#shadow 0-1: fill graves

[line-of-fire]

mini tag dump for canon shit (characters, game snippets, etc) ig

add more as needed, probably.

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Obedear

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Graves x Shadow!Reader

You see a new side of Graves and the Shadows that's much darker than what you were used to, as a bad situation during your mission only grows worse...

TW: Torture, Blood, Somewhat Explicit Violence, Swearing, Dark, Bone-Breaking

Tags: Action, Drama, Thriller(?), Partly Pre-Canon, Swearing, Violence, Torture, Dark, Graves and Shadow Company are villains, Angst, somewhat villain Reader, Character Study, a little edgy, slight melodrama, it's just a somewhat tense situation

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: A little different than what I type normally: no romance, more action-oriented drama. Might be dumb. I just wanted to type a little villainy action stuff for Graves and Shadow Company because I'm brain dead and like writing about bad people sometimes. Let a villain be a villain, I say. (Not that I'm condoning!)

Definitely a chapter meant to demonstrate only some of the measures I feel Graves would take for the sake of covering up a fuck up. He just seems like a guy who likes to dabble in a little torture, but that's just what I think. I also like making the Y/N character person go through it. ┐( ˘_˘)┌

ԅ (≖◡≖ԅ) anyway...

Masterlist

Chapter Thirteen - Obedear

Death.

That’s what runs through your enemies minds when they see your coat of arms -- the Rook insignia of Shadow Company -- the certainty that the end has come.

The Shadows were nothing more than a frightful whisper in the night to those unfortunate enough to be on the wrong side of things. The rumored name their enemies traded after discovering yet another bloodbath left out for display.

It takes a special type of depravity to earn a title like that one; the kind of rep' that runs your blood cold. Under Phillip Graves' command, they were the hideous embodiment of the big, dark shadow in your closet. Boogeymen within the PMC ring. Beastly, merciless, and unforgiving.

Death.

Tonight, you would be the bringer of that destined death, as your target remains oblivious to the impending doom heading his way now.

"…Three, two, one. Execute!"

A small charge blows the handle off a large, metal door, breaking it from its hinges, as it sways open with an eerie creak. The noise attracts the attention of a barking dog in the distance; none from any humans however, nor passing vehicles.

You, Percy and Jeremy stand in a cramped alleyway between two neighboring apartment complexes. The lack of street lamps and available moonlight peaking over the tall, stone buildings, made the alley near pitch black in the night.

This part of Kavala wasn't as populated as the other tourists-filled spots in the city, allowing for you and your men to move in the night with little fear of attracting attention and tipping off your target. With any luck, you could be in and out with Onyx in a matter of minutes.

You flip your night vision goggles on, a hazy green hue overtaking your senses, as you take a peek into the room you'd just broken and entering into -- the back stairwell to the apartments.

Whoever runs this place didn't bother having any of the lights running in this part. You weren't likely to run into anyone this way, at least. Not without you having the upper hand.

"Shadow-1, this is Canary," you say in your comms. "We've breached the building. Entering now. How copy?"

"Good copy," Graves radios in. "Onyx's room is on the fourth floor, room 213. Radio in once you're done. If you run into any "problems", go ahead and dump 'em. Just keep it quiet, yeah?"

"Roger that, Commander. Out here."

Jeremy begins to mutter beneath his breath, "Of course he's on the fourth floor."

The man stands at the foot of the stairwell, using his rifle's scope to look up ahead. He hasn't had much to say to you since you parted from the rest of the team. It's probably the quietest you've ever heard him, which was fine by you.

"You could use the exercise," you poke at him with a whisper, moving past Shadow 2-0 to start making your way up. "Let's move."

Percy follows close behind, silently covering you, as Jeremy follows with a huff.

The stairwell was a tight squeeze, given how far up it stretches, people leaving loose laundry to dry, and their belongings scattered about. You move up quietly, listening for every possible noise.

Dim lights from the small door windows beam in like thin rays, cutting through the dark, as you advance up another set of steps. You hear the faint noises of TVs and chatter echoing from other rooms down their respective halls, unaware of your team creeping by. Indeed, this building was actively being lived in.

The sounds grow less lively as you ascend the steps, before they're replaced by the creaking of the stairwell, and your increasing pulse.

The stairwell eerily blocks out the sounds of the world outside itself, leaving you with the muted steps of your boots against the hard floor, and your low breathing.

The heavy burden of your task at hand grew more prominent.

The adrenaline rises slowly. It made your heart ring in your ears, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up beneath your mask and clothing. You'd only remember the presence of yourself when you would unconsciously swallow.

You reach the fourth floor, removing your night vision so you could peek through the door window.

Taking a small gander of the hallway, you check for signs of roaming residents. This floor seemed to house more empty rooms than the ones below it, with little to no traffic; a deliberate choice by your target no doubt, and one Onyx would soon regret.

The coast looked clear enough.

You turn to your team and give them a small nod, before opening the door and piling into the hallway. As quick as you can, you begin skimming the room numbers, keeping your rifles lowered and your heads on the swivel.

209… 210 … 211 … 212…

Room 213. The last room down the hall.

The three of you huddle around the door, your backs pressed against the wall, and your ears locked in. There's laughter erupting from inside, along with some blaring rap music, too unidentifiable from where you stand to make any of it out.

With how loud it was, there was no way Onyx, nor his men, would hear your team closing in. The chatter grew more rambunctious, multiple men's voices picking up through the walls now.

Your team all share glances with one another, running by the next plan of action with a single lock of the gaze. You recall what was discussed in your briefing hours ago, and prepare yourself.

You lift your hand up and silently begin to count down from five. Four. Three. Two. One.

Percy shoots the door handle, his silencer making the shot a "Plink!" noise, as the door lightly swung ajar. The moment it opens, Jeremy lifts his boot and kicks it in, raising his rifle and rushing into the apartment. You and Percy follow suit, your guns aimed and ready, fingers hovering over the trigger.

In a few short seconds, you take in your surroundings: One exit, a single, curtainless window across from you, a kitchen to your left -- divided by an island counter, and a hallway to your right going towards the bedrooms.

It smelt of cigarettes and dust. The apartment was small and overstuffed with tacky, old furniture and décor. Immediately, you shift your sights to the occupants of the apartment. Your target.

A group of five men sat at a round dining room table off to the left of the entrance and living room. You immediately identify Onyx by his black tracksuit and gold chain, sitting at the table's center. The man's a lot more lanky up close, scrawny even. Though his brown eyes carried the look of a seasoned killer.

They're heads all snapped to the sound of the door crashing open, startled gazes quickly twisting with rage. They reach for their pistols on the table, ready to draw, only they're a few seconds too short.

Jeremy shoots the first shot, riddling one of the guards with bullets and planting him permanently in his seat. The flash from his gunfire lights the room at each pop, as Percy joins in shortly after, taking care of the man next to him who tried to reach for his gun. 

You shoot the last two men with swift precision, making a clean shot through both their skulls back to back, and leaving Onyx as the last man at the table.

"Ahhh!!"

There's an intense scream that comes from the kitchen to your left.

Instinctively, you turn both your body and rifle to the sound, prepared to shoot down this unknown assailant. However, you freeze at the sight of the culprit, your hands locking in place. You see a woman.

Her brown hair is long and curly, her makeup as put together as what she wore. She stands in the kitchen, staring at all the dead bodies, with her hands clasped tightly over her mouth in fear, the tears already streaming down her face.

Suddenly, you come face to face with your own humanity, having switched that part off the moment you stepped through the door. Only you hadn't noticed until now.

The woman screams again, and this time it attracts the attention of the others on your team. Jeremy's in particular.

Shadow 2-0 whips his rifle towards the woman's direction, and without much thought at all, pulls the trigger.

POP!

You watch the bullet slice over the woman's shoulder, just barely missing the major part of her arm, as her blood splatters against the white refrigerator behind her like a paintball pellet.

The woman cries out, grabbing at her arm hysterically. She begins to cower over in fear, suddenly attempting to grab at something near her knees, just below where you couldn't see over the kitchen counter.

You hear tiny footsteps begin to bolt, and to your absolute horror, you see the small shadow of someone bolt from around the counter.

A child.

The kid weaves through you and your team, making a beeline for the hallway, as the woman screams in Russian for him to come back. This sends Onyx in a tizzy.

With no regard for his own safety, the man stands from his seat and attempts to chase after the child, only to be stopped by a bullet to the calf from Jeremy.

Onyx crashes to the floor, only barely catching himself from face-planting onto the ground. Percy takes this opportunity to apprehend Onyx. He drops his knee down onto the man's back until it digs in his spine, swinging his fists down at him a few times before grabbing hold of both his arms.

Amidst the chaos, Jeremy turns his attention back to the belligerent woman, who was seconds away from going completely off the deep end.

"Hey!" Jeremy raises his rifle, threatening to swing it down on her, as though that would help things. "Quit your screamin'!"

She ignores him, crying more, and using her good arm to shield herself from him. It's very likely the poor woman didn't speak English.

The woman's sobbing pleas only seem to further erupt Onyx into a fit of rage. He squirms beneath Percy's knee, cursing and yelling in Russian, making a loud scene.

You step over to Jeremy, attempting to salvage what little Russian you did know to try and get the woman to calm herself. For her sake, she needed to; others in your company would not be as patient.

"Quiet," you tell her. "You need to be quiet."

The woman hears you, but struggles to manage her blubbering, just barely being able to keep from hyperventilating. You couldn't blame her either; Jeremy made this situation more difficult right from the jump. Not that you expected any less from him. Shadow 2-0 was as brutish and uncaring as mercenaries came, the kind of man who shouldn't be in this line of work, and yet thrived in it.

You quickly step back over to the entrance, peaking outside to make sure the commotion hadn't attracted any attention. The hallways remained as empty as you had left them, surprisingly enough. With the music inside still blaring like it was, most of this ordeal was probably drowned out and ignored by the neighbors. Hopefully.

You make sure to shut what remains of the front door behind you on your way back in.

"Shadow-1, we've apprehended the target," you call in. "Awaiting orders."

Radio silence.

You tap your foot impatiently, guessing at what it was that kept your commander from replying. Shepherd, most likely. He's been going out of his way to hound and micromanage you and your Company as of late, almost as though he did not trust you. Which was insulting, given what you knew of him.

After everything the Shadows have done already, trust felt more than owed.

"I told you to keep it down!" Jeremy yells at the woman.

"Screamin' at her's not gonna help any," you say.

Percy cuts in now. "She's probably cryin' for her fuckin' kid."

"Why don't you go get it then, Canary?" Jeremy turns his frustrations to you. "Since you're just standing there."

You would argue, though you couldn't find it in you to do that right now. Your mind felt a bit scattered suddenly.

"Copy that, Canary." Graves' voice brings you back into perspective. "Run into any trouble in there?"

You begin to take in more of the details around the apartment, catching the occasional child's toy on the ground, and family picture on the wall. Onyx's wife and child. The woman and that kid. It makes sense that he'd live with his family, though it's not what you anticipated on barging into when you came here. You hadn't put much thought into that at all, actually.

"Negative, Commander. No issues from us. But…" you're a bit hesitant to mention it to him, knowing what would come of this family if Graves knew. You eventually decide to speak however, some subliminal sense of duty pushing you to. "There are civilians in here, sir."

"Sounds nonessential," Graves says.

Nonessential. Just what you wanted to hear. You sigh in relief. However, it is short-lived.

"They look like they might be his wife and kid, sir," Jeremy radios in. A game changing piece of information in this event. One which quickly sank your heart at your Commander's sudden silence on the other end.

"They still breathin'?" he asks plainly. Quite a question to have on his mind, though it does not surprise you in the least.

"Yes, sir," you say. "Though, the wife's been wounded."

There's another long pause from Graves. You begin to think he may be relaying this back to Shepherd as you speak, seeing as the assignment was entirely dependent on what the General saw fit.

"Tie 'em up and meet us out back," said Graves. "Bring the whole family with ya while you're at it, and make it snappy. Shadow-1 out."

The comms shut off, and the silence which follows feels deafening.

Percy hoists Onyx up aggressively, as he quickly zip-ties the man's hands behind his back, placing a black sack over his head. The whole time, Shadow 3-1 made sure to keep the barrel of his rifle pressed to his back, reminding him not to try anything.

"I said on your fucking feet!"

You hear Jeremy yell at the woman again. He yanks at her wounded arm until she's standing, the poor lady crying out in pain from her injury. Not that he cared for her condition, just that he could quickly have her subdued and blindfolded.

"I'll go look for the kid," you decide.

You venture down the dark hallway, peering into each room you pass, trying to keep your mind at ease.

Any time you pause for even a short second, you feel your lungs shake in your chest. It was as though they were filling with some sort of fluid, drowning you from the inside out. It made it hard to swallow.

That kid is in here somewhere. Confused. Terrified. Your black silhouettes seared into their little eyes. To this child you search for, you were the boogeyman of the night. The shadowy figure come to haunt their dreams for the rest of their life. Death.

Suddenly it didn't feel as prestigious holding such a title.

You've widowed and orphaned your fair share of families; you're more than aware of that. In this line of work, you're so aware of that, in fact, that you no longer thought about it. The families involved were very much out of sight and out of mind. That's what made the job so doable, because it's easier to shoot bad men when that's all you see them for.

Coming face to face with that reality had you more shaken up than you'd wished. You thought you'd be more prepared for something like this to happen, it was bound to. Yet your hands won't stop shaking.

A few cynical lines of encouragement pop in to your head, as you try to rationalize things and put them into some kind of digestible perspective. It's all you really can do.

Bad people have families too, this is obvious. You have a job to do and a home to keep safe. Had the roles been flipped, you'd be shown the same treatment, if not worse. And you don't deserve to feel any type of way about this. You're the one holding the gun.

And it's not like you're doing this because any of you want to either.

So long as AQ is around and those missiles remain on the loose, your life is gone. You'd know no peace until this situation is resolved. Black Bag left you with no other option. If you want your life back, then this is what must be done.

That's what you keep telling yourself.

You reach the last room at the end of the hall, a child's bedroom. It's not the most lavishly decorated, but you could tell that whoever set it up put a lot of care into making it a suitable space for their kid.

You look around, checking the obvious hiding spots: the closet first, then behind the door. You then check underneath the bed. You admit, you jumped a little when you actually saw the kid hiding there.

The child is tiny, no older than maybe six or seven, with large eyes struck with fear from the sight of you. They don't scream however, too terrified to. Perhaps hoping you would not see them if they remained still.

With your mask on, you looked about as shadowy and hostile as the rest of your team. However, you keep your distance from the kid, looking back to see if the others could see you.

Not a soul stands in the doorway behind you.

It doesn't take you long to decide your next move.

You turn to the child, and simply bring your finger to your masked lips. "Shh."

You tell them to be quiet, praying they stay put, and wishing they had not been here to see this happen. It breaks your heart to see the child's eyes on you like this, and for you to be so helpless at remedying the pain you've caused.

"Shh," you tell them. "Stay."

The kid doesn't budge, though you get the sense they understand you.

You stand and slowly leave the room, shutting the door behind you. With any luck, the others wouldn't come to look themselves. You're sure you'll get chewed out for this, but you were prepared for it. It was needless to involve the man's family in this.

You re-emerge from the hallway, finding Percy and Jeremy standing by in the living room with the target and his wife. They're both apprehended, bags over their heads and arms tied tightly behind their backs. It appears they'd been yelled at enough times to remain quiet, for now. Though the woman still sobs quietly.

"You find the kid?" Jeremy asks abruptly.

Quickly, you run with the best argument you can come up with at the spur of the moment.

"They're hiding around here somewhere," you say. "But we've gotta move. Just make do with what we got."

"Stay here and I'll go look for the little fucker," Jeremy volunteers. "Since you can't do it."

"That's not necessary," you say.

"It ain't like this place is big," he retorts.

"We move out," you put more bass into your voice, standing up tall. What you were not about to do was debate with Shadow 2-0 on whether or not he can personally acknowledge you as his superior. You didn't need his acknowledgement, you are his superior. "That's an order."

Jeremy stands there for a moment, neither speaking nor moving. Almost attempting to intimidate you, seeing if you'd break composure before he did.

You matched his energy however, neither speaking nor moving yourself. Waiting to see if he'd openly disobey a direct order from you.

"We ain't got all night," you cut in. "Now let's move."

Jeremy grabs hold of the collar of the woman's shirt and starts bringing her around to the entrance. "Yup-yup."

Percy follows Jeremy out of the room, bringing Onyx with him, and leaving you in the apartment alone. Your eyes linger down the end of the hall, where that child's door remains shut.

You wondered how long they would wait before they open that door again.

…

You drive a ways out of Kavala, until your surroundings become a deep abyss, the only other vehicles on the road being miles away from where you are. When you've reached a small patch of woods, Graves has the van veer off road. You drive until the woods submerge you, parking off to the right someplace more open.

This far away, you and your company were granted with complete solitude, where no one would be able to hear the impending screaming and crying to come.

You all exit the vehicle in near unison, Jeremy pulling Onyx out from the back of the van. He struggles to stand properly, his leg having been bleeding from the bullet wound on his calf since you left the apartments.

Jeremy merely drags Onyx, bringing the man out in front of the van's headlights. He then throws him against a tree, watching his back slam into the hardwood sharply.

He pulls the sack from Onyx's head and his eyes squint from the bright lights. With his vision still adjusting, Graves and his company appeared as shadows in the black of night.

Graves makes his way over to the arms dealer, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He observes as the man works himself up again, standing to his feet.

"What is this?" Onyx snarls. "You're American, right? Military? You can't do this to me!"

"Who said anything about us being military?" Graves says.

"If you're not military, then who?" Onyx demanded.

"How 'bout I ask the questions from here," Graves gets close to the man, clapping his hands together. "Alright?"

Onyx spits at the commander. "Fuck you, you dog!"

You slowly brace yourself for the inevitable now, remaining some distance from the scene, away from the headlights, within the dark. Graves always liked to give off this cavalier attitude to start things off, but you knew it only hid a man who held incredibly little patience for bullshit. 

Graves wipes the spit from himself and shakes his head, smacking his lips together disappointedly. He then proceeds to bring his fist down fast, his gloved knuckles colliding hard against the man's nose.

The man's head whips to the side violently. The sheer force causes him to lose his footing, as he crashes to the ground, only to then be brought back up to his feet by Shadow 2-0.

"Now," Graves says. "I've got a few questions, and you've got two options. You tell me what I want to hear, or I put the fear of God in you and then you tell me what I want to hear."

Onyx doesn't reply, his nose beginning to drip with blood. Graves takes his silence as an invitation to continue speaking.

"You did business with Ghorbrani, once upon a time," Graves says. "As one of his dealers. One of many, that is. Only he's kicked the bucket, and you're still trading with someone who's got ties with Ghorbrani's old friends. Someone I'm interested in gettin' to know."

Onyx really takes in Graves' question, and chuckles. "I see now," he says. "You're not military but you're with America. You contractors then? Mercenaries?"

"All you need to know is that I want the name of the man you're trading with. The asshole threatening my country. I've got good intel saying you know 'em. So you're gonna tell me."

"You'll see him soon enough," Onyx taunts. "As will your shit stain of a country, dog."

Graves' eyes travel down to the bullet hole in Onyx's calf, which has been steadily bleeding this entire time. The commander looks around at the rest of your team. "Who shot him?"

"I did, sir," Percy answers for himself.

Graves kneels down by it, Jeremy keeping his gun trained on Onyx so that he doesn't attempt to kick and fight his way out of this. The arms dealer helplessly looks down at the commander, fearful of what may come next. You share the sentiment.

"Good on you." Graves takes the tip of his index finger and sticks it into Onyx's bullet wound. The man jolts and squirms and yelps in pain, but Jeremy grabs hold of his arm, keeping him standing in his tight grip.

Onyx's cries echo throughout the woods. It makes you nauseous listening to it.

"Give me a name," Graves tells him.

Onyx can barely talk through the searing pain shooting up his leg "…I'm a dead man either way."

"That might be true," says Graves. "But I'd say you've still got about an hour left in you. Tell me what I want to hear. Who's supplying AQ?"

Onyx doesn't speak.

Graves gives him maybe five seconds before he's pushed his finger uncomfortably far into his wound again. A pained scream gurgles from Onyx's throat, filling the entire area with his mangled voice.

The Commander continues this vicious cycle of asking Onyx the same few questions, and causing him some variation of pain when he wouldn't answer.

Who have you been working with in AQ? Another finger in the wound. Who's trying to replace Ghorbrani? A small series of fists, boots, and knees rumble against Onyx's head and chest. A nose breaks, some ribs crack. His blood begins to stain the ground around him. Give me a name.

In the midst of this brutality, Onyx does let slip a few short answers, but nothing that wasn't obvious or too useful. Someone was trying to replace Ghorbrani, some new, wannabe despot. Whoever they are, that's who's been working with Russia and arming AQ. If they can get a name, that would already be enough for them to take back to Shepherd and Laswell.

Barely a half hour passes before Onyx looks like a pale comparison of himself. His face is littered with various lumps and discolored bruises, his eyes so swollen it was a wonder he could still see, let alone be conscious. If Graves keeps things up like this, there wouldn't be much of him left to work with.

Graves seemed to comment a lot about the way you work as of late, yet you've almost forgotten what it was like to watch him at work, in his prime element. The real him; and how second nature his cruelty could appear.

It comes as a cold reminder.

Graves eventually grew bored of picking at the man's open wounds or beating him, opting for Onyx's fingers instead. He starts with the pinky first, then the ring finger, and then his middle, taking each one and bending it back with a resounding snap. A sharp noise in these quiet woods, one which made you cringe at each break.

You could not understand how unphased and far removed Graves could be with another human. Yet, you know what must run through his mind right now -- the same thoughts you've been trying to remind yourself of all night. You have no choice. Only you see Graves now, and you know those words you've been trying to convince yourself of believing were true in his mind. He had no doubt about it.

To Graves, this is just what needed to be done. To Graves, this man deserved this. And to Graves, it was just another loose end. When that's all he sees you as, it no longer mattered what else you once were. That is simply what you will always be to him.

SNAP!

Another finger gets folded and crunched, sending Onyx into a screaming, rocking fit.

"We've still got plenty o' fingers to go here, bud'," Graves says. He leans in close to Onyx, until his face is only about an inch or so from him, masked and black goggles reflecting back to the man his tattered state. "Give. Me. A. Name."

Onyx's eyes dip, falling to the patch on Graves' arm. He has a realization to himself suddenly. "…That insignia… I recognize it from somewhere… the Rook piece, with the Ace of Spades… I've seen it before…"

"Is that right?" Graves backs away, allowing for him to keep speaking.

"…Back in Al Mazrah."

You see Graves freeze.

"…Konni never put a face to the bodies, but it was your company right? A month or so ago… Yeah, the Shadow Company… That's what those patches said on those corpses…"

The woods around you grow bone chillingly cold suddenly, as the silence screams at you. Onyx picks up on the sudden change in Grave's posture, taking this moment to breathe.

The others stand around silently, unsure of what it was Onyx was referencing, and exchanging small glances. You look to your Commander, who only looks back at you. You can’t see his eyes, but you know exactly what he's thinking.

Black Bag.

This changes everything.

Graves takes a step away from the man, though he doesn't turn his view from him. He reaches up and turns his comms on. "Gold Eagle Actual," he says. "You pick all that up?"

"I did…" Shepherd replies. "Find out what else he knows, get that name from him, and bury him some place deep."

"Copy that, Actual."

Onyx laughs more to himself. "Ah, so that was you from that night… I should thank you. AQ wouldn't be what it is now without your help."

"Shadow 2-0," Graves looks back towards the van. "Go 'head and bring the missus out for me, will ya?"

You watch Onyx's expression waver and drop, beginning to regret the last few things he had said now.

Jeremy drags the woman out to where everyone is standing, throwing her to the ground in front of Graves. She falls chest first, her hands still tied to her back and a sack no longer over her head. She shivers and cries there, feebly waiting.

Onyx begins to speak Russian to his wife, his voice broken and frantic; though you're not fluent in the language, you pick up a few small phrases. Attempts to comfort her.

The woman's voice sobs at Onyx, her words broken by her tears. She isn't allowed to finish before Graves' has grabbed a handful of her brown hair. He grabs her hair tightly and hoists her up to her feet, as she yelps in pain.

This makes Onyx jump up from his spot, mustering that last bit of strength he had in him. It's only cut down by Percy, who sends his foot into the back of Onyx's injured leg. The man falls back down to his knees.

"Leave her out of this!" Onyx demands.

"Or what?" Graves taunts. "I seem to recall my men not being given the same mercy back in Al Mazrah. Ain't that right? You know about it after all."

He pulls the woman closer, watching the way her mascara stains her cheeks, her knees buckling beneath her. She'd tumble over had he not had such a tight grip in her hair. She grits her teeth to mask the pain.

"Meeting you is about to be the worst decision she's made in her entire life," Graves states. "You think on that the next time you call me dog, you fucking scum. You brought this on yourself. Now give me a fucking name!"

Onyx shares a look with his wife, his expression sinking. You can see in him somewhere, he wants to speak up, if not just for the sake of his wife. But the powers above, whoever it was he worked with, the fear of their retribution was enough to keep him silent, even now.

Graves sighs, and brings the woman over so he could whisper in her ear. "Get on your knees for me, honey."

He uses his boot to press into the back of her leg, bringing her down to her knees as he  nonchalantly continues to grip a handful of her hair like a loose rope. His hold on her keeps the woman's head up and her eyes forward. He didn't want her to miss that frightened look on her husband's face.

"There you go," Graves coos. "Good girl."

And then, he pulled out his pistol and placed the barrel right at the back of the woman's skull. She feels the harsh coolness of the barrel, and begins to cry and pray silently in front of her husband.

Graves begins to count down. "Ten. Nine."

Onyx starts to argue with Graves as he counts down, unable to move or do anything without Percy seating him right back in his spot.

"Eight. Seven. Six."

The woman's sobbing grows louder the lower the countdown gets. At this point, you've memorized all the pitches her frantic voice could create, as for that twisted look on her face.

"FIVE. FOUR."

Onyx has turned to pleading with Graves now, but you knew that wouldn't work. There would be no begging with your Commander. He's told Onyx already what it is he wants, his wife is expendable.

"THREE. TWO-"

"Ghorbrani's second in command!" Onyx shouts out. "One of his former colleagues. They lead the charge."

"Their name."

"Hassan Zyani…"

Graves lowers the gun from the woman's head and immediately radios into Shepherd. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" he quipped. "Gold Eagle Actual, we've got a name. Ghorbrani's second in command, a Hassan Zyani. How copy?"

"Copy, Graves. Good hit,” Shepherd praises him. You watch Graves’ shoulders slack with relief, as though he’d been waiting to hear Shepherd say that to him. Which he most definitely had been. 

“I'll have Laswell look into this Hassan and see what she can find out about him,” the General continues. “He'll join the list of other names we've collected, but we'll keep a sharp eye on him ourselves. Sounds like he might be our next stop on the hunt."

"And hopefully the last," Graves says.

"Finish up there, we'll go over the next move when you get back. Nice work. Gold Eagle out."

"Rog'," Graves says. "It was a pleasure, as always, Gold Eagle. Shadow-1 out."

Graves shuts his comms off, and turns back to Onyx, who continues to kneel on the ground. "I told you what you wanted," Onyx says. "So where does-"

The commander cuts Onyx off with a bullet to the back of his wife's skull, as her body drops to the ground. Dead. You hear Onyx scream unlike anything he's let out the entire night.

Graves responds to this by putting a bullet in Onyx shortly after, shooting two more into his lifeless body as it slumped over, just for good measure.

And just like that, your mission was done.

"Whoo," Graves sighs. "Guy was really startin' to get on my fuckin' nerves."

"Him and his dumbass wife," Jeremy chimes in.

They all laugh, only you can't really bring yourself to join in. You're too focused on the two dead bodies lying a few feet from you, their lifeless forms lit by the headlights.

"Well, let's wrap this up here and get goin'," Graves says. "Canary, why don't you help Percy with this."

The sound of your callsign reminds you that you stood amongst these men at this moment. You stood there the entire time.

"Yes, sir."

You make your way over to the bodies, Percy grabbing hold of Onyx as you go for his wife. You take hold of her limp arms, trying not to look at her face too much. Though your eyes unintentionally drop to them from time to time.

Each time they did, you thought about her kid at home. Were they still hiding under that bed, you thought to yourself. Waiting and wondering. Wondering and waiting.

"Do you know what he was talking about?" Percy asks you suddenly. "About Al Mazrah? Was that a job or somethin'?"

You and Percy find a small lake, where you throw the bodies into it. If anyone finds them, it wouldn't matter at that point what was done about it. They would just be another death in the underbelly of some hidden crime ring drama, and your company but another whisper in the night. One more loose end taken care of.

"Ask Graves," you say.

"Yeah, 'cause I'll get an answer from him about it," Percy says sarcastically, before walking off. You watch the bodies submerge in the water, before they vanish deep into the black, liquid abyss below. Gone forever.

You thought of the kid once more. Scared under their bed. Thankful, despite other painful things stirring in you.

It would have been worse, had it not been you here. Both a blessing and a curse.

...Chapter Fourteen Here!

[venus-lou]

Pluto’s help - 141 x f!Reader

Warning: horrible grammar, no plot

Word count: ~650

A/N: This is my first little blurb. I recently lost my job and decided to write a little something. I haven’t really done anything like this lately, art/writing block has been with me for a few years. Hopefully this isn’t to bad.

“Look Kat, I already told you. I am not joining Task force 141. You know I work alone, so I don’t know why you’re pushing this.” Sighing as you leaned back in your chair. You just finished a black op down in Ireland to tie loose ends that the ARW doesn’t want in the books. The safe house was only 8 klicks south of your current location, however the cut running down your leg and the bullet wound on your shoulder was making the hike excruciatingly slow.

The last thing you expected at the safe house was Laswell ushering you in and patching you up. “Look I don’t care if you hate 141 but we need you on this. Shadow Company, General Shepherd went black and I got 141 and Los Vaqueros out in Las Almas in guerrilla warfare.”

You took a deep breath, putting your boots back on. “When do I leave, debrief on the bird?”

“Watcher-1 to Bravo 0-9, you in position?” Laswell’s voice coming through your ear piece. After the debrief, you were to meet with Sergeant Rodolfo at the Vaqueros safe house where Ghost and Soap would be at.

“Nearly there.” Once you landed in Las Almas, it was strangely quiet. Houses and streets empty beside lifeless bodies of residents littering the streets. Threading your way to the safe house, luckily you had no encounter with Grave’s shadows, probably near the center of the city on a man hunt for Ghost and Soap.

“Bravo 0-9 to Watcher-1 going dark. Arrived at location” After hearing Laswell’s afrim, you switch off your radio. Slowly walking toward the door, gun raised prepared for any outlier that might be inside. Looking down you tilt your head to the side, noticing a pressure plate at the doorstep.

“Hmm Colonel Vargas smart man” looking around you notice a window nearby. Taking the knife from your holster, looking for any movement inside “Sergeant Major Parra? Pluto aquí. Laswell me envió”. You made yourself known in broken Spanish, hoping to find someone here. Laswell better have not sent me to a dead end. You thought as Major Parra looked at you from the shadows.

Sighing at the silence you received, you started switching between channels on your radio trying to reach one of the 141 out there.

“Bravo 0-9 to Ghost. This Pluto here to help.” You repeated between channels switching between Ghost and Soap. After a few tries you got nothing but static back, looking around you notice a shadow hiding behind a pillar. Before they can move you quickly throw the knife in your hand lodging it in the wooded post in front of them.

“Pluto? What kinda name is that?” Rodolfo finally came out the shadows approaching you. “Good throw. Call me Rudy” Sighing as you take back your knife “Thanks, I’m sure Laswell filled you in. I’m Pluto, what’s the current situation?

After Rudy explained everything from Graves to Alejandro and the rest of Los Vaqueros being locked in their own compound. You’re currently sitting on a crate cleaning your knife waiting for Ghost and Soap.

Your ear perked up after hearing some ruffling outside, turning to Rudy you both nodded and headed for cover in the shadows. Looking through your scope you notice a skull mask in the window and before you knew it, a knife lodged itself in the wood next to you.

“Ghost? Soap?” The skull mask quickly turned to the left looking at Rudy. You can see the tension in his shoulder loosen a bit. “Rudy. Glad to see you mate.”

Handing the knife back to Ghost “Not a nice gesture for your rescue now is it?”

“Pluto finally joined us huh?” Ghost stared at you for a while before turning to Rudy.

[xf-cases-solved]

S1E6: Shadows

Case: In Philadelphia, Howard Graves, the boss of secretary, Lauren Kyte killed himself a few weeks ago, and Lauren is still really broken up about it. Turns out they had a really close relationship, but in a like, father/daughter way and not a creepy boss/employee way. They had such a close relationship, in fact, that Howard is now acting as Lauren's guardian angel, if guardian angels were the ghosts of dead businessmen who had dealings with terrorist groups in Iran who avenged you by Jedi strangling anyone who tries to cause you harm. Philadelphian agents from a vague, yet menacing, government agency are more interested in shady business practices than ghosts or answering direct questions, Scully has clearly watched too many classic horror movies, and Mulder is willfully participating in a campaign of misinformation. What could possibly happen next?

Does someone die in the cold open: Yes, but they deserved it.

Does Mulder present a slideshow: No

Does the evidence survive the investigation: The evidence completed its unfinished business and crossed over into the light.

Whodunit: Kinda depends on which crime you're talking about. Who committed the crime of doing business dealings with terrorists? That was the stereotypical White CEO Businessman(™) who secretly killed Howard Graves and staged his suicide. But if you're talking about the murder case Mulder and Scully were initially working on before getting roped into the terrorist shit, then the culprit was the ghost of Howard Graves. Naturally.

Convictions: In the terrorist case? Presumably the guy they arrested will serve time. In the murder case? Nada.

Did they solve it: Maybe. While Mulder is pretty certain he knows what's up, Scully remains uncertain and there's no way to prove either of them right. And besides, even if Mulder was right, they could not arrest nor prosecute a ghost.

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: Establishing a good relationship with your boss. Millennials and Gen-Zers today are all about that anti-work mindset, but we're not afraid to say that they are coming from a place of ignorance. Back in the good old days, when people cared about their work, and, more importantly, the people they worked for, they were not only improving office morale, but also ensuring that they would never be in harm's way if their boss was to die under mysterious circumstances. Do you have a lot of enemies you need "taken care of"? Is your boss at a high risk of murder? Then we recommend establishing a good relationship with your boss today!

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 2 (streak lost again)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, it's me" phone calls: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 3 (during two different paranormal events, she happened to be out of the room, only entering moments after the event ended)

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 0

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 1

Total Number of Sexually Charged and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 4 (why did Mulder put his jacket over his shoulder so sluttily if not to seduce his hot partner??)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed: 1

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 2

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 2

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 :(

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 1 (i almost had to, but then Mulder mentioned the Liberty Bell at the very end and saved me)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 1 (so far it's only been Conduit, but we'll see how it goes when we get to Space)

[orioonsstar]

Whimpering and Begging | HurtNoComfort fic

(Heavily Referenced the game for this, its kinda shittily written but i tried nonetheless, plot is changed quite a bii minus the minor details.. word count is like 3800+ so be wary if you read.)

CW/TW: Major Character Death, Angst Soap dies.. i mean what... noooo....

Graves had betrayed them, and fuck did it hurt.

A voice was struggling to pull him back from the harsh ringing plundering his hearing. Soap looked round, trying to figure out who was speaking to him.

Ghosts blurry face came into view, his senses coming too-- "-Johnny, get out of there." He watched a blurry fist come down, "SOAP GO." The words were heavy on his already beating skull, fucking hell... his body twitched as he pushed the heavy body off him. 

"Ghost.." He moved to crawl to him, but Ghost shook his head "Go Johnny, run."

His heart hammered as he looked toward the barrier, he nodded back towards Ghost before pulling himself over the barrier.

"STOP HIM." Graves yelled, he stumbled forward gun shots flying all around him, most narrowly missing save for one -- a bullet shot right through him, he fell hard scraping his knees through his pants. Holy shit.

He tumbled down, falling onto his chest, the dirt was turning to mud and caused him to begin slipping down the hill. He cried out as he tumbled, his body twisted and contorted, head banging against the loose ground.

He could do nothing but take the onslaught of pain being thrown at him.

The shadows calling to eachother became silent as he slid farther and farther away, finally coming to a stop he whined.

"Shi-t," he stammered, eyes wide and filled with tears. He placed a hand over his wound and forced himself up, the pain seared through his body as he got out of there, away from the heavy fire of guns. He was crying now, barely able to breathe as blood pooled in what he hoped wasn't his lungs - god damn it this isn't how he wanted to die. 

Making it to a wall he collapsed, wincing as he pulled his hand away he rasped staring at his blood covered glove, it dripped down and onto his pants staining the dirty brown red. His ears were filled with cries of a young woman, begging what seemed to be the shadows for mercy. Groaning he reached to the comm on his chest, switching the radios until there was silence. Sure Ghost would hear him he spoke into it, "This is- shit, bravo 7-1.. in the blind..." he winced, "How copy?"

He waited a moment, no response. "Ghost, This is 7-1, do you copy?"

Letting go of the comm he felt utterly alone, leaning his head back against the cement wall. He whimpered, "fuck,, Where are you Ghost?" knowing he wouldnt get a response, but needing to keep himself talking if he didnt want to die.

Pulling himself up slowly, he stammered into the alley way, two dead bodies of what seemed to be young men lay there - stiff and covered in blood. What a fucked way to go.. he couldn't help but feel sorry for the men. Pain flared up in his chest, he lost his balance and crashed into the ground, surely he must have a concussion now. He'd banged his head so much...

Struggling to get up his comm crackled to life, "Soap-- This is Ghost, how copy?" There was urgency in his voice, Soap could barely move at this point, crying out as he crawled forward.

"Johnny?" 

Wincing hard he forced himself to his knees, the pain was excruciating sending flares all over his body. He didn't want to move anymore, just wanted to lay there and cry. His comm crackled again, "Johnny... how copy?" 

A twitch of a smile pulled at his lips, so Ghost really did care huh. 

He pressed on the comm, "Solid." It was wheezed out but Ghost didn't catch it, "Thought we lost ya." Fuckin' brits.

On all fours Johnny crawled towards a car, grabbing onto the bumper to pull himself up and onto his feet. He leaned down, Shadows moving somewhere infront of him, he could hear them talking. Graves voice caught his attention..

"2-0.. Your men cordon this area.. Yeah? If Soap, Ghost or Hassan's here, let's keep em contained yeah?" 

And to think he actually started to like Graves. 

Bodies littered the streets, it was a scary sight honestly, nonetheless Soap crawled up to a couple of bodies and sat near them as Graves passed down the road - he nearly wretched at the smell. He was best to keep out of sight though, he wasn't able to fight in this condition. He crawled between cars and next to buildings, he was trying to get to the alley way Graves came from without being spotted.

"Oww" He cried, pushing himself to his feet. He looked around the area before leaning against the wall next to the alley way entrance, Ghosts voice startled him.. had he accidentally pressed the comms button while getting up?

"You injured?" It was stark, straight to the point. 

He felt like he should hide his injuries from Ghost, unsure if he would just leave him behind knowing his condition. He groaned settling for a half and half answer. 

"Whats the difference?"

Ghost chuckled through the mic, "Life and Death." With that he was gone again, Soap screwed his eyes shut for a moment before peaking down the alley way. Three men were at the exit, moving round a car and out into the streets. He hissed lowly, "Where are you, L.T?"

"Theres a church. Im heading to it, lets RV there." There was no fighting the way he said it, off in the distance he could see the makings of a church. He hoped he could get there before he bled out. "You'll need to improvise to survive, keep it careful and maybe you'll make it."

Graves voice brought him back to reality, shit, he peaked down the Alley again, "The shadows are on a killing spree. Fucking murderers." 

"Looking for Hassan."

Soap Tsked lightly, unheard by Ghost, "Hassan and us,  i heard them."

The shadows were threatening and forcing what seemed to be the cartel against the wall, questioning them while using brute force. It was sickening. Holding onto the wall for support he moved down the alley way and behind the parked car, the street was full of Shadows. He ducked against the car, hand flying over his mouth to muffle his cries of pain. 

All he could taste was iron, whether it be from him slowly dribbling out the blood in his lungs or from the blood covered glove pressed there.. he didn't know, he also didn't wanna find out.

"Do it." Graves commanded his men, a few gun shots going off as bodies hit the ground.

Soap grunted, "fucking hell.."

Graves directed his team around the corner, "found some dirty cops, lets go have some fun with them shall we?" He spit on the ground, team following him as he walked out of sight.

Now in the clear he moved forward, Ghost crackled alive in his ear "Advise you move interior, if you're not already. It's good cover."

"Copy."

Watching down the street he moved toward into an open garage, pulling on a door. Locked. "No joy.. doors locked L.T."

"Look for supplies- things you can make tools with." Always good with advice, Soap huffed out a laugh immediately regretting it as his chest lit up like a fire on christmas. "Welcome to Gorilla Warfare, McTavish."

Gathering some supplies he came back to the door, popping it open whilst breaking what he'd just made. The heavy movement of busting the door open made him pause for a break, he leaned against a table, unfinished food and chairs scattered. Someone left in a rush..

He heaved for a moment before continuing on, he crouched around the house, he could hear women and children crying and begging for help. 

"Don't hurt my children.. im begging you.. please.." A woman cried out, a small child screaming for her mother, they continued to cry out as a loud gun shot was heard. Soap winced, knowing he could nothing to help the civilians right now. He hurried out into the living room, moving around. 

"Take the kid, get him out o' here." Graves.. fucking hell.. atleast he wasn't sick enough to hurt the kid. A shadow began talking to the child, "Let's go, come on, you're with me," the child cried, "quiet, come on... shhhh-shhhh."

Graves laughed, "oh look what we got here, more policia. Cops, helping cartels." He paused, Soap froze and covered his mouth, "Let's show 'em how we handle corruption!! Yeah-"

"Happy to, sir." 

"El Sin Nombre, will kill you for this." The cop spoke, anger evident in his tone. Graves barely chuckled, "Oh, no, no. El Sin Nombre's no beuno right now, amigo."

"He'll cut your fucking head off-" A shadow kicked his face in, knocking him to the ground. Soap winced backing up and away from the door. 

"Shut, the fuck, up!" Graves spoke again.. Soap was to close. He backpedaled towards the stairs, limping up them and into an open hallway. "No more talking." 

A guy stumbled out of a corner, knocking into a table and collapsing. 

Soap was startled to say the least, "creeping fucking jesus.." he coughed, then winced. Graves could be heard downstairs, talking to the cop.. it didn't sound all to good. The cop threatening to rip their balls off.

Swallowing, Soap moved forward, toward the fallen man, he barely moved other then to offer a weak groan. Hissing he moved round him, he moved into a sheltered little closet area -- maybe a storage room? Either way a head lamp rested on the ground, 

Graves voice was loud and clear outside, though through the ringing he barely caught the end. "...Keep your head on a swivel for these Brits.. Take 'em dead or alive.. you know my preference."

Soap scoffed, he was no brit.. he was a proud scottsman. 

He focused on updating Ghost on his predicament, "Found a headlamp... not to far away from its.." he glanced back at the dying man, "original owner."

"Good. Careful with it. Can light your way but attract unwanted attention."

"Ouwff."

"Whats the latest?" Was there a tinge of.. concern in his voice? Soap must be loosing more blood then he thought.

Speaking of, he looked down at his abdomen, stomach and chest covered in blood and then some. The latest wasn't good, not good at all. He tsked himself, to hell with it if he was bleeding out, if he was so cold he could barely feel his fingers.. it didn't matter as long as he got where he needed to. He could get help if he just kept pushing.

"Mercs are killing everything in their path." Short, keeping his own problems out of it.

A scoff, "War crimes.."

"Yeah, makes me want to commit a few war crimes of my own.."

"Tyranny. It won't stand." Ghost was a cold blooded asshole but.. he believed in the peace of civilians so.. maybe there was some good in him.

Spluttering Soap knelt down, spitting up blood onto the wooden floorboards, no more then there was before he supposed. "You think we'll get a green light to go after these guys?"

"No more green lights, Johnny. We're on our own." 

That didn't sound to good.

A short few quips later, Soap found himself prying open another door, he found himself in predicament when a caged dog began barking at him. 

"Whats going on up there?" "Dunno, i'll go check it out."

"Shit's hitting the fan right now.." He looked around the room quickly, making an escape through the balcony. He lifted himself over the fence piece, "You see the caged dog?"

Judging by how high up he was, this was going to hurt -- especially since he was incapable of properly putting himself in a landing position. He gnawed on his lip, "Big Geezer. If he barks, shoot him and repo quickly--" No remorse.. "Don't get compromised."

With a pray sent to any gods listening, Soap jumped down landing hard on his side. He gritted his teeth together, fuck that hurt... he laid there for a moment, breathing in and out trying to lessen the pain bouldering in his side and chest.

Ghost crackled through, "Gimme a sit-rep."

Once again forcing himself to stand he groaned, "Outside.. Gated Alley."

"Stick to the edges and stay low."

"Copy."

Leaning against the wall for support he moved round, trying to find a proper exit. "You may get a brag rag for this," Ghost teased, the scott huffed out a laugh, "a medal?" "Chest candy."

"Thats all rubbish." He groaned, "Well, you said you wanted a win. Congratulations, you're a winner.."

Soap smirked, resting against a wall, "Away n' bile yer head..!"

"English, McTavish.." Ghost teased again.

"Sorry sir.. let me translate.. Go fuck yourself."

"Much Better."

Silence over took the two, Soap slinking down the wall to catch a much needed break. He pulled off his vest, revealing a bullet hole that went straight through the back and out the front. "So thats how you're bleeding then.." 

He groaned as he pulled out some duct tape, supposed to use it for something later but right now... he thought he might lose consciousness. He wrapped it tightly round his abdomen, not as good as gauze but would have to do for now. He slunk the vest back over his chest, tightening it with a grumbled laugh. 

He had to keep going.

"I've set up a sniper position in the church tower. Find your way there, and you might just make it." Ghosts most comforting words.. ever. Soap had made his way to the roof tops, watching as shadows beat up and killed three cops, they were berating them for working with narcos. It was brutal to watch.

Clicking on the comms he spoke quietly, "Graves is rounding up cops.."

A response was quick, "Hes judge, jury and executioner now."

The comms crackled before turning off again, Soap sighed as he watched the final cop get his brain shot across the cobble path. As the Shadows began moving away, Soap made his move, sliding off the roof and onto the ground. He winced and grabbed at his chest, the tape was rubbing the wound the wrong way.

Moving round the fountain he picked up a bottle, alerting Ghost to what he'd found, "Good for a distraction. Make it count, Johnny."

The shadows were talking about Ghost over comms, it caught his attention only because of the last sentence. "You're right, you won't see him, if you see him you're dead already."

Soap didn't know much about Ghost, but apparently his reputation proceeds him even now.

He had to get the attention of the guard away from the exit, he gripped the bottle a little tighter. Good for a distraction. He looked around, carefully planning where to throw it. Focusing on the fence he tossed it the guard immediately turning to check it out. 

"Tossed the bottle, worked like a charm."

"Told ya.. Pay attention and you just might learn something.."

Cheeky bastard.

Pain flared in his chest suddenly and he fell forward, barely catching himself. He pulled himself behind a planted bush, squeezing his eyes shut tight and begging for the pain to go away, begging for the ringing to stop. All he could see was white, all he could hear was ringing and that is not a good sign.

He took control of his breathing, and slowly the ringing faded away until he was able to hear the guard move back into position. Shit. He'd wasted his opening because of this stupid injury. He groaned, moving to his knees and looked round the area spotting another bottle. 

Hurriedly he picked it up, he aimed slightly farther away and threw it. The guard didn't react like he had before though, merely turning in the direction and shining his light. It was better than nothing though.

Quickly Soap slid by him and into an open doorway, he grabbed another bottle as well as some wax.. he was sure it'd help later -- lord was he right, he found some chemicals and Ghost was happy to tell him how to make a smoke bomb.

"A Toxic distraction."

Soap smiled, "Sick.. I like it." As long as he didn't hurt any civilians in the process he was all for it.

Ghost was quick to quip back, "Guarantee you they won't." The teasing edge was back, replacing the serious undertones he'd been replying with. Soap made his way out of the.. shop?.. He didn't quite know, he slid past another guard and down a back alley. A dark and cold back alley. There was no way out through here, he had to go by the guard. 

Not knowing if he'd actually win the fight due to his injuries, he rested against a shop door.. Mentally preparing himself to die in a fight against a shadow personnel. Pulling a bottle from the ground he took a deep breathe, slowly moving towards the Shadow. 

"Feeling weak are you?" Ghost startled Soap, causing him to take a few steps back and press against a nearby wall. "A bit shaky-Sir. Yeah."

"Graves tried to kill us, would stand to reason if you were a little off."

Of course yes, the trying to kill them through him off but the constant pain in his chest and arm was another factor -- a factor he wouldn't bother the Lieutenant with, but a factor nonetheless. "Find a stim- it'll give you a boost."

"Yes sir."

Slinking by the Shadow again, Soap moved into another shop, he found more chemicals and a mouse trap.. that could prove to be pretty useful.

He stumbled down a hall way, falling into an open door. A dead Shadow greeted him, "Ghost, you missing a knife?.."

"Several."

Soap was a bit to excited, "Think i found one."

A little cheeky Ghost crackled through the comms, "Some of the dead shadows are.. my handiwork."

"You came through here?" His voice cracked slightly, but he covered it with a cough. "On my way to the church."

"And you left me?" Soap wouldn't lie, that kinda hurt.. almost as bad as being shot in the chest. "I'm used to working alone." Ghost, ever so heartless.. 

"So much for no man left behind." He was a bit snarky in his response, but he was hurt that Ghost would just leave him. "Just.. get yourself to the church. 'M tryna keep you alive n' get you here in on piece. One of us needs to survive to tell the tail."

That one of them seemed more, and more likely to be Ghost with how hard it was to breathe. But as always.. Soap bit through it. "Taking a shine to me then?" Trying to joke his way through the pain.

"Not in the slightest." That was more then obvious. "Still got a lot of ground to cover."

With a sigh, Soap pulled himself through a window, he moved down the alley way finding a small black box. Opening it revealed some interesting treasures... "Seek and ye shall find.."

"Whatchya got?"

"Black powder." They seemed to jump over the last hurdle, going back to how they were before. 

Soap could hear the slight smile through the comms, "Nice, this could get interesting.."

Pulling out the tape, and mousetrap Soap fashioned a homemade mine.. so the mousetrap did prove to be useful. He took a moment before deciding to tell Ghost, "a man after my own heart." It was teasing, breathless and most of all not meant to be flirty.. but it struck somewhere in Soaps heart, he bit back a smile.

"Thought you'd like that."

"You thought right."

Now smiling, he made his way round the streets, a shadow blocked his exit. Slowly he creeped up behind them, having taken the knife with him, he launched up grabbing the shadow in a choke hold and stabbing him in the neck. He threw them down, pulling the knife out and taking their gun. 

The Shadows comms were going off, asking Shadow 3-1 to respond -- unfortunately he wouldn't be responding any longer. He shuffled away from the body just as the comms crackled again, "this is Shadow 2-7, im on my way to check out 3-1."

"Copy."

Soap hurried to move out of sight, pulling himself into a nearby shop and moving out and around. He dropped his head down a Shadow moving just outside the building, he crawled out the open door and into the streets. He sprinted across the street and into another building, Ghost coming to life in his ear. 

"You'll need to go through the tunnels, keep in mind sergeant theyre flooded. It's gonna be a cold swim."

"Yes sir.."

He'd waded through the tunnels, taking out guards in his way, taking breaks when needed. All this movement made him feel like he was about to pass out, but he was so close to finishing this, to being safe. 

"I've got your back sergeant, im you're guardian angel right now, stay safe."

Soap groaned, as of current he was tucked against a wall -- Ghost was keeping watch, heat flooded his chest. He pulled out an adrenaline shot, he'd had it tucked away just for this. For when he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself up anymore. 

He popped the lid and slammed it into his thigh, eyes rolling back as relief immediately flooded his system. Easily moving to his feet he shuffled to the door, trying the handle only to find it locked -- with a grunt he manufactured a pry and weaseled it into the door. Popping it open only to met with a Shadow, knocking him on his ass and pointing a gun at his head. 

"GET DOWN!"

It was commanding, his ears rang from the brute force of being knocked in the head with the barrel of the gun. His sight went black for a moment as a gun shot rang out, blood splattering all over him and bringing him back to his senses. 

Another Shadow moved forward and he was quick to shoot them, crying out as he pulled himself to his feet. So much for the adrenaline shot, he thought to himself. Moving out of the building, shooting any Shadows that dared come to close. 

"Holy hell.. Ghost was that you?"

"Who else?.. Now go." It was urgent again, Ghost could tell they were on bought time, if they wanted to RV they had to move fast. 

Johnny moved quick, making his way to the church, he watched as Ghost threw himself over the fence. "That'll do, sergeant."

Soap smiled, he took a second before opening his mouth, Ghosts eyes widened "Shit Johnny-" But it was to late, a bullet rang through the air. Slicing clear through the centre of Soaps neck, he collapsed against Ghost, spluttering,, "No you made it Johnny, c'mon, you made it."

Ghost returned the fire, pulling Johnny with him to behind a car, the latter was spluttering and coughing, tears in his eyes. "G-ost, p-se" He cried hard as the pain took ahold of his body, there was no saving him from this. 

"Johnny, no come on, Johnny stay with me."

Ghost hated to admit it but he'd grown attached to the Scott, he imagined they'd be good friends after this - heaven knows Ghost needed one. "Johnny.." He spoke softly, wiping his sweaty hair from his forehead. 

Heavy gunfire was upon them, and as much as it pained Ghost to have to leave Johnny he couldn't carry the body with him. He couldnt save Johnny from this. 

With a soft smile, Ghost lifted his mask just enough for Johnny to see, if he could see at this point. "You did well kid, so well." With a pained smile, Johnny went limp in Ghosts arms. He was going to kill Graves for this, Johnny had so much to live for, he was so young and inspired.. with hatred in his heart he pulled down his mask and got to work, killing every Shadow in sight.

[8-rae-rae-8]

To Save A Life - Chapter 6/?

Graves x Roach

No criticism please <3

Tags under the cut

Hurt/Comfort, Canon Typical Violence, Roach has trouble talking, Graves knows how to save a life (shocking), Roach x Graves, takes place in 09, Task Force 141 as Family (Call of Duty), Author Has Never Played Call Of Duty, Quite a few people are dead already, I'm not killing them, preshadow company, Graves doesn't have his shadows yet, Young Philip Graves, Young Gary Roach Sanderson, Past Simon "Ghost" Riley/Gary "Roach" Sanderson, (that is only potentially I haven't decided yet), Graves is considerate and kind??, Coma, it's inaccurate though, Pre-Graves being evil, inaccurate coma, slow burn, disabled character, suicidal thoughts, references to depression, guns, shooting, dead characters, [Some may be added or changed]

[start]

Noises all faded into each other. Shouts and orders he couldn't make out. It all sounded like chaos. His eyes worked with him, allowing him the vision to scan the area as much as possible. Heart straining in his chest.

Someone came to him- Graves… Graves came to him, standing over him in the helicopter as he undid all the straps on the stretcher. He was slung over Graves' shoulder without so much as a second thought. Words fell from Graves' lips, but it fell upon deaf ears.

Everything suddenly felt like it was shaking. An earthquake? No, they were still in the helo still, no?

Well, not for long. It was about a 6 foot drop, but Graves jumped out while he had Roach over his shoulder. Doing what he could to protect him from the harsh landing. A small ‘oof’ came from Roach, not that he realized it was even him who made the sound.

He realized a lot of the chaos he heard were shots. The familiar sound finally rung in his ears. Bullets pierced the helo’s plating, as Graves' team followed his lead of jumping out.

Then they weren't there anymore. They weren't where the helo landed.

It happened so fast, how did they get inside?

His head spun. Nausea pooling in his weak stomach. His eyes had closed again.

A familiar voice called to him, a hand on his cheek as if it would assist him in feeling better.

“Roach, eyes open, come on.” It was a soft order. It all felt so much harder than that. Nothing was that simple, not for Roach.

Fear, panic, adrenaline and an underlying anger held him in place. Sharp inhales and slow exhales coming from him. But his eyes just wouldn't budge again.

“You're safe.” the american said, trying to promise it to Roach. Even though they had just been attacked.

An attack or a hit, the latter was more likely.

“You passed out.” Oh. Well, that made sense for how confused he was. It didn't help much knowing that information. At least he had an answer.

Silence filled the small room briefly, dim with light. Graves moved from where he'd laid Roach. He kept talking, but not to him. The radio on his chest kept receiving updates from his men. Until it all cut out.

“0-2?? Do you copy?” Graves' voice had an undeniable edge to it. His steps were heavy as he was making it to the door.

“He's down, 0-1!” One shouted through 0-2’s radio. The sound of whirring gunfire and shouting was audible.

Graves had a choice to make. Help his men, or stay Roach.

Graves chose the first.

“Stabilize him, 0-2! I'm coming. 0-1 out.” That was all Roach heard before the thumping of boots as they ran from the room and outside.

The room was silent. Too silent. Roach forced his eyes open. His breath felt strained, but not in a panicked way. He wasn't getting enough oxygen. Removing him from the hospital wasn't their smartest decision. But they had to make do.

His eyes closed again. Not quite of his own volition. His body merely couldn't handle more. Rest was needed. Even on this uncomfortable excuse for a bed.

Unfortunately, rest wasn't something Roach got.

For a moment, everything was fine. It was quiet. Just a small breeze coming through the small room from the open door. That was okay. Not a cause for concern.

It got loud again. Roach's eyes opened in a panic. Drawing in a breath, that stretched his burned skin to its max. The pain added a new level of burn to the already burnt parts of him. His mind felt hazy as he was getting used to it.

“Get him in!!” So, not much time to get used to it. Graves' voice cut through the haze like a brand new knife. The sound of at least three men came through the area. Not into the small room, but the one next to them. A bigger one. From what Roach could tell, there was one that was laid on the floor. But he was going off sound.

“Pulse steady. Get me a tourniquet!” There was a desperation to Graves' tone. He could tell Graves felt very strongly for his men. Always needing to help and protect them. A friend to his men, not just a leader.

Roach could admire that. Reminded him of his own team. There was that thought again. Since everything, it made him deeply upset. His breath shallow and slow.

“Tourniquet, damnit!” Roach heard Graves raise his voice. There were feet scurrying away, then quickly coming back. Roach guessed the item had been found.

“Thank you.” Came the much softer reply. It was back to quiet after that. From what Roach could tell, the wound got tended to and the rest of Graves' men came into the base. Claiming they'd been successful, their attackers not so much.

Then the steps came back in his direction.

His eyes hardly closed the entire time. Perhaps the panic or worry making it so he couldn't rest.

Graves' eyes seemed to flicker down, to Roach's side. Then growing wide.

The blue fabric of the hospital gown having a small bit of red on it. Roach was unaware of this fact, evident by the look in his eyes.

“Ya’ll get some first aid!” Graves shouted to the larger room. With gentle movements, he untied the first strap on the back of the gown, enough to see the damage to Roach's side.

“Roach, you doin’ okay?” The american asked, softly checking what had happened. “Must've picked you up wrong or something.. you're all irritated and cut up from somethin’.”

So maybe the pain of his deep breaths had been exasperated by a wound that was already there.

“We'll get you patched up. Stay strong, soldier.”

[end]

[cagemasterfantasy]

Dnd Unused Subclasses: Barbarian: Path of the Lifeless

Not all that live in the wilds of nature find themselves in areas filled with life. Some might find themselves living in areas steeped in necrotic energies whether this is a forest beret of all life, a swamp filled with deadly miasma and rot, or something else where light and life is a rare treat.

Some warriors find themselves seeped with these necrotic energies and use it as tool in combat. Whether they gained access to this by just their people living in a region rich in necrotic energies for such a long time or some ancient hidden ritual that the elders perform on the most promising of warriors. In general those that find themselves using this boon begin to take on traits that the undead of their homeland exhibit.

Level 3 Form of Dread: Beginning at level 3 the necrotic energies that infuse you can be unleashed in a horrifying burst. When you rage you gain the following benefits:

Once during each of your turns, when you hit a creature with an attack, you can force it to make a Wisdom saving throw (the DC equals 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Strength modifier), and if the saving throw fails, the target is Frightened of you until the end of your next turn.

You are immune to being Frightened.

The appearance of your rage can reflect some of the undead native to your home. For example, your form could be of a shroud of shadows draped and dancing across your body, your skin going deathly pale and lifeless.

Level 6 Grave Touched: At level 6 the undead energies that empower you have a profound effect on your body. You don't need to eat, drink, or breathe.

In addition, when you hit a creature with an attack and roll damage against the creature, you can replace the damage against the creature, you can replace the damage type with Necrotic damage. While you are raging, you can roll one additional damage die when determining the necrotic damage the target takes.

Level 10 Mortal Husk: When you reach level 10 your connection to undeath and necrotic energy now saturates your body. You have resistance to Necrotic damage. If you are raging you instead become immune to Necrotic damage.

In addition, when you are reduced to 0 hit points, you can cause your body to explode. Each creature within 30 feet of you takes Necrotic damage equal to 2d10 + your Barbarian level. You then revive with 1 hit point in your previous space, along with your gear, and you gain 1 level of exhaustion. Once you revive this way, you can't do so again until you finish 1d4 long rests.

Level 14 Spirit Projection: Starting at level 14 your body is now simply a vessel for your spirit. As an action, you can project your spirit from your body. The body you leave behind is unconscious and in a state of suspended animation.

Your spirit can remain outside your body for up to 1 hour or until your concentration is broken (as if concentrating on a spell). When your projection ends, your spirit returns to your body or your body magically teleports to your spirit's place (your choice).

While projecting your spirit, you gain the following benefits:

Your spirit and body gain resistance to Bludgeoning, Piercing, and Slashing damage.

You have a flying speed equal to your walking speed and can hover. You can move through creatures and objects as if they were difficult terrain, but you take 1d10 force damage if you end your turn inside a creature or an object.

While you are raging, once during each of your turns when you deal Necrotic damage to a creature, you regain hit points equal to half the amount of Necrotic damage dealt.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

i'd like to hear some headcanons for your "georgie can see dead people" au! :0

oh thank you so much!! this is probably going to be a little messy, since i haven't actually started the fic, but!! here is something!! :) (also i am so sorry for all the sixth sense references. the actual fic will undoubtedly be worse.)

1. So the basic premise of this AU is that the end result of Georgie's encounter with the End is that, instead of losing her ability to feel fear, she gains the ability to see the dead. Everything goes the same otherwise: the protest, Alex, the dead woman, Georgie waking up days later at home, the months of strangeness and unfeeling. The difference is that when Georgie wakes up, she can see the dead woman, too. Never too close—only in corners, behind doors, in the window. And never always, but only in the moments that feel crucial. The moments where she's searching for something of herself. Her mother hugs her and she sees the dead woman over her mother's shoulder. 

Georgie sees Alex, too, sometimes. Closer and more head on; she is always looking back. But she never speaks, and neither does the dead woman from the room. It isn't until she begins to see other ghosts that she realizes they can talk, if they want to. If they choose. 

(Six months later is when Georgie figures out how to lock the dead woman out. She stops seeing Alex shortly after, except on occasion. Sometimes she'll see a flash of those familiar eyes in the mirror, over her shoulder, and they always seem to be apologetic. But Alex still never says anything. Georgie gets good at pretending that this doesn't hurt nearly as much as losing her.)

2. Jon is the first one that Georgie almost tells. Almost. They're honest with each other in a way that Georgie usually isn't, when they first meet, and she almost thinks he'd believe her. They talk about ghost stories all the time. 

She mostly thinks about it when she sees Jon's ghosts. It isn't often but she sees them. He'll talk about what little he remembers of his parents, or pull out some old, faded pictures, and she'll see the faces reflected in the kitchen, the bathroom mirror, Jon's bedroom. He never talks about the apparition of a strange teenager that appears, once, when they both wake up sweaty from frantic nightmares and he refuses to explain, and Georgie doesn't press. He doesn't tell her about Mr. Spider and she doesn't tell him about the ghosts. Much as they love each other, they do still have secrets. 

Georgie goes to his grandmother's funeral years later, even though they're barely talking at this point, and almost tells him then. Seeing him stand mostly alone at the grave, looking monumentally alone, and then a flicker of his grandmother behind him—she almost does. But still she doesn't. She's never told anyone before, and she and Jon aren't really in touch, so she just hugs him and tells him she's so sorry, and doesn't meet the eyes of the woman watching behind the fresh grave. 

3. Melanie is another person Georgie almost tells. They still meet through their connections—Ghost Hunt UK, What the Ghost, and Georgie's power is (probably unsurprisingly) very useful for the paranormal podcast business. (All her episodes aren't pulled from real life, from her own experiences—that would be irresponsible, and there's more clout in retelling familiar stories. But sometimes when Georgie runs out of episode ideas, she'll visit a spooky place, write down what she sees, do a deep dive on the history, and fill in the gaps by attributing her sightings to "unnamed" witnesses.) She's met a lot of people in the ghost hunting business, but Melanie stands out, because they hit it off so immediately. Start hanging out outside of work drinks, at parties or pubs or research stints. Melanie starts inviting Georgie to consult on the show, or to collaborate, and Georgie uses what she sees to point Melanie and her team towards real sightings. Why not? Might as well have the horrible power be useful for something. Haley Joel Osment solved his problem by helping people, and this isn't the same at all (and that's a movie, anyways), but it is something. 

So she and Melanie become fast friends, faster than Georgie is used to, and Georgie genuinely thinks about telling her. She trusts her, and she doesn't think Melanie would laugh, or call her a liar. (Melanie's got stories about not being believed, too; it's common in the paranormal business.) She thinks Melanie might be the right person, maybe. Just maybe. 

(She doesn't end up doing it. She's still a coward when it comes to that. But it isn't because she isn't tempted.)

(The idea to tell Melanie comes before she starts seeing Melanie's father. But that fact doesn't help her decision, either. In quiet moments with Melanie, Georgie starts seeing the man in Melanie's framed photos in the shadows, looking at Melanie with sad eyes, calling her little moth. But Melanie can still barely talk about her dad, and the accident, and it feels even more wrong after he starts showing up, to tell her. Georgie worries Melanie might think she's making fun, or making something up to make her feel better, and she doesn't see this going well.

Instead she says, sometimes, I know your dad loved you a lot. Melanie says, Yeah, I know, too. Georgie says, And I bet he misses you, even though it isn't a bet; she knows. But she can't tell Melanie, and that's as far as it can go.) 

4. The most significant time Georgie wants to tell Melanie, but doesn't, is the one she'll end up regretting the most in the end. When Melanie gets out of the hospital, first, and then when she comes back from India; when Georgie is basically the only friend Melanie has left from her old life, and therefore is probably the person Melanie goes to the most. The person Melanie confides in. 

So Georgie is there to see it all. She'll be sitting across from Melanie in a pub, or beside her on the couch; she'll brush Melanie's hand with hers, or their knees will knock together, and Georgie will see flashes of blood, violence. Hear screaming. She'll see haunted faces out of the corner of her eyes: soldiers, doctors. Muzzles of guns. Once, a stained hand gripping Melanie around the leg. 

She'll regret it, later, but Georgie doesn't say anything; she doesn't know what to say. She's never seen anything like this, even with over a decade of seeing ghosts. How is she supposed to explain it? She doesn't really know what it means. Melanie talks about war ghosts, and Georgie listens, and she rationalizes that Melanie will have to be okay. (She was okay, when it was her, and if—if this is something serious, something worse, than… then Georgie will be there. Melanie will have someone who understands.) 

5. One night in February of 2018, Jon shows up back in Georgie's life, looking shell-shocked on her doorstep. He stands in the hall looking mildly terrified, when Georgie opens the door, and behind him stands a dead woman, looking desperate and furious all at once. 

"Georgie," Jon says weakly. "I-I know it's been a while, but…" 

"Jon! Christ, what happened to you? Are you all right?" Georgie says, trying to take in Jon and the dead woman all at once. (She is new—Jon must have had someone else close to him die.) She focuses on Jon, puts a hand on his shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

"I… I'm fine." Jon's hands twist in front of him. "I… didn't know where else to go."

Georgie swallows hard and says, "Are you in trouble?" The dead woman is looking right at her. Georgie keeps looking at Jon. 

"I… yes." Jon chews on his lower lip. "If… I know it's a lot to ask, b-but I… could I… possibly stay here for a little while?"

Georgie swallows hard. She has a dozen questions—what's happened, why he needs somewhere to stay, why he looks like this—he looks like he's been through emotional turmoil, through hell—and worse, why a dead woman has followed him here. But she doesn't know how to ask these questions. And she can't just turn him away. Jon helped her heal during one of the worst periods of her life, even if he doesn't know it. And she can do the same. 

"Yeah," Georgie says, and leans forward to pull Jon into a hug—tentative at first, and then stronger, when Jon latches on like he needs it. "Y-yeah, Jon, of course."

Jon rambles out a frantic thank you, layered in with apologies and copious promises to pay rent, but it becomes harder to listen. Right over Jon's shoulder, the dead woman is staring right at her, her mouth hanging open. She's got long hair and glasses, and she looks exhausted, and it isn't immediately obvious how she has died, which is unusual. And she's looking right at Georgie. She says, suddenly, "Can you—can you see me?"

It isn't the first time a ghost has spoken to her, but it's a rare enough occasion to be shocking. Her throat is thick with surprise, and she can't say anything in front of Jon, so she just sort of imperceptibly nods. Holds the dead woman's gaze for a moment. 

"Fuck," says the dead woman. "Thank—thank god, thank Christ, I…" She pauses and looks at Jon, then back at Georgie, still numbly hugging Jon there in the hall. "My name is Sasha," she says, and Georgie thinks of the scene in The Sixth Sense where the sick little girl under the blanket asks for help. "Can you… can you help me?"

(send me an au and i'll give you 5+ headcanons)

[ggukkieland]

📕BTS Fic Reads - 2020 August

Okay so I’m such a hoe for fics that I probably have about a hundred on queue but I can’t help appreciate all the works that these awesome writers put here on Tumblr and AO3. 

Here’s my attempt to organize my readings - though if my mood fluctuates, I’d just end up going through my reblogged fics for reading or sorting through my watchlist of ongoing/incomplete fics/series

✅ -  done reading   | S (smut) F (fluff) A (angst)

🥕[Ongoing Series - to check weekly]🥕

Dangerous Pairing @nightowls388 - KNJ |  supernatural  au, fantasy au, forbidden romance

[2/?] “Whether you’re a vampire or werewolf, love is still love. Betrayal is still betrayal.”    

Queen Cobra @fantasybangtan - KTH | mafia au, undercover au, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, thriller, s, f,a

[8/?]  when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

Arranged by obiwrites (AO3) - JHS | arranged marriage, unrequited love, angst, pining, jhs in love with someone else

[19/?] If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her.

Image, Bad Boy @kittentaegu​ - JJK | badboy, fwb, angst, smut, more angstttt (I binge-read on this for the angst), adorable JJK when he’s not an fboi

[14/?] I chose to read this on AO3. Incomplete, but Ch 14 had such a satisfying ending -  When by chance you walk in on the school’s infamous bad boy, not once, but two different times in one day; your life quickly spirals out of control.

I’ll Sue You, Min Yoongi by hosexi (AO3) - MYG |  neighbors, enemies to lovers, angst, smut, lawyer!reader

[9/10] Yoongi is the neighbor from hell

Whiskey Neat and Whisking Trips by lacielre (AO3) - KTH | comedy, fake dating au, baker!reader, veterinarian!taehyung, funny 😂🤣, ex!Jin

[2/4]  This is a story about the night you poured your heart out to your ex outside his apartment building as a stranger yelled at you to “shut the fuck up,” and that stranger, who was just as wounded as you, was Taehyung, and he needed your help.

His Side, Her Side @scriptaed - JJK | he said, she said, f, a

[11/?] a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be  - one last chapter before series ends 😥

Black Swan @softlyjiminie - PJM | professional dancer, enemies to lovers, fake dating, figure skating, s, f, a

[2/?] a life of skating was all you’d ever known, your heart craving the feeling of ice beneath your feet and the light brush of cool air against your skin under thousands of sparkling lights… what a shame, if only you’d known that one night, one accident could rip you from the life you’d grown to love, leaving your career in the unsteady hands of the prince of ballet, park jimin.

The Key to my Drawer @jjungkookislife - KTH | bestfriends to lovers, s, a

[10/?]  A key, a drawer, and a secret Taehyung planned to take to the grave

The Nanny @jjungkookislife - KSJ| lawyer!seokjin, nanny!reader, single dad au

[2/?] Jin hires a nanny for his son, but when he hires you, he gets that and so much more

Acatalepsy @1kook - JJK |   survival au, apocalypse au, s, f

[2/?] Jungkook didn’t understand, and the longer he ponders it, he realizes maybe he never will. Some things are just better left unknown, he supposes. But that didn’t mean one had to face them alone. 

Aphrodite in War @jungblue - JJK | angst, exes au, fake dating au, roommates, sorority/frat wars, college au *this is really good 😍😍*

[2/?] Everyone knew about the war that had been brewing on the edge of campus for the past two years. Sorority versus Fraternity; a showdown for the ages. However, when the escalating antics between them yields the consequence of possible suspensions for both chapters, the presidents of each house must come together to try and figure out how to end this battle… Which is kind of hard, considering they were the ones responsible for it in the first place.

Palate Cleanser @btsmakesmehappy - KTH | agent au, fwb, strangers to lovers, s, f, a

[5/?] Part of The Company series -  Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

Bad Guy @taehoneys - JJK | college au, fratboy au, badboy, good girl(?), 

[3/?] chose to read this on AO3 A certain video circulates the school after your big mistake and you never do mistakes, but you did this time…a big one: J e o n J u n g k o o k

Good Girl Series:  Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl  @bonny-kookoo - JJK |  good girl au, bad boy au, roommates, established relationship, s, f, a

[5/?]  Jeon Jungkook was known to have a specific type when it came to his partners; tall, gorgeous, dominant and older. When a new girl answers to his ad online searching for a roommate, he didn’t quite expect such an innocent being to turn up at his doorstep And what he definitely didn’t expect was his growing interest in her and the feeling of having her under him, all submissive and ready to be ruined. 

Agent of Love @ppersonna - JJK |  social media au, agent au, s, f, a

[1/?] as the FBI agent assigned to your phone, Jungkook keeps a diligent watch. he takes a special interest when you try your hand in online dating AND online sexting. desperate to keep you from bombing yet another potential date, Jungkook breaks his vow of silence to assist you in your plight to get laid.

Irregular Heartbeat @ppersonnakookies - MYG | social media au, surgeon!yoongi, intern!reader, 

[5/?] hot girl meets hot guy at a bar, lets him buy her a drink, then hooks up with him in the bathroom without even asking for his name. your typical friday night cliché. except for the fact that you’re a virgin, and the guy you drunkenly lose your v-card to is your superior at your new job.

Somewhere Only We Know @userseok - JJK | hybrid au, pining, angst, fantasy, smut

Prequel SOWK 1 SOWK 2 [being revised by author] Epilogue [to be posted]

you’ve been chasing after jungkook for years. after a harsh verbal altercation between both of you, you decide to leave him alone and pursue a relationship with someone who seems genuinely interested in you, thinking he would never return your feelings.

Elysee @ironicarmy - KSJ |  angst, drama, CEO!Seokjin, personal assistant

[1/?] Being the CEO of Korea’s largest fashion house is no easy feat. But to be the person behind the man, that being his assistant, is an even harder spot to maintain. In a company filled with affairs, bribery, deceit, lies and blackmail, you must struggle to survive and, eventually, climb your way to the top of the food chain. Seokjin, your boss, trusts you more than anyone, but when exactly does the line between friendly camaraderie blur with carnal desire? 

Beautiful Deception @jiminwreckedme​ - MYG? | mystery, thriller, ex!yoongi, angst, smut

[3/5] When your ex-boyfriend’s wife goes missing, you are the only one who can help him find her. But in a world where everyone is a friend and everyone is a culprit,  how will you find out what happened to the woman he loves?  Without falling for him all over again?

🥕[Completed AUs/Series/Drabbles -  to read]🥕

One Thing Right @hobios - JJK | fake marriage au, childhood friends, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, smut

01  02  03  04  05  06  07  08  09  ✅ (done, read it twice - this is just perfect ⭐ holy grail status)

Carousel @yoonia - MYG | mafia au, arranged marriage, heirs, CEO!Yoongi, suspense

Index: 16 Chapters & Epilogue | Drabbles and short stories |  Playlist |  Fan Edits

*a re-read this holy grail of a fic 🥰

Risk It @kookiesjoonies - JJK | social media au, exes to lovers, angst, smut ✅

Driving Me Wild @joonkookiemonster - JJK | demon prince!JJK, roommate au, comedy, fluff   ✅ (done reading, this is really cuuute 🥰)

Redefining Destiny @threeletterislife - JJK |  soulmates, enemies to lovers, mafia, fluff, crack, angst

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 (*have to read Yoongi’s story first*)

Rattled @gukslut - JJK | single dad au, angst, pining, enemies to lovers, neighbors, smut 

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three  Chapter Four   Chapter Five  Chapter Six  Chapter Seven  Chapter Eight Epilogue ✅(done)

*was reading this when it was ongoing, but stopped at Ch 5 (angst was too much for my heart 😢) - thrilled to binge-read this from the start 😍

Guarded @xjoonchildx - JHS | mafia au, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tsundere, smut

01 02 03 04 05 06 Epilogue  ✅

Never Falling @yoonia - PJM |  Enemies to Lovers!au, Singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, Assistant!reader, Smut, Angst, slow burn ✅(done)

Spellbound @minflix - PJM |  witches au (sort of based on the secret circle),  smut, comedy, fluff, light angst, enemies to lovers

Lie @yoon-kooks - PJM | angst, fluff, based on movie “Flipped”

0 // 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15 // 16 // 17 // FINAL

On the Sidewalk of Champ Elysees @taeramisu = KTH | journalist!KTH, exes to lovers, smut, angst, paris, slow burn

Little Monsters @yoon-bug - MYG | established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, s, f  ✅

Take One @taetaewonderland - MYG | pornstar!yoongi, fanfictionwriter, strangers to lovers, s, f ✅

The Habits of a Broken Heart @softykooky - JJK |  soulmates au, unrequited love, art student!JK, english student!Y/N, angst, fluff, subtle enemies to lovers  ✅(done)

Into the Wilderness @gukyi - PJM | camp counselor au, unrequited love, friends to lovers

Oops @honeyj00ns - JJK | love at first hear, comedy, fluff, smut, “ You don’t know who the wonderful voice singing in the shower is, but you need to know”  ✅

A Song Request @n8dlesoupguk - JJK | drabble, romance,  where you always listen to the same radio station and he lives in the apartment complex opposite of yours ✅

Oh My God, They Were (Quarantined) Roommates @ot7always - JJK | roommates, quarantined life, college, smut, fluff ✅

Your Favorite Cardigan in Summer Nights @prodkkyu - JJK | one shot, angst, high school sweethearts, exes au, summer fling  ✅

Crimson Park @heartbeatan - JJK |  mafia, boss!reader, mystery, angst

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 (Final) ✅

Pranks @mysecretatticsstuff - JJK | enemies to lovers, prank wars, angst, smut, fluff ✅

Too Long, Didn’t Read @fortunexkookie - KTH | college, writers, enemies to lovers, fluff ✅ (done reading, love love this)

You’ve Got Mail @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong - JJK |  Barista!Reader, Graphic Design Student!Jungkook, angst, ex-lovers, enemies to lovers  ✅ (done reading, love this)

Love at First Oink @glodenclosetau- KTH | social media au, neighbors, friends to lovers, piggies 🐽, romance, fluff, comedy ✅ (done - the cutest smau ever)

Sugar @seokjxnnie​ - MYG | ceo!yoongi, escort!reader, personal assistant, smut ✅

Amor Vincit Omnia @sunshyngal - MYG | Mafia au, arranged marriage, angst, violence, drama

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20  ✅

My Euphoria @beyochu​ - JJK | fake dating au, fluff, ceo!jungkook, florist!reader, romance  ✅ (done, really adorable)

All Aboard @ve1vetyoongi​ - KNJ | smut, officeworker!namjoon, enemies to lovers  ✅

[saokpe]

HDLW SIbling Week 2020 Day 1: Adventure

It’s time to celebrate the most chaotic quartet of siblings know to duck kind with little DnD inspired fic! 

@hdlwsiblingweek2020

Ducks and Dragons

“Are we ready to start our adrenaline pumping adventure!” An ecstatic Huey proclaims over the table. His siblings occupying the remaining seats, hovering their confused gazes over a collection of figures, plastic dice, and hardcover books.

“So, uhm-” Louie begins, still analyzing the display of trinkets ahead of him, “-this is a game about pretending to go on adventures, a thing we do almost every day?” The duck’s cynical suspicion directs itself towards the cap-wearing triplet, the 10-inch cardboard wall between them doing little to block it. 

“It’s not only about going on an adventure, dear Llewellyn-” Huey agonizingly teases, “It’s about making a story!”

“Wait, wait, wait, do these colorful rocks have NUMBERS on them!” Dewey intersects, ruthlessly inspecting one of the oddly shaped dice, “I thought you said this was going to be fun! This looks like MATH!” The brother’s biting fury echoes.

“Oh c’mon guys.” Webby attempts to calm the derailing group, “I’m sure this’ll be fun. So I get that these plastic toys are to throw at other players, but what about this sheet of paper?” The girl raises the assigned and already filled character sheet, her innocently oblivious eyes curling curiously.

“No-” Huey stops himself from spewing the erratic words that were sure to fly in his frustration, “Why don’t we just start playing and see what happens from there, ok?”

“Alright.”

“Okey-dokey.”

“Better than whatever Scrooge had planned for the evening.”

“Perfect,” Huey takes a deep breath, scanning over his story notes quickly before re-addressing the party. “The night sets across the peaceful landscape, soon to rise again. Beneath the twilight, a tavern proved lively and bustling. A truth one realizes once they enter through its welcoming walls looking for a group which can help in a mission placed upon them by those that be, something that your character, Webby, is experiencing right now.”

“Oh cool!” Webby looks over to the table, “Is this when we start throwing stuff?”

“No; Dewey,” Dewey dismisses the perplexing dice he fiddled with throughout his brother’s monologue, gifting his attention to Huey now that he called his name, “-you said you were a Bard, right?”

“Yes!” He answers confidently, allowing himself to think the question through after the fact. He leans closer to the game master, “That’s the one that sings, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes! I am a Bard!” Dewey’s previous enthusiasm manifests.

“Alright then. Webby, your character, as they dash inside the busy establishment, the sound of blasting music welcomes you. You see, standing above the sea of guests, an extravagantly dressed…” Huey signals towards the now enthralled Dewey, his awestruck gaze not shifting at the motion. Seeing no difference, he waves again.

“What is this, what are you doing?” Dewey, still maintaining his smile, asks impatiently.

“Describe your character.” Huey returns, whispering between his teeth.

“OH!” The Bard straightens up, “I’m wearing a loose contortment of cut up robes of various different colors,  and, and, he has this really cool guitar thing that kinda looks like an egg, which was weird and cool and I imagine it sounds like an electric guitar and he is rocking it, I mean totally destroying the stage. And-”

“Yeah, you get the picture,” Huey interrupts, directing himself at one awfully silent player. “How about you, Louie, what class are you?”

“Huh?” The addressed duck doesn’t move from his slouched seat, his hand fidgeting restlessly with the phone he placed his full attention on. “I don’t know, Geography.”

“I mean your Ducks and Dragons class.” Huey’s monotone corrects, sizzling annoyance in every word.

“Oh,” The brother looks over to his increasingly complex character sheet, darting across it in search of this so-called class. “Ah! Here it is.” His eyes narrow as his hands pull the piece of paper closer to his eyes, “Rogooe? Roge? Rojue?” 

“A rogue, got it.” The dismissive voice of Huey clears, a lack of further enthusiasm in his tone. “Webby, as you continue to travel through the various tables and chairs, you notice the figure you were told spent his nights in the dusted corners of the tavern you stood in. Counting the shining amulets of small gold pieces, Louie would you please describe your character.”

“Right, right, uhm, Class: Rogwe, Race: Elf… Duck? Background: Charlatan, Experience Points: 0, and Player Name: Louie Duck!” Louie triumphantly tosses the paper back to his corner of the table, falling back to his seat, staring over to his brother’s dumbfounded face with a smug and arrogant snicker.

A deep sigh sounds through the table before Huey continues, “So you see this Elf Duck, seemingly unaware of your permeating gaze, what do you do?”

“I walk towards him.” 

“Ok, Louie, just as you are about to account for the last of your previous odd job’s payment, this huge looming figure shadows over you. Webby if you could please describe your character.”

“Of course!” Webby raises from her seat, tilting her shoulder as she prepares her speech, directing her body to the somewhat disinterested Louie, catching his attention. “Standing before you, enveloping you, trapping you in their intimidating silhouette is the plated figure of a Half-Orc. Shattered armoring stabbed and overgrown over their bulging muscles, their tusks matching the dark greens of their slashed and scarred skin. My expression matching those with little value for life, I sit at the opposite side of your empty table.”

“Do you do anything about it.”

“No…” Louie responds in a petrified, wide eyed, and high pitched squeal. His now straightened and attentive body shaking as it prepares for conversation. 

Clearing her throat, Webby prepares her following sentence, which emergers in a voice that isn’t her own. Deep and gravely, a tone probably acquired from various almost-fatal strikes to the jugular, the frightening figure tells Louie’s character. “Are you Laten?”

“We’re doing scary voices now?” Louie, his voice quivering over the overpowering presence of this alter-ego his sister had made for herself, directs to the game master. 

Huey shrugs in response. 

“You mean AWESOME voice! Go on, keep going!” Dewey waves, resting his chins over his palm as he anticipates the following interaction.

“Alright then,” The cowardly duck relaxes himself for a second, allowing the immediate paranoia to wash over before responding, “Depends on who’s asking?”

“Name’s Worerdurk, I have a job for you.”

“Hey Huey, it says here that I’m a Thief Rojue, does Webby’s character have, like, a money pouch or something,” Louie breaks character.

“OOOOOOOH-” Dewey begins, “You’re gonna steal from the big giant Half-Orc person!?” 

“Just gonna check.” A mischievous grin can’t help but manifest itself over the lying schemer’s face.

“Roll a perception check then.” Huey instructs.

“Uhm,” The previously smiling duck looks down to his basically encoded paper, “What would that be?” 

“Oh, over here.“ Webby leans from her side of the table, knocking over many of the placed figurines, pointing to the skill section of the character sheet. 

“No! Don’t help him Webby, he’s gonna steal all your gold!” Dewey attempts to prevent foreseen disaster. 

“It’s alright, it’s just a game.” The victimized party assures.

The still singing Bard’s player thinks the question over, eventually whispering to himself, “No… it’s a story…”

“Ok, what do I need to roll?” Louie, still unsure in his statements, asks.

“The d20.” Huey casually instructs.

“And that would be the…?”

“The bigger round one.”

“Got it! Alright…” Llewelyn’s hand grasps onto the small plastic dice, his forearms vibrating, bouncing the tool between their fingers before it’s released, clashing across the table. “I got an 18 plus something.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely enough. You look across Worerdurk’s outfit and it seems to you that they don’t have any money on them.”

“What?” Louie’s surprise is directed back to the smiling Webby, “You expect me to do a job with you for no money then?”

“Oh, I promise you a hefty amount of gold will fill your pockets. But I think we might need a third party.” The grizzled voice suggests.

“Oh, do I hear that! Can I go over there?!” Dewey, quickly excited, bounces and pleads to his elder brother.

“Ehhh, it’s a bit Meta-gamey, but sure, why not. Your performance has ended and you rush to the corner of the tavern.”

“I don’t know what that means, but HELL YEAH!”

“So as you guys are discussing this, emerging from the stage at the opposite side of the building is an attention grabbing Duckling.”

“A Duckling? Like a child?” Webby attest. 

“Yes!” Dewey answers.

“No.” Huey corrects.

“No!” Dewey repeats.

“A Duckling is like a different race, like Elf Ducks and Half-Orcs, their traditionally not very tall, this fellow that ran over isn't much different.”

“HEY! HI! I’m Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewerius, Dewerius the Amazing and Awesome, the coolest of my triplets and a very talented performer, it’s a pleasure.”

The table of players meet each other's gaze before resting them over the unrefined Dewey. Huey questions, “Is, uhm, Dewerius-”

“Dewerius the Amazing and Awesome."

“Dewerius the Amazing and Awesome, is he supposed to, y’know, represent a specific someone or is inspired by maybe his player or?”

“Hmm, let me think- nope, not at all, now,” He looks back to Louie and Webby, elegantly singing, partly out of note, “Are we going on an adventure or not?”

“Yes,” Louie naturally falls into character, the fluidity forcing a smile on Huey’s beak. “What exactly are we doing, Worerdurk?”

“The biggest hoarder of gold in all the land has a rather large bounty on their head, I was looking for some help to spend all of it once we kill em?”

“Ooooooh, and who is this shrewd gazillionaire? Don’t say Scrooge, this is gonna get really awkward if you say it's Scrooge.” Dewey’s charisma saps to a deadpan monotone.

“Oh don’t worry my tiny friend,” Webby’s harsh imitation of gruffness assures, “Think more a fire breathing dragon.”

“Well that’s definitely interesting,” Laten speaks out, “Only legend speaks of the wealth they carry, you can count me in.”

“And count me three!” Dewey, I mean Dewerius (the Amazing and Awesome) adds. 

“Perfect. Uhm… So what do we do now?” Webby returns to her usual voice, honest bewilderment in the question. She shares an eye with the rest of her party only to be met with the same insecurity.

“Well you can do anything you want!” Huey, still recovering from the serotonin of his family's enjoyment of the hobby, optimistically yells out.

“Anything?” Dewey asks again.

“Yes! Anything! That’s the beauty of D&D, the world is your oyster, it's a game where you can do and create anything that comes to your imaginations!” 

The playing siblings share a mischievous smile as the realization of what the excited declaration implied falls over the game master. As an almost telepathic link befell Webby, Dewey, and Louie; Huey screams out:

“Wait! No-”

The party then proceeded to spend the next four hours doing literally anything but killing a dragon. An unexpected turn for the story that Huey did not plan for. Poor kid.

Read all of my HDLW Sibling Week fics here

[cinnaminsvga]

stuff i noticed in the “on” mv

this is by no means a theory post, but i just wanted to point out some things that caught my eye when i was watching the mv... and also, please note that bighit is notorious for using imagery from a myriad of media, so most of these references might not even be right!! i’m just utilizing my own stock knowledge of literature/history and connecting them with the mv that i think closely associates with them!!

the drummer boy in jimin’s scene: in war, there were people known as “drummer boys.” they are usually (but not always) young boys who played the drum to serve as military music. it was also used to help the soldiers communicate with one another, as well as to keep them marching in sync. the number of drums behind jimin could very well mean the death of dozens of drummer boys, as only one boy remains with him. the boy is also wearing striped pants, and this is only interesting to me because it might mean that he was, well... in a concentration camp. (if you’ve ever watched/read the book “the boy in the striped pajamas,” you’ll understand what i mean.) might be a bit of stretch, but it’s there lmao

in relation to that, seokjin’s opening scene: clearly, a war or battle had taken place just before the scene. casualties lie around him, with one other person in the bg, possibly another survivor. the dead dove shot by an arrow could represent the death of hope. in many forms of literature, doves have often been used to symbolize love, peace, messengers, and hope. it’s death is poignant in this scene, as it represents seokjin’s hope having been killed along with the death of his friends. 

jungkook running with his thorn restraints: this... was a little trickier. what struck me the most was the short second where the camera pans (0:48) and you can see the walled city behind jungkook. this could mean he had been a prisoner of war, or perhaps just a jailed citizens who managed to escape. thorns are very notable in catholic imagery, as jesus had been crowned with them during his death and crucifixation. jungkook might have been on the brink of being sentenced to death and had managed to escape. 

the blindfolded girl and taehyung: this is the one i’m not as sure of. it could be related to lazarus and his resurrection. when lazarus had been raised from the dead, he was still covered in his bindings, but that doesn’t really explain her being “blind.” the other association they could be making is with plato’s famous “cave”

“Plato has Socrates describe a group of people who have lived chained to the wall of a cave all of their lives, facing a blank wall. The people watch shadows projected on the wall from objects passing in front of a fire behind them, and give names to these shadows. The shadows are the prisoners' reality.”

BIG BRAIN EXPLOSION AWOOOO LMAO

this also explains the wall that they are in. this walled society is where they know as their reality. when jungkook escapes, he is the first person out of that “cave” and he finally sees the world outside of their little wall. but then....

jungkook faints (GASP!): but notice that when the camera changes to hoseok, he is no longer in the same place. note the lack of trees in the first photo versus the second photo. what could that mean?

jin has rewound time: aaaaand we’re back to that hyyh bullshit LMFAO jin still has time powers!! amazing!! and this is even more apparent by the dead dove he had caught in his cage. the dove, which had been killed previously, suddenly moves in the cage (covered in cloth by the way... in lazarus’ resurrection, no one actually sees Jesus resurrect him. he just comes out of his grave by himself) and you can also see in 1:47 that jin looks out of the window, possibly bc he sees that the world outside has changed

namjoon and his ark: i think everyone knows this one... noah who?? namjoon is standing in front of a wrecked ship, surrounded by animals. the ship looks pretty old, so perhaps this signifies the time waaay after the great flood, but then why would the animals be there? inch resting

yoongi and the church: the first thought that came to mind immediately was that this was a funeral service. the candles are a big giveaway... and then notice the crowd he’s with. they’re all women. way back during war, there was no place for women except to stay at home and wait for their husbands, brothers, and fathers to return home. these women are the remaining survivors, holding vigil for their fallen brethren.

BACK TO TAEHYUNG AND HIS LIL GIRL: i also need to mention this little screenshot as well...

when the girl stands, staring ahead as if “seeing,” this could signify that taehyung’s eyes have “opened” as well. in the beginning of the mv, he had been casually laying about, perhaps okay with the way he was living despite being literally trapped inside a cage. but what strikes me is the way taehyung follows the girl’s line of sight, as if noticing the wall for the first time. and when he removes her blindfolds... it turns out she was never even blind in the first place. she had blinded herself for no reason at all.

jungkook and his conch shell: WELL OKAY THIS ONE GOT ME EXCITED BECAUSE!! THE WATER!! okay water has always been a symbol of “cleansing” right? in catholic imagery, john the baptist used the river to cleanse people of their sin... if jungkook had “escaped” the prison and found himself in, say, paradise... he sinks his hands into the water while bound by thorns, and pulls up a... conch shell. he’s free, and he has a conch shell!! A CONCH SHELL

conch shell: i first thought about lord of the flies... how it represented civilization, power, authority... but i could also represent courage, truth, and reawakening. RESURRECTION. he escapes his prison, and so... why would he need resurrection? unless, of course...

jin returns... with a crowd of people: JIN REALLY ACTUALLY TURNED BACK TIME THE ABSOLUTE MADMAN... they head to the wall, where they find the wall open. there is a whole world out there.

jungkook blows the conch shell: the trees regrow. the mountain burns, just like in the bible when the bushes burn when moses is given a revelation by God on the mountain. jin releases the dove, just like how noah released a dove as a messenger to see if it’s safe. 

namjoon leads the way... to this new world that has been opened to them... jungkook rushes to the apex, excited. they’ve been reborn, now filled with a dream to live fully. 

[4dorks-1windmage-1shadow]

The Links as D&D Characters, Part 5: Shadow Link

Inspired by a question I saw on @hauntinghyrule ‘s blog. My character analysis and thoughts on what character class the boys would be if they were D&D characters, and why. Also! @atinybitweird has been drawing the boys D&D designs, and she’s doing really great! I’ll link to her posts on the individual analysis as well as reblog them here so look out for those : D

Green / Red / Blue / Vio / Vaati / FS Zelda

As a preface, there won’t be any doubles on classes except in the case of dual-classing, and in those cases the first class I talk about my justifications for will be the primary class (i.e. the class they would have chosen at level one). My choices will be based on the character theming and personalities, even though at a base level it would be easy to say “they’re all paladins, duh” because of the implied “holy knight chosen by the gods to eradicate evil” concept. For Shadow, there are plenty of shadowy-themed D&D subclasses to choose from. Kaenith mentioned Way of the Shadow Monk in his initial answer on his blog which is actually not a bad pick for him. However, I wouldn’t initially say that Monk is the class for Shadow, because he’s shown relying on magic much more than martial arts (like a Monk would) or even swordplay (like the other Links). He has a sword in the manga, but I think it’s mostly for show- a visual parallel to Link, who does use his sword to fight. This is just a small part of the big reason why I’ve chosen the particular classes and subclasses I have for Shadow, so lets look at the reason as a whole: Shadow’s origin, and how it ties well into the Sorcerer class.

The Four Swords manga and the Four Swords games don’t give us a lot of information about how Shadow Link was created (if he was born vs conjured like Dark Link) and also what exactly the Shadow Realm is. We never actually see the realm that Shadow came from (except for the Erune arc in the manga, and only a small town) so we have no idea if it is a true shadow version of Hyrule, like the Dark World/Lorule (if you believe they’re the same place) are. Furthermore we don’t see any evidence that there are others like Shadow Link, like we do with Lorule with Ravio being a parallel to Link and Hilda being a parallel to Princess Zelda. There’s nothing pointing to the idea that Shadow was born and raised the way a normal kid would be, and so the most logical conclusion canon-wise is that he was literally conjured from Link’s shadow. Magic would be weaved into every fiber of Shadow’s being, and we see this evidenced in the manga because he wields it naturally and easily against the Links. Sorcerers in D&D can be born as well as made, but the key thing that separates the magic sorcerers use from the magic used by wizards, bards, druids, clerics, and warlocks is that a sorcerers magic is innate, often carried through a bloodline or via transforming from the latent energy of a place. In this case, Shadow was literally made with the arcane magic he controls. Xanathar’s Guide to Everything introduced a Sorcerous Origin called Shadow Magic where the arcane magic is sourced from the Shadowfell (i.e. Shadow Realm for authenticity to Zelda), either through being exposed to and transformed by the energy of the place or from being descended from a denizen; neither of these situations are applicable to Shadow BUT I think being created from the source magic should and does count. The majority of Sorcerer abilities come from their Sorcerous Origin, but there are two features that all sorcerers regardless of origin gain that I think fit Shadow based on his story in the manga. Font of Magic and Metamagic can be linked to the Dark Mirror being Shadow’s source of life and magical power because of the abilities that Shadow is able to display while being linked to it. Font of Magic gives Shadow access to Sorcery Points, which he can spend to create new spell slots, or sacrifice spell slots to gain more sorcery points which effectively translates to giving himself more power to wield in battle. Metamagic lets him twist the magic of his spells to suit his own needs, using sorcery points to do so. It can let him double the range of spells, double the spells’ duration, potentially do more damage on a hit and target more than one opponent with a ranged spell that normally only targets one creature. I’m choosing to translate this as him getting a boost in power and flexibility that he normally wouldn’t have without the power of the Dark Mirror (though depending on your interpretation of post-manga shenanigans he could have these abilities anyway because of whatever method brought him back allowed him to have them). Back to Shadow Magic though. Thematically it makes the most sense: Shadow Link is created from shadow magic and thus is a Shadow Magic Sorcerer. But the abilities here are what we want to look at to see if it really fits. At 1st level, Shadow Magic gives Shadow a darkvision range of 120 feet, and the Strength of the Grave ability means he can charm his way out of death. That’s not entirely accurate- the actual text says he can take a Charisma saving throw and attempt to equal or exceed a target number equal to 5 + [amount of damage taken], and drop to 1 hit point instead of 0 if he succeeds. I think this makes sense- if he’s a shadow, he’d be able to slip out of battle or narrowly avoid life-threatening attacks just by the art of deception; this isn’t necessarily supported by the Sorcerer class itself, but if you mix the game canon into the manga canon, Shadow can technically clone himself and use those copies to his advantage. At 3rd level, he learns the Darkness spell without it counting against the amount of spells he knows, and he can cast it with either sorcery points or a spell slot (he can see through the effected area of the spell if he casts it using sorcery points). At 6th level, he can spend sorcery points to summon a shadow creature that effectively acts like an attack dog, which he can sic on a creature within 120 feet of him. Shadow is shown leading an army of monsters in the manga, so the Hound of Ill Omen feature actually lends itself well to that image- maybe one of the creatures he used to attack Hyrule Castle was his magically summoned shadow hound. It isn’t that far-fetched of an assumption to make. Shadow Walk lets him teleport through darkness and dim light up to a distance of 120 feet, which is an ability he already portrays in the manga and in the games. The only Shadow Magic ability he doesn’t get to benefit from is Umbral Form, and that’s because I want to call a parallel to Link that I think is fitting for Shadow’s role as his foil in the story. Shadow is not a copy of Link- I don’t want anyone to get confused by what I’m saying. However, he is still Link’s shadow, the reflection of everything Link could have become if he wasn’t the hero, didn’t grow up with all the people around him who loved him and supported him. Shadow’s main motivation in the story is loneliness and the desire to be recognized, but who is going to recognize him if he doesn’t make himself recognizable? I talked at length in my analysis of Green’s class about how Paladins take oaths that serve as pillars for their conduct and core beliefs as paladins, but what happens if you don’t have any of those beliefs or you did have them but chose to cast them away? In the Dungeon Master’s Guide, it describes a class option for Paladins called the Oathbreaker: essentially a paladin who has abandoned or broke their sacred oaths. Shadow probably never had any oaths to begin with, but he wanted to be recognized the way Link was, and so I think he chose to take the mantle of Paladin without really understanding what makes Link (Green) a true Paladin. He has to take at least 3 levels in Paladin to subclass as Oathbreaker, and that unlocks light and medium armor, shields and all weapons for him to use in combat. It also unlocks spells like Hellish Rebuke, Inflict Wounds, and if he takes up to 5th level in Paladin, the Crown of Madness spell. He still gets all of the normal Paladin abilities, but his Channel Divinity options are kind of the opposite of Green’s: He can control undead creatures with it, or use Dreadful Aspect to create an aura of fear around himself with a radius of up to 30 feet.  Depending on how you look at the option of Shadow being redeemable, there is an option for Oathbreaker Paladins to “atone” for their evil actions as an Oathbreaker. They lose the Oathbreaker features and gain the features of a Sacred Oath, and I can’t think of a more fitting tribute to his character journey than him becoming an Oath of Vengeance Paladin from the Player’s Handbook. It lets him fill a different niche of paladin than Green does, and takes his character into account in regards to the Tenets of Vengeance: Fight the Greater Evil (Faced with a choice of fighting my sworn foes or combating a lesser evil, I choose the greater evil). No Mercy for the Wicked (Ordinary foes might win my mercy, but my sworn enemies do not.) By Any Means Necessary (My qualms can’t get in the way of exterminating my foes) Restitution (If my foes wreak ruin on the world, it is because I failed to stop them. I must help those harmed by their misdeeds) Taking Oath of Vengeance in this way would replace Hellish Rebuke, Inflict Wounds and Crown of Madness with Bane, Hunter’s Mark, Hold Person and Misty Step, and the Channel Divinity features include Abjure Enemy (inflicting fear on a targeted creature) and Vow of Enmity (basically pointing at an enemy and saying “I choose you” and then he gets to attack them with advantage for a minute [10 rounds of combat]). In conclusion, Shadow ends up as a dual-classed Shadow Magic Sorcerer/Oathbreaker Paladin (later changing to Oath of Vengeance Paladin to account for character growth). 

[tigerkirby215]

5e Senna the Redeemer build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Riot Games)

Friendship ended with Xayah and Rakan; Senna and Lucian new best LoL couple.

I really don’t have much to say on why I wanted to make a Senna build other than “she’s cool and Lucian has best girl.” But seriously can we talk about how hype Senna’s release was? Lucian was fighting for SIX YEARS to get his wife back and then... he did. Senna’s trailer honestly made me shed a tear I felt so happy for the guy.

GOALS

Light - Senna is the redeemer of lost souls, and fights along with Lucian in Sentinels of Light. Naturally she needs some divine Damacian protection at her side.

And Darkness - Her time in the lantern has given Senna some lasting changes. She can turn into a screaming cloud, among other things.

Be free... - Senna seeks to set the lost souls of the Shadow Isles free, and also uses her powers of light and darkness to keep her allies alive.

RACE

Senna is a human but all that time in Thresh’s lantern has changed her quite a bit. Normally I’d just go for a Variant Human but I thought we should spice things up a bit: the Mark of Finding from Eberron is perfect for a Survivalist who spent their life running through a soul-filled lantern. Your Wisdom score increases by 2 and your Constitution score increases by 1, and unlike most humans you start with a Darkvision of 60 feet from all the time you spent in the darkness of a... lantern. Thresh you want to fix the light in there?

But the main skill you gained in there was Hunter’s Intuition. If you roll a Perception or Survival check you can add a d4 to the roll: note that this does stack with spells like Guidance for quite a bit of insurance when trying to spot a lost soul or survive in a realm full of them.

You also get access to Finder’s Magic which just gives you a big ol’ list of spells along with some innate spellcasting. I’ll cover all the spells you get when you’re at a level to cast them in the build. You also know Common as well as Goblin. "Yeah, I met someone in there. He's a ghoul goblin. We fell in love and made ghoul goblin babies..."

If your DM doesn’t allow Eberron: Feel free to play a Variant Human. Increase your Dexterity and Wisdom by 1. Take any skill you want (I’d argue Religion would be in-character) as well as any language you want and take the Sharpshooter feat for more accurate shots with your relic cannon.

Also for whatever reason the Spells of the Mark don’t appear on the D&D Beyond virtual character sheet, so I’ve elected to not mention them in this build.

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Running all your life from the terrors in the mist takes a lot of dodging skill, and while that Relic Cannon might weigh a lot it takes Dexterity to aim it.

14; WISDOM - To fight with both the light and dark you don’t need brains; you need sympathy.

13; CONSTITUTION - Senna herself says that The Mist is like you’re drowning. You ever held your breath for 6 years? I don’t think so. Also this is mainly to balance the +1 to CON from Mark of Finding.

12; INTELLIGENCE - You’re the brains of the operation, even if Lucian doesn’t want to admit it.

10; CHARISMA - Senna is best described as “rough around the edges.”

8; STRENGTH - Even though your Relic Cannon weighs a ton I’ll chock that up to the Curse of the Black Mist more than Senna’s actual upper body strength.

BACKGROUND

Even at a young age Senna was corrupted by the Black Mist, and the Haunted One background from Curse of Strahd is for those with a dark past. You choose 2 proficencies from the listed skills: take Religion and Survival for training both as a Sentinel of Light and as a survivor of the Shadow Isles. You also get one exotic language and while I always suggest to take what you think will be useful Deep Speech is likely the most common language of the creatures of the mist.

As a Haunted One you get a Heart of Darkness. A look into your green eyes will reveal a tragic past, and will influence the local priest to help you and possibly hook you up with his son. Commoners will be able to tell that you have a tragic past and will do anything to help you, even helping you fight if your old warden corners you when you’re alone.

(Artwork by Paul Nong)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - CLERIC 1

Senna started out as a Sentinel of the Light, which means that we’ll be starting off with Cleric. (Truth is that we’re mainly doing this for Saving Throws.) Clerics get proficiency in two skills from the Cleric list: choose Medicine for sure along with any of the other skills on the list: they’re all in character for Senna. (I personally opted for Insight.)

But unlike most subclasses Clerics get to choose their archetype at first level and Grave Domain Clerics fight for the dead and the living. Grave Domain Clerics are part of the Circle of Mortality: if you cast a healing spell on a target with 0 hitpoints they are automatically healed the maximum amount, and you get the Spare the Dying cantrip with an extended range of 30 feet. Spare those whose souls have already been lost, and keep those on the brink of death alive for the fight to come.

Your training as a Sentinel of the Light also lets you see what needs to be purified with Eyes of the Grave. You can use an action to detect any undead within 60 feet until the end of your next turn. You can’t sense them if they’re behind total cover or are protected from divination magic, and you know nothing about them other than the fact that they exist. You can use it a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

But Clerics get Spellcasting and... woo boy there’s a lot to say here. Let’s take it from the top!

Mark of Finding Humans get Finder’s Magic, allowing them to cast Hunter’s Mark once per Long Rest.

Death Domain Clerics have the Bane and False Life spells always prepared.

You get 3 cantrips at level 1: Guidance lets you help Lucian with his dashes or his taxes, Light lets you provide a light in the darkness (duh), and Thaumaturgy lets you use the Curse of the Black Mist to do some spooky things. (Read the spell for the full list of effects.)

Finally you can prepare 4 spells at this level: Healing Word will let you quickly pop a heal at range with Piercing Darkness, Shield of Faith will let you shield your husband from a warden’s hook, Guiding Bolt will let you mark an enemy for your allies to assist with, and Protection from Evil and Good will protect any Purifiers while they try to save you.

Clerics get to prepare their spell list daily so be sure to swap your spells out for what you need: I’m just making suggestions.

IF USING CLASS FEATURE VARIANTS UA: Cause Fear is very in-flavor for Senna but is unfortunately restricted to the Class Feature Variants UA, so only take it if you’re allowed.

But remember that Clerics are prepared spellcasters, meaning that you can swap out your spells at the end of a Long Rest. I’m just picking the spells that are the most in-character for Senna but you’re more than welcome to choose something you think will be more practical.

Oh and as far as Senna’s Relic Cannon goes: at this level you can only use a Light Crossbow, but we’ll get the option to use something heavier soon enough.

LEVEL 2 - CLERIC 2

Level 2 Clerics can Channel Divinity for the light of Demacia aid them. All Clerics can Turn Undead to force undead to make a Wisdom save or run from the reconning. Grave Clerics can also mark a target with Path to the Grave, giving them a Last Embrace and vulnerability to the next shot fired at them. Light them up so Lucian can shoot them down! You can use your Channel Divinity once between short rests.

IF USING CLASS FEATURE VARIANTS UA: You can also use your Channel Divinity to Harness Divine Power, getting back a level 1 spell slot as a bonus action. It’s not much but it’s certainly something.

You can also prepare another spell like Detect Magic to know if anything is hidden in the mist, and if that spider really is a spider.

LEVEL 3 - RANGER 1

Hopping over to Ranger to learn how to shoot a Relic Cannon! Firstly you gain Martial weapon proficiency as a Ranger which will let you swap out the Light Crossbow for a Heavy Crossbow to replicate the Relic Cannon flavor. But more importantly you get another skill proficiency from the Ranger list and the Athletics skill will help make up for your low Strength score.

You also get a Favored Enemy: obviously you’ll be fighting Undead with your husband’s help. You have Advantage to track or remember information on your Favored Enemy. You also get another language and I’d recommend picking whatever’s useful.

You’re also a Natural Explorer in your favored terrain and I’d argue that the Shadow Isles are a Swamp of sorts. You get a bunch of advantages while traveling through your favored terrain which I recommend you read on your own time.

Of course mind you that these are just suggestions for these features: remember that Ranger is a class you have work with your DM in order to get maximum value out of them. Talk to them about what you’re going to fight and where you’ll be: Senna can shoot Galio just as well as Thresh.

IF USING CLASS FEATURES UA: Natural Explorer is replaced with Deft Explorer - I recommend the Canny feature for more help your husband out some more. Take the Perception skill and Expertise in either Medicine or Survival to keep fighting on the Shadow Isles.

Favored Enemy is also replaced with Favored Foe: you can cast Hunter’s Mark a number of times equal to your Wisdom modifier and don’t need to concentrate on the spell. These uses of Hunter’s Mark come back on a Long Rest just like your class feature Hunter’s Mark, so I’d suggest saving them for when you need to concentrate on something else but still dish out extra damage.

In addition 3rd level Humans with the Mark of Finding can cast Locate Object without using a spell slot once per long rest, so if you need to find a giant stone gun or a lantern you won’t have any trouble finding it.

LEVEL 4 - RANGER 2

Second level Rangers get a Fighting Style and while Archery may imply the use of a bow it works just as well for aiming a giant hunk of lightstone with a +2 chance to hit.

You also get access to Ranger spells at level 2: Zephyr Strike speeds you up for Absolution, letting you avoid Attacks of Opportunity when you move. In addition you can give yourself Advantage on an attack roll, ending the spell to increase your damage with 1d8 Force and giving you 30 feet of additional movement speed for the turn.

Hunter’s Mark meanwhile is likely a spell you’ve gotten used to since it’s part of your race: you can mark a target to a d6 extra damage to them and have Advantage to track them. You can move the mark to someone else within 90 feet of you if the original target dies.

LEVEL 5 - RANGER 3

At level 3 you get to choose your Ranger Conclave and Gloom Stalker is perfect for those that spend their life running from the mist. You get Umbral Sight which increases your Darkvision by 30 feet and helps you hide in the mist, making you invisible to any creature with Darkvision if you’re standing in darkness. You also get Dread Ambusher: you have a bonus to your initiative equal to your Wisdom modifier and during the first turn of combat your walking speed increases by 10 feet. In addition you can attack twice on your first turn, and your second attack will do an extra d8 of damage. Just a reminder that technically you can’t attack twice with your Heavy Crossbow, but if you have a nice DM or an Artificer willing to lend you a Repeating Crossbow it is fine. Alternatively you can just use a Longbow and reflavor it as a Relic Cannon.

You also get Primeval Awareness, letting you use a spell slot to detect if there are any aberrations, celestials, dragons, elementals, fey, fiends, or undead within 1 mile of you. Or alternatively you can use Primal Awareness to get access to some innate spells. I suggest looking at the Class Feature Variants UA for a list of the spells you can cast with Primal Awareness.

You also get access to the Disguise Self spell for free along with one new spell of your choice: take Ensnaring Strike to lock your enemies down with Last Embrace. “One last breath...”

LEVEL 6 - RANGER 4

4th level Rangers get an Ability Score Improvement and seeing as our Dexterity score is uneven grab the Resilient Feat for Dexterity for proficiency in DEX saving throws and an increase to your DEX modifier.

WHY NOT ANOTHER FEAT? - The only other Feat that increases Dexterity which would be useful for us is Athlete, which isn’t too important for a ranged build.

(Artwork found on lol.gamepedia)

LEVEL 7 - RANGER 5

5th level Rangers get an Extra Attack. Note that if you’re still using the Heavy Crossbow you can only attack once per round, which does mean that you can’t use Dread Ambusher or your second attack with RAW. What I’m saying is even though a Heavy Crossbow makes more sense in-character it would probably be better for the build if you used a Longbow instead.

You also get access to second level Ranger spells at 5th level. Gloom Stalkers know the spell Rope Trick innately so you can climb back into the lantern for safety... I don’t think the lantern is safe. Take Spike Growth for some more misty spikes to slow down your foes.

LEVEL 8 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers get another Favored Enemy and Favored Terrain from Natural Explorer. Again feel free to metagame with your DM and ask them what to pick, or alternatively take the Tireless feature from the Deft Explorer Class Feature Variant so you can keep running even if you’re hit by Exhaust... both the summoner spell and the D&D debuff!

LEVEL 9 - RANGER 7

7th level Gloomstalkers get Iron Mind, giving them proficiency in Wisdom saves... but if you didn’t notice we already have proficiency in Wisdom saves, and since our other two options are either Charisma (which we have) or Intelligence go for proficiency in Intelligence saves instead. Isn’t it great when everything works out?

You can also learn another Ranger spell and Healing Spirit lets you summon a friendly Mistwraith to heal your allies. Whenever a creature moves through the spirit’s space they heal a d6 of health, and you can move the spirit up to 30 feet on your turn as a bonus action.

LEVEL 10 - RANGER 8

8th level Rangers get another Ability Score Improvement: increase your Dexterity again for better accuracy and more damage with your Relic Cannon. You also get Land’s Stride which lets you ignore the plants of the Shadow Isles and gives you advantage to get past magical plants that are trying to stop you.

LEVEL 11 - CLERIC 3

Now that we can fight with the darkness it’s time to fight with the light. 3rd level Clerics get access to second level spells like Blindness/Deafness to hide your allies in the mist... against one enemy. Still useful to get the jump on them.

You also innately know the Gentle Repose spell as well as Ray of Enfeeblement. Keep Lucian away from Thresh by Exhausting him if he comes close!

LEVEL 12 - CLERIC 4

4th level Clerics get another Ability Score Improvement: cap your Dexterity for maximum accuracy and saving throws with your Relic Cannon.

You also get another spell and another cantrip: Word of Radiance lets you shout “DEMACIA!” to force enemies close to you to make a Constitution saving throw or take Radiant damage. Hold Person (once again) lets you send out a Last Embrace to hold your foes down for your allies to take care of them.

(Artwork by Riot Games)

LEVEL 13 - CLERIC 5

5th level Clerics can Destroy Undead with their Turn Undead feature if the undead is of CR 1/2 or lower.

You also get access to 3rd level spells: Bestow Curse lets you bestow the Curse of the Black Mist on an enemy granting a bunch of effects which you can read on the spell list. In addition Grave Clerics always have the Revivify and Vampiric Touch spells prepared, so you can repay your husband for saving you before screeching at those who’d take him from you.

LEVEL 14 - CLERIC 6

6th level Clerics get another use of their Channel Divinity for more undead destruction and more marks for your allies. Additionally Grave Clerics get Sentinel at Death’s Door, allowing them to negate a critical hit on an ally. Fire off Dawning Shadow to shield Lucian. “For the light.” “And all lost in darkness.”

You also get another spell and Mass Healing Word lets you hit a multi-person Piercing Darkness.

LEVEL 15 - CLERIC 7

7th level Grave Clerics get access to 4th level spells. As a Grave Cleric you know the Blight and Death Ward spells innately, letting your enemies wither away in the mist and your allies survive even the toughest blow.

For your spell of choice choose Banishment to send the shadows back from once they came.

LEVEL 16 - CLERIC 8

8th level classes get another Ability Score Improvement: increase your Wisdom to get into the fight faster and improve your spellcasting.

8th level Grave Clerics get Potent Spellcasting but if you haven’t noticed we’re going for a weapon-based build so ask your DM to instead use the Blessed Strikes feature from the Class Feature Variants UA to do an extra d8 of Radiant damage with one of your attacks. The Piercing Darkness is mixed with the light, after all.

You can also prepare another spell and Stone Shape lets you form some relicstone into a massive cannon to fight off the darkness... or to make a passage through a wall. Guardian of Faith will let the light of Demacia protect you from any ghouls trying to grab you.

In addition your Destroy Undead feature now destroys undead of CR 1.

LEVEL 17 - CLERIC 9

9th level Clerics get access to 5th level spells. As a Grave Cleric you always have the Antilife Shell and Raise Dead spells always prepared: don’t worry though this is the good kind of Raise Dead where the person is just alive, not a mindless zombie.

For your spell of choice prepare the light of Dawn to strike down your foes.

LEVEL 18 - CLERIC 10

10th level Clerics get Divine Intervention. You can call the gods of Demacia to help you in a time of need. When you do the DM rolls on a percentile die and if the percentage is equal to or lower than your level (so right now 10, or a 1/10 chance) the gods will hear you and help you. You can only call for help once per long rest and if the gods do help you the feature is put on cool-down for 7 days. Never underestimate the power of a light in the darkness: they have long cool-downs for a reason.

You can also prepare another spell and Holy Weapon lets you channel the light into your Relic Cannon, making your weapon attacks do an extra 2d8 of Radiant Damage, and gives you a radiant burst to blind nearby enemies and do 4d8 damage to them.

You additionally get another cantrip and once again I’m largely stumped on what to take, so grab Toll the Dead so the creatures of the mist know their time is up.

LEVEL 19 - CLERIC 11

11th level Clerics can Destroy Undead of CR 2, and can prepare a 6th level spell like Heal.

LEVEL 20 - CLERIC 12

Our final level is the 12th level of Cleric for another Ability Score Improvement: if you want better spells go for more Wisdom but if you want to shoot your gun better I’d suggest finally taking the Sharpshooter Feat. This will let you ignore half cover and three-quarters cover and also shoot from your maximum range without disadvantage. But most importantly you can take a bit of a harder shot to instead receive +10 to your damage roll! “Handled.”

For your final (two) spells of choice Word of Recall lets you quickly recall to your Nexus along with your friends, and True Seeing will let you see if anything is trying to hide from purification or redemption. But again I need to mention that Clerics are prepared spellcasters, so prepare the spells that are useful in the moment.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Out of the lantern... - You are remarkably resistant with above-average health and proficiency with every type of saving throw except for Strength and Constitution, not to mention all the spells you have to buff yourself and your allies.

Hell came with me - You have immense damage output and utility in a fight. +10 to initiative with 3 attacks on turn 1 plus an extra d8 of damage. You also have a huge array of spells and spell slots going up to 8th level, with spells like Hunter’s Mark, Bestow Curse, and Holy Weapon all buffing your Relic Cannon.

I can handle this gun - You have a good deal of utility to provide to yourself and your party. Again I mention your Cleric spells but you also have a large array of proficiencies to be useful out-of-combat as well.

CONS

If you've got a problem with me, make it two - Like I mentioned in the pros section your two big Achilles' heels are Strength and Constitution saves. The low CON modifier in particular is a big issue since it means that you will be dropping Concentration spells frequently.

It’s the dream that makes us giants - Speaking about concentration: the spell list I recommended has a lot of them. You have an ungodly amount of Concentration spells at first level alone and it only gets crazier at higher levels.

Running with a gun in your hand - Senna operates best at range but unfortunately she has very few options to actually make distance for herself. That problem extends into this build as you rely almost entirely on being in the backline away from any Mist Wraiths that might want you.

But you’ve dealt with those problems all your life and they’re not going to stop you when you’re ready for a reckoning. I’m actually rather impressed with this build as it performs well across all levels of play. Fight along-side your husband as well as your team: heal the party, shoot the baddies, and be the light in the darkness. Just try to avoid being banished into a lantern for 6 years: Lucian needs you as much as you need him. "Lucian has a way of breaking down my walls."

(Artwork by Riot Games)

[retvenkos]

graves

Tuck Everlasting - An Angus and Jesse Tuck Story.

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 21

Summary: “This life isn’t meant for anyone - especially not Winnie.” / Angus nodded slowly, and when he thought about it, he cried.

Winnie Foster Jackson.

Cherished wife, devoted mother, dearest grandmother. Expert fisherman.

Angus looked at those words over and over again, his hands holding tight to the hat he pressed against his chest. He stood motionless, his eyes open, not needed to blink as his mind tried to absorb what he saw in front of him.

Winnie. 

This was all of her that was left.

“Pa... you alright?” Jesse put a hand on his father’s shoulder, and the man remembered to breathe. His lungs filled with air, and when they emptied, there was no ache in his chest to remind him to fill them once more. 

It was the little things that Angus tended to forget. His mind could only fathom so much, so he decided to let the mechanical bits of living fade away so he could remember experiences and people. It was the little things, like not breathing, that made the people around him shudder to think what he was.

He wasn’t human - at least, not anymore.

But Angus still broke like one. Standing over graves never got any easier. Living never ceased to be difficult.

Angus sighed, and there was a gravity to it that dragged down the sun, itself, casting them in long shadows.

“She took my advice.”

Jesse nodded. “She did.” He withdrew his hand and returned them to their rightful place inside of his pockets. “She lived.” There was a happiness in his words.

Silence joined them in their vigil, and it was greeted like the old friend it was. The undergrowth, which was always respectfully still in places like this, was more quiet than ever as it watched the two creatures whom Death could touch contemplate the grave that lay before them.

Angus’ eyes closed, as though in prayer. Could God hear him down below, never to return? If he prayed, would something listen? 

The trees seemed to whisper to each other, and Angus believed that to be a response.

“Did I teach her right?” Angus opened his eyes and looked at his boy, unchanged by sorrow, unmarked by life. “Was this the path she should’ve taken?”

Perhaps it was cruel of him to ask Jesse; Jesse, who had wanted companionship so badly, he would’ve waited until the end of time for her to change her mind and partake in the spring’s water. Jesse, who had offered her the life Angus warned again, and doubted now.

Perhaps it was cruel, but so was his existence.

“Yes.” Jesse didn’t contemplate his words for long before answering, and it made Angus question how many times the same thoughts had gone through Jesse’s mind and arrived at that conclusion. “This life isn’t meant for anyone - especially not Winnie.”

Angus nodded slowly, and when he thought about it, he cried.

“She deserved a happy ending. We wouldn’t be able to give her one.”

Angus looked at his boy, who had tears in his eyes which came from that very human part of him that was still alive, despite the beatings it took. He put a strong hand on Jesse’s shoulder and kissed him on the forehead, letting Jesse’s arms catch him in an embrace. The two stayed like that.

They held each other for a moment, perhaps, or maybe it was an eternity.

Angus kept confusing the two. 

Afterward, Angus stiffened the creases in his hat. Placing it on his head, he bowed a little to Winnie before leaving.

Jesse lingered after his father left, sitting down cross legged in front of Winnie the way he always did. He didn’t say anything for the longest time, and in that silence the undergrowth shook, and a toad hopped out.

Jesse wiped his tears and smiled.

[ofdarkeststone]

Ch. 1 - The Eventide Tower

Theme Song: Etna - Boris, Sunn 0)))

-

“The High Bramble had been much thicker than expected on the east slope of the hill and now broken thorny twigs clung to my clothes like spider’s web. Pushing through the bramble by force had proven less frustrating than clearing it with what modest equipment I had brought. My legs, forearms and face were streaked with my own blood by the time that I reached the ridge.

I set down my pack and rested on one knee. Thankfully, when I turned the pack over in my hands, I found it had not torn; though there were small holes, scrapes, and frayed patches all over. I grabbed my water skin from within and took several swigs before splashing my face to clear the sweat and blood. The web of hairline cuts across my forehead and cheeks all stung anew and I clenched my face tightly to push out the pain. I exhaled, slapped myself a few times, and reopened my eyes.

The exposure of the ridge kept it mostly clear of the tortuous plants below and I made good progress southward from then on. However, with no shade, the late noon sun soon beat upon my back like the horse driver’s whip and I could feel the sting of sweat dripping over the cuts on my neck and legs. On the north slope of the hill and further down towards the ghostly river Reo, there extended a vast forest of Calin Trees. I longed for the shade of their limbs and the cooling drops of late dew held in the Kausim Brush beneath, but I could smell the bitter odour of stagnant Swamp Sod: patches of seemingly solid ground which would give way and bury you alive in thick swamp muck. The cave hermit I'd met the day previous had said a vengeful river spirit had captured these woods from the Dryads and would take any who entered. Only the shallow rock of the ridge could guarantee quick passage and safety.

I hiked for half the day. I stopped occasionally to rest and more than once I had to scramble against spontaneous flows of gravel which threatened to pull me down into the forest like an ocean tide. All the while, the sun travelled with me and sagged in the sky as my exhaustion grew.

After hours of careful walking upon the rough stone and gravel, my feet were thoroughly sore and cramped. The soft soles of my boots had failed me and I was forced to stop. I made a precarious camp on a slightly broader stretch of the ridge and lay facing the river to watch the Sternidae wheel in the sky and dive for the thin fish swimming below.

While chewing dried meat and massaging my feet, I watched as the sky turned pink and the sun fell to the tops of the hills. The tips of the trees glowed with the glancing light and the forest became like a million flickering candles. I remembered the memorials at my father’s chapel and lighting candles for my mother and brothers.

As the birds settled onto the water to sleep, the pink sky turned deep red and an evening mist began rising from the river valley. For a moment, I thought that I saw the faint smoke plume of some distant campfire coming from a large island which split the river, but when I searched for the source it was not obvious. What I perceived as smoke was too uniform in darkness, and when I concentrated, I could tell it was unaffected by the breeze. I lay upon my side on the coarse gravelly ridge and watched the strange patch of dark air until the sun dropped behind the horizon and the sky turned deepest black.

As the sun had fallen, the darkness had swiftly become more opaque. The emergent shape had been strange and the light of the setting sun had seemed to completely ignore it, so that no detail could be seen upon its surface. There had been only a monolithic silhouette against the red sky and a far-reaching shadow from its base. The pure black of this thing had been so palpable, so solid, that I found I could not look away. Its true size and true depth were hidden by its blackness, but I had felt it looming over me even though my camp was a full day’s journey distant – it was a massive tower.

As the sky had dimmed, the black of the void form had merged with the coming night and the candelabra forest was doused. A panoply of stars had filled the heavens and the silver light of the moon had adorned the distant hills. For some time, I had been able to make out the silhouette still, but soon the stars and moonlit horizon had appeared within its gloom. Shortly after, the dark shape had disappeared completely.

I blinked and I became aware of myself, the present, and my surroundings again. The drone of night creatures from the Calin forest below crashed upon me and shattered the apparent silence that I had felt while entranced. I was wet with sweat and I found that my palms were bloody and pocked with gravel from where I had been pressing them firmly into the ground as I watched the dark tower.

I had not made a camp fire, but I was too exhausted to bother. I lay back and fell into a deep sleep while flat upon my back.

I awoke with the strange sensation of having dreamt, but I could only remember darkness. It was early and the sun was reaching over the horizon. I scanned the shadowed landscape to see if the monolithic silhouette might manifest for the morning sun, but it did not. Whatever magic I had witnessed was only awoken by the coming of dusk.

As I had slept, plum-sized Rozmyrn Scarbadae had sequestered themselves into the folds of my cloak and when I rose they tumbled out and rolled down the hillside like sapphire marbles. Their clicking chirps called down a gang of Passerids which swooped along the slope and plucked their breakfast before nesting below in the morning damp Calin.

I stretched my awfully stiff limbs, packed up my gear, and headed off along the ridge once more. Provided I could find safe passage through a short stretch of the forest somewhere up ahead, I thought that I could make it down to the river in a matter of hours. The thought of fresh fish for lunch gave me renewed vigour and thankfully I made good pace. Just as the sun was reaching its zenith and the heat was becoming unbearable, I slid down a low spot in the hill and delved into the forest below.

In the shade of the Calin and the aura of the Kausim, it was actually kind of chilly. Though I had found an area which seemed more dry, my boots still occasionally sunk down into cold muck and my feet soon throbbed from the cold. What had been refreshing at first quickly became worse than the heat. The shear difference in temperature was astonishing. I was not surprised people assigned magic or divine power to this place.

With careful probing of the ground ahead using a long stick, I managed to avoid any sinking sod and I made it to the shore of the Reo with little issue. The cool breeze from the forest and the river combined with the heat of the high sun was magnificent. After catching a couple of fish, I lay down on the gravely beach and napped until the sun was lower in the sky.

I rose with the evening fog and found myself immersed. It had not looked so dense from the ridgeline on the previous night, but now, at the edge of the forest, I could hardly see my own feet. The river ran on quietly nearby within the mist and I could hear the splash of leaping fish.

I startled violently as I noticed a shadowed form lurking only feet away. Rocks slid out from beneath my feet and I fell. Part of the form snapped upright and a broad pair of polished antlers stood clear of the fog ceiling. They flickered brilliantly as the creature bounded back into the forest. I suddenly felt anxious. This place was unfamiliar to me even in the clear light of midday, but only then did I realize how alone I actually was.

I picked myself up and waded across the Reo to the island. If I was going to find my way to the grounds of the eventide tower I’d seen last night, I would need to hurry. The rising fog would soon make navigating the swampy terrain nearly impossible.

The sun seemed to fall terribly quickly then. The shallow rays cut sharp red lines through the fog and yet again the tips of the trees seemed to blaze. The dense fog spread the sunset across the ground and wrapped me in vivid hues of the dying light as though I walked among the clouds. Even amidst the terror of becoming lost or becoming the evening meal for some beast, I stood awestruck more than once.

I was in a fit of panic when I found the tower. I had completely lost any sense of direction and was simply running to find the river. Though my arms probed ahead wildly, the fog obscured the shear wall of black ahead and I ran face first into its cold surface. I felt the bones in my nose crunch together and a warm stream of blood ran down my mouth and onto my collar. The pain sent a jolt through my spine and my head reeled back.

The tower rose from the ground directly in front of me and cut a perfectly rigid swath across the orange sky. Even from up close the surface of the structure was pure black. The effect was as though I looked into it rather than at it and I felt a strong sense of vertigo as my legs became weak. I reached forward and placed a hand on the blackness to steady myself.

Though no detail could be seen, I felt an incredibly complex texture on my skin. As I slid my hand from side to side, my fingers traced series of flowing lines which spun like the ridges of a fingerprint. It felt cold and smooth like metal, but carried no sound when I wrapped my knuckles upon it. My excited breath swirled the fog around my head.

I worked my way slowly around the large perimeter of the tower while allowing my hand to glide along the surface. The air was frigid and I could hear nothing, but my breathing and my own feet squelching in the grassy muck. I guess it was about half-way around the tower when my fingers slid into a small gap which ran vertically from the ground to a point higher than I could reach. I pushed gently at first and then much harder when the surface clicked, but didn’t move. It took considerable effort, but eventually the surface on either side of the gap that I had felt began to swing inwards. Scentless air from within poured outwards and cleared the fog around me. The doors parted slowly to reveal pitch blackness equal to the outside, and yet it somehow felt infinitely darker. This blackness was not solid. If I stepped inside, it could consume me. Yet, that is what I did.

My curiosity outweighed my terror and I stepped forward into that frigid void. My damp and muddy boots slapped and squished against the floor. The sound travelled slowly to my ear and was muffled as though cotton were pressed into my ears. The floor shunned even the dim light from the threshold and my eyes saw nothing in all directions. The colours and sparks you sometimes see when closing your eyes for sleep soon began flaring up to fill the void.

I took a few steps further and felt a sickening feeling building inside me; nausea in my throat and an ache in my head. I could hear my blood pumping in my ears.

I don’t know what I hoped to find by walking into this place. My eyes were useless, and though my curiosity had brought me here, my hands now clung tightly to my side for fear of rubbing against something in the dark which surrounded me. Though it was only a few strides away, when I looked back to the door I felt a shock of terror at how far I’d walked. I quickly turned my gaze back to the void.

I regained my composure and leaned down to touch the floor. It was the only thing I could sense yet in this place and I needed more information. It felt identical to the wall I had touched outside. Again, a complex texture of intermingling ridges flowing in groups and swirling around each other. I allowed myself to focus fully on the sensation of touch as I dragged a finger through one of the ridges. After crawling for several metres I still hadn’t found an end to the ridge and I stood back up.

As I rose, the hood on my cloak fell forward and I felt a small object brush past my head before falling to the ground. A moment later I heard muffled clicking and chirping as a hidden Rozmyrn Scarbadae rolled frantically away from me, likely stuck to the path laid out by one of the countless grooves. Its carapace ground against the floor and sounded like the wooden tankard of a passed-out drunk rolling along the bar top. I followed it with my ear as it got further and further away and slowly it became too muffled to hear. Just when I thought I had lost it, I heard a faint click. This click was followed quickly by another, and another, and another, each in a descending rhythm which soon took the sound out of earshot once more. Somewhere in the darkness was another deeper and darker void where the floor gave way. Somewhere ahead was a stairway which plunged further down into even deeper darkness.

I felt my legs grow weak again as I imagined the potential scale of this space and that I could right now be standing on the edge of a hole which pierced down into eternity. I sat down hard on the ground and the metal pans in my pack rang out moments later.

The clang and clatter was swallowed by the void, but this time something else came forth: a light tapping sound reach me, but it was very hard to tell where it was coming from and how far it might have been. I sat still and listened. It was definitely getting louder, and at first, I thought it might be the chirping Scarbadae slowly working its way back towards the light of the door. However, the tapping grew quickly into more of a slapping noise. It was rapid and familiar, but not exactly rhythmic.

Even before I understood what I heard, I stood up and started backing towards the light. I began to shake with icy terror. My eyes were stretched painfully wide, probing the dark, and the sound of dozens of naked running feet grew ever closer. I turned towards the fading light of the doorway and saw that it was beginning to dim. I have never run harder in my life. For every footstep I heard, I realized the sound was likely several paces behind. I felt as though at any moment the groping hand of some monstrosity unseen should grasp me from the abyss and pull me into blackness perpetual. I heard no shouts or yells, or any evidence of some humanity that should sooth my fear. There was only the frantic run of this nocturnal horde.

I reached the diminishing threshold and turned with great speed to slam shut its darkest doors. I swear to you that I heard perhaps one hundred beasts clamouring towards me as the two doors shut, but only one made it through.

The creature was as pale as the moonlight which now shone through the tower’s fading silhouette. This creature had skin like paper and wore rags of stained clothes which hung loose from its gaunt form. White eyes looked out from a bald and bruised head.

I leapt back and swung my pack in front of me, but the creature froze immediately outside of the door - as though in shock.

As I watched, the creature crumpled in on itself and fell into a limp pile on the ground. It shrieked and squealed as its muscles wasted, blood poured out, and its pale skin turned gray while shrivelling against crumbling bones. Before I could even exhale, it had fallen completely to a pile of bones and dust.

I remember screaming. I don’t remember for how long. When I reached a hand out to steady myself against the tower I found that it had vanished along with any trace of daylight. I sat down in the muck of the swamp and stared into the pile of bones. A human skull sat lop-sided staring back with darkness in its eyes.”  

[nadziejastar]

How Isa Became a Seeker of Darkness

So, I obviously think the idea that Isa willingly became a Seeker of Darkness is ludicrous. Terra became a Seeker of Darkness by having his rage exploited. Riku (Replica) became a Seeker of Darkness by having his jealousy exploited. I thought it would be interesting to speculate more in-depth on what emotional weakness Xehanort exploited to get Isa to fall to darkness.

Secret Ansem Report 2

I have made a grave mistake. My study of the "darkness of the heart" began with a simple psychological test and quickly snowballed. Spurred on by my youngest apprentice, Ienzo, I constructed a massive laboratory in the basement of my castle.

Unbeknownst to me, my six apprentices then began collecting a large number of subjects on which to perform dangerous experiments into the "darkness of the heart." As soon as I found out, I called my apprentices together and ordered them not only to cease their studies, but to destroy the results of their research thus far.

Upon his advice, I decided to review the data obtained at my basement lab. That is when I discovered the "Ansem's Reports." Though they bore my name, the only one I had written was number 0. Apparently he had gone on to pen numbers 1 through 8 himself. Yes — the first subject in my foolish experiments.

Zexion has a weapon called “Taboo Papers” which is part of Wild Gear. This may be a reference to the reports that Ansem the Wise discovered before he realized the dangerous experiments his apprentices were conducting without his knowledge. Saïx’s Wild Gear weapon is called “Crescent” and it is shaped an awful lot like the astrological symbol for Black Moon Lilith. This is the reason why I think both of these weapons are referring to the experiments on darkness.

The Tower: When the Tower card appears in a Tarot reading, expect the unexpected – massive change, upheaval, destruction and chaos. It may be the loss of a loved one or any event that shakes you to your core, affecting you spiritually, mentally and physically. There’s no escaping it.

Wild Gear is “The Tower” in Luxord’s deck, and it is very appropriate for the concept of Black Moon Lilith.

The Two of Pentacles: This suit represents something supportive that is available to you. The figure-eight image is a symbol of immortality and eternity. The card is a sign that you have to believe in yourself even if you aren't feeling confident.

“The Tower” is shaped like the Two of Pentacles.

Axel's weapons have a lot of alchemy symbolism. Saïx is a moon-based character, and his weapons are heavily based on astrology. One weapon is named “Astrologia” and another is named “Horoscope,” and they both incorporate astrological symbols into the design. Both of those weapons hint that Isa is associated with the zodiac sign Cancer (ruled by the Moon). The weapon named “Twilight” hints that he is also associated with the zodiac sign Pisces (ruled by Neptune). These two water zodiac signs are the most emotional ones---the polar opposite of Saïx, who shows almost no human emotion. There’s also a weapon shaped like the symbol for the asteroid Vesta, known as “The Guardian of the Sacred Flame”. Astrologically, Vesta defines how you see your mission and truth in life and the world.

Black Moon Lilith is the geometric point in the sky that marks the furthest point of the Moon’s orbit around the earth, the apogee. It’s the mathematical point that’s exactly in between the Earth and the Moon–essentially, empty space. It is a dark void, which stays approximately nine months in each zodiac sign.

In an astrology chart, Black Moon Lilith represents a person’s primitive impulses and behavior in their rawest form. Psychologically, it is a point that represents how we react to emptiness and isolation. It brings up deep and primal issues like repressed feelings of rejection, rage, and the refusal to give in. 

One of KH3's most important themes is "facing your fears". Knowing where Black Moon Lilith is located in a birth chart can reveal information related to the shadow self. It reveals our deepest fears and how we project those fears onto others.

Black Moon Lilith in Cancer

The Black Moon Lilith in Cancer reflects a deep fear of abandonment. Cancers are the nurturers in society, but are prone to feelings of loneliness and lack of support. Lilith in Cancer brings up issues around dependency and co-dependency and detests people that come across as needy or clingy; this is a part of themselves that they dislike and therefore project these issues onto others.

In Cancer, the shadow is caused by the fear of abandonment and it manifests as intense separation anxiety. I think the writers were inspired by this idea with the plot for Abrabah in 358/2 Days. Aladdin was reluctant to rely on his best friend Genie even though he really needed help, and the novel hinted that there was a parallel to Axel's past with his best friend.

Aladdin: See, Genie and Carpet took off to see the world. It's what Genie always wanted, so I wished him the best and all, but...

Goofy: You miss him.

Sora: Man, things must be REALLY quiet with Genie gone.

This theme was continued in KH2, where Aladdin really missed Genie, who had gone away. He felt lonely. Saïx appears to be very ashamed of this aspect of his human self and projects this “weakness” onto others, like Roxas. He also has mixed feelings towards Axel due to this issue.

“Bet you don’t know why the sun sets red. You see, light is made up of lots of colors. And out of all those colors, red is the one that travels the farthest.”

Something interesting is that the Cancer zodiac sign (ruled by the Moon) begins on the day of the summer solstice, which is the longest day of the year. Day 255 is called "The Longest Day" and it's when Axel tells Roxas about the red sunset. Black Moon Lilith is the furthest point of the Moon’s orbit from the Earth. It represents total darkness---an empty void. I think it's cool how the Kingdom Hearts writers incorporated astrological concepts into the story like this. But how does all of this relate to the plot?

Secret Report 4: Experiments of the Heart – Notes on Subject X, Excerpt 2

Secret Report 4 is obtained after clearing Battlegate 4 at Toy Box: Galaxy Toys / Kid Corral.

My pilot studies used a handful of subjects, but none possessed the fortitude to endure them. Ultimately, all suffered mental collapse. I knew it would be a heavy blow to lose a subject as unique as she. Upon discovering the tests I've been conducting, my master demanded that I cease my work immediately and destroy what research I have compiled. Worse still, he ordered the release of my remaining subjects. She is gone. Where is Subject X now? Has "wise" Master Ansem hidden her away? —Xehanort 

In KH3, one of the reports on Subject X was found in the Kid Corral. This is also the world where Young Xehanort learned that he can create vessels by putting a heart into an empty puppet. Young Xehanort split the world in two, and separated Andy’s Toys, in order to test the strength of their bond. 

Young Xehanort: In this world toys have hearts. And those hearts come from a powerful bond. So what happens when those bonds are stretched to their limit? When they are worlds apart, can cloth and plastic hold on to their hearts? All I needed was a wedge to widen the divide---someone like you to fill them with distrust and doubt. And that chasm you created can be filled with a vast darkness.

Young Xehanort took Buzz through a portal in the Kid Korral, then revealed that the darkness in him was born when he was separated from Andy. This loneliness created a chasm that Xehanort was able to fill with darkness. Sora and Woody dispelled the darkness of his isolation by surrounding him with the light of their friendship. 

“Well, I think you can be inseparable, even if you’re apart. It’s like, if you feel really close to each other. Like best friends.”

I wonder if Young Xehanort did something similar with Lea and Isa using the Datascape, which is itself another world. And since Lea and Isa’s connection was so strong, Isa’s heart didn’t collapse and he became the unique Subject X, the most prospective candidate for becoming a vessel for the X-Blade. Saïx seems to have huge issues with being alone. He said there was no meaning in fighting alone and got really upset when Sora said that he wasn’t alone. Lea and Isa lost their hearts right outside of the Datascape. It looked kinda similar to when Axel brought Xion back and collapsed afterwards. That was the last time he saw her. Maybe Lea went inside the Datascape to retrieve Isa, who was put in there as part of the experiment. 

“You’re letting yourself get too attached to them.”

“Right, sir, of course, sir.” Saïx spun on his heels.

That was all he wanted to say to me?

But just as Saïx started walking away, he caught a barely audible murmur—

“You’ve changed.”

He listened to Saïx’s receding footsteps, and his gaze dropped to his own feet.

“You sure I’m the one who changed?” he said under his breath.

There's also various hints in the story that Isa was very clingy towards Lea. Since he was described as a quiet boy who only came out of his shell for Lea, this is a very believable personality trait. It seemed like this was supposed to be an important aspect of Isa’s character and would explain some of Saïx's warped personality traits. I also like that we can fight Anti-Saïx during the fight where Roxas is trying to leave the organization. Isa's fear of abandonment was probably the weakness that was exploited by the apprentices. Axel remarks that Saïx has changed several times in 358/2 Days. And a few of those times, it seemed related to the clingy and needy aspect of his personality. One instance is when he said Axel was getting too attached to Roxas and Xion. And in the manga, they reinforced this idea by hinting that Isa became easily attached, like he did with Pluto. 

“I thought I told you not to get too involved.” Saïx swung his chair, turning his back on Axel. Axel could feel nothing but a will of rejection from that back.

“Just look at it. I won’t say any more than that.”

For Saïx to say that, he probably doesn’t intend to tell me any more. 

Axel stared at Saïx’s back. 

The two of us have definitely changed since those times.

“…I wonder which of us it was that changed,” muttered Axel, and Saïx’s shoulders trembled for just a second. Without waiting for an answer, Axel left the room.

Another instance is when Axel was trying to get Saïx to open up to him by putting his hand on his shoulder. Then Saïx coldly brushed his hand off and refused to tell him anything. This cold rejection made him think how much things had changed between them.

Within one of them, Terra, I sensed something. The boy, though well-intentioned, seeks power single-mindedly. And that kind of hunger is a seedbed for darkness. I had found my vessel.

Black Moon Lilith is all about emptiness, incompleteness, being estranged, and feeling like you are lacking something or someone important.

“If your best friend goes away, you’re sad, and if you get to be with them, you’re happy,” Naminé added. “Isn’t that how it is, Axel?”

“…That’s about the size of it.” Axel nodded and sat down on the remaining empty sofa, staring at the sea-salt ice cream he held.

Maybe this is why Isa was viewed as a better candidate for a vessel than Lea. Xehanort may have found him a better seedbed for darkness due to his emotional dependence on Lea and his vulnerability. Master Xehanort turned Terra into a Seeker of Darkness by exploiting his desire for power. I think Isa's darkness was fueled by loneliness. The same feeling Axel suffered from for the entire story, causing him to chase after Roxas like a lost puppy. 

Sora: Your “loneliness” only made Buzz and Woody’s connection stronger.

Since they both shared the same pain, I think it would have made their connection stronger in the end.