#in the sense that I can still use my ambush tactics but I need to set things up differently

[deepsixsquid]

Yeah, even I have no idea how that worked But I shall not question it

[avengersfantasies]

A Night With Him in Bucharest - 5

Summary: You can sense something is wrong when you lose contact with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo, so you go to find and help them, but you believe you know who is behind the ambush on your lover and his friend.

What to expect: violent stuff

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist (people who asked and that I think may be interested): @pattiemac1 @justsebstan @winterslove1917 @crist1216 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @kandis-mom @vonalyn @ilovetaquitosmmmm

            Something was wrong. You could feel it in your soul. Up until roughly fifteen minutes ago, you, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo were in perfect contact – your information being relayed to Bucky and Sam mostly – being so petty as to have Zemo communicate to you through the other two.

            “Could you route us through the containers?” Zemo would ask.

            “I’m sorry,” you’d say with a hint of pettiness. “Bucky, Sam, did you guys say something?”

            One of them would sigh before saying the same thing Zemo had just said. “Could you route us through the containers, please?”

“I’d be happy to,” you’d answer.

That was the last contact you had with them, however. Each second led to more anxiety when they didn’t respond. You would’ve settled to hear Zemo’s voice at this point. You continued to attempt contact for another fifteen minutes – making a total of thirty minutes before you finally gave in. You walked across the hallway and knocked on the door of your neighbors. They had a teenage daughter who loved to watch James, and you knew she was home at this time.

            “Hello!” The parents greeted you with a smile that quickly faltered when they saw how worried you were. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered through your anxiety. “Could Savannah watch James for a little bit? I had an emergency come up.”

“Sure thing,” they nodded. “Savannah!”

The teenager grabbed her backpack with her homework and laptop in it before heading across the hall with you. “I shouldn’t be too late,” you told her – hurrying and getting dressed into some appropriate clothing. “If I’m not back in a few hours, do you mind staying the night?”

Savannah stated that she didn’t mind, and once you were changed, you went into James’ room to tell him you had something to go take care of.

            “Momma?” The toddler looked confused at your outfit. You were wearing black tactical pants with a belt that consisted of two holsters – a gun in each one and a pocket on each side of your legs for your knives. You wore a black, long-sleeved shirt covered with a leather, bulletproof jacket and fingerless gloves. “What you wearin?”

“I have to go somewhere super important, okay buddy?” you told him – holding him close to you. “Savannah is here to watch you, so if you need anything she’ll be here.”

“You be back tonight?”

“I’ll try my best, buddy.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly – kissing him all over his head and face. “I love you.”

“I love you, momma,” he said – giving you a kiss on your cheek.

After bidding James and Savannah goodbye, you grabbed your AR15 and headed out of the apartment – hopping on your Suzuki Hayabusa and taking off towards the last location you had for the trio. You drove through the streets filled with heavy traffic – all of your skills still sharpened from when you were under Zemo’s control. At this moment, it’s the only time you thanked him. It didn’t take long to find the last location they were at – the high flames being a tell-tell sign that something was happening in the distance. You sped up – your adrenaline spiking – wanting nothing more than to get there and make sure the father of your son was okay. As you pulled up to the area, the destruction was much more than you originally anticipated. You pulled your black mask up to your face in an attempt to keep your cover. Getting off your bike, you took your AR15 from your back and carefully walked around the shipping containers – your eye up to the sight and finger hovering just over the trigger – ready to shoot at any moment. Peeking around the corner of the first row of containers, you saw a group of men trying to stealthily walk around with their own weapons aimed. If anything, you knew you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself if you could get away with it. Putting your rifle back on your back, you took out two of your knives – holding one in each hand and snuck up on the men. Once the first one was down, you’d no doubt be fighting…you knew you had to take down as many as possible before being discovered. You quietly climb up on top of a container and crept up to the men – wanting to see where they were heading. When you realized they had no idea where the trio was, you leapt from the container – taking two of them out on each side before kicking the one in front, spinning him around and slashing his neck.

“Still got it,” you quietly praised yourself – cleaning the blood off your knives on the dead men’s clothes. Noticing that they had 9mm ammo, you took it and kept it in one of your spare pockets just in case your pistols needed more in the event of a shootout.

You continued your search for the three men – taking out any enemies that you came across – doing everything as quietly as possible. You knew you’d be screwed if you drew the attention of everyone. You were one person, and super soldier or not, one versus multiples is never a good position to be put in if avoidable.

You heard a gunshot – your head quickly scanning the area around you. Had you been seen? Was someone shooting at the guys? You didn’t have time to find out. You followed the sound and eventually heard a familiar voice. It was Bucky’s voice, and he was trying to keep the collapsing container off the other two men who lay there unconscious. You quickly walked up to him.

“Bucky,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked up at you. “What’re you doing here?”

“I lost contact with you guys,” you told him. “I came to help.”

“Where’s James?”

“With the babysitter,” you assured him. “He’s fine…let me help you.”

“Grab that end,” he instructed – nodding towards the other end of the container. “Gotta get it off ‘em.”

With the power of two super soldiers, you and he were able to move the large shipping container and pull them to safety. “What happened?” you asked.

“No idea,” Bucky panted. “We got separated, next thing I knew, there were explosions everywhere.”

“Right.” You were skeptical at his story. You didn’t think he was lying, but you also didn’t believe that it happened out of nowhere. You made that thought evident when Zemo finally woke up and got to his feet. Before he could say anything, you kicked him back to the ground – taking out one of your pistols and aiming it at him in between the eyes.

“Woah, woah,” he said – holding his hands up. “It’s me.”

“Yeah,” you seethed, “exactly.” You cocked the gun and pressed it against his forehead.

“Babe, put the gun down,” Bucky tried to plead. “He didn’t do this.”

You scoffed. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“James is right,” Zemo confirmed. “I did not do this.”

“I don’t believe you,” you spat – hovering over him. “I failed to kill him, so you’re taking matters into your own hands, is that it?”

            “Listen to them,” Sam cut in. “He didn’t do this.”

“This isn’t you,” Bucky pleaded, but his words did nothing to sway you as you continued to stare at Zemo and hold the gun to him. “You’re not a killer…not anymore.”

“Aren’t I, though?” you questioned. “That’s exactly what he made me into!”

Bucky gently rested his hand on your shoulder. “Think about James,” he begged. “We need to go home to him.”

“We will,” you argued, your finger beginning to pull the trigger. “Tell me,” you ordered Zemo. “Tell me the truth.”

“I did not set us up,” he continued to insist. “Why would I get myself in danger?”

You chuckled incredulously. “Because you’re you.”

“Please, don’t do this,” Bucky continued to beg. Zemo’s eyes looked over to Sam and Bucky, and if you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of fear in them. “Let’s go home to our son.”

You pulled the gun away form Zemo’s forehead, and for a moment, there was a sigh of relief from the three of them, but that sense of relief was quickly shattered by the sound of a loud gunshot.

[autumnbrambleagain]

Hi, first time reader, first time caller. I ended up reading proselytize in between my various beginner runs in qud to keep me motivated. It's really good! You're a very talented writer with a great sense of pacing, character and style! I was just wondering though, do you have default builds for all the daughters of nafpor, or are they more like archetypes?

oh gosh thank you! i am always stunned at how well received proselytize has been, i'm glad people are enjoying it so much

i experiment a lot with them when i play them, so i have a lot saved, although TBH a lot of them are older characters from over a year ago

here's suir softbeast's canonical build, although this is just like. her base, larval form without any of her chimera stuff. there's a mod that lets you pick what your chimeric limbs are when evolving so you can have the exact same suir softbeast experience, the randomization of it means any future suir i play without that mod is going to be a radically different suir

you'll notice her intelligence is like, pretty high! it's said in the game she ends up being one of the best tinkers in qud and just convinces herself she's only good for being a blodshedding hedonist. my suir build strats were pick every physical mutation i could get, get extra limbs, the usual chimera stuff. i used swords as my main for the DV bonus and lunge action economy stacking, and axes in all the other offhands for dismemberment procs

it uses the marshtaur sprite, although i'd wish in a tattoo gun and recolor her in all white and gray. if i ever played her again i'd probably modify the sprite to make her look more like herself

here's tiyu-yutep's last build. psychometry isn't actually Very Worthwhile, but it was thematic and i'm the kind of idiot that will make a build for theme rather than efficiency. this is, in fact, a pretty BAD build, which I think is on its own level thematically important. the daughters of nafpor aren't all supertwinked hyperspecced characters, some of them just Played Good

normally i'd replace her sprite with a cat cherub sprite, but at this point next time i ever end up playing her i'd just make my own sprite for her

in actual gameplay i'd use precog and nectar to reroll mutations so i have a bespoke list of mental mutations stacked up as high as i can, and complement them with a ton of tinkered nonsense. tiyu-yutep's build is about maximizing options in every situation. something bad is happening? that's fine, i have 12 kinds of grenade, 10 mental mutations, and eight guns to solve it.

that's one of my igwashim builds, unlike tiyu and suir being kinda jack-of-all-trades (my preferred style ngl) ig is very much a "scry, teleport in, blast everything to sleep, axe axe axe axe axe axe axe" build

mutation points aren't spent on new mutations at all, and exist just to fill out the efficiency of her existing mutations. i use a mod to make teleport more accurate at very high levels, because teleportation is my nonsexual fetish and i crave being able to pinpoint teleport after i hit level 10

still she isn't just a bump-attack character. maximize information gathering and ambush tactics, never play fair. appearance change wish to turn her tile into a crypt ferret's, naturally, although now that i've started fumping about with modding, i'd just like. actually make a clade so instead of it saying "Mutated Human" it'd say "Mutated Ferret" or something. make it so dromads don't call me human they call me "ferret" or something

her having Socially Repugnant would be appropriate narratively but i never bothered with it since she didn't need it, 10 ego is enough to represent her being a talking animal

i don't have any specific build saved for Savithvyr, she was one of my first Qud characters and was just a Fuming God-Child specced around agility, willpower, and intelligence, mostly using gas grenades of various kinds alongside the billowing conch. also not an optimal build! but it was fun. flood the zone with gas and just sorta stand back and pick at the survivors with a gun or stab them with triple-element gaslight kris

there's a mod that lets you play goatfolk which i used for naara, but in version updates i don't have it installed right now and i'll be honest i don't remember what i did with her much other than mental mutations

ooo-ho-OOO-EEE-ah and Buwofu-gawufoo were actually companions that Savithvyr and Suir picked up in-game, they were never characters i played directly but as companions they lasted so long they felt like they were part of those characters' identities and so they had to make the transition into the game proper.

the brambled fae's original build is NO LONGER POSSIBLE because they increased the cost of horns, which i think is HILARIOUS because why shouldn't it be an actual illegal build?

not that it hasn't had a dozen different builds ANYway. it's my go-to most-used build and based off of one of my fursonas at its core, so it's the culmination of my bullshit jack-of-all-trades obsession.

MILD SPOILERS but ive posted it before on this blog anyway, it DOES have its own sprite since i still play variations on it regularly enough i made a sprite for it

although that doesn't really represent what it looks like in the story

that's getting a BIT closer to what it looks like when we finally get to the brambled pass

[cheesy-che]

this might be a bit of a weird first question, so i hope it makes sense! 6-6 is there an animal you associate with your OC(s)? if so, why? and, would it be the same animal that might represent their 'avatar' if they were an acolyte for the ninja tribunal (like, do you think the animal you associate with them would also mirror them spiritually?)? given that dragons can be avatars, it doesn't have to be an "existing" animal; it could be extinct, of folklore, or maybe something native to their planet, if your oc isn't from 3rd earth.

What an interesting question omggg. Thank you fors asking UwU. I think my answers below would indeed apply to being their 'avatar' in the Ninja Tribunal, too! 🔵Mizuiro: Firefly Fireflies —which are technically a type of nocturnal beetle!— often go unnoticed until nighttime. But, as soon as the tail of their abdomen begins to glow, the little bugs (also called lightning bugs) transform into seemingly-magical creatures that create specks of light in the dark evening air [...] “Small and alone, showing us that we are each worthy, that every person shines their own unique light, and in our own world, be represented in the global struggle for illumination. Light over dark. Positive over negative. However tiny you are, your light still illuminates the darkness.” Source

One of the happiest memories Mizuiro still holds onto is watching fireflies with her mom during her childhood. She loves insects, and I think the firefly's individuality represents her well. I see Mizuiro as someone who seems incredibly bland during her teenage years, before she's comfortable enough to dress in funky clothing and express her creativity publicly. She feels more comfortable being outside at night, when her environment is calm and non-overwhelming. Here are other characteristics usually associated with the firefly that I see in Mizuiro> Hope, Creativity, Mindfulness, Persistence, Self-awareness, Resourcefulness.

Because the glow of this insect is fleeting, they also represent the impermanence of life and the need to cherish fleeting moments. Which I find kind of poetic considering it takes time for Mizuiro to get out of her depressive mindsets in general. Fireflies often are depicted in movies or literature as guides for others or representing self-discovery. Lastly, fireflies emits a light on their own cadence until they want to mate, which makes them synchronize their flashing with another one. Because Mizuiro is very much someone who's a hopeless romantic, I find this characteristing very suitable.

~ 🔴Emy: Mountain Lion/Cougar The cougar is a mostly solitary animal. Only mothers and kittens live in groups, with adults meeting rarely. While generally loners, cougars will reciprocally share kills and seem to organize themselves into small communities defined by the territories of dominant males. Source

Emy is someone that I associate with the following traits, and I think that cougars are often associated with these as well > Pride, Adaptability, Protection, Power, Empowerment, Independant.

The cougars have a solitary nature and are self-sufficient. It's often said that they have "the courage to stand alone" and that they demonstrates strategic tactics while hunting. Emy is someone who prides herself in her tactictal thinking and who asserts authority. She commands respect and constantly demonstrates how her way of doing things can be valued. She is extremely protective of her friends and will make sure to include her close ones in her assertance.

After the cougar is done feeding on prey, it will bury the carcass with leaves or debris to save it for another day. I find this characteristic extremely interesting for Emy because she always plans ahead. Because of the way that cougars hunt (planning ambushes, lurking, etc) I see a similarity in the way that Emy will treat someone who was mean to herself or her friends. Oops. All of this considered, there is also the fact that cougars show leadership and decisiveness among others. Plus, they constantly prove that patience is the way to go, which is something that Emy needs to work on constantly because of her "fiery" nature.

~

I love the way that you show interest in my OCs... thank you so much for sending OC asks ;_; <3

[just1gnome]

I will take any excuse I can get to talk about my sweet boy Nerith :3c

Usually when I play rpgs like dragon age for the first time, my first character is pretty bland- a nice young man for me to get the best ending with- but something about the city elf bg rewired my brain in a very good way

I think a mix of the wide eyed stare of the warden, the "like dogs, shianni" line, and my habits stated above all came together in a nice boy soup with Nerith Tabris. He tends to be very diplomatic, solving his problems by appealing to whoever he's talking to in order to avoid conflict as a sort of survival tactic he's developed over the years, but at the same time he's the kind of guy to start swinging and not stop until he's physically dragged away.

There's an encounter in denerim where you get ambushed and separated from your party and not for one second did he think "oh no I need my guys for this I'm super outnumbered" he just saw red I love that guy

And he's also got a very flowery side too!! Him and Leliana get on super well because of their shared appreciation for beauty in the world!!! His diplomacy started as a survival thing but it developed alongside a genuine interest in art and literature!!!! It's very important to me!!!!!!!

In my first run through he romanced zevran but then I got my hands on mods so he ended up w alistair and leliana as well and theyre all very sweet! Because of his background in the alienage he felt a sense of familiarity being around other elves so he wanted to get to know zevran better obviously, and then they both stumbled around in the dark enough to fall for each other, while alistair was more of a "you're the biggest buffoon I've ever met I can't not kiss you" thing, and leliana was a slow subtle thing like a flower in bloom yeah yeah yeah

ougg he did not take the alistair break up very well man I think about it all the time. Like cause he'd never really been in anything like what he had with them before so he didn't know exactly what to do with himself. He kept saying "we're still friends right? we can still be friends?" but he's the one who started calling alistair by his titles instead of his name- he reverted back to his professional front that he uses with everyone else so he could ignore how he actually felt because he just couldn't make sense of it all

Also there was the whole "lost my only community once so if I'm building a new one I'm going to lose it if they disappear too" thing which. everyone goes off to do their own thing at the end of origins BUT he got it BACK in awakening so he was fine

AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON HIM AND ANDERS I.

It's 2am idk if any of this was good or coherent but um. I care him big. My sweet cheese. My rotten soldier

What got you into dragon age? Tell me about your Hero of Fereldon. I want to hear about your grey warden. I know they all have "set backstories", but I personally like to add small details and add a little spice.

Tell me about their personality. Who did you romance? Or did you make like an OC to be perfect for them? Is there drama? Tell me the drama, I want to hear it. Nobody I know plays Dragon Age, and nobody wants to hear my rants.

Personally, I always play a Dalish elf. Because I'm native, it just kinda feels right for me. Like I can relate to the elves a lot. Even like, the city elves are essentially just put on reservations. I want to try a Dwarven playthrough, but it's really really hard for me to stray from routine. I've been a Dalish rogue main since I was 7, and Dragon age was the first game I was allowed to pick from the family video myself.

I know I usually post bg3 stuff, but the realms of Thedas are and always will be my first love, I can't break from my roots.

[zoruui]

Super old TFP mutuals who were around for my RP days and may vaguely remember my Vehicon/Eradicon OC Nightraid, CAN I GET A (ominous gregorian chanting)

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Condensed and revised bio under the cut!

Designation: Nightraid “IFLR-041” Allegiance: Decepticons Rank: Officer, Commander of the Eradicon/Vehicon Union Alt mode: Cybertronian stealth spacecraft Armament: heated claws, sniper blaster, hacking cable/tentacle, cloaking technology Gender, pronouns: mech, he/him Age: ??? Height: 31’4”

Personality:

In his younger years, Nightraid was infamously the most cold and unforgiving of his category of drone. Despite his impressive success rate, his strategies were risky, violent, and unorthodox. Those who were put under his command before the Great War had to “break into” his style of tactics. However, his temperament has noticeably mellowed through the years despite everything. The events that lead to the loss of his brothers on Cybertron had ingrained in him deep scars of trauma and survivor’s guilt.

Though still stern in asserting his authority, he exhibits a great deal of patience for someone of his position and upholds a certain code of honor. Some would be inclined to sneer and say that he’s “grown soft” in his old age. He’s learned to face ill-treatment that comes with being a drone with calculated grace, wisdom, and punishment where and when it’s due. The other drones hold much respect and admiration for him and trust in his reliability and composure (but they find his sense of humor a bit dry when it comes to jokes). He puts the needs of his troops before his own and rarely allows himself the time to rest and recharge. Even though he’s valued as a paternal figure, he fears attachments and is constantly reminded that his kind were made to be hurt.

History: 

Long before the Great War began on Cybertron, a drone project was funded to manufacture footsoldiers and agents to protect the cities. These drones were divided into three categories: Wreckers (WRKR), Infiltrators (IFLR), and Standards (STDR). The successful first generation prototypes of these drones were outfitted with some of the most advanced technology of their time- with later versions having been made more cheaply due to limited resources. Infiltrators were the rarest of the categories, with only 150 achieving clearance to operate, as they were equipped with highly advanced tools and endured rigorous training. It was rumored that the project was largely funded by high class investors who later aligned strongly with Megatronus’ political campaign. In preparation for war, Megatron was able to control these drones with access to their pre-installed protocols, turning them against those who would become known as Autobots and destroying the very cities they were made to protect.

Nightraid is the last surviving drone from his generation. Having been suspicious of these chips after an accident that compromised his, he attempted to override them at a main console. But he was a moment too late. He was ambushed before he could follow through with the last steps. The following events are blurry in his memory. When the dust finally settled, he was the only one of his kind left - mangled and with wounds that still ail him to this day. His schematics were reverse engineered to later mass produce the standard drones seen today- essentially being the “father” of all modern Vehicons and Eradicons.

During the events of Transformers Prime, he was charged with maintaining the well-being of their numbers and supervising general maintenance aboard the warship. He was also used to treat the infighting between Vehicons and Insecticons, establishing his authority after a territorial dispute with Hardshell. Despite being an officer himself, Nightraid is rarely respected as such among those of the same rank and now rarely sees the field. However, he is occasionally deployed with Soundwave for intelligence missions. He somewhat pities the humans, but that does not stop him from carrying out his duties against them.

[skye-huntress]

RWBY: Arrowfell Reaction

I have not only played Arrowfell, I have completed the story, collected all the Skills Points, and earned another Platinum trophy for my collection. I just checked and it’s actually my 60th, not like I planned for it or anything.

Lets start with that then, the trophies, achievements or whatever they’re called are all fairly straightforward and easy to collect. The only missable trophy requires you to hold on to 10 Skill Points at once, which I’m glad I spotted beforehand so I could get it out of the way as soon as possible.

Grimm Eclipse was designed as a co-op game, and I no longer have people to play with. I might not be used to 2D platformers, but Arrowfell is more my kind of game. I get switch between all the girls at once, and there’s a lot more story content.

I was still a little clumsy when it came to switching characters, so sometimes I switch too slow or to the wrong character which was especially problematic during ambushes and boss fights.

Ruby naturally had the long reach with her melee and her semblance really helped to get behind enemies and avoid attacks, which makes her ideal for hit-and-run tactics. Weiss was the one I found especially useful. Ranged attacks use up energy which also serves as the team’s collective “shield”, but with her semblance, Weiss can attack at range in multiple directions at once without using energy. Blake’s clones can block projectiles and can attack enemies even after switching to other teammates, so you can attack at a safe distance, or double or triple the number of times you attack at once. Yang is the one I ended up using the least though. She has the smallest attack range which means too often I end up getting too close to enemies. That said, when I want to get the drop on enemies from above, her Semblance is handy for that.

So my recommendation for early skill allocations would be, to boost Weiss’ range damage (which includes her Semblance), Ruby and Blake’s melee attacks, and for Yang, defence might be a good idea. Also, whichever character you end up favouring the most, put a few points in the energy recharge.

As for exploration, you have a map of Solitas where you can explore locations as many times as you want. It’s something I’ve been wondering about, but there must be other locations and settlements around Solitas, supposedly. We never got to see much of the rest of the continent outside the major cities, besides that one mine. Makes me wonder what happened to those towns after Volume 8.

Some locations branch out a bit, where you can explore to find more hidden Skills Points or other items, and each Semblance is used to explore. Ruby can dash across gaps, Weiss’ glyphs can me temporary platforms to reach higher, Blake can use her clones for pressure pads, and Yang… smash.

Although I quickly found the some areas can’t be reached right away and I needed to return after one of the girls improved their Semblance. As an example, after helping Harriet, she taught Ruby how to dash further, which makes a lot of sense in canon, since we know RWBY and JNR were also training with and learning from the Ace Ops and Winter.

I was so thorough in my exploration, that I kept bumping into one particular person a lot, Penny! Her part in the story doesn’t come until later but you can still find her in a certain location in the first four chapters and talk to her.

Speaking of familiar faces, we had Pietro, Maria, Ironwood, the Ace Ops, Qrow and Winter, but we never saw Team JNR or Oscar. I suppose with everyone else working on the current crisis, they were stuck with the more mundane takes.

Seeing Team BRIR take down the Megoliath was pretty impressive, though it did feel a bit like when the Ace Ops took down that Geist. You know, like they were showing off. To be fair, Team RWBY weakened it (after I got my ass kicked multiple times, the only boss fight I really struggled with).

There was something that bothered me, after they were chased off as quickly as they appeared, we’re told they are paid mercenaries that have been extorting towns around Solitas, but it wasn’t shown in their actions. That kind of tipped me off that I should take that information with a grain of salt.

Likewise, the fact that Bram Thormane wanted to take the “Mysterious Orb” off ours hands instead of letting us personally deliver it to Ironwood put him on my suspect list. Not just him, but also the person he told Team RWBY to meet.

You know, I was more than happy to mock the Ace Ops when Elm mentioned that a group like Team BRIR would definitely be on their radar. Now that I have the full context, I’ll forgive them for their ignorance, especially since we were given misleading information about BRIR. In retrospect, that should have been another hint, of course if there were a group of mercenaries running around shaking towns for money that even the Atlas Military would have heard about them.

I find it funny that Ruby was ready to point that finger at Jacques for arming criminals. I actually agree with Weiss, the man may be unscrupulous but he’s not the type to spend his money to arm someone else.

Also, nice little tidbit about Weiss needing to get the materials for Myrtenaster herself. I’m not surprised, Jacques never wanted her to become a Huntress, especially after Winter ran off to join the military.

So first mention of “Arrowfell” in the game, and the person who is already on the suspect list is quick to downplay the possibility it is connected.

As it goes, Arrowfell is a military facility developing military tech that according to Ironwood was shut down and sealed off years ago. And immediately, I could not help but think about Ironwood track record of keeping places secure or making sure his military tech isn’t stolen. I would never take Ironwood’s word when he says a place is unaccessible.

Amoncio Glass was something of a treat. Liked to talk big but a bit of a coward. He said something about how even the Ace Ops know not to mess with him. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I enjoy taking the piss out of the Ace Ops every chance I get, but in this case, I have to say it’s more likely that they consider dealing with Amoncio as beneath their pay grade.

Amoncio: dOn’T yOu KnOw WhO i Am?!

Ruby: Nope! 😁

That little cutscene before the fight might be my favourite.

I cannot believe Qrow stole Winter’s Saber*. I see sobriety didn’t make him any less of an asshole. *Side note, we still don’t have a name for it, do we?

The Faunus in Mantle, Mikado, is adorable.

One thing I liked in particular about talking with Winter is Weiss finally calling her sister out. Don’t just criticise her, give her actionable feedback so she can actually improve. When Weiss said it, I was like “YAS, Ice Queen!”

Don’t you just hate it when you beat the bad guy and in their defeat they decide to spite you by setting off whatever doomsday plan they had in place. Usually it’s something like blowing up their hideout so you have to escape, though that was fortunately not the case this time.

Did Ruby just accuse Weiss of being at fault for the cookie shortage? More surprising was Weiss saying “Cookies are more your thing! I sure didn’t eat them all!” Weiss didn’t deny eating any cookies, that last line implies that she definitely has eaten some!

There’s something about train levels that makes them so satisfying to play. Also, we finally got to see that footage from one of the earlier trailers and I could finally confirm what I suspected, that there was a rogue faction within the Altas military. Not surprising, Ironwood’s leadership left much to be desired.

So it seems like the whole Arrowfell mess for once is not Ironwood’s fault. Seems his predecessor dropped the ball and didn’t pass on information that their successor should have known, like the identities of the Keepers of Arrowfell. I guess the Atlas Military suffered with incompetent leadership long before Ironwood took charge.

And now we finally get to learn what Penny was doing the whole time and what those weird doors were about. Also love to see more of her even in this format.

The banter between Weiss and Penny was… particularly interesting. I suppose we never did see how they would normally interact before things got a bit serious. I felt like some of Weiss’ comments could be toned down a bit, though I don’t think she meant any real harm or disrespect. Penny can be a bit of dolt at times.

And now we’re friends with Team BRIR. After this incident I wonder what they went on to do. I’m sure even Ironwood knew better to just destroy what was inside Arrowfell so it would no longer need Keepers. If I had to guess, either BRIR went to help out with the other settlements, or they would have been among the Huntsmen that were protecting Mantle offscreen during the invasions and evacuations. Maybe they’ll show up in the main show, probably in the background chatting with Team SAFR and Shion Zaiden.

So Bram Thornmane’s motive was because he was passed over for a spot in the Ace Ops. How many villains are just people that Jimmy has personally pissed off? He also had a hero complex, something he actually shares with the man he despises so much.

And the reason he was passed over for the position? “I’m afriad there’s no fit for your Semblance.” I mean, wow. That actually confirms something I only suspected about how Ironwood picks the Ace Ops. He picks members based on whether they have complementary Semblances, not based on merit and more importantly, how they complement the team as individuals. On the one hand, I get the importance of having a diversity of skills for any situation, but perhaps Ironwood may have prioritised the wrong criteria.

After all that, I do have to say, Bram may have had a point. His methods were unforgivable, no argument there, but I don’t think he’s necessarily wrong about Ironwood. I’ve been saying it is a wonder Ironwood wasn’t forced to step down after his disastrous and embarrassing failure at the Vytal Festival. That is to say nothing of his actions since the Fall of Beacon. It is the most believable thing in the world that there was another conspiracy to have Ironwood removed from his position.

I think that’s it. A nice little game I enjoyed playing, and at the end of the day that’s all that matters.

[fedonciadale]

Reading Fire & Blood you can see that Dorne not being conquered by the Targs doesn't make sense with all the new information. The guerrilla warfare on a medieval setting doesn't work. You need a great force to ambush armies of thousands of men. And that is negated when the Targs have their dragons to scout. But conveniently Aegon doesn't seem to use his dragons like that. And tge way it ends the First Dornish War with that letter and Aegon all sudden let there be peace... It seems George needed an excuse because he wrote himself again in a corner.

(2) You can say that Aenys and Maegor had other concerns than Dorne. But that Jaehaerys and all his dragón riders didn't try is another war seems rather forced. Specially when the Prince of Dorne makes a casus belli trying to invade the Stormlands with a fleet and the text says Jaehaerys had spies in Dorne. An unlike Aegon this guy knows to use his lizards as scouts as seem with the Vulture king. He wrote in the beginning that Dorne was unconquered. But when he later starts adding new material this clashes with his foundations. I still remember Doran saying that Dorne was the least populated kingdom. I was "you're kidding! Least than the Iron Islands?" Let's not talk about Dorne's armies abilities to enter the Reach and Stormlands unnoticed.

Hi there!

I agree that there are some inconsistencies, but I wouldn't say that this is not entirely believable.

I think you have a rather clear historical parallel in the history of England and Wales. England as the larger and richer kingdom always had the ability to conquer Wales (just like the Iron Throne with dragons always had the tactical advantage over the Dornish). Another historical parallel are the Franks and the Saxons. The possibility was always there but the question always was: Is it worth the effort?

The Saxons and the Welsh were peoples who practiced guerilla warfare and the stronger military nation always can subdue them - as long as they are willing to fight a long bloody war and invest an absurd amount of money to build castles or strongholds etc.

The English kings were busy on the continent and/or with internal strife, and John was the first who made a real effort to conquer Wales (because he needed success) and Wales only very narrowly escaped because of the Barons' wars that led to Magna Charta. Later in the 13th century Edward I took money in his hands and sry, not sry, as much as I feel for the Welsh (having spent a year of my life there), they never stood a chance.

Two campaigns and about 200 new castles later, the Welsh were conquered.

Sort of the same happened with the Saxons. The Saxons always had been a bit of a nuisance to the Franks but the moment Charlemagne decided that he would end this once and for all he managed - even though it took him 30 years - and he never made a profit from it.

So, I'm not saying that the people with better military and more money is always successful but the odds are definitely in their favour. But they have to mean it, so to say. The English kings from William the Conqueror to John never meant it: William the Conqueror made a halfhearted attempt to conquer Wales but gave up when he realized that they were not worth the immense trouble that would be necessary to conquer them. And when Edward I finally succeeded the Welsh Conquest was a hole that ate up a vast amount of English tax money (and people grumbled if it was worth it).

So, if you take this parallel it sort of makes sense that Aegon the Conqueror tried and gave up when his campaign was not immediately successful. Like William the Conqueror he had a reputation to lose. Better back down than get a stain on his rep as an invincible warrior.

Likewise with Jaeherys. He probably could have conquered Dorne but he had other problems as well and he probably decided that it was not worth the effort.

The Young Dragon tried a sweeping campaign for his glory and failed.

In that regard Daeron II was smart when he unified Dorne with the rest of Westeros via marriage - he was not smart in other regards, but that was a politic that would save him vast resources. And at that time the Targs didn't have dragons any longer.

So, I agree that GRRM could have elaborated further (explain why the riches of Dorne are useless for the other kingdoms for example), but I don't think that the situation as such - a more powerful kingdom with a military advantage on the one hand and a smaller realm that remains independent for a long time even for centuries is entirely unbelievable.

It's not a 100% parallel of course, because Wales is also represented in the Vale and the Mountain clans, but I think the general rule that a difficult conquest - even if you have an advantage - is something that simply might not be worth it. I hope I makes sense.

Thanks for the ask!

[maxwell--lord]

Hand Grenades and Helipads

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Rating: E (Explicit)

Warnings: language, violence, blood, talks of death, smut, sexual tension, jealousy, weapons, warfare

Summary: You are part of a special operations team, deployed to South Africa, patrolling near diamond Mines to ensure the safety of the locals- you work for a military contracting company. During a normal patrol, something goes terribly wrong and you are injured, Pope, Will, and Benny bring you to safety, while Frankie blames himself...

A/N: This will be coming in parts, probably pretty slowly. I hope you enjoy it, any and ALL feedback is appreciated 💕

Casings land all around you, the distant sound of gunfire and yelling whirl through your ears, your vision is blurry and your breaths are heavy and short, the pain flushes through you as the ringing in your ears becomes less and you hear someone calling your name close by. “Y/N! Y/N. God damn it, answer me!” he growls out and you feel a heavy shove against your chest, a shadowy figure looms above you, before kneeling down directly over you, “She’s lost a lot of blood, the wound isn’t fatal but the infection will be if we can’t get this bullet out and this wound cleaned up” he speaks into his coms, you recognize the voice, Benny. Your eyes flutter and roll back into your head as you mutter “Benny” before coughing up some blood, and coming to enough to hear Benny respond “Shh. It’s going to be alright, you’re going to be okay. We were ambushed…” his words fading away as your breathing becomes erratic and your eyes fall away. “SHIT!!” he exclaims and begins shouting into his coms for the team to get here faster.

Pope and Will come rushing into the south quadrant of the hot, arid, damp, pavilion that your team had been assigned to for routine patrol. Pope hits the ground quickly, skidding towards Benny as he slings his M16 over his shoulder, swiftly moving his arms under your head and shoulders to pull you up to a sitting position. Will has his hands on the coms, breathing heavily as he yells into it at Frankie- “You need to get here, Fish, NOW. Y/N is down, unconscious…” Benny cuts off Will “It’s not as bad as it sounds, Fish, she will be okay. You need to get here, FOCUSED. We will meet you at the extraction point, two clicks east. You know the spot. Be ready. We need to move fast”. Frankie grunts into the coms “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have let her go today… I fucking knew something wasn’t right this morning” he spits. “Fish, get your shit together, this isn’t your fault. Get that bird in the air and get here NOW”, Pope declares as he turns to Will to motion him over before him and Benny lifts your body and begins to carry you out of the building. “Make sure you grab her rucksack and her pistol, we don’t want to hear from Tom about this” Pope scoffs as Will grabs your pistol, vest, and ruckack. Your M16 dangles below your body and Will grabs it to position it on top of your chest, while you are carried. You’re in and out of consciousness as they travel to the rendezvous.

You can hear the Apache’s blades ripping through the rigid, hot, air and can hear the men yelling to each other before you feel the cold floorboard under you and you’re able to open your eyes enough to see Frankie looking angrily at Benny with his finger pointed, their words lost in the sound of the helicopters blades spinning rapidly. You manage to move your left arm up towards Frankie’s leg and barely clasped your hand around his ankle, encased in the boot, this causes him to stop whatever he was saying to Benny and he looks down at you, adjusting his hat. He moves his leg back from you and kneels down as Pope and Will shut the choppers doors, running his finger along your cheek and looking at you with concern in his eyes, and you nod your head to him, assuring him you will be alright. He stands up and glares at Benny before disappearing to the cockpit to lift the Apache into the sky and take you back to base. Benny leans down and places the tactical headset on your ears so they can communicate with you and so you don’t go deaf from the obnoxious droning of the helicopter. You’re looking around at the team, glossy eyes, wondering what happened and what Frankie had said to Benny that’s left him looking like he is guilty. You push the mic closer to your mouth “Pope?” you manage to say before the pain flushes down your body and you groan in agony, Benny jumping up to pull you into his arms and give you as much comfort as he can. “What happened?” you grunt out. Pope shakes his head “There… There was a child…” his eyes drop and he winces as he takes a deep breath “you hesitated, he shot you. Benny was focused on another assailant who had an assult rifle in his hand, followed by a man with a belt of grenades, and a light machine gun” Benny cuts off Pope “You've been shot because I was not focused enough on our surroundings and I-“ “You’re goddamn right you fucked up! You were not close enough to each other to protect one another and now Y/N’s been shot, Benny!” Frankie growls angrily, you can sense the tension and blood boiling in his veins. “I know I fucked up, Fish, but it was not a situation we could have scraped out of. Those men had assault rifles on them and they were rushing towards us.” You glance over at Will, his hands on his temple and he’s looking at you “You have to shoot, I know how hard it is to take out a child, but your life is more important” he pinches his nose “I’m not angry, I was scared and I still am. You’re lucky that it only hit you in the shoulder and didn’t puncture your lung. We were ambushed, there was nothing we could have done other than stay close but there were too many and we would have been like sardines in a can if we stuck together, and we don’t know what kind of weapons they had or how many more there were''. Frankie eases the helicopter onto the helipad and Pope is requesting medical to the helicopter, exclaiming that you have suffered a significant injury. The doors of the helicopter rip open and Will and Frankie are pulling you towards the edge, where the nurses are on standby with a stretcher prepared for you. Frankie grabs your hand, rubbing his thumb across your hand and looks at you, “you’re going to be okay, I can’t go with you but we will come see you tonight, as soon as we are allowed to”, you grip his hand tighter, looking into his eyes, and you can see how serious he is. He releases your hand and medical rushes you to their facility.

Frankie turns, seething, staring at Benny and clenches his fists and walks towards him, Benny’s back is turned talking to Will and Will sees him coming, he swiftly moves behind Benny and stops Frankie in his tracks, and Pope grips Frankie’s shoulders, Benny turning around to face Frankie over Will’s shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing, Fish?!” Will exclaims and slaps him in the chest “You gotta get your shit together man, this isn’t Benny’s fault. We were one man down on this assignment. Benny did what he could. He even killed the-“ his breath hitches and he stumbles on the word “k-kid”. Frankie glaring at Benny, unclenches his fists and pries Pope’s hands off of his shoulders before inhaling sharply and snapping “you’re right, Will, this isn’t Benny’s fault. I should be angry at Tom who never fucking showed up today” as he releases his gaze from Benny “I’m sorry, Benny. You were meant to protect each other and she got hurt, I blamed you but I shouldn’t have…I knew something was wrong in the air this morning. Something about those details didn’t feel right” He gruffs, clenching his fists together again. Will pats his chest “Fish, it’s gonna be alright. She doesn’t need serious surgery or anything. They’ll get the slug out and stitch her up, she’ll be light duty for a while but it’s going to be alright, man”, Frankie nods. “I’m going to go get cleaned up” Benny says, looking down at your blood all over him “Go see her, Fish. We can all meet for dinner later”. Pope grips Frankie’s arm “Let’s go see her, hermano”. 

You’re sat up in a chair in one of the makeshift hospital rooms, blanket draped around you, so you aren’t topless, as the nurses finish your stitches, when you catch a familiar voice and you shout “I’m in here, three rooms down”. Pope emerges around the corner first, smiling followed by Frankie hot on his tail. His eyes scan you with concern and you move your left hand to face the palm up reaching for his hand “I’m okay, I’ll be on some strong antibiotics for 7 days and a light duty order for a month…” you sigh, as Frankie places his hand in yours and steps closer to you, grabbing the chair and pulling it up next to yours, before sitting in it, his eyes never move away from yours. Pope rounds the right side of the bed, as the nurses walk out of the room, he leans down and places a gentle kiss against your forehead, and sits on the stool the nurse was using. “You scared us, hermana, but none of us could show it..” he smirked looking at Frankie “except Fish, he couldn’t control his emotions”, Frankie jerks his eyes from yours and looks at Pope “fuck you, Pope” he smirks as he says it, his smirk turning into a smile before looking down and adjusting his hat. Pope grabs your right hand gently and gives it a soft squeeze before leaning down and kissing it “I’m going to go get showered and cleaned up, get the truck ready. Benny has us meeting for dinner tonight at 8. You’ll be out of here soon and can clean up. I’ll see you two there” before he can leave you squeeze his hand “Thank you, Santiago” offering him a smile, letting go of his hand and watching him leave.

Frankie places his lips gently on your cheek as he holds your hand and hums against your skin “I was afraid, afraid of what could have happened. My heart was racing, my blood was boiling….” He’s cut off by the nurse walking in, he jerks his lips away from your cheek and clears his throat. The nurse glances at the two of you before speaking “Y/N, these are your papers, light duty for a minimum of 30 days, antibiotics twice a day for 7 days. These WILL affect your birth control, they will make them” she clears her throat “less effective”. Frankie laughs awkwardly and says “There’s nothing going on here, we don’t need to worry about birth control failing” and she looks back at him with judgement in her eyes before handing you the discharge papers and leaving the room. You look at Frankie “can you help me get my shirt back on? My right shoulder is in incredible pain” He nods, letting go of your hand and picking up a blood stained, white tee-shirt from the roller cart behind your chair and he places your right arm into the shirt, pulling it up and then over your head, and you push your left arm through the other sleeve, standing up and letting the blanket fall to the floor, your chest with dried blood on it and your bra stained and ruined, Frankie can’t take his eyes off of the dried blood that is on your breasts and he sighs deeply and shakes his head “they could have at least cleaned you up better, hermosa”, you bite your lower lip gently, noticing where he was looking and quickly pull your shirt down over your breasts and stomach. “Are you ready?” he asks, reaching out his hand towards yours, “Yes, let’s get home”, home is your shared house with Benny, Will, Pope, and Frankie. You place your hand in his, stand up and start walking out of the facility.

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@asta-lily @starlightmornings @greeneyedblondie44

[aquilaofarkham]

title: mishpachah rating: T+ word count: 3,085 summary: Five years after rebuilding the manor—and the birth of a new Belmont into the world—Trevor decides to share an old recipe with his newfound family.

For @fibulaa 💛  Thanks so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

The first bread Trevor Belmont ate while living his newly orphaned vagabond life was so dry it cut at the inner walls of his throat. He swallowed each bite with grimace after grimace, knowing that despite the pain, the already hardened child of thirteen could stave off starvation for a little while longer. Until he tasted the faintest tinge of copper on his ruined tongue.

Putting those years far behind, he now stands in front of a wooden counter, blurry eyed and with a yawn reminiscent of a sun drunk cat. It seems clean at first glance but in every corner Trevor notices fragments of past meals which he tried wiping away once they were finished and placed on a more pristine table meant for family. Bits of salt, half minced vegetables, and crumbs of bread much softer than the ones belonging to a later childhood he would rather forget. This kitchen, warm in its early morning sunlight, was the final instalment of the manor, newly risen from the ashes. Or rather, simply rebuilt thanks to the calloused, blistered, and splintered hands. No more ruined stone, no more fire blackened beams holding together little less than an architectural skeleton. The somewhat mirror image of Trevor’s lost home has been faring better than the castle. Too many memories, fresh, ranging from bitter to incomprehensible.

Slowly, he grows conscious of his surroundings and his own self. A continuing habit of being the first to wake not just in this manor hold but in life. Reluctantly opening his eyes prior to dawn covering the landscape while still traveling alone only to drag a pair of worn boots back along a similar muddy road. Trevor never wanted to wake up before the sun. He just couldn’t bear to stay in the same place for much longer whether due to the laundry list of dangers or more often than not, his newfound hatred of whichever backwater hamlet he unfortunately found himself in.

He’s happy to wake up early. Happy to never feel a need to leave or escape, happy to know that lack of food replaced with pints of liquid pleasure mixed with death will never plague him again. Happy to prepare breakfast in a hot iron pot over a well stoked fire. What he thought he lost forever has come back, along with new additions to the family he’s carved out.

Another presence bounds her way into the kitchen and ambushes Trevor from behind. He’s not old—not yet, he’ll give it time—but years of drinking have made their permanent stay, dulling the more acute senses. Makes it easier for a five-year-old to catch him off guard. Trevor’s eyes bolt open as tiny arms hold him in a tight cage.

“Good morning, papa!”

His ears ring at the sound of Mirele’s loud voice, but at least he won’t have to worry about nodding off. He stares down at the youngest Belmont who looks as though someone had split Trevor and Sypha straight down their centres into four pieces and sewed each differing half onto the other in order to create a new person. A homunculi of messy dark chocolate hair, bright eyes shining with blue ice, full rosy cheeks somehow conspicuously smeared with some sort of dirt or jam, and enough energy to wear out an electric powered jackrabbit. 

“How’s my little monster doing this morning?” Everything Trevor says is laced with his own personal touch of affection and Mirele loves it.

“Mama and papa are still asleep. Help me wake them up! Pleaseeee?”

This doesn’t surprise him; Sypha has always preferred to savour her last moments of sleep longer than normal and Alucard is… well, Alucard.

“Tell you what.” Trevor places a lid onto the simmering pot with a heavy clank. “While this heats up for our breakfast, we’ll go wake up those lazy bones.”

“Right!” Hand in smaller hand, the two make their way upstairs into the shadowy master bedchamber. Curtains drawn with only a sliver of light cutting its singular path across the floor and over two distinct lumps covered by blankets and furs. They seem conjoined, linked in each other’s arms, unaware that a third party has been missing for long enough. Mirele plunges into the room first, jumping onto the bed as all children do when parents refuse to join the land of the conscious. She playfully shoves and cuddles her way between the two bodies who sink deeper beneath the covers, lazily moaning like ghosts.

“Mama! Papa! Wake up! It’s time to get up!”

Trevor hopes that his tactic of throwing open the weighted curtains works in a more effective manner. Listening to the rising chorus of wordless protests coming from behind, he’s pleased with the results. “Never thought I would be the one setting a good example for our daughter.”

“Do not get cheeky, especially this early.” Sypha’s response spills out like running water. It’s clear her mind isn’t quite all there yet. But she can scoop Mirele into her arms, find every ticklish spot, and illicit giggles that only canines might hear. “At least we both know how to have fun, right my sweet?”

“Vampires… nocturnal…” A deeper, muffled voice emerges from under one of the pillows.

“Something you’d like to share with us, Alucard?” Trevor quips, amused at how the other father of the household can never seem to shake off his morning dishevelment. Perhaps sleeping in a coffin would help—a very large one so he doesn’t have to be alone. Alucard reluctantly removes the pillow as tangled heaps of gold fall over his face.

“Vampires are supposed to be nocturnal. Would you rather I burst into ashes upon contact with the sun? Think of our girls, Trevor.”

“We’ve all seen you in the sun before, it’s about as dangerous as a clove of garlic.”

“I have my own means of physical protection. Far beyond your measly human comprehension, love.”

“Personally, I’ve been able to comprehend you plenty.”

Mirele stares up at Sypha, her bushy brows furrowed. “What does… comp… sshhheshion mean?”

“It’s just another word your fathers use whenever either of them want to feel smart.” 

Alucard gives Sypha a gentle pinch on either side of her abdomen. “I thought you were on my side.”

“What about my side?” Trevor asks, excelling at the greatest strength he possesses—the ability to never take anything seriously, only when he must.

“I’m hungry,” Mirele speaks up. “Hungry and bored. Can we eat now?”

--

This life is not normal, but then again it is. It always has been for them. Normal once meant coming together because of violence, encroaching darkness, and some flimsy prophecy stringing them along one dead body at a time. A prophecy which never said what had to be done after they followed it to the hard earned letter. Perhaps that’s why Trevor, Sypha, and Alucard floundered afterwards. No instruction on how to live their upturned lives.

Fuck prophecy.

They made this life by their own standards and in accordance with their own desires. They loved how they wanted to love and no prophecy could have foreseen Mirele. How she calls for her father while both Trevor and Alucard turn their heads at the same exact second. How she quickly calms herself when presented with a bowl of warm oatmeal drowning in honey and wild fruits hand plucked from the surrounding forest. But it’s not enough. Nothing ever is for someone always growing, always wanting more from life at such a young age.

“Can I have bread?”

Trevor, half way through his bitter coffee, turns to Sypha then Alucard as all three parental figures exchange glances. They haven’t the heart to tell Mirele. No bread at the ready, only the necessary ingredients and a considerable amount of flour bags to blanket Enisala. There’s the option of making it themselves, yet it depends on a certain someone’s capacity for patience.

“How do you feel about baking our own?” Trevor’s voice wavers, which he tries to mask with his characteristic dry tone. It’s been a long time since he’s made bread. Then again, helping the manor cooks was a somewhat selfish endeavour as it meant extra servings for the baby of the Belmonts. Yet his proposal goes over well with Mirele, whose inherited eyes light up at the prospect of trying something new.

“I wanna make bread! Can we? Can we please?”

“When was the last time you baked anything, Trevor?” Alucard asks, genuinely curious and with a healthy dose of skepticism. “You still won’t tell us much about anything concerning your former life, let alone the sort of foods your family ate.”

Trevor feels a twinge in his gut—still better than a punch. His two lovers, even his daughter, they only know of his mother; a matriarch in her own right. They know her name, the monsters she killed, and not much else. Trevor’s excuses: he doesn’t remember anything about her, despite the fact that he does. He didn’t know her for very long or very well, so there’s no point in missing her. Trevor did know Sonia and he does miss her, sometimes more than he can handle. Then the easiest excuse: it’s just another self-preservation tactic.

Out of this inner reflection comes an idea. It breaks tradition in a way. For the Belmonts and other Jewish families, everything is passed down through the mother—recipes, forms of worship, blood memories, centuries old tactics of bruising one’s knuckles and temples. Trevor doesn’t think this slight deviation from his culture’s norm will make him any less of what he’s always been. Mirele will simply have to pick up where he left off when she’s grown.

He doesn’t want to think about that now. She’s only five after all. One lesson at a time. 

“Alright. Gather round, pupils. The bread we’re making isn’t just any bread. Forget everything you know and everything you’ve been taught because this will be the closest thing to heaven you’ll ever taste.”

“How dramatic…” Sypha mutters under her breath. Alucard joins her amusement with a subdued chuckle. 

“I believe you were partially his influence.”

Trevor knows how much trouble he’ll be in if he puts Mirele through the most agonizing cruelty of waiting a second longer than necessary. Fearful of her pint-sized wrath, he gives everyone the order to start gathering ingredients: flour, eggs, honey, and some indulgent herbs to make this particular bread something special. As much of a strategic leader in the kitchen as he is when the world is coming to an end. With everything spread out on the countertops, Trevor guides his family step by step through the only recipe he remembers. He calls this bread “challah”, which Mirele immediately strains her freshly green vocal chords, trying to pronounce the word exactly as her father does. She quickly gives up and focuses on mixing the ingredients with an intense look—almost to a fault as bits of sloppy dough fly out of the bowl. Good. This enthusiasm is what Trevor wants to see.

Kneaded and allowed time to rise, the next step is the most important. Trevor divides the dough into four halves, then again, and again until each participant has their own handful of raw unbaked strips. 

“We have to braid them?” Mirele asks following his explanation. 

“That’s right. It’s what makes this bread different from all the rest.”

“Just like when papa let’s me braid his pretty hair!”

Every pair of eyes turns to Alucard, whose smile widens in that way which causes his eyes to shut tightly. Fangs happily bared as he pulls Mirele into his flour and dough covered arms while she giggles in delight. After they all return to work, her loaf turns out the same way as the braids she gives to him—lopsided, uneven, lacking a few outsticking stray hairs, but filled with affection and genuine resolve.

Three loaves are placed into the oven, including a fourth crudely constructed but still adequately done piece. Mirele is now more willing to play the waiting game—so she claims. Sitting in front of the oven while staring directly into its insides, utterly fascinated, oblivious to her surroundings. Unaware that her three parents are whispering behind her back. Eventually, Sypha has to gently pull her away with her bottom dragging along the kitchen floor.

“How about you and I do something a little more interesting while your fathers keep watch over things.”

“But what about the c… the calla!”

“Don’t worry, they will look after it. And we are not going far, my sweet.”

“We’ll make sure nothing burns down.” Trevor assures, despite it being Sypha who usually revels in cinders and ashes, intentionally or not.

The two retreat down the corridor past diamond shaped stained windows and into one of the manor’s smaller libraries where the cabinets reach the high ceiling painted in deep blue hues. Scattered from corner to corner are constellations of stars and midnight clouds obscuring each phase of the moon. Once when Alucard found Mirele curiously asleep atop a number of pillows when she should have been in her own bed, it was his decision to paint the library in new colours. Sypha moves aside an entire shelf of thick volumes as though trying to find a carefully hidden switch that will lead them into a secret chamber. It’s what Mirele hopes but turns mildly disappointed when the books do not in fact magically shift to reveal a stone passageway. Her soured anticipation is only countered when Sypha places a box on the desk.

“Can you guess what’s inside?”

“Is it treasure?”

“Close! You are almost right.” Sypha opens the lid just as Pandora did except there are no horrors, no evils to be wrought upon humanity. Mirele peeks inside and her eyes shine with the glistening silver of trinkets, pendants, and talismans. She resists the innate urge to reach her hands, still white with flour, into the box only to briefly experience the sensation of holding one between her fingers. Even children know when something is sacred.

“These belonged to your grandparents. They used them for protection and strength. A long time ago, before you were born, their home burned down and everything was destroyed.”

“Papa’s home?”

Sypha nods, grateful that this story now has its happy ending, slight as it may be. “However, when your other father started building the manor we live in, he found this box trapped amongst all the rubble. It managed to survive.”

“What do they say?”

Mirele points to one pendant molded in the shape of a sword. Inscribed along the curve of its ash-riddled blade are the Hebrew names of angels which must have been muttered by Sonia or Gabriel. The longer Mirele stares, attempting to decipher yet another new language, the brighter her cheeks grow red with frustration. Her mother acts quick just as her eyes begin to water. 

“It’s alright if you don’t understand what any of them say.”

“I can learn! Please, mama? I promise I’ll study really hard!”

Sypha’s lips curl as Mirele continues her begging. Oh the mind of a child. How quickly it changes.

--

The kitchen feels hotter, wafting through the air. Enveloping the room and everything caught between its walls. Trevor stands by the oven, a thick cloth ready in his hand. It shouldn’t take much longer. At least there’s no stench of something burning. Almost makes him pine for the days of his family’s massive stone oven and how he would sneak around at night and pick out leftover morsels from inside like an insatiable mouse. Not unlike the actual beasts which he hunted throughout the hallways before moving onto larger prey typical of a Belmonts’ work—or as large as his own runtish body mass could handle.

Minutes of quiet pass, still eyeing the loaves with a keen gaze. Trevor’s concentration soon broken by the feeling of two arms wrapping around his softening yet still robust midsection. Slow and careful, until his back is pressed against an equally broad chest.

“Can I help you?” He asks as Alucard buries his face into the curvature of his shoulder blades.

“You’re already helping.” The dhampir, unchanging in his physical appearance (a revelation both Trevor and Sypha refuse to acknowledge for the time being), tightens his embrace.

“Something wrong?”

“No… I just enjoy feeling how much softer and warmer you’ve become.”

Trevor’s cheeks blush ever so pinker and not because of the oven’s heat. By now he should be used to Alucard’s sudden bouts of outward affection.

“You even smell better.”

There it is. Trevor thought he would be waiting forever to hear that little jab, though said with nothing but a good heart.

“That might be the herbs you’re smelling.”

Alucard shifts around so that the two of them are side by side, cheek to cheek, as he chuckles in Trevor’s ear. “Come here.”

He doesn’t offer a kiss, not where Trevor was expecting. Instead of his lips, Alucard singles out every patch of stray flour on his face, kissing, wiping, even licking them clean. Cheek, jawline, and nose. Trevor’s expression twists into a ticklish, surprisingly delighted facade. 

“You’re a half vampire, not a cat.”

“Better to clean you now than later.”

“Always so fucking odd…”

“You love it.”

Much to his lucky stars, Trevor manages one curse mere seconds before Sypha and Mirele return. They let their daughter speak at a breakneck speed neither one can fully comprehend—something about silver pieces and whether they can teach her a new language—until one series of questions finally sticks.

“Is the bread ready yet? Can we eat it now? Can we please?”

Trevor placates Mirele by revealing the fruits of their joint hard earned labour: four freshly baked and perfectly shined challah loaves each representative of whoever did the braiding. She bounces in her chair before simmering down to an excited tremble once Trevor warns her of how they need to cool. In order to make this more of a meal, he rummages about in search of two other beacons from his childhood. He’s rewarded with one of the few fresh apples they have left while Sypha, ever in tune with his inner thoughts, grabs another small pot of honey for him.

Trevor thanks her by gently running his palm across her lower abdomen, over the growing bump. He keeps it there for just a second longer, a subtle gesture of love noticed by Sypha. Fingertips intertwined with each other, they join Alucard and Mirele at the table as the midday sun shines golden through the windows.

[princecharmingmendes]

Heart by Heart | Chapter I | Raul Mendes

                                           *secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Helloo, this is the first chapter of this series and I'm super excited about it. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. I plan on posting a chapter weekly, which means new chapter every Thursday (and maybe a sneak peak every monday). Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like it as much as I did. I'll stop rambling now, byee. Happy Reading!

                                                     masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 3.4K+;

*Warnings:  cursing, descriptions of violence, blood, injuries, hostage situation and a whole lot of teasing. Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings. 

*Posted: July 1st, 2021.

                                                     -*-

Raul Mendes was a pain in the ass. Y/N loves him way too much for her own good, but he was a pain in the nonetheless. 

He was the only person she knew who could be in a possible life-or-death situation and still make fun of her through their communicators. And sure, that made the whole thing lighter and less scary, and sure, he was the best agent she’s ever met, but damn did he get on her nerves. And Raul always knew how to get her frustrated or squirming, he enjoyed it more than he was willing to admit. Sure, they’ve been friends for a long time and she should be used to him, but it never got easier. The fact he had a killer smile, the looks of a legit greek god and had this whole tough guy exterior, but secretly had a soft spot for her did not make her case any less complicated.

Y/N and Raul knew each other ever since they’re basically born. Their parents met when they worked together at a company of secret agents, it was only a small corporation back then, and they were known as the best agents at the time. After they retired from field missions and eventually desk jobs, they became only advisers and emergency contacts. But despite that, they kept their friendship going though all the years and that’s how Y/N was introduced to the triplets. They’re always together, doing everything with each other and protecting themselves. And of course she loved Peter and Shawn with her whole heart, they’re like family to her, but Raul was different. Y/N wished it wasn’t, but there are certain things in life you can’t exactly control. Like falling in love with your best friend.

And it’s not like she stood a chance, to be honest. Regardless of his looks, he treated her like she hung the moon and stars on the sky. Sure, he was a tough guy, who rode motorcycles and wore leather jackets, and wouldn’t admit alive that he cried while watching Lion King. But he took care of her when she was upset or having a bad period, he would take her driving around town at midnight on random occasions just because he knew it would make her feel better, and would always be so mindful of everything involving her. And yeah, he teased her endlessly, but it was part of it and in reality, Y/N didn’t mind it that much. 

So when they started growing older and decided to follow their parents career, it only made sense they trained their asses off and got the job together. The company their parents worked for grew a lot, a team that was originally formed by 15 agents turned into a massive business, with over 100 employees, doing various functions. Shawn was picked for a more diplomatic field, always in meetings with important people and traveling around the world. Peter became a tech engineer, developing the coolest gadgets and weapons imaginable, something out of Totally Spies! Raul was clearly a field agent, an expert on body combat and weapons, best out of the four when it came to their physical test. And Y/N was the one who guided the operations, the hacker and responsible for strategies, also for the tech part and best sniper out of the three of them. 

That made her and Raul an unbeatable team and the best duo ever. Their chemistry on the field was recognized by their bosses on the first week, basically glueing them together for every future mission and it worked. For the company. But it only dug her little crush deeper on Y/N’s heart. And obviously no one knew it. She was a spy for fucks sake, she knew how to lie and she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. Raul didn’t date, working on this field made  everyone’s love life a bit harder than it was already, and he never seemed interested enough in anyone with the same career to have a long lasting relationship with. That didn’t mean there where a lot of people interested, which made Y/N’s heart twist in her chest. 

“Sweetheart, you still with me?” Raul’s voice came through her earpiece bringing her back to reality.

“Of course I am, you idiot, I take this job really seriously” Y/N replied rolling her eyes as if she didn’t just daydreamed a bit. 

“Oh sorry, doll, didn’t mean to insult you hard working” he chuckled “but could you please check in the corridor number 6, half the team is heading down there right now”

“Sure” she quickly typed on her computer changing cameras really quickly, perks of being Peter’s best friend is that she could usually take extra stuff and the newest gadgets on the market “It’s clear and, by the way, you look pathetic with this glasses”

Raul laughed clearly amused, throwing his middle finger up in the air in the direction of the security camera he found “Oh really? Tell that to Peter, he’s the one who created them” 

“Technically their still a prototype, so make sure to let him know”

Raul scoffed playfully as he climbed another set of stairs, the man and woman with him following without questioning, used to his ways of leading “Of course, I’m sure he’ll like to hear your fashion critiques to his million dollar glasses”

“I’ll write it down, now careful, you’re approaching the level where they’re at”

“Sure, mom, I’m always careful” he said in a hushed tone signaling to his teammates to keep quiet and try to find the possible security team they left to watch the hostage.

“Shut up” Y/N said trying to hold back the smile from stretching her lips, already letting the airway team know to be ready to pick them up as they approached their target. 

They’re currently in the middle of a mission where they needed to recover another agent who got caught up in an ambush two weeks ago, and now they’re being kept as a hostage. Raul’s leading a team to retrieve the agent as quickly and as silently as they could, two with him and three other on the opposite side to meet halfway. All that while Y/N’s on the under construction building across the street seated among her gear, gun in hand following their every step and guiding them through the camera system and the big windows that other building had. It’s not the worst mission they’ve ever been, no apparent violence or blood bath, just a simple rescue mission, but they still felt a little jittery and always worried about each other’s lives. And through the years, they noticed that their copying mechanism to make this less stressful (at least a tiny bit) was through light banter and jokes. That somehow brought a bit of normality to their very non ordinary job. 

Y/N did her best to keep them hidden while they crashed into the building as quietly as possible, trying go unnoticeable since they didn’t have enough munition or people on the tactic team. It would also prevent them from moving the target around or opening fire. And despite the fact Raul kept on trying to joke around and that she’s been doing this for at least four years, the fact that they’re working with a less experienced and fresh out of the academy crew made her a little jittery. Not that she didn’t trust Raul to command everything and boss everyone around if things got messy, she just didn’t want him to get in the middle of a crossfire again. 

He had the terrible habit of playing the hero in the most inconvenient times, like when they were little and a guy twice his size, with three friends mocked her pigtails. He didn’t stand a chance, but he went after them anyway. They ended up having to run as fast as they could so they wouldn’t end up with a black eye or something. And that was nothing compared to the stupid shit he could do on field. And Y/N couldn’t be more pissed whenever he came home with more bruises then he should just to play Superman or something. Sure, that was admirable and the fact that he put everyone on his team on his top priority was definitely something fantastic for a captain, but not for Y/N’s heart. 

And for that reason, she was always extra careful, but when he had a newbie joining him on the field, Y/N tripled the attention to avoid putting the kid in danger, and, consequently her best friend. 

Raul was quick to take down two man on their level without raising much alarm, grabbing their munition, dragging the unconscious bodies away from where they’d be easily seen and moving forward to another set of stairs. He was a very skillful agent, with great physical development and worked great under pressure, with quick thinking and a natural leader. So it didn’t shock her when he was able to do that as if it was the most natural thing in the planet. While Raul was more of a passionate person, Y/N was more rational, was analyzing every possibility and coming up with creative solution, she was also really cold on work (she just had one exception) and was a quick thinker, great person to rely on. It’s almost as if the complimented each other and that’s why it worked. That’s why when she tells him to shoot, he does without thinking, or to jump, he wouldn’t blink before doing it head first. 

And that’s why they’re able to reach the hostage without much trouble. 

“Told you to chill out, I knew we could make it” he murmured through their coms and she giggled, shaking her head incredulously.

“You should watch the entrances while your teammates take care of the hostage”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart” he said with his infamous smirk stretching his annoyingly pink lips.

Y/N shook her head when she felt her face warming up a bit, stupid boy “Well, actually I’m pretty busy calling for our ride, so watch your own back this time, you’re a big boy, I’m sure you can do it”

Raul scoffed but did as she say either way “fine, are we clear?”

“On your floor yes, climb three more levels and meet me on this side of the street, don’t stall champ, they’re going to notice there’s something wrong with the cameras and their man who aren’t responding, so be quick”

Raul chuckled as he helped balance the hostage on Roman’s arms and signaling them to climb the stairs again “Yes, ma’am, anything to keep you from frowning and scolding my ass”

Y/N rolled her eyes smiling, sighing in relief that half of their mission was done and it went as smoothly as it could have been “Great, now get your ass out of there now, Raul” 

The tactic team started moving to the floor they’d have access to jump, and everything was going too smoothly to be true, not even a minor inconvenience. And that was not normal, at all. That’s when Y/N started getting worried. 

Everything was great until Seth, from loosing a lot of blood and being severely dehydrated, started loosing his conscious, making Roman’s job a lot more complicated and making everyone move slower. And while that was happening, Y/N saw when one of the guys saw his partners laying limply on the corner of a hallway and finally the pieces clicked. Luckily she was able to caught it quickly enough to be able to mess up their coms, so instead of a dozen men, they’d have to deal with two. She was also quick to let Raul know, so he jumped into action, telling everyone to rush and grabbing Seth’s right side, basically carrying him alongside Roman up the stairwell. 

But as they’re almost reaching the door, Raul heard footsteps rather close, rushing Roman up the rest of the way, warning he’d be right behind him, that he was only to be a bit far back so he could hold whoever was coming. 

He ran downstairs, quickly blocking the door to the staircase with a fire extinguisher, running all the way upstairs to reach his teammates and jump to go home. But as he had just reached the door, his colleagues waiting for him with their gear (and also his) ready to cross to the other building, he felt the barrel of a gun touching the back of his head. Raul raised his hands in surrender, his teammates staring at him with horror in their eyes as they aimed their guns to whoever was behind him, but he knew they couldn’t do much before he got shot. He also knew they’re too young, apart from Roman and Cara, who were both holding Seth up, they weren’t experienced enough to do something like that. But before the person could pull the trigger, they grunted in pain and Raul felt the barrel slipping away. 

He turned around to watch the guy on his back in the floor, clutching to his left ribs, a little pool of blood already forming underneath him and gun long forgotten. Raul looked around to see if it was anyone from this guy’s side or anyone on the stairs, only to be met with silence and a single security camera with the green dot on, meaning Y/N was still in their system. He shook his head in disbelief, dragging the whining man outside of the room, quacking his gun down the stairs and managing to lock the door so they could escape safely. 

“Still with me, baby?” Y/N’s voice teased mimicking the way he said it earlier. 

Raul shook his head with a smirk on his lips, before moving to where his teammates stood still a bit shocked with all that happened in front of them “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you, sweetheart”

“Alright boys, the helicopters are coming for us, meet you all on the roof in three” Y/N said through the coms for the whole team, quickly shifting to a line only the captain, Raul, could hear “and if you dare be late just to make a big entrance or another dramatic scheme you can think about, I swear to God I’ll leave you behind”

“You wouldn’t dare”

“Try me” Y/N sing sang picking up her stuff and quickly shoving them down in her backpack, gathering the rest in her hands before turning around to climb to the rooftop. 

As she climbed the last set of stairs, Y/N saw their helicopters approaching as the seven agents she was waiting for used a special gun to shoot a line to her building, before locking them in place before zip-lining their way to meet her. She helped Seth, the agent that was kept hostage climb up the little wall since he was in a pretty bad shape, throwing his arm across her shoulders and basically dragging him to where they thrown the stair to climb up to the helicopter with the medical team waiting for him. Cara and Roman climbed first since they’re going to report what they saw and assist Seth as best as they could. Roman grabbed him and the rope stair, shouting to pull them up so he could be taken care of. 

Raul was the last one to arrive, as always staying behind to insure everyone got there safely and no one would try to kill them or anything. He graciously climbed the all as if it was nothing, pulling the gun from the string and cutting it so no one could follow them up there that quickly. Raul told everyone to climb onto the helicopter and they’re quick to follow his order, only one person stubbornly waiting for him, as always. He held back the relieved smile from stretching across his features, noticing how warm and relaxed he felt only by seeing Y/N standing besides the hope ladder. She looked worried, a frown on her beautiful face and Raul wanted to smooth his fingers over it as if it would ease all of her troubles away.

She nodded as soon as he was close enough, Raul being quick to pick up the heavy backpack she was carrying and leaving the rest to her “Are you okay?”

“What? Of course, Why do you ask?” he knew why she was asking, hell, his heartbeat was still a bit too fast to be normal, and yeah, partially was because he was standing in front of Y/N, but on the other hand he almost got killed. She only arched her brow at him and he sighed in defeat “Of course I am, doll, you know me, I’m always okay” 

“That’s what’s scares me the most” she said with a sad chuckle and started climbing the rope ladder to the helicopter and Raul was quick to follow behind.

“Dude, that was insane, I can’t believe you didn’t miss or accidentally shot Raul from across the street!” the youngest guy from the mission shouted as soon as they reached them on the vehicle, Raul closing the door behind them. 

Y/N only giggled in response “yeah, a bit crazy, isn’t it?”

“That’s because she’s the best, Tommy, but she won’t believe it” Raul said as he sat on one of the vacant seats, waiting for her to join him. 

“Oh shut it” she said unable to stop the smile from forming.

They kept on talking about the mission for a while, Tommy and the other two kids who recently joined still high from the adrenaline, but Y/N couldn’t be more worn out and Raul was quick to catch it. He leaned closer to her and she automatically laid her head on his shoulder, a movement that was almost mechanic to both of them. He gently grabbed her hand that was placed on her knee and interlaced their fingers together, letting her play with his hand to pass the time. 

Y/N sighed and mumbled after a while, when most of the kids were too distracted to pay attention “Are you really okay? Don’t say that you’re always fine, I mean it”

Raul had mastered the art of the poker face. He could easily be having the worst time of his life, but he would never let it showcase always with a quick sarcastic remark and an easy smirk on his lips, ready to flirt with anyone to distract them from the real problem. Raul was not the best when dealing with feelings and emotions, always thought it was easier to push them away, but Y/N saw right through him. She always did, ever since they were little. After that, he never tried to hide it again from her, always being as honest as he could with her about how he was, and obviously it didn’t always work, but she understood and respected it. It’s not like he needed to say anything for her to know. 

But at the same time, she didn’t know that he would always be fine, as long as she was safe and right next to him, the rest didn’t matter. 

“I promise you I’m fine, you saved my beautiful ass and we’re going home, I’d say we’re fantastic” he said after a while, pressing a long kiss to the back of their laced hands. 

That seemed to be enough to convince Y/N, since she huffed through her nose and let out a tiny giggle, before leaning closer to him and Raul took it as a sign to drape his arm over her shoulder pulling her closer to his chest “your beautiful ass is really annoying, you know that, right?”

“Oh, I do, but you love it anyway” he said with a giggle, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, as she just showed him her middle finger, making him laugh even more. 

Yeah, he was definitely fine. For now. 

                                                     -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

[marvelslut16]

I trust you

Prompt number: 31 “I trust you”

Fandom: Marvel

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Part two to Trust me for once.

Rating: T

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions blood, violence, and death. A lil angst. 

A/N: I just want to write for Bucky for the rest of fictober, someone stop me please. I don’t know why I love this fic so much, but I do. Maybe it’s my lack of sleep messing with me lmao. I passed 500 followers and I can’t possibly begin to explain how much that means to me and how much I love each and every one of you! When I started my Tumblr last year to write some shitty self indulgent fanfics I never thought anyone would ever read them. I never imagined having 500 people following my shitty blog. 

In the week and a half since Hydra had captured you, Bucky has been spiraling. When he got to the quinjet and turned to look for you, his heart fell into the pit of his stomach when he couldn’t find you. Everything you had said to him in the warehouse started to make more sense, you phrashed things a specific way; ‘so long as it gets you out of here safely.’ He knew you weren’t coming, but he still made Steve keep the quinjet there and wait until it was almost too late and the team was under attack again.

Back at the compound Bucky spends all of his time in his room or down in the gym punching- and breaking- one of the many punching bags, throwing his knives at targets, and working on his shooting. He isn’t sleeping and he isn’t eating, he won’t even talk to Steve when the super soldier tries to get him to talk- whether it be about what happened in the warehouse or anything in general. 

Steve, Sam, and Tony are exhausting every resource they have to find you, Hydra had moved you to another location as soon as the quinjet was out of sight of the base. On the rare occasion Bucky isn’t in the gym or his room, he's hovering over the shoulders of the three men hoping he’ll see something they missed. He doesn’t, and only succeeds in annoying aforementioned men with his brooding stares and silence. 

Bucky has nightmares on a daily basis again, something that his time in Wakanda with Shuri and T’Challa had gotten rid of. The only difference this time is he doesn’t see himself. He sees everything he went through, all the tourture he endured and the innocent bloodshed, but instead of him you’re in his shoes. He watches you get your brain turned into mush in the damn chair. He watches you forgetting everyone- forgetting him- and then going after the Avengers because you don’t know any better. He can never wake up from the nightmares, he’s stuck in them until he watches you die or you kill him. 

Twelve days after you’re taken, Bucky's down in the gym, sitting on a chair because the memories of you in the warehouse are consuming him. You saying that he hates you and to just trust you for once are playing on repeat. How could you think he doesn't trust you?

“I trust you!” he screams into the empty gym, wishing he’d told you so in the warehouse, hurling the knife that was resting in his hand into the wall across from him. He goes to run his hands through his long strands of hair, forgetting he had cut most of it off, something you would refer to as pulling a Britney. He has no idea what that even means, but you say it everytime you or Nat impulsively cut your hair super short. Instead he pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to push the memories away. “I could never hate you.”

Steve enters the gym quietly, observing his best friend for a few minutes. He’s never seen him this bad before, not even when he was consumed by guilt when he realized all of the innocent lives that were lost by his hands. Steve was aware that Bucky has had feelings for you since he saw you, immediately becoming infatuated with your beauty. His feelings continued to grow when he learned your humor, sarcasm, intelligence, and saw your skill in battle. Steve knew Bucky was intimidated and nervous, not as skilled with the women like he was seventy years ago and that’s why he didn’t talk to you, but Steve never realized that Bucky cared this much. 

“Hey Buck,” Steve finally speaks, causing Bucky to stand up and pretend he wasn’t just having a breakdown. “We’ve got something.”

Bucky doesn’t verbally respond, instead he brushes past Steve and walks out of the gym. Steve quickly leads the way to the lab, filling Bucky in on the new development. Hydra is streaming a live feed of you chained to a chair right to every computer and television screen in the compound. When the two get to the lab, packed with the rest of the Avengers huddling around the same screen, Bucky see’s you for the first time in twelve days. The first time you aren’t a figment of his imagination. You’re bruised and bloody: split lip with dried blood on your chin; dried blood on your forehead from where you must have wiped the blood from the cut on your eyebrow so it didn’t drip into your eyes before you were chained to the chair; you’re left eye black, blue, and bruised; your skin has a yellow hue and your cheeks are hollow from malnutrition. 

Bucky wants to scream, he wants to put a fist through a wall, and he wants to kill whoever laid a hand on you. The Avengers watch quietly as he squeezes through the gaps in the group's huddle so he can be by the screen. By you. You aren’t staring at the camera, instead staring straight in front of you, where he imagines Hydra agents are standing. 

“You don’t want another Winter Soldier,” your voice is the exact opposite of your appearance, it’s still so strong and determined. “You want the Winter Soldier. You wanted us to intercept the messages and show up at the base, it was an ambush.” 

“Very good, Ms. (Y/L/N),” a man speaks off screen, he has a thick Russian accent, but Bucky doesn’t recognize it. “The only problem was that you seemed to figure it out that day, and ruined our plans.”

“Oops?” your sarcasm garners another slap, the ring on the man's hand causing a gash on your cheekbone. “It’s been what, over a week? How long are you gonna keep me?”

“Until Soldat switches places with you,” you let out a loud bark of a laugh that echoes off the walls in the small room. 

“Bucky, your Soldat, he won’t sacrifice himself for me,” you laugh at the man interrogating you.

“We learned of his affections for you-” you cut him off with another laugh. 

“You need to fire whoever told you that,” you can’t stop laughing at the absurdity that came out of the Hydra agents mouth. And you don’t care if he becomes angry and annoyed with you, you’re gonna get killed no matter what. Your eyes quickly flick to the camera set up on your left, the one the Hydra agents thought you hadn’t seen, before continuing knowing the Avengers had to be seeing all of this. “The only affection Bucky has for me is hatred. He hates me, there’s no way he’d switch places for little old me. You should have captured literally anyone else if you wanted him to be upset. He can’t stand me! We can’t even hold a simple conversation, and he always leaves the room when I’m in it. We were only paired up on this mission because of a fluke accident. Face it, you fucked up. I’m worthless to your Soldat.”

“That’s not true!” Bucky feels like he’s yelling it at the screen, but his protest is only a whisper. The rest of the team watches him with sad eyes, he’s looking at you so longingly. Trying to will you to understand how he feels about you through the screen. As if on cue, you glance at the camera again, giving it a sd smile, accepting your fate. A loud ping comes from one of the computers in the lab, but Bucky keeps eye contact with you, even though he knows you can’t see. He doesn’t realize he’s doing it until his flesh hand is pressed against the television.

“We’ve got a location!” Tony yells, already calling for his suit. 

“Then you’re worthless to me!” the hydra agent growls, stopping the team in their tracks who were on their way to change. 

“No,” Bucky pleads, when he hears the safety of a gun clicking off.  

“Any last words for your precious Avengers?” the man asks you, gesturing to the camera, he hadn’t noticed you’d already seen it. 

“I’d say tell my family I love them,” you’re openly talking to the camera now. “But I don’t have any. So thank you for being the family I never had, and the family I always wanted. I love every single one of you.”

A tear slips from your non swollen eye, a matching one rolling down Bucky’s cheek. The screen goes black, a gun goes off, and then the feed cuts completely. “No!” he screams, going to punch a hole in the television, but his fist goes right through due to it being Stark technology. 

“Where are you going?” Steve calls as Bucky heads to exit to the lab, no one else moving, too shocked to register everything that just happened. 

“Let’s go kill those bastards,” is his gruff response, heading towards the hanger with the Quinjet since he’s already dressed in his tactical gear from his time in the gym. 

Steve and Tony are the first ones dressed and ready to go, but the latter hangs back so Steve can talk to his best friend privately. Steve doesn’t say anything when he sits beside the brunette, he doesn’t know where to begin. 

“(Y/N) died thinking I hated her Stevie,” Bucky’s voice breaks. “I kept my distance cause I didn’t want to hurt her. And then I saw her with Sam and I was jealous so I started to ignore her more. I pushed her away because I was scared and jealous. And now she’ll never know that I love her.”

--

A shot rings through the small room you’re stuck in, the bullet lodging into the wall beside your head. You glance at the camera, finding the red light off. Your team, your family thinks you're dead. That was his damn plan, he knows they’ll come to avenge you. 

“Sit tight,” he smirks, the barrel of his gun coming into contact with your skull, effectively knocking you out. 

Your head is heavy and pounding in pain when you finally come to. Outside the door you can hear screams and guns going off at rapid speed. You cringe away from the sound when someone uses their body to break open the door to your room. The sound of familiar footsteps clomping towards you causes you to perk up, it’s Bucky. You can’t open your eyes or even move your head towards the sound to alert him that you’re okay, but you hear a whispered “thank god,” when he hears your steady heartbeat. From the crunching sound you can tell Bucky used his vibranium hand to crush the handcuffs keeping you attached to the chair. 

He picks you up bridal style, holding you close to his warm chest. You involuntarily cuddle into the warmth, causing Bucky to smile lovingly down at you. “I’ve got you now,” he whispers, hand caressing your cheek, careful not to put pressure on your many cuts. 

When you wake up again, you're in the familiar sterile medbay at the compound. A heavy weight is on your hand, looking over you notice it’s Bucky's hands clutching yours, his head tipped back on the seat he’s in.

“He hasn’t left your side,” Sam smirks at the scene from the doorway, holding a falcon stuffed animal. You playfully roll your eyes at the gift, but reach for it with your free hand. Bucky starts to stir, so Sam gives you a kiss on the forehead and heads for the door again. “Tinman’s whipped.”

The first thing you notice when you glance at Bucky again is his hair. He cut it all off when you were gone. As much as you loved his luscious locks and thought he was hot with them, he’s undeniably sexy with the short hairstyle. “You cut your hair,” Bucky immediately wakes up the rest of the way at your voice, ocean blue eyes staring into yours. “It looks good on you.”

“You could have died,” his voice exasperated. “And the first thing you mention is my hair. I’ve been worried sick, (Y/N)!”

“I was fine,” you roll your eyes, trying not to think of just how close to death you came. “I’m fine now.” 

“Next mission I get to call the shots,” he grumbles. “I’m not having the woman I love almost die for me again.”

“I love you too Buck,” you ignore the fact that he didn’t mean for you to hear his confession. “Why else would I be willing to die for you?”

He shoots out of his seat, eyes wide as he stares down at you. You push up to a sitting position, moving to the side of the bed, motioning for Bucky to lay beside you. He seems to debate with himself about whether he should or not, before finally laying down and gently pulling you into his arms. You crane your neck up to look into his eyes, he leans down and your lips meet timidly at first. It quickly turns into a slow loving kiss, the two of you wanting to prolong for as long as you can. You reach a hand up, caressing his face before slipping it through his now short locks.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​ @mrs-malfoy-always​

[luvvewan]

I'm so excited you are taking prompt again!!! For the hurt/comfort dialogue prompt #12, “You’re normally the tough guy. Today, let me be tough for the both of us.” From Obi-Wan to Qui-Gon. It doesn't have to be exact words, because I am honestly having trouble picturing Obi calling Qui a "tough guy"....

Thank you cass-rw for the prompt! I did change the dialogue up a little, as you suggested: “You have protected me more times than I can count, Master. This time, let me protect you.”

I’m still accepting prompts! This one got me good, wrote the whole thing this morning instead of doing any chores. It was glorious.

—

“No.”

Obi-Wan turned away, gathering a breath. The vastness of the dark forest beyond the small cave stared at him and he stared back, half in fear, half in wild, unearned hope. He knew from his research back on the ship, before all of this happened, before—he blinked and swallowed, shooing away the intrusive thoughts. He needed to be clear-headed. Focused. Alright, he could do that. On the ship, he had read about a small village somewhere in this forest.

People. Medicine, perhaps. Help.

“Padawan.”

The hand on his wrist tightened, though the pressure was still alarmingly weak. Obi-Wan looked down at his Master. “What else would I do? Leave you here to..” the words caught in his throat and he shook his head. “Master, you know I must do this.”

Qui-Gon’s blue eyes were clouded with pain, but they focused on Obi-Wan. Sweat gleamed on his too-pale skin. His long hair had come loose somewhere along the way and hung limply around his face. “You must…do as I say,” he managed to rasp.

Obi-Wan wiped the sweat from Qui-Gon’s brow with the edge of his sleeve. Heat blazed against his fingers where they brushed against his teacher’s forehead. “Let me look at it.”

Qui-Gon tensed where he was slouched against the rough cave wall. His hand crept over the wound. “There’s nothing to be done, young one. We called for help. They’ll…” he paused, trying to wet his dry lips, “Someone will come.”

With a careful touch, Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon’s hand away, so he could see the tiny tear in Qui-Gon’s tunic, rust-colored blood blooming around it.

Not very much blood, but then, it wasn’t blood loss Obi-Wan was worried about. It was the poison.

Qui-Gon must have noticed the change in his expression, despite Obi-Wan’s best efforts to appear calm, because he reached for Obi-Wan, patting his knee. “It seems to be slow-acting. I feel…okay, right now. We were lucky to find shelter.” A moan escaped him, and Obi-Wan helped him settle on the ground, quickly shedding his own robe and rolling it up under Qui-Gon’s head.

The cave was decent enough shelter, and the Force shields were added camouflage, well-worth the strain to Obi-Wan. Master Windu had said no skill was mastered until used in the field; certainly Obi-Wan had never maintained a Force shield for so long before. But he knew it would not be enough. The Noxii hunters that chased them were cunning and quick—able to land the poisoned dart in Qui-Gon’s flank before Obi-Wan even understood what was happening. There was no doubt in Obi-Wan’s mind that the Noxxi would catch up to them, despite the advantages the Force afforded them.

Which was why he needed to go for help. The Noxxi were outlaws, with very little support outside of the extreme fringes of society. He doubted the modest village was a haven for criminals, but they might be sympathetic to a young Jedi. The problem was he could not get through the dense forest fast enough with Qui-Gon in tow. If the Noxxi found them on their journey, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he could defend himself and his Master from them all. Yes, he was sure he needed to make the trip alone. He would be infinitely faster. Once he reached the village, he could borrow a speeder, medical supplies…

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon called to him, softly, from the ground.

He had two water skins in his pack. He would leave them both with Qui-Gon, and just take a swig before he set off. If necessary, he knew how to coax water from the forest.

“Obi-Wan.”

He’d need to gently pull Qui-Gon further into the cave, as far into the concealment of the shadows as possible, and cover him with branches and moss, so the Noxxi might not notice him, if they passed through while Obi-Wan was gone. Qui-Gon would have his lightsaber if—

“PADAWAN.”

The harsh whisper cut through everything. Obi-Wan’s stomach flipped at the obvious rebuke in the word. He kneeled beside Qui-Gon, head bowed in acknowledgement. His raggedy braid slipped out from behind his shoulder and dangled between them.

Qui-Gon inhaled, as if gathering the strength merely to speak. “I told you, young one. I forbid this.”

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. “I cannot stay here and wait for you to die, Qui-Gon.”

An unexpected smile briefly brightened Qui-Gon’s eyes. He lifted his hand, and Obi-Wan ducked down to meet it. His mentor cradled Obi-Wan’s cheek in a wide, clammy palm. “I cannot let you leave when it might kill you, Padawan. You will not do this. Not for me.”

Obi-Wan blinked against the sudden prick of warm moisture in his eyes. He squeezed Qui-Gon’s hand and rocked a little, letting the wave of worry and fear crest within him before replacing it with the steadiness of resolve, duty, the Force. “You have protected me more times than I can count, Master. This time, let me protect you.”

Despite his growing fragility, Qui-Gon dragged him in closer, until their foreheads were nearly pressed together.

Obi-Wan could feel the sick-sour breath against his face. He was not an initiate, or even a child anymore, but something inside him wanted to curl into the comfort of his Master, someone older and wiser, and hope the threats around them just vanished into the cool night air.

Qui-Gon stroked the back of his head, smoothing down the nerftail. “It is my duty…” he coughed and moaned, his pain spiking through their Force connection. “My duty to protect you. Don’t take that from me.”

He had very rarely gone against Qui-Gon in their near-decade as master and apprentice. Obi-Wan knew it was the right thing to do in this instance, but it didn’t make it easier. He could be sanctioned by the Council, or worse, damage the bond between himself and the man who had raised him. Yet no conceivable consequence mattered when Qui-Gon’s life was at stake.

He would do what he must.

Obi-Wan shored up the guards around his thoughts while allowing Qui-Gon access to his general presence in the Force. He emanated frustration and dutiful acceptance, emotions of a loyal Padawan’s surrender. “Yes, Master,” he answered at last.

A relieved, shaky sigh. “Thank you.”

—

Qui-Gon came to the independent conclusion that they should settle in the depths of the cave. Obi-Wan was sweating and trembling a bit himself by the time it was done.

His Master apologized for his helplessness and insisted Obi-Wan drink from a water skin.

Obi-Wan helped Qui-Gon take a few slow sips before doing as he was told, just a swallow to soothe the dry burn in his throat. The night ripened outside the cave; he heard the drone of nocturnal insects, the rustle of a slight wind through the trees.

“Come here,” Qui-Gon tugged at his tabards and Obi-Wan turned, crawling over to him. The ceiling of the cave was much lower here, claustrophobic. He wasn’t sure how a man of Qui-Gon’s size had been able to fit, but Obi-Wan was neither tall nor broad, and squeezed in beside his teacher.

Qui-Gon was spread on his side, head still pillowed by Obi-Wan’s robe. Obi-Wan drew closer at Qui-Gon’s urging, until he was snug in the curve of his Master’s body, and a heavy arm rested over top of him.

“Help will come,” Qui-Gon murmured against his hair.

Obi-Wan watched the night-flies twinkle and wink at the mouth of the forest. He wondered how long it would be until someone received their message, way out here. He wasn’t so sure Qui-Gon would be alive when reinforcements finally arrived. “I can help you,” he tried again, this time using a different tactic. “Do you think I’m incapable?”

Obi-Wan felt immediately guilty for pretending to be offended, for questioning his Master at all in a dire time like this. A large hand laid on his chest, over his heart.

“There is nothing of which you are incapable,” Qui-Gon told him, his feeble voice somehow filling up the entire cave. “It is me. Obi-Wan. I..I am…incapable of losing you.”

Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon’s lips press into his sweaty hair.

“Someone will come. Just stay here with me, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan found he couldn’t speak so he nodded, the forest suddenly blurring. He listened to Qui-Gon’s breathing slow down, though it did not find a healthy rhythm. He sensed the poison seeping through his Master’s aura, like a scum-squid’s fatal ink spreading in clear, clean water.

The dart was wrapped up in a cloth in one of his belt pouches. He wondered if a healer could at least vaguely identify the toxin from inspection of the dart. Qui-Gon’s symptoms were so common—fever, weakness, pain. How difficult would it be to narrow the options down?

He needed time. He couldn’t wait.

As if he could hear the direction of Obi-Wan’s thoughts, Qui-Gon pulled him tighter to his chest, inhaling fitfully in his sleep.

The dirt was surprisingly soft under Obi-Wan’s cheek. His adrenaline waned now that he was lying down and his own, slighter injuries made themselves known. He had some painful bruising on his back from a fall during their desperate, clumsy escape from the Noxxi ambush. Headache raged behind his temples. He wasn’t certain what hour it was, only moderately confident in the date, but it had been a long while since he’d eaten or slept.

Was Qui-Gon right? Would the travail to the village pose too great a risk? Obi-Wan shut his eyes, the headache pulsing harder. He wondered if he might be concussed. Perhaps he was overestimating his abilities. After all, he was not yet a senior Padawan, and his own Master, a devastatingly adept warrior, had been felled by these hunters.

He let the warmth of Qui-Gon’s arms settle in his bones. He knew the man’s plan had been exactly this, to keep Obi-Wan so close there was no way he could leave the cave without Qui-Gon knowing. Right now, Obi-Wan could not even roll over onto his other side and not awaken his Master.

He thought of Qui-Gon’s fear, a slash of silver in the black night. No fear for himself, of course.

I am incapable of losing you.

Obi-Wan understood what Qui-Gon had meant by those words, because Obi-Wan felt the same way. Losing his Master was not something he would survive. And he had not been taught to surrender in the face of mortal danger.

Resolved, his eyes flew open, and Obi-Wan steeled himself for what he needed to do next. He was no match for Qui-Gon, in Force strength or physical might, except the poison was stealing away his vitality with every passing moment. In their current circumstance, Obi-Wan might be able to nudge Qui-Gon deeper into sleep, maybe even a healing trance, and then he could extract himself from the protective embrace.

They had not covered Force suggestions among fellow Jedi before, not even at the Temple. Obi-Wan supposed it was a more advanced technique for a mid-level Padawan. Or Qui-Gon just didn’t want him to know how to do it because…well, because of situations such as the one they were in now.

Luckily, Qui-Gon was unshielded, and his unconscious Force presence floated out in the open. Obi-Wan sent calm sensations along the ties that held them together.

I am alright. I am here with you.

He repeated the messages, dispatching more and more, letting them carry Qui-Gon deeper into the soft, sheltering void of sleep.

Poison cannot touch you. You are of the Force. The Force cannot be poisoned. May the Force be with you, Qui-Gon Jinn.

He was not a healer, any more than he was a Jedi Master, but Obi-Wan wished fervently for a blessing, that his attempts at healing would do something to help Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan waited a few minutes, until he sensed Qui-Gon sink well below the surface. Then he very carefully pulled back the arm that held him, and inched out, replacing it on the bed of powdery dirt.

His hand drifted to his belt, alighting on his saber, and touching the leather pouch where the deadly dart was stored, just to be sure. He set the water skins close to Qui-Gon and placed leaves, branches and tangled moss on top and around him. He spared a second to study his Master, just in case—

No. There was no just in case.

Only the Force.

Obi-Wan wanted to touch Qui-Gon’s bearded cheek, but worried it would wake him. His throat felt like it was closing. “Forgive me,” he whispered, and sneaked out of the cave, away from his wounded Master and into the night, towards help.

[blitheringmcgonagall]

My Gallant Lad - Part IV

So I got a wonderful anon telling me that this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fic, it’s part of my finished canon marauders fic We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone story, I posted it here in four parts. I hope you enjoy it! Set during the first wizarding war, Lily is very BAMF (but tbh so is James)

TW: angsty and violence

Part I here: After their worst row ever, Lily and James get captured by Voldemort...

Part II here: James tries to save Lily

Part III here: Lily tries to save James

PART IV

(PS this is not pro- Snape at all, quite the opposite, for this to make sense you’ll have to read the other parts, lol!)

Mulciber swallowed.

“Now help me lift Potter, and for fuck’s sake be careful, he’s perilously close to death as it is!” Snape said.

He was so angry his body was shaking in agitation.

Mulciber lifted James’ body as though it were made of glass.

                                       ***

“I’ll take it from here,” Snape ordered.

They were standing underneath the main door of the castle, which led into the courtyard.

“I thought we were bringing Potter and his vile mudblood to the Dark Lord?” Mulciber said, frowning suspiciously.

“Change of plan, Mulciber,” Snape said matter-of-factly. “I want to try and get Evans to talk, that way if Potter snuffs it, we won’t risk being beheaded by him.”

“What do you mean?” Mulciber looked at him in bewilderment. “If you attack Evans and manage to injure her also, we’re doubly fucked!”

“I won’t fuck it up, unlike you dithering idiots I actually know what I’m doing!” Snape says angrily.

Mulciber stared hard at him.

“Are you sure you’re Snape?” he said, narrowing his eyes and reaching for his wand. “You’re acting strangely and I-“

“He’s Snape all right, but under the Imperius Curse,” Lily interjected. “Expelliarmus!”

Mulciber’s wand flew into Lily’s outstretched hand.

“You?” Mulciber seethed. “How in Morgana’s hell did you manage to Imperio him? Last I heard you were wailing painfully awful songs from your cell, giving us all a headache! I thought you’d given up!”

“The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad, for all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad,” Lily shrugged. “You just hadn’t experienced the merry part yet!”

“You’re not a man,” Mulciber sneered.

“Ha!” Lily’s face broke into a harsh smile. “What Chesterton didn’t say about Irish women is that when they’re angry, all their wars are won!”

Mulciber stared at her sullenly.

“Not my fault that you consistently underestimate me, Mulciber!” Lily shot back. “You think you’d have learnt by now!”

Mulciber’s face looked like curdled milk.

“Too late,” Lily said. “Obliviate!”

Mulciber’s expression changed slowly to one of utter confusion as he looked between Lily, James and Snape. He hadn’t even seen the spell hit him.

“What happened to him?” he said, scratching behind his ear and staring at James’ body. “Where’s your Head Girl badge? Your uniform?”

“Quidditch injury,” Lily said flatly. “Vicious Slytherin tactics. One hundred points from your House, now back to your common room before I have you expelled!”

“Whaat?” Mulciber said, looking utterly bewildered.

“I’m counting till ten. Ten… nine… eight…” Lily said.

Mulciber stumbled and turned immediately, muttering incoherent protests.

“Not bad, Lily Evans,” Snape whispered with a vicious grin. “Not bad at all.”

                                                  ***

“Outside! Now!” Snape ordered.

Lily Evans remained silent as she walked outside at a steady pace, Snape following her and dragging James Potter’s body along the ancient flagstones.

“Now, it seems that nothing will persuade Dumbledore’s man to reveal what has happened to the Dark Lord’s precious treasure, a book Dumbledore’s men stole! Potter nearly died refusing to tell us. I’m ordering you to tell me, or I’ll make you kill your own husband!” he called out.

“No, I won’t tell you anything,” Lily said with effort.

“Wow! That’s dope!” Villiers whispered loudly to Wilkes.

The two men were sitting on the battlements having a smoke and peering down with interest at the scene unfolding below them.

“Look what Snape is up to! I never thought he was into that shit!” Wilkes replied. “He usually lets us handle that kind of stuff, says it’s boring!”

They looked at each other and grinned.

“Massive!” Villiers giggled, bumping fists with Wilkes.

Snape picked up his wand.

“Last chance, Miss. Evans,” he said, dragging James closer to the middle of the courtyard.

He was holding two other wands in his hand.

“What is going on here?”

Snape whirled around.

Voldemort was standing at the castle gate, and with him Evan Rosier. Voldemort’s wand was pointed at him.

“I am quite simply trying to establish the whereabouts of your missing book, my Lord,” Snape said. “I thought this might work.”

“Rosier here tells me you have been acting exceedingly strange,” Voldemort’s voice was icy. “He thinks you may be under the Imperius Curse.”

“Rosier is neither observant nor intelligent, my Lord,” Snape said stiffly.

“Be that as it may, Severus, you are not yourself, you would not usually dare speak to me with this much courage,” Voldemort replied, stepping forwards.

“My Lord?” Severus replied.

“Let us see what happens, shall we?” Voldemort said, whirling around at the last minute and pointing his wand at Lily.

“Stupefy!” Voldemort said with a lazy swish of his wand.

Lily Evans crumpled to the ground. Snape stood motionless, as though unsure what to do.

“Ah, the spell fades, I see. I had hoped you would not be so easily overcome by it. You disappoint me, Severus, I thought you were stronger than that. I thought you knew the mudblood well enough to watch out for any tricks she might play? Or were you too enticed by her beauty to focus on doing your job properly?” Voldemort spat out. “You shall pay for this mistake! And the object of your affections will most definitely pay.”

“I’m afraid I underestimated the mudblood,” Snape said, with a condescending smirk at the Dark Lord. “I don’t know her as well as I thought I did. She should perhaps have been sorted into Slytherin. It appears that Lily Evans is a devious little bitch!”

Startling emerald eyes glared at Voldemort from Snape’s face. As the wheels in Voldemort’s mind whirled, Snape removed a leather bracelet from his wrist and tapped it, revealing a large glittering brass key.

“Póg mo thóin, Riddle!” he said, flicking the V at Voldemort (who looked momentarily stunned) as he grabbed hold of James��� arm and apparated into thin air.

“I don’t get it,” Rosier said, looking at Voldemort and rubbing his forehead as though in pain. “Was that Snape? No, hang on.. what was..?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” roared Voldemort, raising his head as his blood-curdling screams carried over the courtyard and into the surrounding forest.

He kicked out viciously at Rosier’s leg sending him hopping around in circles howling with pain. A family of carrion crows, disturbed by the commotion, flapped and squawked upwards from the turrets and battlements.

“Which one of you is the imbecile who allowed Lily Evans to escape?” he screamed at Rosier. “Why did none of you stop her?”

Villiers and Wilkes ducked down behind the walls of the battlements, grimacing.

A splash of white bird dropping landed on Voldemort’s nose. Rosier stared at him.

“You have some…” he said, pointing to Voldemort’s face. “Just there?”

Voldemort looked ready to kill him.

“If you don’t permanently dispose of this group of crows by Salazar’s soul, I will feed you to them myself!” he shouted wildly, waving his wand at Rosier, and rubbing his face furiously with the back of his sleeve.

“A murder of crows, not a group, but whatever,” Rosier muttered to himself, looking peeved, as he aimed Avada Kedavras at the screeching birds.

Voldemort walked over to the body of Lily Evans and stared at the darkening hair and sallower skin, Snape’s eyes looking up at him.

“Legilimens!” he intoned.

The memory was tampered with, powerfully, so that he was unable to see some of the earlier incidents, but he could see the conversation between “Snape” and Avery, Fuck Voldemort, I hate that bastard! Avery running off to hide from him. Seething with rage, he grabbed Rosier’s arm and touched his dark mark.

He watched as all his followers apparated around him, all except Snape who lay half-stunned on the ground, and Hugo Avery.

“Find Avery, bring him to me, now, or you all die!” he hissed, the red veins in his sclera protruding menacingly. “Nooooowwwww!!!!”

                                                  ***

 “I don’t know what happened,” Frank said, his croaky voice difficult to understand in between coughing fits.

“He needs to come with me to the Infirmatory,” Poppy interrupted, looking at Dumbledore and pointing towards the door.

Frank continued coughing and shook his head forcefully.

“We were ambushed… they were waiting for us… they wanted to get Black and Lupin,” he wheezed. “They got Lily and James… I wanted to create a diversion but before I could move, one of them released noxious fumes, no doubt to catch any other Order members, I was knocked out cold… I fell backwards and the thicket hid me from sight… woke up freezing cold a short while ago… I couldn’t find any trace of them whatsoever. I only got back just as Lily apparated here with James, he looks bad.”

The ancient double door burst open as he spoke, and Sirius Black stormed inside, his black jeans soaking wet, his leather jacket still in his hands, closely followed by a haggard-looking Remus Lupin.

“We came as soon as we got your owl. Where are they?” he roared, going straight up to Frank and grabbing hold of his collar urgently. “Where the fuck are they? Tell me!”

Remus found himself unable to utter a single word.

                                                     ***

The door of the Infirmary flew open, Sirius breathless as though he had just sprinted up five flights of stairs (which he had). He looked at Lily and seeing the pain and fear in her eyes, he forced himself to look at James lying unconscious in the bed behind her - it didn’t look like his brother, the bruised and battered body covered in what he immediately recognised as myriad curses, his usually tanned skin a deathly pale colour. He looked already dead. He looked back at Lily, the darkness under her eyes, her quivering lips.

“Lily,” he tried to say her name but no words came out, caught in his throat.

“I know, sweetie,” Lily’s voice a hoarse whisper.

Then they flung their arms around each other, gripping on for dear life. Sirius felt her chest heave and held her even closer as her quiet sobs filled the silent room, shattering his heart.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered back, his breath still caught inside his chest, trapped.

What could he say, hearing her heartbroken sounds?

“We won’t... we shan’t let him die,” he managed to say eventually, shutting his eyes tightly to stop himself breaking down. He moved to take both her hands in his own, looking down at her with tears in his eyes.

He didn’t even know was he trying to comfort her or was he trying to comfort himself.

“I… I used an Unforgivable, Sirius,” Lily said eventually, keeping her head down.

“I would have sprained my wrist throwing Unforgivables at the bastards!” Sirius said. “I wish I could have done it for you.”

He had badness in him already, let him hold it for all of them.

It should have been him. He should have been there instead of James, instead of Lily.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Lily’s voice shook. “I did it to save James… it felt wrong, Sirius, it is wrong and disgusting, but I know I’d do it again to save him. Am I a bad person, Sirius? I.. I saw what they did to him, I wanted them all dead… I thought about it... I wanted to. I don’t want to become like them, Sirius, but I wanted to kill them, so badly!”

“Lily, you didn’t kill them. You could have tried to, but you didn’t. You saved James. Merlin, you saved my brother, the only brother I have left, I can never thank you enough,” Sirius’ voice broke.

He wondered what he would have done in her place.

“It was Snape, he wanted to save me, but I had to find James, I couldn’t… he hurt James, I hate him for it,” Lily said desperately, squeezing Sirius’ arms.

“Fuck that creepy bastard!” Sirius said.

“What if Voldemort kills him? What if he dies? It will be my fault!” Lily whispered. “I hate him so much, but I don’t want to get him killed. I wouldn’t care if he died in battle, not now, not after everything he’s done to James! But being tortured and killed for trying to save me? I don’t want that, am I mad?”

“You had to,“ Sirius said, gripping her tightly. “You had to try to save James. You couldn’t leave with Snape, you know that would have been wrong! You are not to blame for anything Voldemort does!”

“I need James too, Sirius, he doesn’t see that, he thought I could manage without him, he’s so stupid, such a stupid, darling, beautiful man,” Lily stopped, her hand over her mouth.

“He can’t die, Poppy won’t let him die,” Sirius whispered back.

Lily nodded, still crying. He saw her sway and grabbed hold of her shoulders.

“Merlin Lily,” he said anxiously. “Sit down immediately! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you need Poppy? Will I get-“

“ No, please, Sirius, I didn’t get hurt, James-“ she stopped, unable to continue, and bringing her hand up to her mouth again.

He didn’t think he could handle hearing what had happened.

“Hush, Lily, you’re both safe now,” he heard himself say.

“He... I couldn’t... I tried...” she said. She closed her eyes and swayed again, sitting down suddenly and placing her head between her knees.

“I need some water, and something to eat,” she said, sounding suddenly anxious as her almond shaped clear eyes searched Sirius’ for reassurance.

“I... Merlin, yes of course, Darling, let me get that for you!” Sirius said, relief blossoming at some small task he could do to help. “Do you want a firewhisky instead?”

“No! I can’t drink now I’m ... I’m a bit dehydrated Sirius, I better stick to the water,” Lily said, placing her hand over her lower abdomen in a protective gesture.

“Yes of course,” Sirius said feverishly, throwing his leather jacket on.

“I’ll get it,” Dearborn was standing in the doorway looking at Lily uncomfortably.

“Lily, I know you already had a debriefing with Professor Dumbledore, but he was wondering if you wouldn’t mind answering a few more-“ he continued.

“No!”

Both Lily and Sirius spoke at once.

“Not now, my husband needs me here, Dumbledore can wait,” Lily said, staring at Dearborn with a hostile expression as she swiped at her red eyes furiously.

“Tell him to go fuck himself,” Sirius growled.

Dearborn nodded, recognising defeat.

“You get some food and water for Lily, Caradoc, I’ll tell Dumbledore,” Remus said. Remus stood quietly behind Dearborn, a grim look, no obvious emotions displayed on his tired face.

“Righto,” Dearborn nodded reluctantly.

“Hurry up,” Remus ordered. “We don’t want Poppy to end up with another patient.”

“Righto,” Dearborn said, looking relieved to have an excuse to leave.

                                                      *** “You wanted to speak with me, Mr. Lupin?” Dumbledore said, gesturing vaguely towards the chair in front of him.

Remus sat down. The silence made him nervous.

“You feel guilty for swapping your week on call with the Potters. You want to make sure that your friends are protected from danger as much as possible from now on?”

Remus felt his cheeks flush. He nodded, feeling even worse.

“Good,” Dumbledore said. “I can see why you’d think that way.”

Remus swallowed. Dumbledore blamed him too? He wanted to crawl under the floorboards never to re-emerge.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, looking down, unable to meet the Professor’s gaze. “I should have stayed…”

“That’s quite alright, Remus, these things happen, and we have to learn from them,” Dumbledore said.

Remus felt himself slide further down the chair. He wanted to cry. It reminded him of The Prank at the end of Fifth Year. It should have been him. He should have insisted Sirius go with someone else. He felt personally responsible for what had happened, and if James died because of him… if James died…

“What can I do, Sir?” Remus whispered hoarsely. “Tell me there is something I can do to help!”

He looked up and caught Dumbledore looking at him keenly, with an astute gaze.

“Of course there is something you can do to help, Remus,” Dumbledore said, steepling his hands together. “It will be dangerous though, the most dangerous mission I have ever given any member of the Order.”

Remus nodded dumbly.

“It is also top secret. You must not discuss this information with a single soul,” Dumbledore said, his blue eyes assessing Remus coolly. “Not the Marauders, not Lily Potter, especially not Sirius Black. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Remus said, sitting up straighter. “You can trust me.”

“I hope so, Remus,” Dumbledore said. “Most people wouldn’t.”

Remus froze, taken aback.

“I…” he stuttered.

“Luckily for you, I am not most people, Mr. Lupin,” Dumbledore smiled pleasantly. “Lemon sherbet?”

Somewhere in the back of Remus’ mind the words you bastard and what the fuck presented themselves as appropriate responses.

He declined politely.

“I have a singularly important and quite unusual mission, and it seems to me that you are the perfect candidate to volunteer for it,” Dumbledore said, sucking loudly on the muggle sweet and leaning back into his chair.

Somehow the wizard’s eyes seemed beadier in this light. Remus waited.

“I will of course understand if you turn down this opportunity, Remus, that you may be too frightened to go,” Dumbledore said. “Other Order members may be more-“

Remus’ jaw tightened. The words you bastard and what the fuck once more presented themselves as appropriate responses.

“Other Order members have no idea how little I fear most things,” Remus said, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes, of course, Remus, I am well aware that compared to most-“ Dumbledore said, with a placating raise of his palms.

“What mission?” Remus asked.

“A mission to infiltrate Fenrir Greyback’s werewolf pack. I am aware you have already made his acquaintance,” Dumbledore said. “To see if they can be persuaded to abandon their leader and join our side in the war. And to spy on them, at any rate.”

Remus felt a cold shiver of dread run down his spine. His old Headmaster couldn’t be serious, surely. That was a hopeless mission, a pointless waste of life, a …

Greyback…

An ear-splitting scream of terror, his own. Rabid eyes. Massive yellow canines lunging towards him, saliva dripping off them. Laughter and howling.

“Tell your Daddy I said hello!”

A tearing sensation as huge teeth sank into his hip. Another ear-splitting scream, this time of pain…

He felt his hands tremble and gripped the edges of the armchair in agitation.

“If you’d rather not, I am sure I can persuade another member of the Order to pretend to be a werewolf. With some clever Transfiguration spells, which many of our members are particularly gifted at, especially your own friends-“ Dumbledore said.

“No!” Remus said, standing up suddenly and staring hard at the other man, his breathing erratic. “Merlin no! You have no idea…”

His voice trailed off again, his heart hammering wildly against his ribcage.

“So, Mr. Lupin, you don’t feel you can bring yourself to-“ Dumbledore said.

“No!” Remus practically shouted. “I’ll do it! Don’t even think about asking anyone else… I’ll do it, alright?”

“I see,” Dumbledore smiled kindly again. “My deepest apologies Remus, how very brave of you. I should never have doubted you.”

Remus bit the side of his lip. This was akin to agreeing to a suicide mission. Any sane individual would have refused to accept the offer. But surely Dumbledore had guessed he would never allow any of his friends or colleagues to go instead of him, to risk being turned? The bastard must have known all along. Yet he owed so much to this old man, this powerful wizard, the one they were all relying on to beat Voldemort and to win this war. The one who had given him a chance. Who had risked his reputation by allowing him into Hogwarts. Who had not expelled him after the disastrous Prank in Fifth Year. Maybe he was being unkind and unfair to the man. Perhaps this mission was genuinely important?

“No need to apologise, Sir,” Remus said with a small smile, extending his hand out.

“Thank you, Remus,” Dumbledore said, shaking his hand warmly. “I do appreciate your help in this war. I shall contact you shortly with more information about this entire affair. Please remember to keep this top secret.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Remus.

                                           ***

He opened the door quietly. The room was dimly lit by the fire and the large candles on either side of the infirmary bed. James looked the same, somewhere between life and death. Lily was sitting on a chair, her head lying on the bed beside him, still fully clothed, the dark shadows under her eyes more pronounced in this light. She was holding James’ hand. Sirius was nowhere to be seen, but at the foot of the bed, on top of the carefully folded blankets lay Padfoot. He was whimpering in his sleep. The shaggy dog opened his eyes briefly, fixing Remus with his mournful grey eyes.

“Sleep, Padfoot,” Remus said quietly. “I’ll stay up. I’ll call Poppy if there’s any change. There’s nothing more we can do.”

Padfoot yelped quietly, turning to look at Lily and James and then looked back at Remus and whined. He was looking at Remus accusingly. Where had he disappeared off to, why hadn’t he comforted Lily? Did he not care?

“I’m sorry,” Remus said.

It sounded curt. Inadequate.

What more could he say?

Padfoot whined once again, dropping his head into his paws, looking dejected. Remus sat on the ground, his head in his hands. He could go over, talk to Sirius, but his boyfriend always knew if he was hiding anything from him, and he was too tired to make up an excuse for what had just happened. Too tired, too traumatised, too selfish…

He stayed where he was.

Padfoot slept fitfully, beset by nightmares. Remus did not sleep a wink. He did not allow himself to sleep. The fear of nightmares kept him awake, as though he were four years old again. Besides, he did not deserve to sleep.

                                          ***

PS Póg mo thóin - kiss my ass in Irish

PS To find out if James is okay, and if Lily is in fact pregnant and if yes, what happens next etc, I’m afraid you’ll have to keep reading  We Can Be Heroes. If you just want to read on, it’s from Chapter 45.

 If you want, I can post more stand alones (Harry’s birth? the Jily engagement? Jily Wedding? Wolfstar first kiss etc??or the next part but it just leads into more stuff!)

[thetwofaced]

Okay but like. We need to talk about ppl shuffling the team assignments in Naruto. why the hell would you do that it makes no sense ?

Like seriously. Think about it for a minute.

Team 8?

A tracking team why you ask?

Aburame Shino and his kikaichū

Kikaichū are best used for tracking or ambush by draining their target of chakra (useful when tracking an escapee that needs to be captured)

Inuzuka Kiba - I mean come on. They are known for their sense of smell. Again as demonstrated by kakashi in the wave arc a great sense of smell helps tremendously in finding someone despite harsh weather conditions or distance.

With Kiba comes Akamaru and I don't need to point out how useful he is I think.

Lastly Hyuuga Hinata. I got one word for you. BYAKUGAN

Team 10

Predominantly a capture and intel gathering team

I'll start this off by pointing out that they have basically been groomed to work together! Hell its the same thing they later do in Boruto even if I personally hate Boruto, you can clearly see the mindset behind it. WHY would you , as a military dictator - and thats what the Hokage is essentially- why would you disrupt a team thats already adapt at working well together ???

Now. Akimichi Choji. The muscle because honestly they need him. Be it to protect Ino and Shikamaru or to launch an assault attack or provide bait for Ino and Shikamaru to use their Jutsus. Plain and simple. Not to mention someone needs to keep the peace between Ino and Shika sometimes.

Yamanaka Ino. Now listen I get she can be annoying. I do. But. The potential this girl has is scary. She is after all the daughter of Inoichi and like -he works in T&I guys. With ppl like Ibiki and Anko. Yamanakas can not only take over your body (think of all the information they can gain with that! Without putting their team at risk! All I say is the chunin exams) No, Yamanakas can also invade the mind. And if that's not god damn scary and practical I don't know what is. Perfect for infiltration and Intel gathering. FIGHT ME add to that that she is one of the few able to actually motivate Shikamaru do do something other than laze around.

Lastly we have Nara Shikamaru aka the god damn genius with an IQ of 200. Over 200 if Asuma is to be believed. Hes a tactical genius, realistic in his approach and in his and his comrades abilities. Adapt at planing several steps ahead and predicting his opponent's behaviour. There is a reason why he made Chunin so early and why Ino and Choji trust and listen to his commands. And then remember the trapping abilities of his clan shadow jutsu. And the advanced techniques he later learns that enable him to kill with his shadows.

Aaah team 7.

The disaster. I'll start this off by saying that not one person on team 7 is mental stable or sound.

Still let me explain how they were INTENDED to work in my humble opinion.

Frontal assault team.

Uchiha Sasuke. Taijutsu proficient, top of his class. Smart. The second genius of his generation. While not as adapt at tactics as Shikamaru he learns quickly , has fairly big chakra reserves and a drive. Hell this boy learn a fire jutsu at the age of 7. Aka hes good at ninjutus as well. It is no secret that Kishimoto loves the Uchiha and it shows. And that's all before he awakened his Sharingan and the fact he is the last loyal Uchiha left in the village (by the time they form the teams and to the publics General knowledge)

Uzumaki Naruto. The ninjutsu powerhouse of team 7 simply because he is a ) an Uzumaki who were known for their big chakra reserves and b) he's the god damn jinchiruki od the kyuubi. Let's ad to that that I am still mad no one thought to capitalise on his prankster mentality by introducing this boy to traping because God damn it . This boy regularly pranked an entire shinobi village while wearing a bright kill me orange jumpsuit and he rarely got caught. Hell this boy stole the forbidden scroll. Out of the hokage tower. At the age of 12. And learned a kinjutsu in the matter of hours. Who caught him ? Iruka. Why? Because he was the only one who knew him well enough. God damn anbu didn't manage. Ad to that his ingenuity. Naruto is good at coming up with tactics on the fly by thinking outside of the box something that is shown in Shippuden when him and Sakura go against Kakashi,defeating Kakashi not by fighting him even tho that was what kakshi expected but by beating him using his knowledge of Kakshis love for Icha Icha. Boy was robbed of a good education and nobody can tell me otherwise.

And last Haruno Sakura. Book smart, good at retaining information. Have I mentioned perfect Chakra control ? She got the tree walking exercises in one go. Her place on the team is support provided either by Genjutsu or medical ninjutsu.

Lastly it is important to note why team 7 got Hatake Kakashi as their sensei. There are - at the time of team 7s formation- exactly two shinobi in the village that are able to control the kyuubi. Kakshi with his sharingan and Tenzo aka Yamato trough his mokuton abilities. Jiraya would probably count as well but unfortunately for everyone he's kind of busy outside of the village the god damn coward. Tenzo is in anbu and to valuable in his current position so Kakashi got the job. He also got Sasuke because Kakashi is the only Shinibi left in Konoha able to teach Sasuke how to use it. Sakura got thrown in because her grade were good.

And thast on my rant why in my opinion it makes no god damn sens to change the team members in Naruto. Does it mean I think this isn't flawed as hell? Oh Hell NO! I love Kakashi. I really do. But I'm under no Illusion what so ever that he was a shity teacher. He ignored Sakura, and Naruto and focused mainly on Sasuke. Not saying I don't have a theory why that was but we all know that Kakashi was in dire need of therapy before he even made Genin and it shows. He's not fit to teach. Then again its not like there's many other options left considering the situation. But maybe I'll cover that in another post who knows.

Edid:

Something I felt I needed to clarify after a conversation that I had with @hotarukanzaki 😂 I am well aware that Kakashi is not able to control Kurama. All im saying is that I personally think is was thought that he would be one of the few thought to have a chance of doing so should the need arise

[musetta3]

Dragon Age OC as a Companion: Revka Cadash

Trend started by @little-lightning-lavellan it’s an amazing one and I had such fun with it! Thank you for the template!

This will be under a cut, because ohhhhhh my, there’s a lot here <3

This is also on AO3!

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀) 

You have selected Revka Cadash to join your party!

Race: Dwarf 

Affiliation: Carta 

Gender: Female

Class: Rogue/Archer

Specialization: artificer

 Background

Revka Cordelia Cadash (born 8:95 Blessed) is a dwarven rogue and businesswoman. She is a companion and a potential romance option for a male human, dwarf, or qunari Inquisitor in Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Revka is a member of the many-membered Cadash Clan, and daughter of Brygida ‘Cookie’ Cadash and Artur ‘Archie’ Cadash. She has an older brother, Tavi, as well as numerous cousins, including Edric ‘Dasher’ Cadash, the head of the Ferelden Carta.  

Revka grew up in the company of her rambunctious cousins, and thus views them like brothers and sisters. It’s common for Cadashes to play tricks and pull pranks on each other as a way to show affection, as is evidenced in the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze.’ Some of Revka’s favorite pranks include spiking food with chili oil, switching people’s beverages, hiding belongings, and breaking into ‘private’ things such as journals, desk contents, or that box of cookies under the bed.  

Revka made a name for herself in the Carta accompanying her mother and cousins on patrol as a teen. Her deadly accuracy with a bow earned her the nickname ‘Hawkeye;’ her duties quickly expanded to include ‘problem-solving’ for the Carta, her solutions ranging from assassinations, blackmail, and negotiating contracts, to smuggling, and forgeries. Her successful business plans and battle tactics made her a valuable asset to the Carta.

In 9:13 Dragon, Revka married Iwan Feddic, a member of the merchant caste and a Cadash client in Ostwick. She helped her husband run his international shipping business, a venture she took over after his untimely death. When Dasher’s wife, Darya, died at the hands of the Orlesian Carta, Revka returned to Ferelden to help her cousin raise his five children, turning over the Ostwicker affairs to her brother, Tavi.

When the Cadashes eliminated a rival Carta branch in Kirkwall, they sent Artur Cadash to oversee operations in the city. 22-year-old Revka volunteered to accompany him, becoming her father’s second in command. Once arrived in Kirkwall, she helped him found Graywater Imports, an import/export company functioning as a storefront for both legal and illegal goods. She is a prominent member of the Cadash Carta branch in Kirkwall, often dealing with the Dwarven Merchant Guild and Varric Tethras.

Romance with Varric Tethras

Shortly after Revka arrived in Kirkwall, she met the young Varric Tethras. What began as mixing business with pleasure became a romantic entanglement that lasted until Tethras met the talented smith Bianca Davri, and broke off with Revka for Bianca. As much as Revka wanted to cut all ties with him, she maintained their business relationship… and an unrequited, one-sided love for the deshyr prince.

Involvement

A special mission at the War Table will unlock a quest at Kirkwall’s Docks, ‘Ten Shades of Graywater,’ in which the Inquisitor will receive a mysterious anonymous letter inviting them to the coast to discuss a purveyor/supplier contract for the Inquisition. The Inquisitor will arrive in a seemingly abandoned alley, but is ambushed by Coterie thugs. After the enemies are slain, Revka can be engaged in conversation.

If Varric is in the party, he will be surprised to see Revka. It’s revealed that they know each other through various business ventures, and are old acquaintances… although the weighted, bitter quality of Revka’s answers imply that their relationship is more complicated than Varric had said.

Upon further questioning, Revka pitches her business proposal: wholesale lyrium for the Inquisition’s mages or Templars, with access to the Cadash Family’s network of spies, businesses, and Carta members for Inquisition purposes. Her only condition is that her family obtains an industry monopoly, becoming the sole provider of lyrium for the Inquisition and Southern Thedas.

Revka can be found near the archery targets and training dummies in Haven. Once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold, Revka spends time training in the courtyard, in Skyhold’s main hall talking to Varric, or in the rookery, spoiling her messenger crow, Cipher, with treats. Dialogue options will reveal that she uses the bird keep in contact with her family and business associates.

 Approval and Romance

Revka can be romanced by a male Inquisitor of any race, and will jokingly comment on the height differences if romanced by a qunari, elf, or human. A Cadash inquisitor of either gender can unlock Carta-specific dialogue. Revka is guarded at first, giving out only generic information about her family, but with some persistent questioning the Inquisitor can wear her down. Depending on dialogue choices, the conversation can end with the Cadashes exchanging stories of ‘colorful’ family members and an approval gain.

   Revka takes a more pragmatic view on politics: she supports whoever pays the most, and sells lyrium to both the Templars and mages without discrimination. Upon learning the truth behind the events Redcliffe, however, she is dismayed to learn what her products enabled. Traveling to Redcliffe with Revka in the party will trigger her personal quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes.’ (this quest will trigger after the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold if the player sided with the Templars)

Revka approves of Inquisitors who are tenacious, calculating/far-sighted, and does what is best for the majority. She believes that the end justifies the mean, sanctioning death only as a last resort. She approves of bold plans, investigating all aspects of a quest before making a decision, and an Inquisitor who makes jokes (especially puns). Her sense of justice changes as the player completes more of her personal quests. She will approve of charitable acts and kindness as the game progresses and her personal beliefs change.

Revka’s romance can be initiated through the conventional method flirting and conversation. During the quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes,’ the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, leading to a kiss.

If Revka is not romanced by an Inquisitor, she can enter a relationship with Varric Tethras, but only if the Inquisitor assists in reconciling the two ex-lovers. Revka’s romantic past with Varric is hinted at in party banter if both are present, the two bickering with each other. This series of quests are available post-arrival at Skyhold, and has conditional dialogue for certain scenarios.

Revka gets along well with Dorian and Cassandra, bonding with them over their mutual love of books. It’s revealed that the three of them have an unofficial ‘book club’ going on, where they read various novels and comment on them in party banter. Revka also gets along well with Sera, bonding over pulling pranks in Haven and Skyhold. She makes a special bond with Leliana over nugs, owning a nug, herself.

Revka does not trust Solas from the moment she meets him, stating he knows too much, and is fond of talking without saying anything. She also suspects Blackwall of hiding something.

Companion Quests

Scales Fall from Her Eyes

After the events of Redcliffe, the Inquisitor will receive a note from Revka to meet her at the abandoned cabin outside Haven. Or, if the player sided with the Templars, this will trigger once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold. At the meeting, she will share her guilt and horror at what occurred. She questions her personal beliefs, and offers an apology with the promise to amend her family’s business practices. After this quest, Revka is more empathetic, approving of selfless and charitable acts, whereas before she’d disapprove.

At the end of the quest, the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, which can lead to a kiss, if desired.

Varric’s Quest in Valammar

Revka can be found beside the fireplace in the main hall, arguing with Varric over the contents of a particular letter. Upon investigation, the Inquisitor learns that Revka has broken into the locked box in which Varric keeps his correspondence, which she claims he’s done to her on multiple occasions over the years. He neither denies nor confirms the accusation. Revka demands to know why Varric is still in contact with ‘that woman,’ declares she won’t set foot in the main hall until his ‘guest’ is gone, and leaves, demanding the Inquisitor ‘talk some sodding sense into him.’

This leads into Varric’s quests with Bianca Davri, and some cutting comments from Bianca calling Revka a ‘sore loser.’ Varric comes to Revka’s defense, much to the Inquisitor’s surprise.

If the Inquisitor takes Revka to Valammar, she disapproves and will grouse all the way there, cutting snide remarks whenever Varric says something. She becomes jealous during Bianca and Varric’s reminiscing, interjecting and muttering. Her anger only grows as the quest proceeds, Revka calling out Bianca for her selfish, pragmatic methods and carelessness. Once Inquisitor concludes the quest, Revka declares she needs some air, and says she’ll meet the Inquisitor at the nearest inquisition camp later.

Upon arrival at the campsite, a scout reports that Revka never returned to camp. The Inquisitor must search the nearby area; eventually, they find Revka injured after being ambushed by bandits (the Inquisitor and the party must defeat them in order for the quest to proceed).

If Varric is present, he will be upset, demanding to know why she would be so foolish as to wander around alone. Revka half-jokes, claiming how surprised she is that Varric cares about her safety, after all these years. Varric’s expression visibly shifts. The Inquisitor arranges for her immediate medical care, but it’s too serious a wound for her to remain out in the field. After this point, Revka is unavailable as a companion until after the Inquisitor returns to Skyhold.

Once the Inquisitor returns, they will find Varric in the central courtyard, pacing outside the infirmary/medical tents. The medic will inform the Inquisitor that Varric hasn’t left since Revka’s arrival, but refuses to go inside to see her. Selecting Varric for a conversation will show he can’t bear to face her after what happened at Valammar; he feels especially guilty, knowing that she got hurt in an attempt to calm down after the encounter. The Inquisitor can remind Varric that his apology should be to Revka, not them. To trigger their romance, the Inquisitor can encourage him to visit Revka and share his feelings.

If the Inquisitor visits her instead, they will gain high approval with her, and further unlock romance scenes. After the visit in the tent, Revka will invite the Inquisitor to her quarters to personally ‘thank’ him. The Inquisitor can choose to accept her proposition, or refuse. Depending on choice, Revka may sleep with the Inquisitor. There is an option to break relations off with Revka the morning after.

 Revka’s Family

Revka’s war table missions mostly revolve around business opportunities she’s scouted out for the Inquisition throughout Thedas. Some of these are triggered through conversations with Revka in the rookery or throughout Skyhold. Completing quests from her cousin Jon in Tevinter will reveal Venatori camps on all game-maps, and will reduce the cooldown time on war table quests dealing with Venatori in general.

Revka’s cousin, Czibor, can be encountered in the Hissing Wastes hunting Venatori. Accompanying xem in eliminating a Venatori camp can lead to xir recruitment as an Inquisition agent.

The Trouble with Tavi

After the quest Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Revka will ask to meet the Inquisitor, requesting their assistance in a matter of life or death. She reveals that she’s received a letter from the Orlesian Carta, stating their displeasure at the Inquisitor’s choice of ruler, since they’re encroaching on the Orlesian Carta’s operations. They know Revka and the Cadash family has been helping the Inquisition, and threaten to exact revenge. She’d thought it an empty threat until her brother Tavi stopped replying to her letters. Upon investigation, it’s revealed that the Orlesian Carta kidnapped Tavi and have hid him at their base in Val Royeaux. Revka asks the Inquisitor for assistance.

Should the Inquisitor refuse Revka, she will greatly disapprove, stating that her brother’s more important that the Inquisitor’s ‘sodding principles,’ and leave the Inquisition to save him. She will not be available again until later in the game (post Adamant), when a war table mission will appear from Tavi in Ostwick, stating that Revka saved him and has returned to Kirkwall. She is still very offended, and is considering terminating the Cadash business contracts with the Inquisition. He urges the Inquisitor to please make her reconsider, citing the monetary gain the contracts net him but also Revka’s hurt (note: the letter will also reference a romanced Varric, asking the Inquisitor to enlist his help). The Inquisitor has the choice to make up with Revka and invite her back, or leave her be.  

Should the Inquisitor choose to help Revka, she will greatly approve and travel with the Inquisitor to Val Royeaux. Varric—regardless of the romance status—will also express interest in coming, but bringing him along is not required. Revka will be touched by his offer, regardless.

The meeting place mentioned in the Carta’s letter is an abandoned oil warehouse at the docks. Inside, the companions note the derelict condition of the place. The further they travel into the warehouse, following a trail of blood, the smell of rancid oil grows stronger. In a storeroom, there is a lone dead dwarf bearing a note, a man Revka recognizes as Tavi’s second in command in Ostwick. If the Inquisitor can find Tavi before time runs out, the note says, they’re welcome to him. As the Inquisitor reads the note aloud, a shadow darts in the periphery; the door slams shut, locking them in. A torch is thrown in through a window, setting the spilled oil on fire.

The Inquisitor may, through a series of dialogue choices, decide to rescue Tavi or leave him to his fate, opting to escape. If the Inquisitor chooses to escape and leave Tavi behind, Revka will greatly disapprove, running off to find him herself. If she is romanced by Varric, he will also greatly disapprove, stating that they should go after Revka. If the Inquisitor chooses this route, they can still save Revka and Tavi. Otherwise, the two Cadashes are not seen again, supposedly perishing in the fire. Revka will then be unavailable as a companion for the remainder of the game.  

The mission to save Tavi is time-sensitive, with several endings: should the Inquisitor take too long to escape or find Tavi, the warehouse will collapse on them, killing everyone. The timer, separated into quarters, is marked by sections of the roof collapsing: escaping by the third collapse will guarantee the party’s safety. Escaping post-third collapse can result in a 50% chance of the roof collapsing on the party: if this occurs, Revka pushes either her love interest or her brother out of the way of a falling beam, sacrificing herself for their safety. The mission then ends with the party barely escaping in time, mourning the loss of their lover and/or friend.

Pranks

Various pranks around Skyhold and Haven are attributed to Revka via ambient dialogue and party banter. If the approval rate is high enough, Inquisitor has an opportunity to join Revka in pulling pranks around Skyhold post-Adamant. She claims that she’d like to cheer everyone up, and would like the Inquisitor’s help.

Prank 1: sneak into the kitchen and switch the sugar out for salt in a cake.

Prank 2: paint a smiley face on the back of a sleeping Solas’s head

Prank 3: Rearrange Vivienne’s furniture

Prank 4: Distract Varric so she can steal his letters and replace them with scrambled riddles

A cutscene follows, showing a crowd standing at the base of a flagpole the morning after. Revka pushes through the crowd, gasping: someone has nailed her frilly blue panties to the pole. Varric is seen leaning against a column, howling with laughter. Revka pulls a face at him and scowls, but eventually ends up laughing, too. (Note: this is inspired by the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze’)

Trespasser

If Revka left or died during the events of the game, she will not be at the Winter Palace. Otherwise, there are several outcomes as to what she’s been doing…

If she romanced Varric, she returned to Kirkwall and is his lover

If she romanced the Inquisitor, she stayed alongside him as an Inquisition agent

If she did not romance anyone, she returned to Kirkwall

There is an option to marry Revka as a romanced Inquisitor, or urge her to marry Varric. If she marries, her brother Tavi and a recruited cousin Czibor may attend the ceremony.

 Combat comments

Kills an enemy

And stay dead!

Sodding nughumper, good riddance.        

Low Health

A little help would be lovely!

Oh shit. Not good.

Atredum na satolva! Toss me a health potion,     will you?

I’m too old for this…        

Low Health (Companions)

(The Inquisitor) Inquisitor!

(The Inquisitor - if romanced) Hold on, love!

(Varric, unromanced) Varric, you don’t look so     good...

(Varric, if romanced) Oh shit, don’t you dare die on     me.  

(Sera) Can someone check on Sera, please?

(Cassandra) Cass! Wait!

(Dorian) Dorian needs help!

Location comments

(Approaching Camp) Ahhh! Home sweet tent. 

(When collecting a shard) Ooh! I wonder how much it’d fetch at market.

Storm Coast

(sighs) They ought to call this place the ‘Soggy Coast,’ or the ‘Sopping Coast.’  My socks are soaked through to my boots.

Fallow Mire

The bugs will drain you dry before the undead will. Nug-humping bastards keep biting me…

Anyone else feel eyes watching you from the shadows?

Hinterlands

(Laughs) You know, back when I was running jobs for the Carta, I would get so lost here in the Hinterlands. Good to know things haven’t changed.

Don’t go near there; bears love that place. I learned that the hard way…

(at Witchwood) Ah, the Which-Witch-is-Which-Wood. Da would warn my brother and I about this place when were children.

The Hissing Wastes

I have sand in places I never knew existed.

Why my cousin had to choose to hunt Venatori in the ass-end of nowhere is beyond me…

Emprise du Lion

(scoffs) Snow. Snow. More sodding snow. I’m up to my tits in the stuff.

We don’t get snow like this in Kirkwall.

(on seeing a snowfleur) Ooh, look! Fluffy nugs! Can I take one home? Lucky could use a friend.

Emerald Graves

I…I heard the reason why this place is called the Emerald Graves. Such a tragic story.

I didn’t expect such greenery this far south, to be honest.

Exalted Plains

(shivers) You can feel the sorrow in this place.

 Companion Comments

Blackwall: “Rev? She’s a bit… unnerving, to be honest. Never smiles, glares holes in the side of your head. Offered to sell my carvings in Denerim, though: two sovereigns apiece. I swear she could sell water to a fish, that woman…”

Varric: “(Laughs) Hawkeye and I go way back. Don’t let her innocent face fool you: she’ll bleed you dry at Wicked Grace if you let her. Learned some of my best tricks from her—Don’t…erm. Don’t tell her that.”

OR

“Do you know how Hawkeye got her name? She shot a fly from across a room, once. Still don’t know how she did it.”

(If Inquisitor romanced Revka) Hawkeye’s a sweet girl, under all the Carta bullshit. I’m glad she has you; she deserves some happiness in her life.”

(If romances Revka): “I know they say don’t mix business with pleasure, but I get all the best discounts at Graywater Imports, now. You want anything? I think they’re running a sale on Antivan leather, at the moment.”

OR

“She’s probably upstairs feeding Cipher, knowing her. Or taking another order for Dagna; buys crafting supplies like candy, that one.”

Sera: “Rev’s fun, not all stuffy just ‘cause she’s someone back home, yeah? Takes jokes well. Can’t shoot for shit, though…”

Cole: Ash, steel, gray, withering inside at the sight of him smiling at her. Don’t look back, you’re not going that way; old coals don’t rekindle. It bleeds under her armor, but she can’t bandage the wound. I want to help. (if she romances Varric) but he helped her feel whole again. (if she romances the Inquisitor) but you helped her feel whole again.

Solas: “Is it wise to allow a known member of the Carta in our ranks? She actively seeks information and passes it along to her superiors.”

OR

“Do tell Mistress Cadash that if she breaks into my desk one more time, I shall ward the drawers to set her on fire. I can tolerate harmless pranks, but one thing I cannot abide is liars who snoop.”

Iron Bull: “They say still waters run deep, and she’s no exception. She might appear all laughs and smiles, but that woman knows exactly what she’s doing. Don’t underestimate her.”

Dorian: “Ah, my darling Rev: she has excellent taste in literature and baked goods.” (if she romances Varric) “And dwarven merchant princes.”

Cassandra: “I doubted her intentions, at first, but she has proven herself quite useful to the Inquisition. If you see her, tell her to return my book, will you? She ‘borrowed’ a week ago, and I want to know what happens to the poor Guard Captain.”

Vivienne: “Mistress Cadash would do quite well at court; she understands the Game surprisingly well for one who’s not a courtier. Too strong from the onset, however: the idea is to gain a person’s trust, not frighten them into submission.”

Cullen: “I knew Mistress Cadash back in Kirkwall; I’d frequent Graywater Imports often. They carry three kinds of hair pomade there, did you know?”

Josephine: “Mistress Cadash has many useful connections throughout Thedas; I’m pleased she offers them to us so freely. But then, we’re making her a rich woman with all the business contracts. Quid pro quo, as the Tevinters say.”

Leliana: “Rev is a shrewd woman, fierce and good at her craft. Did you know that she has a pet nug in Kirkwall? She always has something for the birds when she comes here; I like her.”

 Trivia

It’s said that the young Varric Tethras wrote his  first novel, The Dasher’s Men, about Edric Cadash, Revka’s cousin. The femme fatale who assists the hero of the tale, Revka, is heavily inspired by Varric’s lover at the time, Revka Cadash. An autographed copy of The Dasher’s Men can be found in the rookery, where Revka sits.  

Revka adores cookies, and has been trying to get the secret brandy snap recipe off of her cousin, Edric, for years. She has tried everything  from recipe book publisher scams to impersonating the Viscount of Kirkwall’s chef to obtain the recipe

In party banter, Revka will mention her nug, Lucky, which, according to the short story, she won  during a rather raucous evening of Wicked Grace.

When Revka isn’t reading, answering correspondence, or training, she enjoys baking, sewing, and embroidery.

Despite being an adept businesswoman, Revka is terrible at bookkeeping, and will often complain about it to Varric… sometimes enlisting him to do it, with a bribe of cookies.