stares longer at the one who is still in the case

He knows that one it's meant for you

"My dear boy, Edward Munson is going to be the town's king"

Eddie gulped, he wishes that you're here as his knee bopped up and down in an anxious way

"Miss Y/N, our princess won't-" Wayne cuts off at the townspeople clamoring about something else

"Look, it's the princess!" One of the kids points a finger at you

Enzo, Jeff and Gareth stood up and is very delighted to see you

Eddie slowly gets up and it's enamored by your presence

Both of your eyes meet and locked in as he saw something about you

You may be not the same girl as you was before but what can see is a true woman

A woman that is ready to fill in the shoes that it needs

Not a princess, not about being a royalty

It's the real you that he sees, he knows that you've never lost it

He nods as he began to start clapping, Enzo, Jeff and Gareth and even Wayne is an awe as they also clap their hands

The rest of the crowd begins to applause as well

You're touched at how they cheer for you

They open up the case, you curtsey as you lean down forward your head as you looked up to Wayne who is about to place the crown on you

He looked at your eyes directly, he smiles that he can also see it too at this gratifying moment

Eddie goes beside you didn't even need to look at your side because you already know who it is and both of you automatically laced your hands together

You wave at them happily

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, darling?"

"How will I ever repay for you having faith in me?" You say as you step closer to him

He blinks the tears away from his eyes as he tightens his hold on you

"You don't have to do anything because I will forever remain at your side" He says as he kisses your hand

You brightly smile at him as you looked behind your back

You see Jeff whoops both of your names in celebration, Gareth jumping up and down in excitement and Enzo wincing how loud the two are but a fond smile sitting on his face, you laughed at the sight of it

You watched Wayne placed the crown on Eddie as the crowd roars and screams in victory

"Hawkins, you have your King and Queen!" Wayne announces as you both gathered around him in a tight hug

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"What will you do if you found your other half in life and that person will be your partner?"

"Never leave them, always encourage them to be the best version of themselves, the unwavering trust and be on their side through ups and downs"

"That's my girl!"

"You know what you're going to do?"

"it's only getting started, Dad"

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

In the End it Doesn't Even Matter (I Had To Fall to Lose it All) [Full Version!!!]

I almost forgot that I said I'd post the full version of the flashfictionfriday snippet I did a while ago (it's here), so here you go, enjoy the angst in it's full glory :). This is the current ending I have for Sleeping Beauty's Bodyguard, as of Draft 0.

Wordcount: 2870 (a little ridiculous ngl XD)

Warnings: main character death (kinda), angst galore, Raven sad boi hours, really creepy with lots of horror elements, I'm not kidding i didn't pull my punches with this one, so many feels

Fractured Stars Falling, Book 6 - Draft 0 - Plot and Character Dynamic Exploration

The fight raged around outside as they raced through the palace, searching for a safe place to hide. Shouting, the clash of blades, and the evil cackles of someone echoed through the air, shaking the castle down to its foundation. Fire and lightning rained down outside as the Witch Queen’s dark sorcerers attacked.

Some of the dark sorcerers made it into the palace and came right for them. Harry and several others jumped in the sorcerers’ path, swords up and ready for a fight.

Raven didn’t hesitate to use the chance his comrades were giving them, and ran- keeping Sapphire in front of him.

She kept insisting that she was fine and didn’t need protection, trying to go back and help.

Raven’s voice sounded more and more fearful by the second as he tried to convince her to let him take her to safety.

She couldn't figure out why for the life of her, but the panic edging into his voice made her heart ache. Sapphire had never heard or seen him this scared before.

Finally, she gave in and stopped fighting to go back. Anything to help him feel less scared.

They both ran around a corner, and Raven led them up the stairs. The staircase wound upward in a spiral, getting tighter and narrower as it went on.

At the top, a narrow hallway led to the next tower over, and a door was directly in front of them. The door in front of them led to one of the astronomy observatories on the other side. The hallway led to another one, or one of the attics.

Down the staircase, the echoes of combat got louder.

Raven opened the door in front of them, and glanced down the stairs. “You stay in here, I’ll lead them away.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine, I need you safe.”

Sapphire stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why are you still trying to protect me? My stepmother wants you dead, and you’re not my bodyguard anymore.”

Raven looked up from watching the staircase for danger, staring at her- from her lips, to her dirty dress that still made her beautiful, to her dark blue eyes, to her messy auburn curls that looked better messed up, back to her lips- He grabbed her hand, looking at it.  “I’d protect you even if it wasn’t my job.”

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as they both stared down at their entwined hands, the sounds of the fight below dying away.

He was holding both her hands in his in front of him, squeezing for any source of comfort. They both started to lean in, thinking the same thing as they pulled each other closer. Their faces were so close their noses brushed, and both could feel the light puffs of each other’s hot breath on their skin.

A loud clash echoed from below, announcing the dark sorcerers getting closer.

Raven pushed the observatory door open. “Lock yourself inside, stay quiet and hidden, don’t let anyone in. I’ll come back and get you once it’s over.”

Sapphire bit her lip, looking between the room and the staircase below. Finally, her gaze landed on him. “You come back alive and in one piece, promise?”

He lifted her hand, gently kissing her knuckles. “I promise. Don’t let anyone in unless it’s me, got it?”

Reluctantly, she nodded and entered the observatory room. As she closed the door, she stole one last look at Raven as he drew his sword and started down the hallway to the next tower.

Once the door closed and the lock clicked, Sapphire tried to make herself comfortable. The old observatory was dusty, old charts and stargazing equipment laying forgotten. There were three windows in the tower room to use for looking at the stars, all of them wide open, with telescopes poking through two.

Not wanting to be spotted, she started closing the windows. Before she could shut the last one, there was a noise.

The whoosh of a breeze.

A footstep.

Cackling, muffled and faint.

Sapphire quickly shut the window and whipped around. There was no one behind her that she could see. Not taking any chances, she snatched up a nearby book and raised it in defense.

There was nothing. No more noise, other than the muffled and distant sounds of dying combat.

Walking to the middle of the room, she slowly lowered the book, her back to the door. Despite not seeing or hearing anything unusual, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

Sapphire could’ve sworn she was alone in that observatory. She had locked the door behind her, it was empty when she came in, it looked and sounded empty now…

And yet her instincts told her that something dangerous was near and she needed to run far away. She lowered the book slowly, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves. Maybe she was imagining it, or the thrill from the fight was making her hyperaware.

“There you are, you little rat.”

Long bony arms grabbed Sapphire, one pinning her arms to her sides. An unearthly chill filled her, freezing all the way to her core.

She opened her mouth to cry for help, father, Constance, Raven- but her scream was quickly muffled by a cold hand with ashy skin, long knobby fingers, and sharp fingernails like claws.

“Oh yes, scream for your precious Raven all you want, he can’t hear you, but he’s coming back isn’t he?” The voice was so sweet it was sickening. The woman gave a small, dark chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you see him one last time before I- well it’s not exactly killing, since you’ll still be breathing and everything, but I can’t have you spilling my little secret. I can promise you won’t be waking up anytime soon.” Her claws tightened, digging into Sapphire’s skin. The woman giggled. “Or ever.”

Sapphire struggled harder, not wanting to find out what she meant.

“You know the more you fight the longer this is going to take,” the woman pulled Sapphire’s head back. The woman was in her early twenties by Sapphire’s guess, with ashy gray skin that had black cracks spiderwebbing across it. The woman’s hair was a black, tattered rat’s nest, and her eyes were glowing purple, filled with a crazed glint. The robes she wore were tattered, old, and musty. The woman grinned. “And if you keep fighting it’s only going to get more painful, so I suggest you sit back and relax, little rat.”

Sapphire’s breath caught in her throat as her heart hammered wildly out of fear. She fought harder. If she could just get a hand free, she could grab that book and bash the witch’s head in with it.

“Feisty and brave little rat, aren’t you?” The witch said. She released the hand covering Sapphire’s mouth, but her jaw and lips stayed forced shut, as if by some invisible iron hand was clamped around her face.

With her now free hand, the witch snapped her fingers, and a sewing needle appeared, hanging by an invisible thread. The witch turned it in the air so it stood up- the sharp point glinting sinisterly in the light. There was no way to know for sure what the needle could do- but Sapphire knew it couldn’t be good or pleasant.

Sapphire froze as all of the pieces fell into place and she finally realized who this witch was.

The Witch Queen.

“Ah, you’ve finally figured out who I am….” The Witch said. The arm pinning Sapphire’s arms to her sides tightened painfully. Keeping her other arm pinned, the witch grabbed her wrist, lifting it towards the sewing needle as she held it up.

Fear surged through Sapphire, and she struggled even more, yanking and jerking her hand away, curling it into a tight fist. Panic rising, Sapphire fought harder still, kicking and trying to throw The Witch off.

Then the invisible hand that was clamping her jaw shut plugged her nose. Sapphire’s eyes widened as her lungs started to scream for air. The harder she struggled, the more air she needed, making it worse.

After what felt like ages, just before she passed out, the invisible hand released her nose and she could breathe again. The Witch didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to- the warning was clear as day.

The Witch just smiled, and continued- wiggling Sapphire’s first finger out of her fist and holding the tip towards the needle.

Fighting back was no longer an option, which sent a wave of panic through Sapphire. She always hated the feeling of being trapped and helpless, but this was the absolute most terrified and trapped she had ever felt in her life. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she tried to keep her finger as far away as possible from the needle.

Outside the door, she could hear Raven calling for her, telling her the fight was over. She felt a tiny glimmer of relief, and shouted as loud as she could through the hand.

The Witch Queen chuckled and smiled wickedly. She lifted one finger, and flicked it- a small shadow moved, unlocking the door.

~~~

The fight finally started to let up, and Raven sighed with relief. It was going to be fine, the danger was gone.

While the sorcerers started disappearing and the other soldiers celebrated, Raven started making his way back to the tower where Sapphire was. Indigo headed over to the stable to see if he could find a snack after all the fighting, and Little Stripe followed.

Raven could barely contain his excitement and ran all the way up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to the observatory tower. As he got closer, he called for her, but no answer came, and the door stayed locked.

He swallowed, trying to stay calm. Maybe she just hadn’t heard him, the door did seem pretty thick, or maybe he hadn’t been as loud as he thought he was-

The door unlocked, and Raven’s muscles relaxed as he smiled tiredly. Unable to wait a second longer, he pushed the door open-

An older woman with a rat’s nest for hair and ashy gray skin was holding Sapphire against her. A black shadow of a hand covered Sapphire’s mouth, keeping her from talking, and the witch was about to prick her finger on a sewing needle floating in the air.

Raven glared daggers at the witch, drawing his sword, and his voice deathly even and low. “Get your hands off her.”

The witch gave him a crazed, wicked grin, and pricked Sapphire’s finger on the needle. Sapphire struggled against the witch’s grip, shouting behind the black hand- a small whimper escaped her, stabbing right through his heart.

Raven gripped his sword so tight his hand shook, but he didn’t care. He started to charge over, sword raised- when the witch released her. Sapphire stumbled away, gasping for air. She looked up, and her expression softened at the sight of him.

Then she looked down at her hand, at the red dot of blood blooming on her finger.

Her eyes started to roll back and she would’ve crumpled to the floor if Raven hadn’t dropped his sword and caught her first. She was still breathing and he could feel a heartbeat, but she was sound asleep and completely limp in his arms as her eyes closed.

The witch, who Raven finally recognized as the Witch Queen, cackled. “Good luck breaking the sleeping curse. It’s a sleep like death, and an unbreakable one at that.” Then with a giggle of glee, she waved her hands and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Hesitantly, Raven cradled her head with one hand and rubbed the knuckles on one of her hands with the other. “Sapph’?” His voice came out barely louder than a whisper. “Wake up, come on… Please…” He shook her, but she didn’t stir in the slightest.

There was maybe one time when Raven had felt so helpless in his life, and that was when he was a small boy and was being picked on by a bunch of bigger kids.

That was nothing compared to the overwhelming dread and helplessness that filled him now. It was so suffocating he was drowning in it.

A sleep like death, the witch had called it. Raven was beginning to understand now, much to his dismay.

She was still alive, technically, as she was still breathing and her heartbeat could still be felt. 

But she was never going to wake up.

It was almost worse than if her death had looked more like death- at least then it wouldn’t mock him with the feel of her heartbeat and movement of her breathing that amounted to nothing.

Getting desperate, he shook her again. “Sapphire, please, you can’t do this to me… you have to wake up, please, please-” His voice cracked at the last word as his hands started to shake.

She didn’t stir or make a noise at all.

Down the stairs, he could hear people shouting and looking for the princess. Someone mentioned that they saw the traitor- him- take her up the stairs, and the voices got louder, joined by footsteps racing up the staircase behind him.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered to Sapphire, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m gonna fix this, I’m gonna fix this I swear.”

Then he gently laid her down on the floor, and made his escape through the open window.

~~~

Four days. That was how long he waited.

Raven managed to slip under the radar at the castle, hiding in plain sight with the help of his brothers Harry and Arthur. After Sapphire had been found, Queen Constance was livid and convinced that Raven had been the one to put her under whatever spell was keeping her asleep and unwakeable. 

While the Queen and her soldiers searched high and low for him, Sapphire was laid down in the most defendable room of the castle.

At night, his brothers volunteered to guard the room, and would let Raven in once everyone was asleep, and cover for him should anyone be up at those hours. 

The servants had cleaned her up nicely, she was in a new dress, a dark green one again. Her hair had also been washed and brushed, now weaved into an intricate braid. A few flowers were tucked under her hands, which were folded gracefully on her chest.

For four nights, Raven sat next to the bed, hoping and praying for her to wake up- no matter how futile it was and that the curse was unbreakable. 

He gently adjusted her pillows and blankets to make her more comfortable, braided her hair, held her hand and gently kissed it, and talked to her. He talked about everything- mostly about how sorry he was, what was going on in the castle, and all of his questions and promises on how he was going to fix this.

He started sneaking into the library, scouring through every book he could find on magic. He narrowed his search to curses and magic related to sleeping- but didn’t come up with anything helpful.

So he broadened his search to all magic, for anything.

One night when he couldn’t stand sitting next to her bed and praying for her to wake, he slipped into the library again.

He dug into the section of magic books on dark magic (there were too few), and found something, a spell.

It wasn’t much, a long shot at best- but it was the only thing he had. Raven picked out all the pages in the book related to that spell, and carefully tore them out. He found a detailed map of Eltya as well in the topography section.

With the help of his brothers, he found and prepared a small wagon. Indigo, being stronger than Dante, would pull the wagon. Raven would ride Dante for mobility.

Harry helped him sketch out the best route on the map. When he asked Raven what his plan was exactly, he didn’t have the heart to say.

Then, in the dead of night, they made final preparations for Raven’s quest. Making sure no one was anywhere near her room, Raven gently wrapped her up in blankets. Once he had the all clear from Harry, Raven carried her out, cradled in his arms, her head resting on his chest.

Just outside the stables the wagon, Indigo, and Little Stripe were waiting for him. Harry was packing his saddle bags and securing them to Dante, while Arthur kept watch.

He laid her down in the carefully arranged pile of blankets and pillows, tucking a few more around her. Raven brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, imagining that she was awake and smiling at him with those deep, dark blue eyes- eyes he was terrified that he’d never get to see again.

Something hot and wet trickled down his cheek. Raven quickly wiped it away, steeling his nerves. He clutched the small leather bound journal in his hand that contained the map and the pages from the books.

The spell was going to work.

It had to.

Taglists!

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[gunjounoflorseca]

“全人類ヒューマノイド/We are to be humanoid beings” Analysis or Whatever by firstname “bunny” lastname

My caveats

1. I have an extremely elementary understanding of Japanese, DeepL and language forums can only take you so far. Going off the English translation of the lyrics in the video and just doing my best with the written interview

2. Even more basic understanding of music theory, I am a simple college dropout vocalist

3. Never read hamlet, not an astronomer

This seems to be a work where every aspect of it is a different story expressing the same or a connected theme. We get different information in each part that pulls it all together.

A. Lyrics

B. MV

C. The music itself

D. To Be

BONUS: thing I just considered

It’s the feeling of losing humanity and the Earth, quite literally ⤵️

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terraforming_of_Mars

But also how this dynamic can fit in one’s personal life

LYRICS

So, first time through, it appears as a breakup song full of resentment and either a literal sci-fi horror romance event, or a little delusion. The protagonist, A, is going through a breakup full of cruelty, rage, and the feeling that they don’t know who they’re with anymore. A feels like their partner, B, isn’t even human anymore. A does consider if it’s themself that’s changed, but regardless, it’s over. A still feels deeply for B and wants the best for them, (though I don’t particularly trust them as a narrator) but it’s over.

The second verse is about how soon some humans, including B, are going to participate in the project of abandoning earth to move to mars. I’m unsure if A is also joining because of the “I hope your comrades on mars make you happy” line. Maybe when A & B get there they’ll just stop hanging out, though.

If we aren’t taking this literally, the event isn’t migration but something that pushed A too far and caused the breakup. I think understanding the original lyrics would help me sort out this part better. 😞

I also think it’s possible that the perspective switches between A & B due to the “to be” factor which I will get to!

I think the thesis statement of the lyrical story & themes are in the title and the English lyrics. Of course the title will stand out, and why use a different language if not to emphasize it? Maybe because it sounds different or fits better but she’s a very intentional and thorough artist.

For the final part with the title “humanoid” is repeated multiple times while the protagonist breaks down into total despair with the final line “in a room without you” it adds an enclosed feeling, as opposed to the video where those characters are out in the open. 「全人類ヒューマノイド」 is an endgame event, a terrible occurrence. Suffocating and life destroying.

For the English portions there are:

“Break up, it’s over / stay away from me”

And “I’ll never say you again 「愛してるよ」” / “I’ll never see you again” which strongly establish the breakup portion of the story. I think there could be a reading that maybe the couple will get back together, there are still feelings there, but with these ideas emphasized, that’s the ending for sure.

But my favorite is “survive in any form.” I think this speaks strongest to the overall message of 「全人類ヒューマノイド」 / “We are to be Humanoid Beings.” No matter what happens, even if you become “humanoid” rather than “human,” you will continue. It’s the theme of survival over humanity, staying in the relationship despite loss of love(/respect/care/whatever), staying alive and free despite having to carry the burden of death.

VIDEO

The characters are White, Black, and White2.

White is in extreme poverty, living on the street in the city and we see Black sitting in a run down building. While scavenging, White is caught by him and tied up. We also see her sitting under a streetlight and Black appears offering her hand. She takes it. Black leads her out of the city, over water and trails, feeding her and assumedly taking her out of poverty. The power shifts at some point, where still tied up, White drags Black through the dirt. When they’re far enough away from the city, Black unties her. She chokes him to death. We see a similar scene under the streetlight but instead of offering his hand, he walks past her. White breaks down sobbing. We see a montage of their time together and her life before they met. She returns to the city, now wearing his clothes. Under the streetlight, White stands before another girl, White2, wearing White’s previous clothes, and offers her hand. White2 takes it.

Notes:

- The rope and bottom of White’s shoes are bright reddish orange. I believe this represents the Mars angle

- In a scene under the streetlight a rat runs by and when she’s being led to a field, there’s a couple shots of frogs (that appear to be, anyway) having sex. Lucky!!! Very fitting!!!

- Throughout the video there are very quick shots and still images of White digging in trash and sitting curled up in the city. Sometimes the colors change and ummm it’s just a very good video

- I think it’s possible to read the end as White and White2 being the same person and the cycle continues inwards but I don’t think that’s the case. We see a shot of White2’s face and I think it wouldn’t be too hard to make it look like Saechi is both people. I’m going with the interpretation that they’re two different people.

I think this video tells a few stories. Taking it all very literally, where a man kidnaps a woman under the guise of helping her, she kills him, and then takes on his role to then do the same that was done to her, to another woman. I would watch this movie. I did watch this movie, it’s a music video. It’s very good. Did I say that it’s good yet?

Next, connecting it to the lyrics, it can be a regular bad love story. Someone emotionally vulnerable is taken advantage of and coerced into an abusive relationship. There’s power imbalance and struggle there and even though they break up, the victim carries that hurt and continues the cycle of abuse into their next relationship.

But I think it’s mostly about Mars. In capitalist cultures we (broadly speaking) don’t take care of the Earth, we don’t take care of each other, we don’t even take care of what we’ve made ourselves. We build and we destroy and we take over and then we leave it to rot when it doesn’t serve us. If you can’t make money, what use are you? People have debates on who “deserves” health and happiness based on how much work they do. This is also how we treat the planet. Is it worth saving or is fattening rich people’s wallets more important? If we move to Mars, we haven’t learned anything. We’ll do the same thing to her. We’ll do the same thing until we’ve died out. This story is a terrible tragedy and a simple statement. If we continue as we are, it’s inevitable that humanity will disappear.

MUSIC

I don’t have much to say here but I think it’s worth mentioning that I think the actual arrangement and music itself is part of this story building. It feels huge and dark, while building a lot of tension. There are a lot of instruments used but they compliment each other rather than blend together (in my opinion!) so it really suits the idea of a planet-altering event. I really don’t know how to talk about this 😰 the feelings the strings bring is a base feeling of tragedy and adding chorus, piano, guitar, in the way that they’re used really creates a kind of terror. The inhale at the end of the song makes me feel like there’s more to the story, too, going along with the cycle ending of the video.

“TO BE”

In the video description it says

原作「To be, or not to be」：大塚紗英

Original work “To be, or not to be”: Sae Otsuka

PART A

[I’ve just found out that there is a film with the same title but I’m pretending that’s not an option because I don’t know anything about it (curtesy)]

And that is the very famous phrase from Shakespeare’s Hamlet. I’ve actually been meaning to get into Shakespeare maybe I’ll start with this one? Info ⤵️

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_be,_or_not_to_be

Basically, this is the beginning of the speech where Hamlet considers if he should commit suicide or murder and if life is worth it despite so much pain. Is death a peaceful sleep or not?

Is it worth it to break up a relationship you’re so used to being in? Is it worth it to give up on Earth and try to survive on a planet you weren’t made for?

PART B

The official English title of the song is “We are to be Humanoid Beings,” something that surprised me! 「人類」 is not a word I’d ever consciously come across before so I was curious how it would be translated and thought it would be something like “All humanity are humanoids.” This shouldn’t have surprised me though because recent releases have a similar thing going (“ロマンスのはじまり /the beginning of romance” is officially “romance dawn” and “ロマンスは映画より奇なり / romance is stranger than films”became “romance is stranger than this sweet movie”). This is super telling to what the core idea is, like with the usage of English in the lyrics. She’s incredibly deliberate with her word choices.

“Humanoid” in English, and I think it’s the same in Japanese but forgive me if I’m missing nuance, is something that looks like a human but is not. Robots, aliens, monsters, that kind of thing.

“To be” is connected to Hamlet in the description but in addition to being an English verb it’s also a phrase meaning “future.” “Soon-to-be”, “bride-to-be,” “humanoid being-to-be.”

If we aren’t on Earth, are we still humans?

BONUS: THING I JUST CONSIDERED

There is also something to be said about gender here because Mars’s symbol ♂ is also used represent the male sex scientifically and culturally and Venus ♀, the feminine counterpart, is another planet people have theorized about terraforming/colonizing. I took the romance story as gender neutral/fluid rather than about a straight couple’s power dynamics. I think I could do a whole queer lens reading about why White2 is specifically a woman but I think it’s more to show that the gender doesn’t matter here? Abuse and hurt can take place in any kind of relationship. (Or she is who they had available/it would stand out more to have a guy in a dress.)「僕 」and 「あなた」 are what’s used for “I” and “you” which are neutral in English. 「僕」 is masculine but not uncommon to be used by women in lyrics and 「あなた」 is neutral but there are more masculine alternatives. (I don’t know if any of the other lyrics are particularly gendered, forgive me 😰) So it could be BF -> GF but I think along with the video with the story of GF -> BF it balances it out. Maybe! Just thought about Roman mythology and sailor moon for a moment and thought it was worth mentioning!

IN CONCLUSION: LETS TRY TO NOT DESTROY EARTH OR EACH OTHER, OK? 💕💕💕💕

[caelestialilium]

The war had been hard on him, that’s what all the people say. They don’t see that it had been harder on his comrades.

Losing an arm is nothing against losing your head. Literally. He sees Nanaba’s cold eyes every night. Mike had been brave, so very brave, but he bled out right on the floor, lying in Erwin’s arms, waiting till the three bullets in his stomach took their toll.

Hange had endured getting their eye destroyed, but nobody could have escaped the fire. They did so he could flee.

Erwin was the only one in his unit, the most respected unit in the whole military, who had come back from the front.

Nobody thinks about them anymore, except their mothers, they all see just the hero of the war who have come back alive. They may see how it affected them, but mainly they see the victory they brought to their country.

Once a week people stop by, bring him food, clean his house. The government pays them.

It wants to repair damages, repay its debt.

Sometimes he gets guests, the villagers which had heard of him. They are sensationalists.

He still tries to convince them that he is not a useless man. The strong man who led them into freedom was inside.

When they help too much, he screams. The anger overcomes him. In the old days, anger was a stranger to him.

Nowadays, nobody can hand him something without his heart clenching terribly.

It feels like it was long ago, the time where Erwin was the one giving commands and everyone looking up at him like he can provide them all with answers.

Peace spread around the whole continent, every war that wages is thousands of miles away.

Men like Erwin are not needed anymore. They are just a reminder of the horrors that must be forgotten.

Yesterday, he had gotten a fresh load of vegetables and fruits. The people around did not expect him to be, but he was a good chef – the stew had been delicious and he still can eat today and tomorrow some of it. The fresh bread next to it gave him the energy he needed.

He barely did any sport outside, but he does regularly some practice inside – it’s the one thing he knows to do.

And reading.

Reading is the second thing.

Losing his head inside a new book, forgetting everything present and just imagining all the landscapes the heroes scour through in their adventures.

Erwin does not want to be in one in this life again. Other people have to live through them.

Spending the afternoon on his armchair, furrowing the brows because he can already anticipate which turmoil the heroine needs to endure next; Erwin suddenly feels weak in his knees.

A cold shiver runs down his spine and he looks up, putting a thumb in between the pages of the book.

He does not know what irritated him. Until he looks to the window.

His garden has no fence, everyone can just walk on it – but nobody does.

Usually.

The boy is barely ten. Erwin has never been around children for a longer time, he cannot estimate well, but he looks tiny. His hair is black like the feathers of a raven and his face looks dangerously thin, like he does not eat enough.

The kid looks at him, without moving a muscle.

Erwin stares right back, wondering if he should invite him inside – he really looks starved. Not only his knees, his fingers start to feel weak too. The book slips right on the floor.

In the moment he raises to go closer to the boy, he steps aside. Erwin cannot see him anymore through the window. But he rushes to it. He feels a sudden rush of energy he cannot explain.

When he opens the window to call out for the boy, he is gone.

For a second, Erwin fears he turns insane. That it was just a hallucination.

But why should he hallucinate a strange child standing in front of his window?

 

He sits down again.

His stump stings, more than usual, all out of the sudden.