#kill me and hang me on the pyre

[the-decapod]

I am the rizzless and the unrizzable.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

every so often i'll just be hanging out minding my own business, and then i'll remember the time i read some commentary about cql episode 41 that insisted jgy was using nhs as a human shield against nmj during his qi deviation. then i get mad and stomp around complaining about it to my lovely husband (who does not know/does not care about this nonsense but patiently listens to me anyway). at some point in the recent-ish past i could have sworn i wrote up a thing specifically detailing why nhs-as-crybaby-meat-shield doesn't track, but since i can't find my own post about it, i'm just going to make another, shorter one with some visual references.

here they are. (zanzan stop looking at the camera, you're supposed to be a professional.) i wish i could make gifsets because the stills don't quite show you what's happening. but imo this is a perfectly analogous moment to the 'beguiling boy' section of the novel, where nhs is fully prepared to throw himself onto the burning pyre of all his most treasured personal possessions after nmj has set them on fire. the only reason he doesn't burn more than his hands is because jgy is there to grab him and hold him back.

in this moment, nhs is struggling to get out of jgy's grip because he wants to go to his da-ge--the same da-ge who just finished hallucinating that jgy was pulling a mcu loki maneuver, and was wildly swinging baxia around trying to kill him. if jgy had let go of nhs in this moment, nhs would be badly injured--just like what happens in the novel during nmj's qi deviation--or worse.

[larluce]

Have you ever thought of the episode A Servant of Two Masters with a scene like Ella Enchanted when she breaks her curse? If you don't know the scene or the movie, that's okay because I have ✨a vision✨

Like that:

Merlin inside is dying because he's trying to kill Arthur and that's his worst nightmare, but Arthur decided that needs to be open and honest to Merlin and just tries to confess. I don't know how they got there, but just imagine that Arthur is talking sweetly to Merlin, holding his face with love and going to kiss him, but Merlin is crying because he's with a knife in his hand and trying to stab Arthur in the back. He breaks the curse, but Arthur saw the knife and assumes the worst.

I did watch that film! "A Servant of Two Masters" had the pontential to be very angsty indeed. But of course they decided to make it comedy. Not that I didn't like it anyways, but a more serious take like the one you are proposing would have been GOLD.

I recently saw a post similar to this, not quite, but kind of captures the same idea: LINK

But you inspired me. So I'll add this to your vision:

Just as the movie, Agravaine orders for Merlin to be arrested before he can explain anything, proclaiming he's in alliance with Morgana. However, Arthur, though still very hurt and confused, starts to analyse the situation. Why would Merlin try to kill him now? Is not like he didn't have better chances before. Has he done something to make Merlin change his mind about him? What did Morgana offer him? And why a knife? Merlin literally serves him his food, he could have poisoned him, find a more discret way to do it, he's a physician apprentice for gods sake! Was his servant this dumb? Then he remembers, Merlin was crying through all of it, and he seemed like he was trying to tell him something but couldn't. He thought it was due his emotional confession that his servant had tears in his eyes, but now... could it be that Merlin was forced to do it? Maybe Morgana threatened someone dear to him? Like his mother or Gaius. Or maybe he just can't bare the thought of yet other person betraying him, specially if is Merlin, that now he's making excuses for him? Doesn't matter, he can't execute Merlin, even when his uncle keeps insisting on it. So he just keeps him in the dungeons ad pospones his death sentence as much as he can.

Just as Arthur gathers the caurage to go visit Merlin to ask for answers, against his uncle's wishes of course, Gaius aproaches Arthur and tells him Merlin was under the fomorroh's control giving him the burned cut head of the snake as a prove. He explains he went to visit Merlin and Merlin gave him that and told him Morgana put it in his neck to control him when he was captured, but somehow he managed to break the spell. His uncle intervenes, telling him is all lies, that Gaius just wants to save the boy because he's dear to him and accuses him right then and there of being the traitor they were looking for. For Arthur, however, there was never a doubt, his Merlin is innocent, he never wanted to betray him. He almost cries of relief and, ignoring his uncle and his physician's dicussion, he runs to see Merlin.

His smile fades once he gets there though, cause Merlin, his Merlin, is hanging from a rope. Horrified and in full panic mode, he puts him down as quickly and as carefully as he can. He yells desperately for the guards to fetch Gaius and starts making CPR, but even when Gaius later appears to help it's too late. Merlin's dead and Arthur's whole world is put upside down.

There's a note Gaius finds hidden in Merlin's clothes, it says: "I'm sorry, Gaius. I couldn't fight it much longer, I could feel it, growing back again, trying to control me and I couldn't let it, not again. I would rather cut my own arms and legs and being burn in the pyre a thousen times than hurt Arthur, much less kill him. I won't go through that nightmare again. Please tell him I love him too, that i never mean to do it. I love him more than I love myself. But if he doesn't believe you, if he hates me forever, it's alright. I don't blame him, so don't blame him either. Keep protecting him, please. Specially from Agravaine. Loves you, Merlin".

Gaius shares this letter with Arthur and of course he breaks all over again, but then he asks, "Why did Merlin told you to protect me from my uncle, Gaius?". Gaius doesn't want to answer at first, but Arthur commands him and Gaius answers carefully "he believed he was the traitor, sire". Arthur responds after a pause "And you believe that too?". There's a silence before the physician says "I gave him the pergamine and the ink, he said he wanted to write a message for you that later I would deliver. I was a fool, I should have known..." he sighs. "But I wonder... where did he get the rope?". And that's when when all clicks to Arthur. Agravaine was the one insisting on killing Merlin inmediatly amd Merlin didn't have access to any rope. He confirms it when the guards tell him Agravaine visited Merlin once, they couldn't hear what the man was telling to the boy, but it sounded like he was threatening him.

Agravaine was the traitor, Agravaine gave Merlin the rope. Agravaine is the reason his Merlin now is gone.

Arthur goes to his uncle a sword in hand and demands answer with the blade on his throat. First he dinies it, but then he laughs. "You killed my sister. You and your father" he admits. Arthur's expression remains as a stone "What did you tell him?" Arthur demands. "I just offer him a less painful way to die". Arthur kills him, but finds no satisfaction. He's dead inside. His Merlin died thinking he hated him and he let him believe that. He didn't visit him for days after all, he didn't confront him inmediatly for answers, he let his uncle cloud his mind. This was his fault.

Arthur looks at his sword and puts the point of the blade on his heart. He's about to push the blade when suddenly the doors open and the sword flies from his hand. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" a familiar panic voice shouts at him and Arthur turns. A Merlin with golden eyes is running to him and then hugs him tightly. "Are you mad?!" Merlin's still scolding him, but Arthur's just watches him in shock. "Merlin" he's only capable to mumble.

It turn's out Merlin's magic saved him somehow. It just put his body on the verge of death enough to make the fomorroh believe that the body was uninhabitable so it left his body completely. His mortal body was now too weak though, so his only vital energy left is his magic. That's why his eyes are constanly gold now. It takes a while for Arthur to understand it. Specially the magic part, but honestly, he's far too happy and relief to have Merlin back that he can't be mad about Merlin lying about his magic. In fact, if anything, he's thankful for it, since it saved Merlin's life.

"But you didn't plan that, did you? You did actually try to kill yourself" he accusses however, still heartbroken at the fact.

"It was the only way I could think of-"

"Never, Merlin" he commands him very serious. "Never do that again"

"I can't promise you that"

"Then any harm you do to yourself, I'll do it to me"

"You can't do that!" the warlock shouts horrified. "You are the king! You have a kingdom-"

"Our kingdom, Merlin! We built it together and it's nothing without you either"

"I'm just a servant, an illegal warlock now. My life doesn't matter."

"Don't ever say that again!" Arthur holds Merlin fiercely. "Didn't I tell you're the most valuable person to me? The only person I could trust with my life" tears run down his eyes.

"But.. I lied to you. I even tried to kill you"

"Lie to me then, kill me. You have my permission"

"Arthur-"

"No, I just got I glimse of what a life without you would be and I won't live it again. Not for a second. I can't lose you again".

"I can't lose you either". Merlin cries too. "My magic, everything I am, is yours. It has always been yours". Arthur caresses his cheek.

"Then let me take care of what it's mine"

Between tears, they kiss. Is not really tender or passionate, but pure necessity for the other.

"I'm sorry" Merlin snifs separating the kiss "Gods! My eyes won't stop shining" he says embarrasssed and tries to cover them.

"Don't" Arthur says while he uncovers his eyes gently. "They're beautiful" Merlin smiles but then sighs, sadly.

"The rest won't think the same"

"You don't have to worry about that"

Arthur gives Merlin a royal pardon so he's the 'only legal sorcerer' unless until he can make magic legal again completely. Gwen and the knights accept him inmediatly. The rest are wary at first but eventually they accept him too, when they realise he's the same clumsy servant they always knew. As Merlin recovers from his near death experience, his eyes glow less, but Arthur loves to see Merlin's eyes turn gold everytime.

Aaaand that's all I got. My imagination can't do much.

[allgremlinart]

whenever I get married in Stardew its like the same as when I get a dog or cat in Minecraft I can barely play the game anymore because I get too stressed out about my responsibility for the health, safety, and happiness of these simulated beings what if my dog gets killed by a creeper I would have to build myself a funeral pyre. what if I dont give my wife lettuce on Tuesday and she hangs herself. psychiatrists love me

[marcobodtlives]

AoT Character Deaths and How They Made Me Cry:

Marco (Reiner/Bertholdt POV): 9/10 lost my fucking mind, frothing at the mouth, sobbing, angry tears. He didn’t deserve that. He just wanted to talk. Also cried when Jean saw him by the pyre and before deciding to side with the Scouts not Jaegerists. And when Jean kissed his hand before fighting the female titan. And when Jean led all the survivors to kill the turned government officials after the rumbling began because it reminded me of when Marco told him he would make a great leader. Also cried when he wasn’t in the smoke at the ending.

Armin: 10/10 tried so hard not to sob, throat had a large lump, head was throbbing, couldn’t breathe properly. Didn’t think he was gonna come back from it and considered if the show would still feel the same without him.

Ymir: 4/10 unfortunately overshadowed by the fact that I was still connecting a lot of plot points and my brain hurt. I did tear up as Historia read the love letter. Also teared up a little when Reiner sniffed the stupid letter at the very end of the show, because it reminded me of Ymir and her first letter.

Sasha: 7/10 saw it coming, knew it in my heart and bones, but ultimately understood why her character was killed (from a narrative perspective). Teared up but was mostly in shock. Thought I could handle it, then several episodes later I saw the shot of Gabi looking like Sasha from behind and didn’t feel the tears till my cheeks were soaked in them. Cried quite hard when she was in the smoke and saw the look on Connie and Jean’s faces as they watched her disappear.

Colt: 6/10 (I know it wasn’t a major death but come on) he just wanted his broTHER TO BE OKAY COME ON - pour some (tears) out for ‘em.

Floch: 4/10 first watch I won’t lie I thought ‘finally, jesus’ but on the second watch I considered it more and felt a bit bad for him as he said his last words to Jean. He died for a cause in his heart, even if it was a cause birthed by revenge. Felt sad when I saw the building collapse in on his body, knowing he died so far from home. I’m still mad about how he treated Armin and Jean though, so not many tears.

Hange: 10/10 music moved me so hard I’ve never needed more tissues in my life. Sobbed as Hange fell, but had a smile on my face as they looked at the colossals in wonderment. Proud of them, wished it didn’t have to end this way.

Jean and Connie (transformation): 100/10 not knowing they survived I absolutely lost the plot. I was furious and sobbing. They deserved to see a future where their lives weren’t threatened. Felt awful inside. Tears flowing down my cheeks and neck. Pained. Raw, open sobs. Even more tears when I realised they were okay.

Eren: 7/10 I knew it was coming. I knew it would happen from the moment he left the Scouts in Marley. I was already crying over Jean and Connie at this point so it’s hard to tell how many tears were for Eren, but I was mostly proud of Mikasa and those were the cause of the tears.

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part twenty-four

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral, angst

el's thoughts: this was a fun part to write!! we see a little more of what y/n's life before the story started did to her, and more interactions with the crows :) i hope y'all enjoy it

main masterlist // series masterlist

Y/N could hear Nina yammering to Inej somewhere behind her, trying to teach her Fjerdan words. “No, Hring-kaaalle. You have to hang on the last syllable a bit.”

“Hringalah?” tried Inej.

“Better but- here, it’s like Kerch is a gazelle. It hops from word to word,” she pantomimed. “Fjerdan is like gulls, all swoops and dives.” Her hands became birds riding the currents in the air. 

Y/N saw Matthias look back past her to stare at Nina and quickly cleared his throat, turning back to face forward. The group was eager to get to their next stop and rest their feet, all of them silently grumbling about the bitter cold. 

Matthias, ahead of them, threw his arm out as if to stop them from contiuning forward. “Stop! You don’t want to-”

But it was too late. Nina clapped her hands over her mouth. Inej made some kind of warding sign in the air. Jesper shook his head and Wylan gagged. Kaz stood like a stone, his expression inscrutable. 

Y/N. Y/N had the most heartbreaking reaction caused only by silence. She stared with a cold stare, her mind racing through all the faces of the soldiers under her command. Those who were captured and tortured. Those who were caught and taken, never seen or heard from again. The people who placed their trust in her and this is where she had led them to.

The pyre had been made on a bluff. Whoever was responsible had tried to build the fire in teh shelter of a rock outcropping, but it hadn’t been enough to keep the flames from dying out in the wind. Three stakes had been driven into the icy ground, and three charred bodies were bound to them, their blackened, cracked skin still smoldering.

“Ghezen,” Wylan swore. “What is this?”

“This. This is what Fjerdans do to Grisha,” Y/N said. Her face was slack, and her eyes were ablaze.

“It’s what criminals do,” said Matthias. “The pyres have been illegal since-”

Y/N whirled on him and shoved his chest hard, pointing her finger at him threateningly. “Don’t you dare,” she seethes, fury burning like a halo around her. “Tell me the last time someone was prosecuted for putting a Grisha to the flames. Do you even call it murder when you put down dogs?”

“Y/N-”

“Do you have a different name for killing when you wear a uniform to do it?”

They heard it then– a moan, like a creaking wind.

“Saints,” Jesper said. “One of them is still alive.”

The sound came again, thin and keening, from the black hulk of the body on the far right. It was impossible to tell it the shape was male or female. Its hair had burned away, its clothing fused to its limbs. Black flakes of skin had peeled away in places, showing raw flesh.

A sob tore from Nina’s throat. She raised her hands but she was shaking too badly to use her power to end the creature’s suffering. She turned her tear-filled eyes to the others. “I… Please, someone…”

Jesper had brought out his gun but Y/N reached out to push his hand down. “Too loud.” Her voice came out tense and overflowed with emotion.

She pulled out a knife she had tucked into her side and walked forward. She pulled her shoulders back and sucked in a deep breath, the cold threatening to choke her. She knelt before the burnt figure and placed her hand under their head. 

“Lieutenant.” 

Her eyes widened as they spoke, their voice hoarse and cracking, barely able to be heard. 

“Lieutenant, please… Hurts.”

Y/N sobbed silently and held them tighter. “I’m so sorry. I failed you.” She shifted them so she could hold the knife to their neck. “May the Saints recieve you, soldier.” Within seconds she had slit their throat and ended their suffering. She muttered a quick prayer over them and quickly composed herself, brushing the snow off her clothes and took another deep breath. With every breath a wave of panic washed over her with the fear of the air freezing her lungs. She turned back to the group and walked over. She didn’t realize that the wind had carried their voices and the group of six before her heard everything. 

“Let’s not waste more time.”

“Thank you,” Nina choked out. She plunged ahead over the frozen ground, following the shape of the path through the snow. She was weeping, stumbling over the terrain. Matthias followed. 

“Nina, you mustn’t stray from the group-”

“That’s what you’re going back to, Helvar,” she said harshly. “That’s the country you long to serve. Does it make you proud?”

“I’ve never sent a Grisha to the pyre. Grisha are given a fair trial-”

“Then why has a Grisha never been found innocent at the end of your supposedly fair trials?”

“I-”

“Because our crime is existing. Our crime is what we are.”

Y/N mouthed the words with Nina. All second army Grisha knew the words. It’s what had been repeated to them when they talked about the outside countries. The people who hunted Grisha. Their only fault was existing and they had to deal with it. Nothing could change the way the world saw them, so why fight it. Embrace it and be prepared.

Matthias went quiet for a moment before he spoke. “Nina, had it ever occurred to you that maybe… you weren’t meant to exist?”

And that was it. Y/N snapped. Her eyes glinted with fire as she took a step toward the Fjerdan and stood inbetween the pair. “Maybe you’re the ones who shouldn’t exist, Helvar. Weak and soft, with your short lives and your sad little prejudices. You worship wood sprites and ice sprites who can’t be bothered to show themselves, but you see real power, and you can’t wait to stamp it out.”

“Don’t mock what you don’t understand.” He almost growled as he towered over her.

“My mockery offends you? My people would welcome your laughter in place of this barbarity.” A look of supreme satisfaction crossed her face. “Ravka is rebuilding. So is the second army, and when I get back, you better hope we give you the fair trial you deserve. We will put the druskelle in shackles and make them stand to hear their crimes enumerated so the world will have an accounting of your evils.”

“If you’re so desprate to see Ravka rise, why aren’t you there now?”

Y/N felt as if he had slapped her across the face. Her eyes that were burning aglow now dulled and turned cold. “I’m here to make sure this drug doesn’t get into the wrong hands. To keep our world from getting worse and falling more than it already has.” A spiteful rage bubbled in her chest as she spoke her next words. “I want you to have your pardon, Helvar. I want you to be here when the second army marches north and overruns every inch of this wasteland. I hope we’ll burn your fields and salt the earth. I hope we send your friends and your family to the pyre.”

“They already did, Y/N. My mother, my father, my baby sister. Inferni soldiers, you precious, persecuted Grisha, burned our village to the ground. I have nothing left to lose.”

Y/N’s laugh was bitter and short. “Maybe your stay in Hellgate was too short, Helvar. There is always more to lose.”

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 1 - Side A

Galahad art credit @spiralstain

Propaganda below ⬇️

Junk Rat

I wish his Catholicism meant if he got killed in game it would take him 3 days to respawn

Galahad

OKAY SO . "Galahad (played by Jonny d'Ville): a travelling preacher/religious zealot who is told to sit in the Siege Seat by Merlin, and discovers the fact that Fort Galfridian is falling into the star Avalon. He sparks the quest for the GRAIL, and willingly goes to his death to overcome its final defences." DUDE SAT IN THE CHAIR THAT IS KNOWN FOR KILLING PEOPLE BECAUSE HIS CRUSH [MERLIN] [AKA HANGED MAN] [AKA DRUMBOT BRIAN] TOLD HIM TO . SORRY I THINK THATS REALLY FUNNY. he found out the whole shitshow of a spacestation he lived on was gonna fall into the sun and he went around yelling about it incomprehensibly and got fucking gunned down trying to get the GRAIL and just kept going through the gunfire because of how Religious [tm] he was . he died . in once and future king it just "galahad's blind faith" . also hellfire goes really hard . he is the definition of going insane with the knowledge of the universe . also jonny dville played him thats bonus points

There was a prophet. The prophet gave three separate people three separate instructions. 1. Stop being racist 2. Love your son 3. Sit in the Chair That Makes People Insane Galahad received number three. He was the only one who followed the instructions. He sat in the Chair That Makes People Insane, saw the sun for the first time, and immediately starts preaching about how everyone will burn in hellfire

i dont know anything about this guy i just wanna help make Kai happy please dont like not count my submission just because i dont know anythinf except for the Kills You Chair im trying my best im sorry 😭

his themesong is called hellfire and it slaps btw go listen to it. anyways he is my blorbo blingus he is Deeply unwell i could fix him but also whatever is wrong with him is incredibly fascinating to watch. a robot dude who's been hanging from the gallows since forever told him 'hey go sit in the Chair That Kills People Who Sit In It' and he was like 'I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE LIFE'. the getting-his-brain-fried thing definitely made him worse but he was also clearly kind of fucked up before that. his death is probably one of my favorite scenes in any mechs album. maybe just straight up my favorite. ahem. SAY WHAT YOU WILL ABOUT FAITH, BUT IT CAN HAVE POWERFUL EFFECTS ON THOSE THAT HAVE IT. IT CAN KEEP YOU FROM FALTERING AS THE BULLETS START TO SLAM INTO YOU. IT CAN KEEP YOU WALKING AS YOU LEGS ARE SHOT TO BLOODY STUMPS. IT CAN KEEP YOU LAUGHING AS YOUR LUNGS ARE FILLED WITH SHRAPNEL AND LEAD. IT CAN KEEP YOU SMILING AS HALF YOUR FACE IS BLOWN AWAY. IT CAN KEEP A MAN LIKE GALAHAD STANDING TALL UNTIL THE GUNS. CLICKED. DRY. anyways go listen to high noon over camelot <3

my friends my people my... flock I HAVE HAD A VISION!! A VAST FIERY ORB FLOATIN IN AN ENDLESS VOID!! and there so small so feagile US!!! BUT FALLIN FALLIN FALLIN INTO THE FLAMES!!! your soul is connected to the world youre in youre draggin it down with the weight of your sin surrounded by temptation and y'just give in we're fallin into the flames OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HEEEEELLLLLLFIIIRE YOUR BROW BECOMES SLICK AS YOU PERSPIRE YOU THINK YOURE THIRSTY NOW WAIT TIL IT GETS DRIER AND YA FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SICK AND SINFUL LIES WILL BUILD A FUNERAL PYRE YOUR PERVERSION SCARS THE STATION SON ITS GONAN FRY HER AND WE ALLLLLL FALL INTO THE FLAMES... oh i have SEEN DAMNATION MY BROTHERS!! ive FELT its searing heat within my VERY BONES !!!!!!! but there is a way me be saved... "OH TELL US FATHER GALAHAD, TELL US" I HEAR YOU CRY "IS IT PIETY IS IT PURITY IS IT VIRTUE?" NO!!! ONLY WAY TO SAVE US NOW IS THE HOLY GRAIL ITSELF... HAHAHAHAHHAAAA.... WELL THAT ORB OF DAMNATION MAKES THE SUN SEEM PALE YOURE QUITE CORRECT TO QUIVER YOU ARE RIGHT TO QUAIL THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE US IS TO FIND THAT GRAIL OR WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SKIN STARTS TO SIZZLE AS YOU EXPIRE YOU CLAIM TO BE VIRTUOUS BUT YOURE A LIAR !!!!! AND YOU FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES ... i said HEEEELLLLFIIIIRE HEEEEEEEELLLLFIRE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLFIIIIIREEE HEEEEEEELLLLLLFIIIIIIRE OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE AT THE HEART OF THAT INFERNO THAT WILL NEVER TIRE IVE SEE THE END IS NIGH AND DAMNATIONS NIGHER OH WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES

Ok i know this is kind of a shot in the dark because hes so obscure but i need to speak my truth. Hes so insane. The narrator calls him a “holy roller.” He has a vision which is meant to tell him that the place they live is LITERALLY going to get burnt to a crisp because its slowly falling into the sun. But hes like Oh my god i just had a vision of hell i need to save everyone from eternal damnation. And he happily gets killed and turned into a pile of slop because he believes its what he was “chosen to do” he quite literally dies for his religion. Hes also quite funny. I like him. Thank you

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Something I wrote yesterday for a chronic pain werewolf Merlin fic sitting in one of my doom folders

(I’ve been through and checked spellings a bit but please don’t be too harsh.)

—

Arthur hadn’t said anything yet, he realised.

“You’ve been through so much,” the prince murmured, astonished. His voice sounded so soft and genuine and reassuring. Merlin had heard that same voice when he spoke to people in the aftermath of attacks. “I promise you, I’m going to do everything to make sure you never have to deal with anything like that again.”

Merlin shook his head again, “You can’t promise that. I’m a werewolf in Camelot.”

“It won’t be like this forever,” Arthur tells him and Merlin hangs onto it like a prayer. A breath of destiny and hope for the future where tomorrow won’t taste of dread and ash from pyres.

Merlin doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to it, so instead he turns his hand over and holds onto Arthur. The promise seems so tangible here, in his room after the most terrifying morning he’d ever experienced, second only to waking up after being bitten or waiting to transform the first time after.

“Why did you come to Camelot?” Arthur asked quietly.

Merlin huffed, “Will.” His eyes stung. For all he loved his friend, Will had almost gotten him killed so many times. “He got drunk while he was visiting the capital to petition Cenred to help our supplies over winter, Cenred told him no and he said his angry werewolf friend would rip them all to pieces for being complicit in tyranny. A week later, we had knights searching the village. It was either finding myself on a pyre for sure or taking my chances. So I took my chances.”

“But why Camelot of all places?” Arthur asked, his hands were still cradling Merlin’s, thumbs tracing the callous scars Merlin had collected over his lifetime.

Merlin shrugged, “I kept getting hurt. Badly. Then I woke up with this,” he drew one of his hands back and traced a scar on his neck, jagged lines and raised pale silvery skin, usually covered by his neckerchief. Arthur’s eyes followed the movement, then tore away to look at Merlin’s face. “I thought I was dead for sure, I managed to find a patch of yarrow to slow the bleeding and I tore my shirt for bandages, then healed what I could remember, but it wasn’t safe anymore. She sent me to Camelot because Gaius already knew, she hoped he could teach me how to be a physician and take care of me until I figured it out myself. I can set bones and dislocations, stop bleeding, stitch wounds, I’m learning, but it’s… still scary.” He confessed, stomach twisting.

He felt a bitter sense of grief creep up on him. The life he could’ve had if he wasn’t a monster.

“I’ll take care of you, too.” Arthur whispered like a vow, breaking Merlin free of a spiral before he’d even taken the first step. “I know sorry won’t make anything better so I won’t say that,” his hand lifted and traced the scar at Merlin’s neck, then Arthur tenderly cupped his jaw, thumb rubbing over what felt like a faint bruise on his cheekbone. Their eyes met, and it felt like sparks attempting to fly between them. Arthur shook his head, looking away and taking a breath, then said “I was never good at words, but I’m going to prove that things can be better. And hopefully by then, I’ll have found the right words to tell you you’re too important to me to ever lose you to this. Hopefully by then I’ll be able to tell you that as long as I draw breath, you’re never going to go through anything alone. And if I haven’t found the words, then I’ll prove it in my actions.”

Arthur was looking at him again, holding his hands and cupping his cheek, eyes looking deep into Merlin’s soul like he could uncover every detail or insecurity or fear and detach it from the tentative thing he hesitantly labelled hope. Merlin leaned forward, closing his eyes against the hot tears behind his eyes and pressed his forehead to Arthur’s, breathing him in.

Arthur’s hand never came away from his face, gently caressing the bruised skin. Merlin’s back was red hot under the uncomfortable fabric of his oldest and softest tunic. Leaning forward as he was did him no favours, but he refused to pull away. Refused to lose this because of the wolf like so many other parts of his life.

—

I hate that the first four chapters of this are crap cos this bit could actually be halfway decent with a few edits.

Anyway

[unknownarmageddon]

what if most love comes around second hand what if its a starving age what if you better take what you can

what if booze hangs limply on our rental suits what if we're fires we're burning bright what if we're breaking bottles and starting fights what if the evening has other plans what if they pull up with two more vans

what if there's hotel complaints and grievances raised in that kind of love what if there's damage ensued and tabloid news in that kind of love

what if i could find you in any life what if heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i what if i would not change it each time

what if when the meanings gone, there is clarity what if the reason comes on the common tongue of your loving me

what if i was born as a blackthorn tree what if i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you what if i fuel the pyre of your enemies

what if I'm scum what if I'm waste what if i'm what you want

what if you can call me what you like as long as you call me what if you could kiss the skin from my lips what if it makes you feel good what if i'm not sure if you want it what if i'm not sure if you need me too what if you can taste the beer on every guy who talks to you what if i'm not paranoid what if i'm a realist what if i know you're gonna kill me

what if i could wait here, by the west pier what if i watch the flotsam float, slowly disappear what if its oh, so happy, oh, oh, so happy what if only you knew just how much better things could be

what if you dont make a sound what if its all so incredibly loud what if im breaking down what if heartbreak was never so loud

what if we kiss like real people do

what if they find us in a week what if i'd be home with you what if we lay here for years or for hours what if we become the flowers what if two corpses we were

what if you were like an angel to me what if i could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, I still carry for you what if i'd walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowin' you

what if when you move, i can recall something thats gone from me what if when you move, im put in awe of something so flawed and free what if you've nothin left to prove and nothin to lose

what if i'd be appalled if i ever saw you try to be a saint what i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave

what if with you i got to be young and happy

what if you were the sunshine of my lifetime what if every lover's got a little dagger in their hand what if im sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse what if there's nowhere left for us to go but heaven

what if some part of me came alive the first time you called me baby what if some part of stayed alive each time you called me baby what if some part of me must've died the final time you called me baby

what if all things end what if just knowing that everything will end should not change our plans what if we begin again what if I have never known a silence like the one fallen here what if i've never watched my future darken in a single tear

what if we were young again what if we're just two slow dancers, last ones out

what if i copy paste the entire of To Noise Making (Sing) by Hozier

what if they simply just are, geddon, what if they simply just are, and that's all they ever need to be

Chair I think you’re legitimately going to kill me

[star-girl69]

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: so sorry for the lack of updates! end of the year exams have been killing me. this next week is crazy, but i hope to write when i can! i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: blood, animal death, mentions of cannibalism, dead bodies, bones, swearing, death, grief, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Four - Between

Chapter Twenty Four - Between

—-

1996-

In the morning, the only thing left on the pyre is bones.

Natalie sits on the edge of the porch, staring at the one bony hand hanging off the altar of sticks- melted snow running down her bones, dark with ash and blood, falling down to the bright white snow.

You pace along the porch, thinking about the feeling of your stomach being full, thinking about when you used to be so normal. You didn’t have visions of antlers dripping with blood, you didn’t hike through the wilderness in freezing temperatures- and you didn’t eat people.

Eventually, your legs ache, and you sit down next to her. She doesn’t look up at you, and you don’t look at her, not even when you speak.

“We were just hungry.” You dig your fingers into your palms. “We were just hungry.”

“Yeah. Yeah. We were… we were just hungry.” She whispers, like she’s trying out the word, making sure it fits, a good enough label to slap on what you did, instead of calling it what it is.

The door opens behind you, and you expect someone else has come to stand silently, look at the dead body, remember what all of you had done.

Even now, you can’t stop yourself from trying to explain it away. Even though… she deserves that, doesn’t she? She deserves for you to admit it.

But you can’t.

You sit there in silence for a moment longer, until you finally have to look away, deciding that it’s better to pretend it’s not even there. You stare at the snow, instead, but even under your gaze- you swear it has a red tint.

“What the fuck?” someone whispers. They take a step forward. “What the fuck is this?”

When you look over, Taissa has that same look of horror on her face you’ve come to know all too well.

You aren’t even sure why she’s freaking out so badly at first, but then she starts running towards the body, and Natalie jumps up first, trying to grab her, keep her away from the bones.

“Dont, don’t, don’t, don’t-”

“No! What happened to Jackie?!”

She screams, and the word hurts, the name hurts.

“Is that Jackie?! Fuck, what happened?!”

She keeps screaming and screeching, and you lean down and close your eyes, putting your hands over your ears, but you can still hear her. You can still hear the door opening, the creak of footsteps on the porch, the crunch in the snow, Van shouting Tai’s name.

“Something- something, something ate her,” Taissa cries, panting, and you want to cry too- because how could you do this?

“Taissa!” Van yells, and it goes silent for a second. “We ate her.”

“No, I… I didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

“What are you talking about?!”

Someone places their hands over yours, and you look up and it’s just Natalie. If you look into her eyes like this, you can’t see the tainted snow, the burned altar, the bones. You stand up and press your face into her shoulder. You wrap your arms around her, and she presses her hands over your ears- but you can still hear them, you can still hear all of it.

“You were sitting right next to me!” Van keeps yelling. “Right next to me!”

“Was I asleep? Was I asleep?” Taissa keeps asking, her voice shaking-

“But you talked to me. You were looking right at me. You really don’t remember?”

Taissa only breathes so loudly even you can hear it, muttering the word no once.

“Tai… you ate her face.”

She coughs, and retches into the snow, until her panting turns into words-

“No. No. No-” and slowly, it turns into screaming.

—-

“I guess… no one wants breakfast.”

Everyone stops and looks to Mari, who only shrugs.

“I don’t think anyone’s hungry,” Lottie says.

“We should move her,” Natalie says. And you turn towards the window, dusty and fogged up, but you can still make out the dark shape of the pyre and the bones. You take a deep breath and look away.

“Where?” Travis asks. “We will can’t bury her.”

“I’ll take her body, or her remains, or… whatever to the plane, and… she can be buried with the others when the ground thaws.” You look around, but no one really wants to listen. “Shauna?”

“Well, at least if you bury her out there, it’ll look like she died with the others.” You look over at Coach Ben, who sits on the other bench, under the other window, staring openly at the darkness outside. His eyes have dark circles under them, his hair is messy, and he has that same horrified look on his face.

“…whatever you think is best,” Shauna says after a moment.

—-

Natalie piles the bones into an old bag you had found at the cabin, and you would have helped- if you could have forced yourself to, and if Natalie hadn’t told you that it was okay.

So, you sit on the logs near the campfire you use during the day, listening to the sound of the bones, wishing you could go back to a few days ago. You were freezing and miserable, dying for Javi’s memory, but at least you hadn’t seen what you have. At least you hadn’t done what you’ve done.

Even now, there’s this fullness, the comfortable feeling in your stomach- you’re full. And it feels amazing. But you can’t handle remembering how you got to this point.

The snow crunches under Lottie’s boots as she walks over to Nat, tensions between the two of them still burning hot, Javi and Travis, Travis and Javi-

And part of you thinks it because of Doomcoming. Not only because of what almost happened, but of what Lottie said.

We’ll all see it like her soon.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Lottie says, crouching down and holding out a mug to Nat. “And it’s not easy.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles, bones clattering.

“Here.” Natalie sighs, and you hear more bones clattering. “I just want you to be safe,” Lottie says, incredulously.

“Mhm. Sure you do.”

Lottie stands up and walks away, and don’t look up until you hear the sounds of the bones being thrown together, the bag slinging over her shoulder.

“Do you want me to come?” you whisper as Natalie stands up, and she looks over at Lottie, but ultimately shakes her head. “Are you sure?”

You step forward and adjust her headband, and she lets out a small sigh.

“Yeah. ‘M fine.”

You stare at her for a moment longer, but you step back after a moment, realizing she wants to be alone, and she slings the gun over her shoulder.

After a moment, she turns back to you and reaches for your wrist, and you look up, and she just looks at you for a second.

“I’ll be waiting,” you say. And she hesitates, but nods. She doesn’t say goodbye, and you don’t either, watching her disappear into the pines, the sound of snow crunching under her boots fading away.

—-

The baby showers happens the next day.

You can’t help but think it feels like something she would have done. She was always trying to cheer everyone up, keep you a little normal, and what did you do to her?

The doll in your hands is precariously made, grasses and remnants of your Doomcoming flower crown weaved together with sticks you had collected, but it’s in the rough shape of a person.

You can’t help but lean against Natalie’s shoulder, bouncing the doll up her arm, humming to yourself while you wait for the presents to start.

Shauna sits in the rocking chair as the woman of the hour, a flower crown in her hair, her stomach round and covered by a thick blanket.

Van hands Shauna her gift, something made of newspaper, it seems, bended together-

“What is it?” Shauna frowns.

“It’s a changing teepee,” Van sighs. “To catch the pee. If it’s a boy. I saw one at a Party Emporium once.” She looks down, obviously a little awkward.

“I don’t get it,” Mari says.

“Uh, no, yeah, it’s good thinking,” Shauna says. “Thanks Van.”

“Yeah,” she mutters, and you get to your knees, holding out the small doll to Shauna.

“It’s… more for the baby, but…”

She looks down and smiles.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she says after a moment. And you smile, sitting back down while Shauna carefully places the doll on top of her bump.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Van says, her voice a pitch higher, when you sit back down next to Natalie. “Thanks for making my gift looking even stupid than it already was.”

You smile and roll her eyes, and Van and Tai laugh, Tai trying to reassure her that it was a practical gift, and Nat grabs your hand.

Misty stands up next.

“For my gift, I would like to perform a monologue from Steel Magnolias.”

You lean your head back against the fireplace, and Natalie shares at look with Tai and Van, but Crystal drowns out any confusion with her loud clapping, and Misty climbs onto the bench.

She takes a deep breath, and Crystal holds out her hands.

“We turned off the machines. Drum left. He couldn’t take it. Jackson left.”

A few of the girls giggle, and you try not too, keeping your eyes on Misty- and you have to give it to her, she turns into a different person.

“I find it amusing. Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something.” She continues, ignoring the girls, pausing for a moment- dramatic effect you can’t help but smile at. “I was there when that beautiful creature drifted into my life. And I was there when she drifted out. It was the most precious moment of my life-”

She starts crying.

“Did she really choose a scene about a dead daughter?” Taissa whispers the three of you, all gathered in a small corner of the cabin.

“Are you surprised?” Nat whispers back.

“I mean, she’s kinda good, right?” everyone shoots you a disapproving look, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m fine!” Misty shouts. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine! I can job all the way to Texas and back, but my daughter can’t. She never could! Oh, God, I’m so mad…”

Tears pour down her face, her voice taking on a slight accent, and it feels like you’re really somewhere else for a moment.

“All that baby will ever know is how wonderful his mother was. He will never know what she went through for him. Oh, God, I wanna know why! Why?! God, I wish I could understand. No, no. Mm-mm. No. It’s not supposed to happen this way. I’m… I was supposed to go first. I was always supposed to go first. I don’t think I can do this, I just… I want to hit somebody until they feel as bad as I do. I just- God, I wanna hit them. I want to- to hit something. I wanna hit it hard!”

She lets out a sharp breath.

Crystal raises her hands into the air and let’s out a cheer. Misty puts her glasses back on, and after a moment, everyone else starts clapping too. Even Tai, even Van, and when you send her a look- Nat does too.

Misty smiles down at everyone, breathing into the sound of the the clapping and the cheering. Into everyone adoring her, for just a moment.

Lottie stands up after the cheering had died down, smiling slightly, handing Shauna and small blanket.

“So he doesn’t get cold,” she whispers.

“Thank you, Lottie,” Shauna says, holding out the pretty blanket, white with a few deigns, patchwork. That’s until she moves it just so- and the symbol has been drawn into it. “I love it.”

“Is this supposed to be funny or something? I-I mean…” Nat says, and Shauna looks around the blanket, until she finds the symbol.

“No,” Lottie says, obviously genuinely confused.

“Then why would you put that creepy symbol on a baby blanket?” she stands, and you’re left sitting on the floor, watching as she throws her hands out, scoffing. “Or don’t you remember how we found it all round a dead guy’s fucking corpse?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Lottie mutters, her fingers twisting together. “But… I think he was using it as protection.”

“He died, Lottie!”

“Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t mean it’s evil!”

“Give me that-” Nat mutters, grabbing the blanket from Shauna.

“It was a gift!” Mari yells, taking it from her and giving it back to Shauna.

“We still don’t know exactly what it is,” Misty chimes in.

“And doesn’t her baby deserve protection?” Akilah asks.

Natalie turns around and throws her hands up in the air, scoffing.

“Nat,” you mutter, standing up and reaching for her. She barely has the chance to look up at you.

“Well, I trust Lottie,” Mari says, and you shoot her a look. It’s no secret that cliques have formed in the cabin- but everything is all becoming too much. This is life or death. Not high school. For now, these people and this cabin is all you have.

“Oh, yeah, news flash!” Nat yells.

“So do I,” Misty says.

“Me, too. She knows things. We’ve all seen it,” Akilah says.

“She’s not God, you guys,” Tai scoffs.

“No one is saying that,” Van groans, rubbing her hands into her temples.

“Nat,” you whisper, grabbing her wrist, and she looks up at you. “Stop.”

She scoffs. “Don’t tell me you believe this shit, huh?”

You swallow, trying to choose your words carefully, feeling like you’re burning under her stare like you’re always do.

“I… believe that there are things we can’t explain.”

She stares at you, wide eyed, incredulous.

“Just- if it makes them feel better, let them haul around that weird ass symbol.”

“Oh, my God, Shauna,” Misty breathes, and you turn around to find blood dripping from her nose. A few girls rush over to her, tipping her head back, but a few drops have already fallen onto the blanket- onto the symbol.

“See?” Natalie whispers in your ear. “It’s bad fucking luck, Y/N.”

Something thuds against the walls of the cabin. The ceiling. Somewhere, something- you turn around, and Nat grabs your hand, looking over her shoulder at the window. You look too. The thumps continue, along with fluttering, like wings- and it looks like something is falling from the sky.

Nat’s hand falls from yours, and you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself, following a few other girls when they step outside- the sound stopping.

Birds lie dead in front of the cabin.

You spot one to the left still twitching.

“Oh, God,” you mutter, looking at the closest one- laying on its back, unmoving, heart to the sky.

“Did these guys just suicide on our roof?” Mari asks.

You hear something else falling, but there’s no more birds. Shauna has dropped the blanket, blood on the symbol, on her face. She stares down at it with disgust.

“Don’t touch them,” Nat says. “They might be diseased.”

“We know that there’s a lot of iron in the ground…” Misty starts, crouching next to one. “So, maybe, it messed with the birds navigation.” But you can tell even she doesn’t quite believe herself.

“We should gather it’s blessings,” Lottie says after a moment. And like magic, some of the girls immediately start gathering up the birds and placing them on the porch.

Your feet crunch in the snow, but you take one step forward, leaning down, just curious, just wanting to touch one-

“Y/N.”

You turn around and find Natalie staring at you, slightly shocked, her hand out.

“Come on,” she says, glancing to the dead bird you were about to touch.

You stand back up and take her hand, following her back into the warm cabin.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff @onlyangel-444 @subastronaut

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

[spicy-moths]

Glow

Murdoch x AFAB!Reader | Words: 3669

My apologies to Pyre. May they rest in penis.

Warnings: knife kink, use of "sir", "daddy", "fawn", "angel", bondage, breeding, risk, unprotected sex, corruption, obsession, implied stalking, nipple play, oral sex, cum bulge, leather kink...

Don't underestimate the warnings.

MINORS DNI

Murdoch stalks the end of the bed, pacing back and forth as you squirm at the head of it. Your handcuffs have been repurposed, not really ever thinking you’d be on the receiving end of them. The headboard is solid, far more than you thought a serial killer would be able to afford. Racks hang on the wall of what you assume to be weapons, although they’re too shrouded in shadow for you to make out what they are in particular. His golden eyes pierce through the darkness, the only feature you can make out in the darkness as he sits in a chair across from the end of the bed.

“Tell me, detective, how much do you know about me?”

You growl through gritted teeth, which gets a chuckle out of him.

“Easy fawn, I’m not going to hurt you, yet.”

The shock from his statement snaps you out of the anger for a moment. The casualness of it all, the only visible part of him being his legs crossed as he reclines back. The vague threat of your impending doom. But you snap back to reality, barking at him like a cornered dog.

“You kidnapped me! You kill innocent people and kidnap the eighteenth to do what? Torture them?? Watch them slowly slip into insanity so you can enjoy killing them?? Does it get you hard or something, fucko!?”

Murdoch simply listens as you yell at him, and you catch a glimpse of him shaking his head, letting out a halfhearted laugh as he gets up, heading over to a table on the side of the room to fiddle with something. 

“So that’s what you think I am? A man who kills because he has a hard time getting laid? Quite the opposite, detective…”

As he steps out of the shadows, his sunglasses go over his eyes again, a simple tank top tight against his large muscles. The moon illuminates him in almost a ghostly light, shining off the lenses and giving you a brighter flash of those golden eyes behind the tinted glass. He holds a knife in one hand, with a beer and plastic water bottle in the other.

“Are you thirsty, detective?’ “N-No- what the fuck are you on about, Sabre.”

“Now detective, don’t you think we’ve moved past using formalities like last names… I’m much for using pet names, like “worm” for the stains on existence that I crush beneath me, or “fawn” for the precious thing staring at me from my bed…~”

You hate to admit it. You hate to admit that he flustered you. Your cheeks are hot, eyes going wide as he uses those sweet words, just for you. But you won’t let that distract you, you have to get out of here. With a swift kick, you send the plastic water bottle back towards him, and he clicks his tongue in distaste.

“Seems I’ll be teaching you manners as well, all in due time, I suppose…”

He uses the knife to pop the cap of the beer off, sheathing it back in his thigh holster before sitting back. He takes a long sip as he looks you over again, resting his sunglasses atop his head once his face is concealed in the shadows again. 

“Let me tell you what I know about you, little fawn-”

“It’s detective, and you will address me as such.”

He’s surprised at your boldness, his turn to growl this time as he sits his beer down, standing once again as he circles around the back of the chair.

“And I prefer sir but you don’t see me forcing it upon people I have just revealed myself to, do you? Detective-”

The lights turn on and you see large boards of pictures of you, newspaper articles, string, flowers, all a tangle of what looks like a shrine to you. Whatever fight in you leaves your body, a whimper of fear exiting your lips as you cower against the headboard. It seems that your situation was much more dire than you initially thought.

“I’ve done quite a lot of research on you, detective. I’ve taken your coffee order, what your usual is at your favorite restaurant, who your friends are, what model of car you drive. I know you, detective. I’ve spent so long waiting for you…~”

He spits out your title onto the ground, squashing it underfoot like the “worms” he spoke about earlier. With a strike of a match, he begins to light candles around the room, revealing gifts, or what you assume to be gifts, on shelves and walls. The racks of what you presumed to be weapons turn out to be intricate displays of flowers, all of your favorites.

“You know what they say, detective. If a man wants to, he will…”

His footsteps are sure as he stalks up to the end of the bed, placing his hands near your feet as he leans down, eyes piercing yours as they’re revealed over the tilt of his sunglasses.

“And I would certainly say I’ve gone above and beyond for you, haven’t I? Little fawn?”

He moves closer, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, holding your chin as he forces you to look at him.

“Every vermin who dared try to look at you, to touch you, cause any problem. I got rid of them! All for my fawn. I just wish her to be happy, happy and safe with me…”

Your mind flashes to every time you have gotten close to catching a suspect, about to make an arrest, how they suddenly went missing or ended up dead. You shake your head at him, trying to free your chin from his grasp.

“Shhh, little fawn. You’re safe, with me. I’ll do anything for you, my love. I know everything about you. All I want is your love in return.”

“I- can’t- won’t- love a- killer- like you-”

“Oh, but you will. I’m perfect for you, don’t you see? I’ve gotten you everything you love, and will get you anything you’ll ever want. I only want you now.”

You choke on the air, tears coming to your eyes as you begin to struggle more again. He frowns, unhooking your cuffs from the bed as he brings you into his arms. You kick, scream, plead, anything to free yourself as he just, holds you. No forceful grip, just slowly moving around, trying to soothe you as you let out your desperate attempt for escape. When you finally tire, he brings one of his gloved hands to rest your head against his shoulder, letting you sob into his skin.

“Shhhhh… it’ll all be okay soon. I promise, my dear…”

“Wh- why me- why did it have to be me-??”

He stays silent as you sob out, not even bothering to fight against him now. A soothing hand rubbing over your back, moving down your arms to try and provide some relief against the strain of the cuffs. But he won’t let you go. Not yet.

“Because you are the only one who looked at the evidence, my love. The only one smart enough out of that prison of lustful pigs to actually get close enough to catching me. I have to say, you look particularly cute with a gun pointed at my chest~”

He chuckles as that seems to snap you enough out of your sobs, flustered again as he continues to catch you off guard. A wave of disgust as you found comfort in the arms of a killer, arms that held you with a gentleness that you crave inside… but we can’t let that happen! Weakness is how you die, and you refuse to die. Not now.

You squirm suddenly, being the one to catch him off guard this time. A brief fall onto the bed is all the freedom you get before he cages you in, pinning you down.

“I don’t think you understand, little fawn, you will love me, in the same way I’ve loved you.”

A swift kick to his gut sends him barrelling backwards, and you’re able to get up on your feet for the first time in what feels like hours. You break for the door, trying to free yourself from the cuffs as you run. Fumbling with the door latch, you turn around to see him getting up, stalking you now with no protection over his eyes, his knife glowing gold as it unholsters itself, floating up to his hand as he prepares to dash after you. You throw your body weight against the door, it opens finally as you just run, not knowing where you’re going. A few twists and turns in the dark, and you see the front door. 

“Little fawn, I was hoping we’d wait until later to go hunting. But if you want me to be the big bad wolf, so be it.”

A snarl echoes through the house as you exit into the cold air, running for the trees, grateful that your shoes are still on. Sprinting as far as your legs can carry you, the crunch of the leaves behind you making him feel like he’s always a step behind you. Glimpses of gold dart across your vision, nearly making you trip as they’re clear distractions. Right?

“Couldn’t let me see my angel become truly my own? Let me protect my little fawn? No. They’ve made you afraid, made you fear me…”

Something whizzes past your face, a glowing knife embedding itself into the tree to your left as you keep running. Your legs burn, struggling to keep yourself afloat. But those thoughts inside your head tell you to turn back. That you’re safe with him, he’ll hug all the anxieties away. You won’t have to catch another killer, everything will be okay-

Your thoughts stop as you trip over a root, thinking you’re gonna land face-first in the mud and leaves, but find yourself floating as well. He grabs the cuffs, yanking you back into his arms. Knives circle you both in the air, poised outwards, protecting you.

“Don’t run from me, I couldn’t hurt you. Not you. Please-”

You hesitate for a moment, before letting yourself sink back into his arms. A human, not the monster that you had created him to be in your head. You were tired, wanting rest. He holds you until he’s sure you’re not gonna fight him, before carrying you back to the house, knives still hanging in the air as they protect the two of you from whatever else may lurk in the woods. 

“Murdoch, please, promise me one thing…”

“Anything, anything, I promise-”

“No more killing innocents. Protect the people. For me. Please.”

He pauses as he sets you down in the chair, sitting across from you on the edge of the bed. The glow of his eyes fades as he brushes the hair out of his face, long strands falling back to frame his jaw.

“Anything for you. I promise.”

A click of the handcuffs and they float away, your wrists freed, giving you true freedom. You consider running again, but-

“Please. Detective. Stay.”

Slowly, you stand, slotting yourself against his chest as you wrap your arms around his chest, not even able to link your fingers together with how broad he is. Scar and tattoo covered arms wrap around you, pulling you into place. 

“I’m here.” “My little fawn…~”

Murdoch tilts your chin up, looking into his eyes, a soft honey with the hunger of a bear just behind the surface, tracing around your form.

“You’re perfect, perfectly mine.”

His hand caresses your cheek as his other grips your waist just a little bit tighter. Gaze lingering at your lips, before meeting your eye again.

“May I~?”

You nod, hesitantly. He pulls you even closer, connecting your lips with a sense of starvation, arm hooking fully around your waist to press you against his body. Squirming in surprise, you pull several growls and groans from him. “Careful.”

Against your stomach, you feel him filling out his slacks, and it’s bigger than you thought it would be. But you don’t want to stop, you want to see where this goes. How much he will do for you…

You grind your leg against his hardening dick, and he growls in your ear, snapping his jaws and nearly catching your ear with his sharpened teeth.

“Looking for something?”

“What is it that you get after a successful hunt? A hunting prize~?”

“Angel love of mine-”

In an instant, you’re spun around and pinned to the bed, a ferality returning to the glint in his eye. You squeak, which earns a grin from him. He mouths down your throat, gently biting as he pulls more of those desperate little sounds from you, holding your wrists easily in his hands. 

“Tell me to stop.”

“No, keep going Murdoch. Please~”

“Fuck, fawn~”

Your hands are pinned above your head with one hand as he uses the other to cut off your clothes, sending the knife back away before tearing the remaining fabric away. He moans, looking over your body and how you squirm underneath him. A gloved hand parts your legs, and you swear he almost drools at the sight.

“All that, for me~?”

His fingers glide through your folds, inspecting how wet you make the leather after the shock of cold causes your body to buck up into his hand. He looks you back in the eye, lewdly licking it off his fingers.

“Angel mine, let me ruin you. Let me show you what I need from you.”

“You won’t-”

You don’t even get the remark out before his tongue is gliding through your cunt, gathering up your slickness and moving up to suck at your clit. Your hands strain against his, hips bucking up into his mouth. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder as the other is pinned against the bed with his body, arm around your thigh to hold you in place. His tongue dips inside you, briefly pumping in and out as you feel flicks of cold, your mind fogging as you haven’t experienced something like this before. Nothing so intense, so intent on making you cum.

He sucks at your clit again before bringing his head up, mouth covered in your wetness as he grins, kissing the inside of your thigh that rests next to his head.

“Won’t I~?”

His tongue wipes his lips and your catch a glimpse of a tongue piercing, said piercing being pushed against that bundle of nerves, him not letting up now. He lets go of your hands, which fly into his hair as you try and get him to lessen, not realizing where that hand is going until he presses two gloved fingers into you, sending you into a white hot haze as your body violently cums around them. 

When you come to, you’re laying back, warming his fingers as he looms over you. His face still glistens from eating you out, but a wet stain now decorates the front of his tank top. 

“H-Holy shhhhit-”

“Never squirted before, fawn? Get used to it~”

His fingers start up again, thumb grinding against your already abused clit as he now takes one of your nipples into his mouth, giving the other attention as well, just to get you moaning and squirming as his fingers work you open.

“Poor little thing, daddy’s making you feel so good and you just don’t know how to react, isn’t that right~?”

“Y-Yes s-s-sir-”

“Good girl.”

His mouth resumes his attention to your chest, swapping between each nipple to give them equal attention, teasing his tongue piercing against the sensitive nubs. Your hands fly everywhere, unable to process what he’s truly giving you. You rock your hips down as he adds a third finger, getting you just a little bit wider.

“You can do it, I know you can. Don’t worry, daddy will take his prize.”

Murdoch stands tall as he pulls a condom out of his pocket, moving to shuck down his pants just enough while his thumb and fingers are pressed to hit all the spots that make you see stars.

“No- please- we- don’t need it-”

His eyes flash again as the condom is discarded to the floor, looking your form over once again.

“You do know that it won’t be safe…”

“Don’t care- just- please daddy~”

A switch turns on in his brain and his hand leaves you, fully stripping as quickly as he can before tossing you higher on the bed. His lips meet yours as he moves your hips around his, hiding you on the bed with his form. Slowly, inch by inch, he presses into you. When you feel his tip touch the deepest part of you, you nearly scream a desperate sound, struggling to not move as he just won’t.

“I’m sorry, angel. I just needed to make sure I didn’t forget how you felt the first time I got the pleasure to fuck you.”

You attempt to respond before he snaps his hips back, ridges and veins brushing against your walls as you’re reminded once again at how full you feel. A glance down and you see him moving inside you, how big and thick he is. But then he’s stronger, pushing into you with more need, more ferocity. He growls when you squeeze around him, making him slow his pace but it feels like heaven as he shifts his hips, making you see stars with a scream of his name. 

You clench down hard around him, squirting again as there’s no room for anything else inside you. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you flush against him. He moans deeply, leaning down to nip at your neck again when you come down from your high.

“It doesn’t take much from daddy, does it? Little girl just needs to take what daddy gives her and she’ll feel so good. Sweet angel mine~”

Despite not wanting to hurt you, it takes incredible strength from him to start pumping into you again, briefly moving your hips for you and fucking himself with your cunt before you lessen enough for him to rock into you more naturally. Kisses and hickeys litter your chest and neck, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. You feel him get faster as your head is swimming, having already hit two of the hardest climaxes  you’ve gotten in your life, but he still hasn’t cum yet. And you want him to.

Gods, just the idea of you getting filled up by him is exciting, and you don’t realize you’re babbling out pleads for him to fill you up until he growls into your ear again.

“Yeah? Little fawn wants her big bad wolf to fill her up? Begging daddy to give her what she needs?”

“Pl-ease da-addy- I ne- nghh~ -eed it-”

“Fuck, you need daddy to breed you, little fawn~?”

“PLEASE-”

Never in your life have you let out a beg so desperate, but the fuzziness in your mind has cast out all kinds of judgement. He’s so much, you want it all. At your pleads and begs, he speeds up, rougher, before pushing your thighs up, folding you in half.

Murdoch pulls out briefly to adjust you, cock dripping with pre-cum and your juices, before pushing back in with a new vigor. Your lips are devoured quickly, swallowing up your noises and any remaining attempts at begs before he pushes his tongue into your mouth, making you nearly choke. But you manage to suck on it eagerly, too fucked out to realize it’s longer than it should be. 

“Alright fawn, cum for me. Cum for daddy.”

His fingers make very quick work of your clit, enough to push you over that edge of pain, pleasure, and overstimulation. You squeeze and clench hard, but he keeps pumping into you. With a groan, you feel him start to spill into you, making you giddy as the warmth spreads through you. You swear that you were dragging him in, but there was no need as he kept going, fucking it in deeper than you thought it could go. 

He finally stills after a few minutes, unable to fit more into you. Murdoch pulls out, getting the last remaining amount jacked off onto your chest, to which he gladly cleans up with his tongue. Your face flushes, especially when he kisses off a bit that got on your face, with you licking your lips before he can get the droplets there. 

“Oh naughty little girl, does daddy taste good?”

“Mmmmmhmmmm…”

“Good girl, you can get more of a taste if you wanna thank your daddy.”

He releases your legs, and they slink back down to the bed. You blink, processing his face before looking down, seeing a clear bulge on your abdomen, and a mess of cum across your thighs. Then you look up a bit more, and see there’s plenty of it still on his cock. And you want it.

You crawl onto your front, settling between his legs as you lick his cock clean, taking the tip into his mouth as you suck anything remaining out. A glob falls onto your tongue as you look up at him with big doe eyes, and if you hadn’t just sucked him dry, he could’ve cum again.

“I’m fucking that mouth at some point, fucking hell…”

He pulls you off and into his lap, pushing his cum back in with his fingers. A knife then flies into his hand, biting the blade and snapping it from the handle, The blade is spat onto the floor as he holds the handle, warming it.

“Gotta keep my little fawn well bred, I’ll get you a proper toy next time. Promise.”

He pushes in the handle of the knife inside you, the hilt keeping it from going any further. You let out a gasp, before sighing in satisfaction.

“Lovely angel of mine, my little fawn…”

“Yours.”

[the-decapod]

I got immediately clocked as a tumblrina today

im ded, unconscious even.

[gizkasparadise]

hi! came here from ur ao3. Start a War has been my favorite fanfic for roughly 2 years now and I keep re-reading the perfection that it is. truly, thank you for letting us read it for free.

I had a question however. in the scene where she Cuts and is taken and Aleks rescues her, she asks him the classic what is infinite and he's heartbroken and responds w "never us". somehow I've never understood what he meant. could you please explain?

sorry if ur over it and I'm dredging it up, it's just been a lot on my mind and I was doing the dishes and thought of it 😂 feel free to ignore, if you wish.

once again, thank u for that art you've graced us with. I love it w all my heart. hope u have a great day :)

- ec 🐣

hello!! thank you for the kind note :D it's really awesome that folks are still reading and enjoying this fic that is about to be (SOB) 10 years old!!!

so im probably going to articulate this badly, but essentially how it plays out is that during this part of the fic, alina wants to die following the assassination of the lantsovs and she's tired of being immortal/unending (hence why she let the fjerdans take her hostage/build a pyre to burn her alive). darkling doesnt have the same hangups with immortality, nor does he ever really understand alina's, but he's terrified that she was almost killed

so darkling asks: “Tell me what I need to do to make you forget. And I’ll do it.” because her hang-ups/grief is putting her in danger and he's tired and frustrated over how attached she was to her mortal life

so alina responds with baghra's often-repeated question, because alina knows he was attached at least to his mother and she is trying to get him to understand her a little better: “What is infinite, Aleksander?”

and he replies the traditional answer: “The universe and the greed of men.”

and she adds on: "And us" because she's sick of being immortal and really nihilistic about how endless her existence looks when she has so much grief

& darkling is quick to correct her: “No,” and his voice breaks with an emotion he does not understand, “Not us.”

^ this is because he's really come face-to-face with alina almost dying for the first time, and he's realizing that they're both not untouchable/he could very easily be alone again if alina decides to exit their unending, codependent existence. the "emotion he does not understand" can be interpreted however the reader wants, but i was thinking of it as him being really afraid for the first time in a long, long time

hope that answers your question!! thank you for the message again :D

[phoenixkaptain]

I know that the scene is supposed to be very serious and dramatic and it is very emotionally charged (haha) but like what was Palpatine’s plan if he continued to electrocute Luke and Luke didn’t die?

Like, he’s been Force Lightning-ing this guy for a solid minute now. He has stopped and started, he has just tried the long wait, and nothing! And like, Luke just sort of shakes it off???

He stumbles for a minute, but then he drags his dad all the way to the hangar, literally dragging him during the last stretch, flies to Endor’s moon, gives Vader a nice pyre, hugs all of his friends, and hangs out to see the Force Ghosts; Luke is just unaffected! I guess you could suggest that he immediately just passes out right after the credits start rolling, but that is a long time to be moving on adrenaline, especially since the sadness of watching his dad die would normally have overridden the adrenaline, or the part where he flies to Endor’s moon, in which we can assume he’s sitting down for a good portion, or the part where he’s hugging all his friends and the relief and happiness would override the adrenaline-

Luke just got electrocuted for minutes on end, and he is just… fine.

Even Palpatine starts to look confused! Like, he starts electrocuting and he’s having a gay old time, but then he continues and it’s not working. So he continues longer, but the boy is still not destroyed. He continues further, yet the boy remains undying. Was there a plan B? If Palpatine had continued, would Luke ever even have died? I have to assume he would have died not from lightning but from starvation or dehydration since it does not seem to actually affect him that much. He’s clearly in pain, but he is also just… fine???

There is nothing funnier to me in all of cinema history than Palpatine trying and failing multiple times to electrocute Luke Skywalker to death. Luke just won’t die!!

However speaking of the scenes with Vader, Palpatine, and Luke, I want to point out how much I love the fight scene between Luke and Vader.

First of all, it only starts because Luke pulls a bait and switch where it look like he isn’t going to try and kill Palpatine, only to try and kill Palpatine, which is really funny.

Luke begins on the defensive, only really halfheartedly fighting back, but can we talk about how funny it is that he kicked Vader down the stairs?? Vader is a head taller than him, has to weigh several hundreds of pounds in mechanical parts alone, which speaking of, since his legs probably take up the most space, logically speaking, he’s probably weighed down, which makes it even more difficult to knock him down since he wouldn’t be top heavy — and Luke manages to kick him down a flight of stairs.

I know it’s fun to assume that Vader isn’t trying all that hard, as in he’s going easy on his son in hopes he won’t have to hurt him, but it’s also fun to assume that Vader got knocked into another unexpected tailspin by a rebel with a good shot and it is so funny…

Anyway, Luke hiding is also kind of funny.

“You cannot hide forever.”

Vader is the worst hide-and-seek player :(

We all know how it goes: Vader threatens to turn Leia instead of Luke, and Luke gets so upset at the thought that he starts actually fighting Vader.

And this, like Palpatine with the lightning, is a series of progression. At first, Vader isn’t taking him very seriously, which is what leads to him being overwhelmed by Luke just attacking constantly (the best strategy when facing Vader is to spam the attack button-) But, when Vader gets knocked down and his hand gets cut off, we can see him raise his other hand, like he’s asking Luke to ease up. Like, Vader got overwhelmed by Luke’s flurry of attacks, that’s just what happened, that’s why he grabs the railing to try and catch himself, leaving himself wide open to more attacks, and that’s why he tries to hold his hand up to stop Luke, an instinctual act when people are overwhelmed, and that’s probably why he doesn’t try to use the Force.

At first, he wasn’t taking Luke seriously, so of course he didn’t use the Force. Luke is correct, after all, that Vader is conflicted. He goes back and forth between trying to hurt Luke and trying really hard not to hurt Luke. But, Force users really can’t use the Force, the way they’d like to at least, when they’re distracted. That’s evident in this movie alone, when Luke uses the Force but then just throws a rock. Vader can’t focus enough to use the Force, he probably couldn’t focus enough to use the Force during the whole fight. Luke is distracting to him, and we can assume the reason he’s distracting is any number of things, but Luke is the catalyst, Vader doesn’t use the Force on or around Luke, like, ever.

But, Luke wins against Vader. And he stops. Even before Palpatine speaks, Luke stops. Because he knows he’s won, and he kind of has to take a moment to process the fact that he has knocked Vader down and literally unhanded him.

I’ve seen people complain that, if Palpatine hadn’t spoken, Luke would’ve probably killed Vader, but I sort of disagree. Both with the idea that Luke would’ve killed Vader and the idea that Palpatine should’ve known better than to try and taunt Luke into doing something.

Luke doesn’t actually want Vader dead, you know? Like, he just doesn’t.

But more important than that, the central theme of the movies is that Luke, despite being constantly told how similar he is to his father, isn’t actually similar to his father.

Like yes, okay, he’s a Jedi and a pilot and he’s loyal to the point of suicidal. But he really isn’t like Anakin. Anakin did respond when he was taunted to kill Dooku. Anakin got overwhelmed with hate and let it overtake him completely. But Luke isn’t like Anakin, and assuming he is is the mistake that Palpatine makes.

More than that, it’s the mistake the Jedi make too. Both sides of the conflict between Dark Side and Light Side are wrong on a few key things. They think Sith can’t turn back to the light, they think Luke is just like his father, and they think Luke’s ability to kill Palpatine is the deciding factor.

Luke not being like Anakin is the big revelation. Even as he says “I’m a Jedi, like my father before me.” Which, he’s likening himself to his father, yes, but it’s a double entendre, in a way, where I, for example, can say “I’m a doctor, like that guy down the street” like I’m not actually saying I’m just like the guy down the street. And even if Luke was saying “I’m just like my dad,” he’s just lying?? Like, I don’t know why people try to use that dialogue to point out Luke being like Anakin, Luke hardly ever says anything correct in these movies. Luke says “you won’t take me to the Emperor” and Vader takes him to the Emperor, like, Luke gets stuff wrong consistently, he’s just really good at winging it.

But, you can kind of tell that the Jedi think Luke is like Anakin, because they don’t actually tell him not to go? Like, if Anakin said “I don’t know if I can kill this guy” and they sent him anyway, the guy would’ve ended up dead by Anakin’s hand, that’s pretty much indisputable, so Ben just sort of being like “okay, yeah, sure, Skywalker, sure” makes a bit more sense, since Ben especially was one of those people who likened Luke to Anakin.

Also I saw someone say that Ben and Yoda never actually told Luke he had to kill his father, but like, yes they did? I guess neither of them ever explicitly said “Luke, murder your father” but that doesn’t mean they don’t expect him to kill him. Luke says “I can’t do it. I can’t kill my father.” and Ben literally says “Then the Emperor has already won.” That’s pretty clearly confirming that they wanted him to kill his father.

Everyone likens Luke to Anakin from the very beginning. Beru and Owen, Ben, Yoda, Palpatine; it’s set up from the start that people look at Luke and see mini Ani. And that assumption is what makes Luke able to ultimately overcome the Dark Side. Because Palpatine assumes he’ll act and react just like Anakin did, because why wouldn’t he, and Luke not only doesn’t act like Anakin, he doesn’t act like much of a Jedi, since he literally tosses his lightsaber (you know, the things that represent their “lives”) away.

Luke says “I’m a Jedi, like my father before me” while doing things that directly contradict those statements, and it is wild.

In conclusion, Luke is truly the most terrifying man to go up against. He’s a damage sponge, he cannot be killed, and he, unlike his father before him, basically said, “I’m going to do the opposite of what you want, just to spite you. And I’m going to throw my lightsaber away, just to prove how far I’m willing to go out of spite.”

[novelistash]

My prize money pays for a new outfit. I look like a hiker in the rain, but the plastic poncho and goggles are necessary. Flying is rarely comfortable and I might end up flying in the rain. The weather won't be a problem for Connie, my Swanna, but I will be a cumbersome package when wet.

I get out my backpack and spend the better part of thirty minutes assembling the litter. It's a reinforced tarp held together by pipes and it feels more dangerous than it is. Mine is adult sized, big enough for a man who has four inches on me to lay down from elbow to toes, but it feels too small. I consider replacing Connie with a larger flier, but it'll require a detour that I don't want to make. I have a belldum to raise and it still isn't out of its egg.

With the last of the litter assembled, I lay it on the ground and summon Connie. She comes out with her wings extended, ready to splash opponents with surf. It's a reminder that I need to change her moves around. Once she sees the litter, the four foot long white bird uses her beak to help attach the handles above me.

"Alright, Connie. Let's fly!"

Hopping up and balancing her fifty pounds on the pipes connecting above my back, she summons a gale of air that lifts us off the ground. My stomach drops and I hang on to the upper edge of the pipes. Below us children are pointing at the once pedestrian sight of a trainer on wing.

Using my Poketech X, I orient us when we're well above the highest building in Lilycove. A direct flight to Slateport is gonna be exhausting and I don't know if I'm gonna get there before nightfall. If I go as the spearow flies, I might end up over the rocky islands east of Slateport, which could be full of wingulls, shuppets, and whatever's left of Team Aqua. Their efforts had been foiled for a second time, but criminal elements never truly disappear.

No, the safe bet is to fly over route 123 and end up in Mauville and Mt. Pyre is a detour I can easily avoid, only I tilt the frontal grips towards the south. Connie obeys, taking me straight for the flat-topped island shrine. Wind chills my exposed skin and I lean into my Pokémon's flight. Connie flaps once and our tailwind redoubles its strength to bring my eye to the ground. The stomach lurching terror makes me shout and laugh.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Connie makes spectacular time. Within twenty minutes we're rounding on the grassy peak of the hollowed inactive volcano. There's a wide walkway leading up to the sacred steps of the main shrine, it makes for a natural landing path but two trainers are battling. A gout of flame is more than enough warning. Connie turns us about to circle until this cool trainer and hex maniac settle their battle. The woman with long wild hair looks familiar. I fought her back when I did tours of Hoenn to keep my team in shape. I used to know her name.

Two circles later the cool trainer has the Sableye beat. The trainer and Pokémon jump into the air to celebrate their victory. I don't recognize the fire Pokémon, it's the second stage of that bunny thing from Galar. Trainer and Pokémon clear the path and Connie and I can finally land.

The ground comes up fast and hard. Even though Connie's brought up a pillow of air to cushion my landing and the litter takes most of the impact, it still rattles my bones. I crawl out fast, wipe the mud off my pants and feed Connie a treat.

"Hey, mister," says the try-hard sixteen year old. "You ain't supposed to fly here."

"So call a kill Joy. What are you here for?"

"Battles. You wanna try your luck against my Raboot?"

"No, thanks. You can tell everyone you beat me. I'm hear to pay my respects."

The cool trainer mumbles something about me being a vagrant and walks off. Connie is anxiously waiting a recall, but I keep her out. The sun isn't giving the ghost Pokémon a lot of reason to stay hidden. I push the handle of the litter down, folding it up as I store it by a bench.

The hex maniac approaches. There's this sort of manic glee in her eyes and I swear she's smiling wide enough to drool.

"Please don't tell me you're wasting money on a revive to fight me," I grumble.

"My powers are beyond the needs of such trivial expenses," she says like she's auditioning for a role in a movie.

I arch a skeptical bro.

"I have a some Zigzagoons running pickup."

"Ah. Well, I decline the battle. I'm here to pay my respects to lost Pokémon."

"That'll be a problem." A long gnarled hand points up the path and lands on scaffolding and plastic curtains covering the main shrine. "The actions of the ambitious have denied your desires."

I sigh. "Listen, I'm pretty sure we've met before. What was your name again?"

Her long berobed arm goes down in, and snakes its way up to pull back a long graying curtain of hair. Her skin is whiter than the tombstones around us. Though she looks no more impressive than any other hex maniac I've ever faced, somehow all of her fake spiritualism is really giving me the creeps. "You can call me, Valerie."

"Yeah. Hi, Valerie. Listen, I've lost a few Pokémon over the years and I was hoping to find a place to pay my respects. Is there anything like that here?"

"Over this way, ASH."

I follow her for a few steps before I ask her, "So you remember me?"

"Remember you?" She laughs and it's more of a hissing sound than a cackle. "I used to see you three times a week. You were the one who gave me my ziggies."

"I was?"

"You don't remember."

"I trained a lot of Pokémon over the years and I probably got rid of a thousand in my pursuit of a perfection. Believe me when I tell you it's nothing personal."

Valerie makes the forlorn mewling sound and right before I think she's going to cry, she stops by the statue of an Absol and smiles at me. "A younger version of me would've been heartbroken to hear that. Now it fills me with glee to know that you were so selfish."

I swallow. "I'm sorry. I didn't ever think-- I wasn't... I'm sorry."

Her crooked teeth gleam in the hazy fog of Mt. Pyre's basin. "It makes me happy, like watching a wingull finally succumb to poison."

Morbid, but then this lady has probably been coming back to this spot for over ten years. Her concept of normal is probably grim. "Why does my crass attitude make you happy?"

"Hmm?" she muses and looks to the white circle of the descending sun. "You were never worth the tremblings of my heart. I was wrong to think our souls could dance in death." She laughs. "It was me that was dancing-- dancing alone with the dead."

"Yeah, um, about that. Why do you keep coming here anyway? Are you like a ranger?"

"A ranger? No. No one gave me such a noble purpose. It is the souls of the Pokémon that bring me back. They are lonely and so I hug them when I can. Sometimes we share a laugh. Sometimes they dare me to give them my body."

"That sounds like a great way to end up in the hospital."

This time her creepy laughter does reach a cackle. She is laughing at my ignorance in the way that a teenager might laugh at a child, though we are clearly about the same age only her body has been worn down by her life among the grave. "The dead understand life more than the living, they do not waste their precious breath on words and training."

"Then why do you fight?"

She laughs harder, doubling over from the strain her cackling puts on her gut. That long curtain of hair hides her ghastly face and she points. A small shrine isn't too far. Around the stone monument is a patch of gravel surrounded by a solid ring of salt one foot thick. "Go, mourning trainer. Leave me to your sorrows and your life without reflection."

I take a step and then turn to face her crazed stare. "Don't you worry about spending all your time with ghosts? People need to be around other people."

"I am with minds that love life. You..." Her laughter approaches a place of sorrow. "You are closer to death than they, only you do not know it. You are a fool who surrounds himself in ignorance, and I am darker than a Sableye. I am clearer than their crystals. You are the shadow of your defeats, the ashes of the burnt. Go, coward. Go cry over your ash!"

Cackling in a wild voice, she walks away, leaving me to the solitude of the shrine.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

My meditation is haunted. The row of salt, the haze of incense, the string of charms are all too powerful to allow any ghosts inside, but I am haunted all the same. Valerie basically told me that she had a crush on me, but it was a crush I never noticed. I only ever saw her to vanquish her Sableye and collect some pen. She was a name in a long list of trainers that I beat to bulk up my auxiliary teams, but I'd left an impression on her.

Long breaths help me settle my heart, but I have to force the image of Doryu dying to get my mind back on the tragedy of my fallen friends. I take out six candles and lay them under the pyramid roof of the shrine. I light a dried out stick and light the candles in sequence.

Doryu, my Garchomp who fell to a Sylveon. Fission, my self destructing Metagross. Spiritomb, Roserade, Porygon Z, and Lucario.

These six had all died because of my prideful ambition to be a champion but many more had been cast aside because I deemed them inefficient. At least the Zigzagoon's in Valerie's care were helping her sustain this wild life of isolation. Others had been discarded to the wilds. I'd needed to breed thousands to achieve my goal of crafting the perfect team. Only everything I did wasn't enough to make me the champion. I didn't even have the conviction to honor their sacrifice.

Rain comes down soft. I wish it was hard, to pelt my skin, and punish my body for the folly of my past, but I'm dressed for rain and the gentle shower is more of an ablution than a gauntlet. So I breath soft, letting the petrichor still my heart, and accept that the pokemon who are lost fought because they believed in me. I chose them because they were fighters, even though Lucario and Roserade weren't made to be champions. When they died I blamed myself for trying to make those Pokemon into something they weren't but maybe it was me that didn't understand my soul.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Connie is ready to fly when I return, but there's no sign of Valerie. The rain is still falling, but it is a gentle sprinkle that wouldn't scare off a hex maniac like Valerie. She'd chosen this life of isolation, tended to the wounded hearts of the dead, but one day she would join their ranks. Some believed that dead humans could become ghost pokemon but I never did. I thought that Pokemon like Spiritomb and Gengar devoured human souls to keep themselves strong, but I never stopped using them.

I still have a Gengar and maybe it's not right for me to carry around Sorrowfell. Yet, Sorr is my pokemon. I raised her to fight and help me navigate the haunted corners of Alola. Handing her over to Valerie might be disrespectful, an insult to not only her but my Gengar. These Pokémon are my allies and I'm going to need the help of others if I'm ever going to make sense of my life.

Goggles on. Plastic hood in position, I lay down on the litter. "Let's fly, Connie."

She hops up onto the top of the litter, flapping to keep her weight from pushing down on the ground. Through the power of wind that feel more like magic than a physical reaction we rise into the droplets. Connie makes an excited trill to join the wind and water, to experience the elements of her existence.

Down below I see a naked pasty white woman dancing with her wet hair covering everything lewd. Valerie continues to move to an erratic beat, swaying along with ghosts my untrained eyes can't see.

I turn my eyes west, to clear sky that leads over to Mauville. It'll be a place to rest and hopefully a place to buy some decent clothes. Slateport is a city of Coordinators and entertainers. I'm gonna need to fit in if Esther Flowne is gonna give me the time of day.

It's strange that I keep thinking about how others see me. Valerie is someone I reflexively call a maniac, but she knows who she is and what she wants. Maybe that's part of why she's so scary. There's a certainty in being so mad, that the opinions of others no longer matters. I've never truly been in that state. The closest I ever got was a transitionary period where my unwashed state was a cost that came before my transformation. The Battle Chateau was a place for me to show off, just as my life in Sinnoh before that. Maybe it wasn't love that I wanted from Meriel at all. Maybe I just wanted a life where people would be jealous of me. @trainerspiral

[ohgraveyard]

another rico ramble

throughout his various design iterations (most of which are just contained within my brain, tho i should have drawn them or had them written down somewhere) ive been struggling to figure out the exact happenings of how he became immortal

immortality, along with his other powers, should come at a great cost. I really liked the idea of him having to die and be reborn, not unlike a phoenix. and that pleasantly related to his original fire/lava powers

when rico was a going to be a lava elemental, he was going to be sacrificed to the roman god of lava, being physically burned on a pyre and his scorched corpse would reanimate into his old self just before, in a fit of rage, he killed his boss by turning into a lava monster

because i scrapped the lava elemental idea, the issue of the ritual/sacrifice has been hanging in the air

ive entertained a few different ideas but none of them have really stuck with me. what ive landed on this time is as follows

his boss healey is pursuing an artifact that is meant to grant great power. A cult in [location] from [the past] would select a sacrifice to be made into a guardian - perhaps for the whole town, the ruler, or for the place of worship. the guardian was made into a great beast that afforded the ruler authority in the region, lest he sic the guardian upon his enemies

healey plotted in secret to turn rico into a monster, so when rico is imbued with the guardian spirit, he holds no loyalty to his supposed master. the protective aspect that the guardian possessed in the original legend stems from an undying, genuine loyalty to its people, instilled from a strong sense of community. the strength of will of the chosen people is what allowed them to use the power for protection. so when rico is sacrificed, he cannot tame the monster and kills healey and every member of his team present at the ritual.