#the grim hunter ; vladimir.

[cherry-pop-elf]

TO THE KRAVEN SIMPS EXCITED FOR HIS MOVIE!

And people who just need a Kraven The Hunter run down/Information lore

As a certified Kraven know it all from his comics I am here to help give yall some advice/run down/and how to start your journey into his comics and lore! Well, at least the MAIN Kraven. Damn those comics and their multiverse!

Don’t be shy in asking me questions either, of course until DEC: 13th check my #Belladonna Rambles or #Life Update to see what I mean

Alright let’s start now!

Kravens Last Hunt

YOU MUST READ THIS BOOK

This shit here? PEAK! It as PEAK AS PEAK GETS! You really get to study and analyze what makes Kraven tick, how his family impacted him, and just the over all headspace the master hunter is. Treat this as much of an origin story as anything else. Warning though it gets dark and ENDS Dark. It is BEYOND important you read this. You HAVE to read this. It’s a defining comic story that causes a chain reaction for everything after. If you only read one comic book ever? MAKE IT THIS! If you only read one Kraven comic MAKE IT THIS! I can say how important this comic is. YOU NEED TO READ THIS COMIC

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl

A great comic series in general, but here we get to also see a story line of Kraven following into a Vigilante hood instead of staying a Villian. There’s a court arce and everything. It’s a far more light hearted story line, with amazing fun that is really enjoyable. It’s also SUPER GOOD for people NEW to comics as a whole! Very light hearted, silly, and impactful. It’ll also help get you familiar with a lot of marvel characters without it being suffocating! You also get some good insight on Kraven from a far more modern and gentler angle. Squirrel Girl is PEAK. You’ll love this I promise

The Amazing Spider-Man # 15

This is his debute, so obviously gotta read that. It surprisingly shows how there’s alot of details that haven’t changed. Such as he still has his half brother. It’s always so cool to see where they started and how they developed now

GET KRAVEN

This is actually a story about one of his KIDS. Alyosha! It’s a really interesting comic as it’s about one of his sons, and said son is a movie producer no less. It’s quite the adventure. It also leads to a good transition to the next topic-!

The Family

Ight so, given how comics are time lines can get messy. Like “Oh this Kraven is THIS kid actually and that Kraven is another time line so-“ Since Kraven is a TITLE more so then a NAME. So lots of stories about ‘Kraven’ are sometimes about his kids in general. Comics can be confusing I know, so imma help you guys with knowing bullet point facts to help keep you grounded. I got you

Sasha

The wife of Kraven. Mother to their (four MAIN) children. Aleksandra She doesn’t really become prevalent until after The Last Hunt. Can’t spoil it but she kinda goes bat shit insane and became a horror beyond measures after the incident. Oh she can be a roller coaster.

Grim

Vladimir is the eldest, and followed his father’s foot steps the closes. Even had a run in with Spider man. Unfortunately he became a victim of his mother’s insanity, and was mercy killed by his father. His father knew this was worse than hell, and wanted to do what an every good father does. Take care of his baby

Alyosha

Second son, and honestly the most wasted. His arc as a Hollywood star is super short and soon he’s just “another Kraven” which is lame. Him being a successful movie producer/actor what have you is honestly rather important, given his uncle is a failed actor. Lots of wasted potential, so I’m shining light on him. He deserves it

Nedrocci

Another victim of “another Kraven” and his role is so small that there isn’t even much detail to begin with. Hence the lack of image. His only real arc is trying to kill his older brother Alyosha and failing. Then his uncle, the chameleon, ended up killing him. Shame. Just another Kraven and meat to grind

Ana

Anastasia, named after his mother, is the baby and daddy’s girl. Also she seems to be the only person writers remember whenever doing some kind of family story for the Kravinoff’s. Writers forget her siblings and keep making throw away characters to be her brothers. Anyway! Like her siblings her major story line doesn’t really started after The Last Hunt. Like I said, that book is KEY to Kraven. She’s very capable and independent and followed her fathers foot steps all the same

Dimitri

Dimitri Smerdyakov is Sergei’s half brother. Like many villains the origin story often gets changed for the time lines but over all his important arc is he’s always trying to impress Sergei. To prove his worth to the Kravinoff name. Even had a moment where he nearly killed iron man, to show he’s the deadlier brother. As you can tell the family is very messy

Calypso

Yeah she’s your stereotypical Voodoo Priestess. Even sacrificed her younger sister for more power. Yeah this didn’t quite age well. She is rather important because she is a love interest or his, but was extremely toxic and abusive. Men can be abused to. She is also someone who was a major factor in the climax of The Last Hunt. She took joy in what happened even. Yeah she’s…..She is an abusive woman that really damaged Kraven. A important note that men can be abused to, and that despite being so big and strong he can very well be a victim to.

Key Facts/Points

His super human abilities come from potions he’s made from herbs. So yall complaining about how he got his super powers in the movie gotta remember comics didn’t have much flavor either. Literally magic potions and voodoo magic. Like come on

His mother died due to mental illness. Aka Took Her Own Life. It’s always kept vague, but it’s made more clear what it was through The Last Hunt and what happened to Kraven

He becomes an Anti-Hero/Vigilante through Squirrel Girl. He goes by the name “Kraven The Hunter of Hunters” like that shit goes hard don’t lie

He’s a Russian immigrant that escaped Russia around the February Revolution. (It varies often but it’s always escaping Russia in a downfall) Aka before the fall of Russia into communism. So he’s OLD old, and has quite the love hate for his roots

He has mental illnesses. Not like just in general. Like it’s not stated but it’s very much implied he’s suffering from extreme depression that lead to suicidal ideations

He is a big game hunter and is highly respectful of nature and its order. He respects nature and it respects him. He believes in a proper fight with animals, and understands they’re important. By proxy that def means he believes in trans rights and LGBTQ+ concepts so slay Ally! Stay mad dude bros ((fun fact. Lionesses have been shown to grow their own manes and take leadership of prides. Lions can literally say “I’m trans now” and do it. So go my children. Give us trans Kraven headcanons!))

He’s one of Spider-Man’s main villains. He’s been in nearly every cartoon there has been, and was a founding member of The Sinister Six. Safe to assume Chameleon replaced him when he took his anti-hero arc

Yes. It was stated he was based on “The Most Dangerous Game” Hence the Russian and x y z. You aren’t crazy for seeing those connections

The Kravinoff name is from a Noble class blood line. Very rich, aristocrats, rich people life. Until Russia’s downfall arc, so Kraven has money. Depending on the plot device of course

He has arachnophobia, which leads to another motivation to kill spider man. Not only is he the ultimate prey, but it’ll also be him concurring his fears

I hope this all helps. Remember, this is just a base line. There are so many versions of him. His videogame counterpart part, Spider Man 2, is very different and has his own arc and story line. Much like how so many comics have different time lines and universes.

But that’s what makes it beautiful and fun. It’s endless frankly Kraven can be whatever YOU want, because in a way it is canon. It’s just simply not spoken, but still true

If you have any questions for like specific Kravens or just advice on how Kraven would act or such don’t be shy and ask. I plan to do a headcanon list soon and get more information out there to help people new to him understand him

Hope this helps! Thank you for reading! Means a-lot you took the time to! Thank you, and have a happy comic book reading!

[that90ssmshow]

for real tho

[frogoat]

A blog about comic books and geek culture in general and Spider-Girl and the MC2 universe in particular.

[kravinova]

the kravinov children, eldest to youngest.

[blingblong55]

The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations: 

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

---------------------- 

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. 

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw. 

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms. 

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death. 

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart. 

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future. 

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours. 

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told. 

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left. 

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force. 

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war. 

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs. 

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware. 

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him. 

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem. 

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it. 

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband. 

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear. 

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you. 

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ] 

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun. 

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover. 

--

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break. 

--

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them. 

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband. 

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence. 

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy. 

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states. 

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased. 

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

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[gsuschr1st]

THE FOLLOWING IS A NON-PROFIT FAN-BASED AU FANFICTION

DANNY PHANTOM IS OWNED BY NICKELODEON, PARAMOUNT STUDIOS, BUTCH HARTMAN, AND VIACOM INTERNATIONAL

PLEASE ENJOY THE FOLLOWING PHANTOM! JAZZ AU, ONE SHOT, I THOUGHT OF.

Jazz Victoria Fenton is a fresh college student and Amity Park's resident ghost superhero protector named: "The Phantom." The inhabitants of her hometown were now facing a new monster hunter developed by the guys in white dubbed "The Spector Slayer." On a roof of an unnamed building Jazz now gets into a defense karate stance and inspects the Slayer.

As Jazz inspected the Slayer, noticing he wore a suit designed to fit the style of a ninja-styled grim reaper, the suit looked reasonably similar to her parent's prototype super suits. Still, it had some specific variations to it.

For example, the armor looked futuristic, probably built with nanotech machines. The armor shade was dark blue, with bright white complementing the blue.

It looked like it would fit a person with a light heavyweight 6ft body stature, not overly muscular, but could fit someone with a decent, slim muscle build. The hood of the suit looked almost like a reapers hood, with it being colored jet black along with the cape attached to it. The material on the cape was probably a leather-styled material built for glider-based mobility.

The mask the Slayer wore only covered his ears, nose, and entire chin, only leaving his eyes visible. The mask reminded Jazz of the game Mortal Kombat the one her brother played a lot with Tucker, where this one character Noob had a face mask that looked very similar to the one the Slayer wore.

But what had caught Jazz's attention the most was the Slayer's eyes. They had the same navy blue color that reminded her of her missing younger brother Daniel "Danny" Vladimir Fenton.

"Danny?"

Jazz asked, shocked at the idea that this menacing figure could be her little brother.

The Slayer didn't say anything, only tilting his head in confusion, but he then readjusted himself in an aggressive attack stance, looking like a mixture between judo and jeet kun do. The Slayer's eyes harden into an intense murderous glare, making Jazz's skin crawl.

The Slayer hears a voice through his mask that is Agent O from the Guys In White. It sounds full of determined pride and disgust, erupting to reach The Slayer's ears, but only one command is uttered.

"Slayer combat protocol 432004 has been initiated. Eliminate the ghost girl."

After those words had been spoken to the Slayer, his eyes had started to dilate rather quickly, and then they were colored purely engulfed by a dark blue. The pigment shined and glowed like a new diamond.

In a flash, The Slayer moved so quickly from Jazz's perspective that it seemed like he teleported. This movement surprised her enormously as Jazz was just registering that her maybe brother turned super soldier monster slayer had. Just. Teleported. In front of her very eyes, a swift punch connects to her face hitting with a harsh Pow as the Slayer's fist lands on Jazz's face, sending her a few feet away and making her back hit a railing on the roof of this unnamed building.

"Ok… That was super painful."

Jazz says she regains her balance enters a defensive karate stance, and dashes to attack the Slayer. Each blow she tries to use is either blocked or strategically countered with a more vigorous blow from different martial arts such as; wing chun, jeet kune do, and boxing.

Each hit felt light baseballs being thrown at her at 15 miles per hour. The pressure of the punches had begun to put Jazz in a dazed state, but she needed to find a way to outmaneuver this opponent.

The Slayer dashes to connect an acrobatic jump kick; however, Jazz quickly turns intangible, making him phase through her completely. He lands in a kneeling position. The Slayer turns to face Jazz, only to see that there were now ten of her surrounding him.

"Danny, please, I don't want to fight you; it's me, Jazz remember? Your big sister?"

One clone of Jazz tells The Slayer he now just stares at each clone curiously. He had wondered why his target called him that and why she looked so familiar. Sadly, before any semblance of his target's memory could return, Agent O Yelled into Slayer's ear.

"SLAYER. DO. NOT. BE DISWAYED BY THIS THING! DESTROY HER NOW!"

After that, a sharp shock hits The Slayer. It felt as if a Taser was scratching at his mind. He grabs his head with both hands relatively in a violent tight fashion; after that, memories return. Flashes of a home, his parents, friends, and then…

"KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL HER KILL…"

The Slayer's body goes deadly stiff and limp for a few seconds. One of the Jazz clones walks up to him touching his shoulder. After she does so, The Slayer, in a blindingly quick fashion, grabs the hand, pulling the clone closer then a fast slash is heard.

Then the clone evaporates, revealing a singular scythe powered by ectoplasm.

[Authors note: Like death from Darksiders.]

Ectoplasm blasts are shot at The Slayer. Even a few clones dog pile on him, trying to pin him down to not only slow down The Slayer but also give the original Jazz a chance to think of a plan to knock out The Slayer.

Then rather aggressively, the clones that the dog piled on him are pushed off of him, sending each one far back, and then another ectoplasm-powered scythe.

Meanwhile, the original Jazz is now trying to stay invisible to find an opening to overshadow and incapacitate her possible missing brother, the clones are a decent enough distraction, but most of them are being quickly outmatched by the speed, as well as strength of The Slayer and being sliced apart by the Slayer's duel welding scythes.

Though every single clone is being dispatched, Jazz notices an opportunity. After the last clone disappears with a devasting set of slashes to aid in that predicament, Jazz from behind tries to overshadow the Slayer and try out her new special attack. Which is a strong psychokinesis attack intended to keep him knocked out for 6 hours. This attack surprisingly works.

After a few minutes, Jazz sees The Slayer's mind seeing all of his memories, which confirms her suspicions that The Slayer is her brother, and she sees why Danny went missing.

All Jazz feels now is anger. The guys in white are going to pay.

[ravenloftian]

Gretel's Grim Tale

In the warmth of the Torgov taproom, with the fire crackling and the adventurers gathered around, Greta leans in with a glint in her eye. “You want to hear about Gregor Zolnik, do you?” she begins, her voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “He wasn’t always the tyrant you know. No, in his youth, Gregor was a different man.”

She shifts in her chair, eyes reflecting the flickering flames. “Gregor was the strongest, most skilled hunter in all of Vorostokov. Proud, brave, and feared for his ability to track and kill. But there was one winter, long ago, that changed him forever. It came early—snowfall heavier than anyone had ever seen. The crops were ruined, buried beneath drifts so high that even the sleds couldn’t move through it. It didn’t stop. Day after day, the snow kept falling, and soon, Vorostokov was in danger of starving.”

Her voice drops, drawing the adventurers closer. “The hunters went out every day, but found nothing. The forest was barren. The only sign of life? Wolves. Hunters would scavenge the leftovers of wolf kills, but it wasn’t enough to feed the village. Gregor—he wouldn’t accept that. One day, near midwinter, he was out tracking, and it was so cold, so dark… even the sun refused to rise. He was returning home empty-handed, and that’s when he found it—a great black wolf, wounded after a fight with a bull elk. Or so they say..."

Greta pauses for effect, her voice growing hushed. “He watched the wolf dying and thought about its strength, its cunning. ‘If I had your stamina,’ he muttered to the beast, ‘I wouldn’t be starving. I’d feed my family and more.’ The wolf stared at him with those eyes… you know the kind. Cold, intelligent. And in that moment, Gregor remembered an old story his grandfather had told him—a legend about how the fiercest hunters could take the strength of the beasts they conquered.”

She straightens up, gesturing with her hands. “Gregor decided that he wouldn’t return home empty-handed. He killed the wolf, butchered the elk right there in the snow, and dragged the carcass back to Vorostokov. By the time he reached his mother’s house, he was near collapse, but he had done it—he had saved his family.”

A brief smile plays across her lips before she continues. “But that’s not the end of it. When Gregor awoke the next evening, he found that his mother had shared the meat with the whole village. At first, he was furious—he’d wanted it for his family. But then he realized… he could do it again. Night after night, Gregor hunted. While others starved, he brought food to the people of Vorostokov. He never told anyone how he managed it, but he kept the village fed for the rest of that terrible winter.”

Greta leans closer, her voice softening as the fire crackles. “Come spring, the duke himself—Andrei Vladimir—came to meet the man who had kept Vorostokov alive. Many other villages in the region hadn’t survived the winter as well as ours. That’s when Gregor met the duke’s daughter, Ireena. They say the two fell in love at first sight, and soon after, they were married. Gregor went to live at the duke’s castle, leaving the village behind.”

She gives a knowing look to the adventurers. “But it wasn’t a happy ending, no. Even in the warmth of the duke’s halls, Gregor couldn’t shake the call of the wild. He’d find reasons to leave the castle—‘visiting his mother,’ he’d say. But in truth, he was returning to the forest, back to the hunt. And Ireena… well, she began to suspect something. She thought Gregor was sneaking off to see another woman, and in her grief and anger, she took a lover of her own.”

Greta shakes her head, her voice tinged with sorrow. “That betrayal—it broke something in Gregor. When he found out, he flew into a rage. He killed the lover first, but it didn’t stop there. He went to Ireena’s chambers that night… and she didn’t live to see another dawn.”

The room falls silent as Greta’s tale comes to an end. “After that, Gregor changed. The man who had once saved Vorostokov became a tyrant, a cold-hearted ruler who cared only for his own power. Some say it was grief, others say it was the wolf in him. But whatever it was, the hero of Vorostokov was gone, replaced by the monster we know today.”

She leans back in her chair, letting the firelight dance across her face as the adventurers absorb her words. “But, like all stories, who’s to say how much is true?” Greta adds with a shrug. “Folk around here love their tales. Still, something changed that winter, and Gregor hasn’t been the same since.”

As the fire flickers in the dim taproom of Torgov, the adventurers lean in closer to hear Greta spin the darker part of Gregor’s tale, her voice hushed as if sharing forbidden knowledge.

"You see, it wasn’t just Ireena and her lover. The night Gregor found out about her betrayal, he didn’t stop with them. The tale goes that Ireena’s screams woke one of the maidservants. Poor thing went to see what had happened… and Gregor, already lost to madness, killed her, too. But that wasn’t the worst of it."

Greta’s eyes dart around, making sure no other villagers are too close to hear. “They say something took over Gregor that night, something more than grief or rage. The scent of blood, it drove him mad. He stalked through the corridors of the duke’s castle, killing any who crossed his path—servants, retainers, even the duke himself, still asleep in his bed.”

She pauses, the fire crackling as if echoing the bloodshed she describes. "By morning, the castle was a tomb, and Gregor awoke… not in the duke’s halls, but back in Vorostokov. The following winter was colder and darker than before, and the village was starving once more. Gregor tried to hunt, but the forests had turned against him. No elk, no caribou—nothing lived in those woods anymore."

Greta lets the silence hang for a moment, letting the weight of her words settle. “The only thing left to hunt… was people. Oh, yes. Gregor turned his attention to the villages. His people. At first, they praised him as their provider, the man who brought them meat when all else failed. But over time, the villagers noticed the game he brought back was… strange. The meat, they whispered, wasn’t from elk or caribou. It came from something else.”

Greta lowers her voice further, leaning in. "You see, the black wolf of the forest was no longer a hero. He became a terror. Villagers started to disappear—hunters, woodsmen—any who dared to enter the forest alone. Gregor wouldn’t allow it. He hunted the hunters. One by one, they vanished, and only Gregor returned, his hands stained red, always with food to offer… but never saying where it came from."

She lets out a breath, casting a glance toward the door as if expecting someone—or something—to walk through it. "The people feared him, but what could they do? They were starving. Desperate. And Gregor, well… in his twisted mind, he still thought of himself as the hero of Vorostokov. A provider. But the truth was, the man who once saved the village had become its worst nightmare."

Greta takes a sip of her cider, pausing before continuing. "There were rumors, though—whispers that not everyone would stand for it. A young man named Yuri rallied the bravest of the villagers, a small band of loyal men who demanded to know where Gregor went each night and what he truly hunted. Gregor, they say, nearly killed them all for their insolence. He wanted to. But his mother, Antonina, she stepped in. She called him out, saying he had betrayed his people and the memory of his father. Some say it was the only thing that stayed his hand."

She leans back, her eyes flicking over the adventurers with an almost somber look. "That’s when it really began, you know. Gregor couldn’t have his power challenged. So, they say, he created his boyarsky, men loyal only to him—enforcers, really. He recruited them from those still desperate enough to follow him, men who feared starvation more than they feared the truth. And from then on, no one questioned Gregor Zolnik. Those who did… well, they never returned from the forest.”

“Then there is… the story of my sister, Sasha—Mikhail and Alexei’s mother. Sasha was the most beautiful woman in Torgov. Gregor met her while traveling through the villages, back when he was still building his power as Boyar. When he saw her, he decided she would be his wife, no matter her fear of him. He had strength, yes, but his temper… it was vile. Still, Sasha, in her innocence, agreed. She left Torgov and went with him to Vorostokov.”

Greta pauses for a moment, her voice softening. “My sister was kind, gentle, and pure-hearted. Gregor, for all his savagery, doted on her. His temper would soften in her presence. But even though he loved her, every night he would leave her side to roam the forests, disappearing into the cold darkness. He forbade Sasha to speak of his absences, but she grew uneasy, wondering where he went. As time passed, she gave birth to their first son, Alexei. Gregor adored his son, but the rest of his family—Antonina, his mother, and his sisters—were jealous beyond reason.”

She shakes her head, her voice tinged with sadness. “When Mikhail was born, Sasha hoped it would bring peace to their lives, but it only deepened the divide. Mikhail was different—gentle like his mother, quiet and reserved. Nothing like Gregor or Alexei. It was Alexei who Gregor favored, and when Alexei turned eighteen, Gregor decided to initiate him into his inner circle, the boyarsky.”

Greta’s voice drops even lower, her face hardening as she speaks. “That night, Mikhail was visiting us here in Torgov, staying with me. The rumor goes that Gregor took Alexei deep into the woods, preparing to bring him into his dark world and Sasha and Antonina followed him. Together, they spied on Gregor and Alexei in the forest. And what they saw… it changed everything. That night, my sister must have learned the truth; the horror she had married into.” Greta's voice falters for a moment as she stares into the fire, her eyes distant, lost in memory. “A week later I learned that Sasha was dead. Gregor said she had fallen to her death…but I do not believe him. Whatever horrors Gregor and Alexei were involved in—must have shaken her to the core."

Greta takes a sip. "Now, I can’t say for sure how much of this is true,” she says with a slight shrug, “but folk around here, they still whisper about the black wolf of the forest. About Gregor. Whether he’s still the man who once saved Vorostokov, or something far darker. You saw for yourself.”

With that, she leans back into the shadows of the taproom, her tale lingering in the adventurers’ minds like a chill creeping in from the cold outside.

[marvelheroperil]

Anya Corazon, Julia Carpenter and Madame Web are held captive by the Kravinoffs. Anya is terrorized by Grim Hunter (who looks like an anthro lion) but she spits at his face defiantly. As Madame Web tries to tell more cryptic words, Sasha Kravinoff interrupts them and slashes Madame Web’s throat.  Just before she could order Grim Hunter to take care of the others, the power goes out, as Webb says, that they have made 'The Spider' very angry. 

- Amazing Spider-Man v1 #637, 2010

[pretty-face-breaker]

Thought We Understood Each Other

c.w. creepy whumper, electrocuting someone unconscious, whumpee going behind whumper’s back and paying the price, possessive physical touch/indirect threat of violence  

Following up Santiago’s escape. 

——

It took him six hours to get home but for Hayko, the time passed as if he was wading through it, never stopping to take a breath. He drove with a grip on the steering wheel that left his hands so cold despite the buildup of sweat against the rubber. The air was murky and the roads were murky and though he was there, there seemed to be a thick fog severing his mind and eyes. 

That didn’t stop him from thinking about Santiago. 

It only kept him adrift. 

Once Hayko turned that final corner that led up to Nick’s condo, he wondered how he even managed to get home in one piece. Had he even… waited at the red lights? But as soon as the realization of being not fully present had kicked in, he was adrift again. Each step up the stairs-

-and he did take the stairs. All seven floors worth, far from recognition. 

Each step knocked his heart down further and further into his stomach because for once, unimaginably, he was actually guilty. Hayko was guilty of what before would have seemed like suicide but now had happened—Santiago was gone that fast. He had shut out any voices that whispered the potential that he hadn’t made it across the border since he started driving home.

Step. Step. Step. Soft little clacks in evenly spaced intervals. Hayko’s movements were mechanical, breaths shallow, lips immobile but he could register at one point that he was praying in Armenian. It was for a lot of things from Santiago’s safety, to Vladimir’s own, to the possibility that maybe, by the grace of some god he couldn’t believe in anymore, all of them would be alright. 

As the next request left him in a breath, his leg buzzed once and he jumped in nervous surprise. In a stairwell, close to the seventh floor holding that one door, his phone was ringing. Hayko didn’t look at the name as he slid to accept the call and pulled it to his ear. “Hello?...” he asked tentatively. 

“Running late?” came the reply and he suppressed a shiver. 

“Yeah, I’m almost up, just a few more minutes,” Hayko spoke, pooling the remainder of his energy into keeping his voice as steady as Santiago would have wanted. “Sorry, thought it would’ve taken less—” His breathing stuttered as Nick cut him off. 

“I don’t expect you to start talking until you’re up here.” 

There had rarely been times when Hayko hadn’t been terrified of his voice, the jarring candidness of it shaking him to his core but especially now, where the only way was up, as the stairs below him seemed to be falling away one by one as his heels left them, no terror had ever come close to this one. He wondered whether to shoot Vladimir a concise Get out right fucking now text but knew that was out of the question. 

Hayko knew he would never leave without finding him first. 

“Still there?” Nick asked over the line, snapping Hayko out of his trance and he quickly croaked out a grim yes moments before it clicked off, Nick’s way of hurrying him. He absently stared up the final flight and was mildly horrified as he felt his regret devolving to stupid courage to take another step, and another.

Decisions had been a liberty for him, at least for the past year.

It’s just that this one had consequences that may not just sit skin deep. 

Finally, Hayko pushed open the door to the hallway and watched the number of the one further away get closer by the second—he could never remember the three digit marking on the wood, only the shape of it. 

That and what lay behind it. 

It was such a lousy barrier, this door. And he couldn’t bring himself to open it without first fumbling for his phone. 

He realized his hands were shaking when he scrolled for Vladimir’s contact and typed out “If you don’t hear from me for a bit, don’t worry. He’s out.” 

And then the door opened. 

Hayko’s eyes snapped up as he stuffed the phone away in his jeans and he started to form a greeting but by the way Nick was looking at him, he probably didn’t want to hear it as much as he wanted him inside where he could have him completely. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. 

He waited diligently for Nick’s arm to slide off the frame as his invitation inside. Every muscle in his body contracted as the door slid shut and locked—though, there was a delay. It took every fibre of his being to stay calm, for his own sake. 

At this point, Hayko knew Nick wouldn’t pity him for his fear as he had mastered how to mute it just so he wouldn’t have to. He hated it when Nick pitied him, would rather he just got it over with instead. He pulled off his jacket and went for the wooden rack, expecting to be stopped but Nick only watched him hang it up and then slip off his shoes. 

Hayko stammered at last, “It took longer than I-I thought it would.” Cursed himself for not holding up any longer. “There was… some traffic here and there and—... I made a few stops for tea and…” He glanced up and gulped at the wolfish smile Nick was now wearing. 

“You know,” Nick started, a hint of laughter in his voice, “you lie better in court than you do out of it.” He stalked over and Hayko braced himself for whatever was next. Nick took his palm and pressed it to Hayko’s chest, not so much as shoving as it was pushing him back right until his head hit the wall. 

Hayko didn’t respond, hoping staring up at him with lost, pleading eyes was enough. He shuddered at the tickle of knuckles tracing down his cheek and the next snort made him want to curl in on himself. Please, just do something already and let my fucking nerves calm down.

“You can lie to me, you do it all the time,” Nick continued. “Not like there’s a point though. You’re a pretty shit liar.”  

God, please. Please please please

Hayko swallowed thickly but his breathing really hitched when he heard the faint buzz of the phone in his jacket. He looked to Nick rapidly to see whether he heard as well but the taller man was still eyeing him, trying to pull it out of him, trying to wring him like a cloth, but Hayko had prepared for any interrogation. Had his lines and excuses chronological and ready.

“Why do you think I’m lying?” he asked. Feeling how close Nick’s breath was fanning on his face, he tipped his head back further. Don’t do this, don’t do this now 

Nick watched him thoughtfully. “You look afraid.”  

“Always,” he corrected. “I always look-... like that.” Please, please, please

A clever smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and Nick inched off the wall, muttered “Good point” and Hayko was left to catch his breath quietly, fingers tapping away at the wall behind him to dispense of the grueling anxiety and near-euphoric relief. At the same time, he was skeptical under the surface but that surface was thick with exhaustion and tension and fear enough for where the hell his friend had gone and whether he was even alive and whether it was worth anything. 

It will always be worth it. 

These are the only parts of you that you have left.  

A chaste reminder. A welcome one.

Nick had a track going, something smooth and ‘60s in the living room and he turned to beckon Hayko to come in as well. “Don’t just stand there, love. I’ve backed off haven’t I?” He laughed easily and went towards the desk holding the radio to change the track. Hayko thought it strange he would as he’d heard this song before—one of his favourites. 

Nick was entirely right. He had backed off, by some miracle. Hayko began to think that the prayer had worked and that this was a shot at redemption. Of course, he wouldn’t have known. He hadn’t told him anything about it, only implied he would be late until the night before, gone quietly and returned just as quietly albeit a little later. Only that part was a real fib. 

He tore himself from the wall and made after Nick, discomforted by the calmness but quickly assuaged that fear. It was irrational. Told himself that it was over, it was alright, and to take his good graces and just last the night before he could just forget for a few hours. 

He wouldn’t know. There wouldn’t be a way for him to know, there wouldn’t. 

He wouldn’t know because it’s not possible. 

It’s not possible because I tried too fucking hard just to get him across the border, fucking hell, let me have this one thing, let me have it I haven’t asked you for anything else, have I? Just let me have this, please

Hayko felt comfortable all of a sudden, the music cushioning his thoughts as he went to slide onto the couch until he realized that, here a moment before, Nick was gone again. 

“Hey, where did—” As he turned to call Nick back, he was already there and Hayko froze. Caught the cattle prod only for a fraction of a second before Nick grabbed him and pressed it into his chest, sending a tearing shock that kept his eyes wide in an immobile stare as each wave jerked through his limbs, ripped a new line of agony and lit up every nerve in his body. 

It went on for two, three agonizing seconds and his hand kept him there.

No no no  

Santiago

The last glance he caught of Nick’s face was the final blow. 

A laugh from the man who finally tore it away, letting Hayko collapse before nudging his forehead with his shoe. “You fucking idiot. And here I thought we understood each other.” 

——

Tagging @doveotions @heathenville @thewhumpstuff @thatsthewhump @adamantem-rose @lonesome--hunter @whumpsorbetism @whumpasaurus101 @lektricfergus @downrivergirl914 

[dogstarblues]

The Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard

The Blackthorn & Grim books by Juliet Marillier (choosing kindness even when it seems like people who do monstrous things dont deserve it, prison abolition, community-building, healing)

The Sevenwaters books by (women!! who are all strong in their own ways! who measure their days in kindnesses) Juliet Marillier

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison (one of my fav books just beautifully written)

The Cemetaries of Amalo books (spin-off of The Goblin Emperor) by Katherine Addison

Ring Shout! by P. Djeli Clark (mc chooses kindness in an unconventional way at the penultimate moment as a Hunter of Monsters and chooses kindness every time with the people she cares for and protects)

Chalice by Robin McKinley (mc doing her goddamned best to steward the land and connect with the people)

Penric & Desdemona books by Lois McMaster Bujold

Something Human by A.J. Demas

Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree

The Wayward Children series by Seanan McGuire

Monk & Robot Series by Becky Chambers

according to my interjecting roommate: Russian Folklore

if youre into webcomics:

50 Tea Recipes for the Duchess (this character builds community through her passion for tea)

The Villainess's Stationary Shop (just leaving wealth and status behind to fulfill her dreams of making alchemical snacks and enspelled treats and stationary for children 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺)

Not Sew Wicked Stepmom (every time she tries to protect her step daughter Blanche from dieting culture and reassures Blanche that children have the right to eat im!!!!!!!! and the kindness to other women!!!!! helping her husband work through his trauma!!!!!! designing clothes for children!!! i adore this one)

My Farm by the Palace (theres nothing good bread, good bakery items, and cutlets cant fix)

Castle Swimmer (🥺 these kids)

Suitor Armor (lovely art style love the story)

Poetry (if you consider The Speaker a character):

Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude by Ross Gay

All of It Singing by Linda Gregg

The Book of Medicines by Linda Hogan

Homie by Danez Smith (extremely explicitly abt love for queer community and friend-love)

Is, Is Not by Tess Gallagher

The Lunatic by Charles Simic

Here: Poems for the Planet

most of what Vladimir Mayakovsky has written on communism and love which is most of what Vladimir Mayakovsky has written

anything by Rumi

Choosing Kindness Book Recs

I’m been thinking about stories and the types of things I like to read.  I usually think in terms of genre, I love fantasy and space opera and very specific types of romance to name a few.  But one type of story I really gravitate to isn’t tied to genre at all (though most of my examples are fantasy).  I love stories about genuinly good people doing their best to make the world a better place.  Now that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy stories about anti-heroes, rogues or very flawed characters, I do.  But there is a very unique flavor to these stories despite wildly different settings so thought I’d make a list of these types of stories.  Characters who, when given a choice, choose kindness.  I’ll add more as I think of them but please feel free to add on to this list with your own recs.

The Young Wizards series by Diane Duane  Book 1: So You Want to Be A Wizard 

All the Heralds of Valdemar books by Mercedes Lackey  Book 1: Arrows of the Queen

The Order of the Air by Melissa Scott and Jo Graham  Book 1: Lost Things

Stealing Fire by Jo Graham (I don’t know if this trait carries over to the rest of the Numinous World books, I only just started reading the series, but Lydias is such a great character.  There are so many moments were he could be selfish or cruel and the world he lives in would excuse or even encourage it but he chooses kindness instead.)

[vladimir-faircrest]

War Preparations

His first night to Braemar had been an experience. Never before had Vladimir traveled through a duchy of someone he knew and to say he was impressed was an understatement. Everywhere he looked, it reminded him of Sunnyglade, the hustle and bustle of small village life that was once so familiar to him and now just a vague shadow of the past. Riding through the worn roads, the warrior soon found himself at Adhelin’s manor. Even as the guards saluted him as he rode up, a stableboy was already rushing out to attend to the man’s horse. All of it left Vladimir feeling a bit bewildered and out of place as he made his way inside the stately home. A small cough ripped him out of his reverie as he turned to face the guard trying to get his attention.

“Excuse me, Captain Baustent. Her Grace is waiting for you in her quarters and asks you report there upon your arrival. She claims to have important information for you regarding the surveys you will be doing.”

Vladimir just answered with a stern smile and curt nod after being given directions to her chambers. Even as he made his way through the ornate halls, he found himself lost in a sense of wonderment. It was not until Adhelin’s townhouse had he ever really encountered finery and this place made her’s almost look like a hovel. Everywhere hung rich tapestries and paintings, side tables adorned with vases of freshly cut flowers and small statuettes. It was all a bit overwhelming he admitted to himself as he reached the door. A small knock, one designed for just the two of them, was all it took to announce him. Even behind the heavy wood he could hear the sultry purr to her voice as the Dutchess called him in. Closing the door behind him, a small smile crept onto his face as she stood there in naught but an open robe and a smile, already pouring him a glass. Coy smile playing upon her lips and the exaggerated sway to her walk was not lost on him as she approached promises of the night to come filling the air with her movements. Offering him the glass and tender kiss, she whispered softly into his ear and a grin crossed his scarred face…

The surveys had yielded little in the way of interesting results. Braemar was buried so deeply back in the mountains of Redridge that the landscape provided an adequate natural defense that was only further enhanced by the presence of the guard. The other Holt lands seemed to have similar natural defenses, either in the way of rivers, difficult terrain, or mountainous crags. Riding into Addlewood, Vladimir’s final stop, he quickly introduced himself again to the House guard, while garbed in his formal blues, before making his rounds. Despite never having done this before, the retired mercenary had already fallen into an easy routine of inspection. He began with the guardsmen, examining their armour as they greeted the man with quick salutes and bewildered glances to one another at what would cause the Captain of the Lionsguard to be making these sorts of inspections, before moving onto the manor. Walking with the head of each of the manor guards, they would crawl through nearly every portion of the building, looking for cracks in the mortar, areas sparsely patrolled, or even just places that seemed far too dark even in the late afternoon light. Once a list of issues and flaws had been drawn up for the building itself, the Captain rode out with one of the woodsmen or hunters employed for a quick overview of the surrounding lands.

It was clear that all involved were curious as to the Lionsguard Captain’s actions, but none sought to glean any information from him. A stern but polite demeanour left them realizing he was here for a reason and would not be gone until he was satisfied with the results. They would find Vladimir asking a great number of questions; everything from the mundane inquiries to the day to day activities in the house to asking about the construction of the buildings to even asking how prepared the stores were not just for the manor, but the surrounding area. His questions combined with his serious expression left more questions than he asked, often causing the men to question themselves or go searching for answers.

Having finished his examination of Addlewood, Vladimir went to the stables for the black stallion which he had borrowed for just this purpose. While tall and strong, he was a mild tempered, older stallion though his rich black coat did little to show his age. A slight greying around the eyes and an easy temperament of an old veteran were the only signs of his advanced age. He took to his new rider hesitantly at first, wondering if the heavily armoured man sought to ride him into battle, but was soon content in the fact they were just going for a long needed walk. Smiling to himself as he cinched the horse’s saddle, a small movement caught the corner of Vladimir’s eye. Without bothering to look up, he spoke in low, even tones so as not to spook the animal.

“Come on out, boy. I already know you’re there.”

Creeping out from behind the wood wall came a tall, skinny lad in his mid-teens with a mop of brown hair and an easy, albeit nervous, smile. Turning to the kid, Vladimir quickly gave him an appraising glance before settling on a look of confusion. Wide-eyed that he’d somehow offended the guard Captain, the boy quickly fell over himself, stuttering and stammering in apology until Vladimir just held up a hand to stop his babbling.

“Easy, boy, easy. Now then, why don’t we just start with you telling me your name.”

Swallowing nervously, the boy tried a smile as he answered but to no avail, “T-T-Tomen, my lord. I work in th-the kitchens.”

Chuckling, Vladimir moved to lean against one of the walls, hoping to put the nervous boy at ease, “I’m not Lord, Tomen of the Kitchens. In fact, I’m probably more lowborn than yourself. Call me Vlad.”

Tomen quickly nodded; so fast in fact that Vladimir was convinced his head was going to snap free and go flying into one of the hay bales behind them. Noticing the boy wasn’t offering any more information in this state, the Captain just gave him a gentle smile.

“I’m sure you didn’t just stray to the stables in search of a quick glance at another soldier, Tomen. Speak your mind.”

“Well, s-s-sir, umm…” he stammered, trying to explain himself. With a deep breath, he tried to relax but instead the words all came flowing out at once, “I-know-you-were-surveying-the-area-but-the-other-day-when-I-went-to-get-rabbits-for-dinner-I-saw-some-odd-tracks-deep-in-the-woods-and-no-one-believed-me.”

Brow furrowing as a frown crossed, his lips, Vladimir’s stance quickly shifted from one of relaxation to one of duty and purpose. “Show me,” he instructed, causing the boy to immediately scurry. They walked for some time to the fringes of Addlewood’s lands until they reached a dense thicket. Making their way carefully through, Vladimir quickly realized why no one had bothered to show him this area, it was nearly impassable. Bursting through the brambles and branches, he and Tomen discovered a small clearing, not more than five to seven meters wide at any spot. The area, however, was thoroughly trampled. Signs of heavy bootprints marred the earth and traces of quickly broken and hidden camps were all through-out the clearing. Moving to some soft earth, Vladimir quickly dug down and soon found the remains of a pit fire, still slightly warm to the touch. Face grim, he turned immediately to head back towards Addlewood, leaving Tomen scrambling to catch-up with the much taller man.

“Wh-what is it Vlad? Bandits?”

“No,” he replied with a small sneer, “Horde are hiding in Holt lands.”

( @kaideholt @householt @adhelin for mentions )

[kravinova]

tag drop, part 2

[itsiotrecords-blog]

http://ift.tt/2twgGUp

Death comes for everyone, even the rich and famous, but sometimes it shows up a bit sooner than expected. On more than one occasion famous figures have found themselves face to face with the Grim Reaper. The ten people on this list outwitted Death and went on to alter the course of history… for a while, anyway.

#1 Charles Dickens Almost Died In A Train Wreck While he’s one of the most beloved authors of all time, Charles Dickens was kind of a jerk. After his wife gave birth to ten kids, suffered multiple bouts of post-partum depression and gained a lot of weight, the writer ditched her for a much younger actress named Ellen Ternan. The couple spent a lot of time hanging out in France, and it was on one of their trips that Dickens almost met an early end. After a vacation in Boulogne, Dickens and his lady fair caught a boat and then boarded a train for London. Miss Ternan’s mother was tagging along, and the trio boarded the 2:38 train on June 9, 1865. Disaster was waiting to strike — a team of construction workers had removed the tracks from a viaduct crossing the River Beult. They’d gotten their schedule screwed up and didn’t know the train was on its way. Despite the engineer’s best efforts to stop, the train plummeted off the bridge. Every one of the first class carriages crashed into the swamps below, except for the one carrying Dickens. Thanks to a strong coupling on a second-class car, Dickens was spared a horrible fate. But he wasn’t out of the woods yet — his car was dangling off the side of the bridge. Thinking fast, Dickens climbed out and rescued his traveling companions. Then he went back inside, grabbed his top hat and brandy, and ran down to the marshes below. Over the next few hours, Dickens rescued passengers and gave the wounded sips from his flask. He even filled his hat full of water for the injured to drink. And just before heading home Dickens realized that his unfinished copy of Our Mutual Friend was still in the dangling car, so he crawled back inside and pulled it out. Ten people died that horrible day in Staplehurst, and over forty were injured. But while Dickens might’ve escaped physically, he was emotionally scarred for the rest of his life. Dickens inexplicably lost his voice for two weeks, and then he started experiencing trembling, panic attacks and an overwhelming fear of trains. Strangely enough, Dickens passed away on the fifth anniversary of the day that ruined his life.

#2 Mel Blanc Almost Died In A Car Crash In addition to voicing all of the Looney Tunes, Mel Blanc also gave life to characters like Woody Woodpecker and Dino the Dinosaur. Of course, he’ll always be remembered as the man behind Bugs Bunny, that wisecracking, carrot-chomping rabbit that, uh, saved Mel’s life. It was 1961, and Blanc was heading to San Francisco when tragedy struck. Driving down a dangerous turn known as Dead Man’s Curve, Mel was hit by an out of control Oldsmobile. The oncoming vehicle totally crushed the actor’s Aston Martin, and paramedics had to haul out the jaws of life and whisk him off to the UCLA Medical Center. When Mel showed up in the ER, doctors were skeptical about his chances. He was suffering from a broken pelvis and broken legs, and had fallen into a deep coma. Physicians tried their best to bring him back, but for two long weeks the comedian was completely unconscious. And that’s when neurosurgeon Louis Conway got a wild idea. The doctor walked up to his bed and asked, “Bugs Bunny, how are you today?” Mel responded in his trademark New York accent, “Eh? What’s up, Doc?” Over the next several minutes, Dr. Conway talked to several other characters like Daffy Duck and Porky Pig. Each time Mel responded in character, complete with stutters and lisps. And then, suddenly, he snapped out of his coma. The real Mel was back. As for Dead Man’s Curve, the city of Los Angeles decided to reshape the road, preventing any future accidents.

#3 George Washington Was Almost Shot On Multiple Occasions Everybody knows George Washington was for the first President of the United States, but did you know that this iconic American almost never made it to the White House? In 1754, Washington was promoted to lieutenant colonel of the British army, right in time for the French and Indian War. He played a crucial role in a battle outside Fort Duquesne — it was July 9, 1755, and the British were marching on the French fort when they were caught in a clearing by the French’s Indian allies. Perhaps due to his outdated views on warfare, the British general, Edward Braddock, refused to let Washington send men into the woods to fight the natives. As a result, Braddock took a bullet to the chest. Washington rallied the troops and lead an effective retreat, but not before multiple marksmen tried to take him out. By the time the Brits had escaped, snipers had shot two of Washington’s horses, knocked off his hat, and put four musket balls through his coat. Miraculously, Washington escaped unharmed. This wasn’t the last time the man would cheat death. In 1777, Washington found himself facing the very nation he’d once served. It was September 11, and he desperately needed to stop the 12,500 British soldiers heading towards Philadelphia. So the morning before the showdown at Brandywine Creek, General Washington rode out to inspect the battlefield. Little did he know that a band of sharpshooters was hiding in a nearby clump of trees. These weren’t ordinary snipers. They were led by Captain Patrick Ferguson, a Scotsman who was the best shot in the British Empire. The man even invented his own rifle. And here he was, ordering three of his men to fire on this unknown officer. However, before they could take him out, Ferguson canceled the order. Something about ambushing the man felt wrong. Ferguson, ever the gentleman, shouted out to let the officer know he was there. When Washington spotted the marksman, he began to ride away. Now it was all fair, and Ferguson could’ve “lodged half a dozen balls” in his target, but he let the American ride away. Hours later, after the British won the battle, an injured Ferguson learned the identity of the man he’d let slip away. Imagine how different the world would be today if he had pulled that trigger.

#4 Vladimir Lenin Was Almost Assassinated Under the rule of Vladimir Lenin at least 10,000 Russians were murdered in September and October 1918 alone. The event that kicked off all those killings was the very same incident that put Lenin on our list. The story starts in 1890, with the birth of Fanya “Fanny” Kaplan. Born to a Jewish Ukrainian family, Kaplan grew up a member of the Socialist Revolutionary Party with an emphasis on the “revolutionary.” When she was just sixteen she tried to blow up one of the Tsar’s lackies, which got her thrown into a Siberian prison camp for eleven years. Kaplan was released thanks to the February Revolution of 1917, but she didn’t stay a fan of Lenin for long. In just a matter of months, the Bolsheviks had gotten rid of the Constituent Assembly and tightened their hold on the government. Ticked off at Lenin’s power play, Kaplan decided to revisit her assassinating ways. On September 3, 1918, Lenin was giving a speech at a Moscow factory, and when he left the plant he ran into several bullets courtesy of Comrade Kaplan. She put one bullet in his shoulder and another in his jaw, but unfortunately for Kaplan Lenin was a pretty tough dude and survived the assassination attempt. Five days later, Kaplan was executed. She was only twenty-eight-years-old. To make things even worse, on the same day one Leonid Kannegisser killed Moisei Uritsky, a member of the Russian secret police. Paranoia running understandably high, Lenin decided to wipe out anyone he considered an enemy. Tragically, Kaplan’s assassination attempt led to the four-year crackdown known as Red Terror, one of the bloodiest massacres in the history of the Soviet Union.

#5 Hunter S. Thompson Almost Killed Bill Murray Hunter S. Thompson was, without a doubt, one of the wildest writers in history. This was the guy who hung out with the Hell’s Angels, ran for sheriff of Aspen, Colorado while pledging to legalize drugs, and used cocaine like there was no tomorrow. Thompson had quite a few celebrity friends, several of whom he almost killed. He nearly gave Jack Nicholson a heart attack by sneaking up on his house in the middle of the night, shining a spotlight through the windows, playing a recording of a dying animal, and firing several gunshots into the air. And while Johnny Depp was living in Thompson’s basement, the future Captain Jack Sparrow noticed that the table Thompson had provided as a night stand (which supported an ashtray) was actually a crate of dynamite. However, the closest he came to actually murdering a star was the time Thompson almost offed Bill Murray. In 1980, the comedian played a version of Thompson in the movie Where the Buffalo Roam. In order to get the feel of the character Murray spent a lot of time with the journalist, essentially morphing into another version of Thompson complete with all his eccentricities. The two were so tight that Thompson once called Murray up at 3:33 in the morning to discuss his idea for “Shotgun Golf,” the craziest sport ever invented. Their friendship took a bizarre turn at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen, Colorado. The spot was one of Thompson’s favorite hangouts, and he could often be found lounging in the bar. One night, Thompson and Murray were standing near the swimming pool and discussing who was the better escape artist. Wanting to prove Murray was the lesser magician, Thompson duct taped him to a lawn chair and tossed him into the pool. As you might expect, Murray wasn’t able to free himself, and Thompson waited till the actor was nearly dead before hauling him onto dry land. Hunter S. Thompson might’ve been a colorful character, but he certainly was a dangerous friend.

#6 Gordon Ramsay Was Almost Murdered By Smugglers Like any chef, Gordon Ramsay has probably had his share of kitchen accidents, but in the real world he’s a walking disaster zone. In 2008, while filming an episode of The F Word, Ramsay was making his way down a 280-foot incline when he lost his footing. The chef slid all the way down and plunged into the freezing cold water below. Making matters worse, Ramsay was weighed down by all his climbing gear. He struggled under the water for forty-five seconds before he was dragged to shore by his crew. But that’s nothing compared to what happened in Costa Rica. In 2011, Ramsay was filming a documentary on the highly controversial and widely illegal practice of shark finning. It’s a grisly method of fishing that involves catching a shark, slicing off its fin, and chucking the animal back into the ocean to die. The practice kills 100 million sharks annually and has reduced certain populations by 95%. Unfortunately, shark fin soup is a status symbol in countries like China, where it’s slurped up by the rich and powerful. So if the problem is China, why was Ramsay in Central America? Well, that’s where the smugglers work. According to Ramsay, these crews work in facilities surrounded by “barbed-wire perimeters and gun towers.” They aren’t people you want to mess with, but Ramsay wasn’t intimidated. The Hell’s Kitchen star made his way into one of their compounds, where he found thousands of shark fins. The gangsters didn’t take kindly to his presence — as Ramsay tried to leave, they poured a barrel of gasoline on his head and tried to light him on fire. As this was happening, a group cars swarmed into the parking lot to try to prevent the chef’s escape. Fortunately, Ramsay and his crew were able to drive away… only to later run into another bunch of angry, armed smugglers who held Ramsay at gunpoint until local cops showed up. They weren’t exactly heroes — the officers sided with the gangsters and ordered Ramsay to leave or face deportation. But at least he wasn’t set on fire.

#7 Mark Twain Was Almost Killed In A Duel Before he gave life to Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain worked as a miner, printer and, most famously, a riverboat pilot. Twain was also an accomplished reporter, but it was his journalistic ways that almost sent him to an early grave. In 1864, Twain was appointed editor-in-chief of the Virginia City Daily Enterprise, but his new position only lasted about a week. The curly-headed writer started a 19th century flame war with James Laird, editor of the rival Daily Union. After a vicious back and forth that involved a lot of name calling, Twain decided to humiliate his enemy in the most embarrassing way possible — he’d challenge Laird to a duel. Twain assumed Laird would turn down the duel, and then everyone would think the Union editor was a coward. At first Twain’s plan seemed to work, because Laird said no. But Twain took his act a little too far — feigning righteous indignation, Twain challenged Laird not once, but two more times… and Laird said yes. Now Twain was in a bit of a tight spot, as he was a lousy shot. In the days leading up to the match, Twain drove a rail into the ground, set a squash on top of it, armed himself with a Navy six-shooter, took the customary fifteen paces back and tried hitting his imaginary opponent. Twain missed every single time. Things were looking rather grim for our hero, but that’s when he heard gunfire coming from a nearby ravine. James Laird was practicing as well, and Twain was afraid that his enemy would send spies to watch Twain practice. Thinking fast, Twain’s second—a man named Stave Gillis—blew the head off of a little songbird nearly thirty paces away. When Laird’s buddies showed up, Gillis claimed that Twain was the man who’d pulled the trigger. Shaken, Laird’s pals hustled back to their boss, and on that very same day Twain received a letter from his rival calling off the duel. That was good news, as Laird was a competent shot who hit his practice target 13 out of 18 times.

#8 Uma Thurman Was Almost Crushed By A Van Acting is a dangerous profession. Working on location, performing stunts, handling dangerous weapons… someone could end up seriously hurt. Actors like Brandon Lee and Vic Morrow died on set, and in 2009 Uma Thurman almost found herself a member of that unenviable club. The actress was relaxing at the bottom of a hill while on break from shooting Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lighting Thief when a van started rolling straight towards her. The transportation crew had forgot to set the parking brake, and in just a few moments Thurman was going to end up road kill. And that’s when James Bond showed up. Pierce Brosnan was working on the same film and saw the van lurching forward. He shouted for Uma to move, but she couldn’t hear her co-star’s cries. Going into 007 mode, the actor rushed down the hill, jumped inside the van, and slammed on the brakes. While the van smashed into the curb and took out a few garbage cans, Uma Thurman got out of the way. Believe it or not, this wasn’t the first time Brosnan saved a leading lady. While filming a love scene with Halle Berry on Die Another Day, the actress decided to do a little improv. She grabbed a knife, cut a fig and took a bite, only to start choking. Fortunately, Brosnan kept his cool and gave Halle the Heimlich, saving her from death by fig.

#9 Benedict Cumberbatch Was Kidnapped And Almost Murdered While he hasn’t solved any real-life crimes, Benedict Cumberbatch has had his fair share of adventures. On a trip to Nepal, the Sherlock actor found himself lost in the mountains and had to follow a trail of yak droppings back to civilization. But that pales in comparison to what went down in 2005 when Cumberbatch was filming the BBC miniseries To the End of the Earth. Cumberbatch was on location in South Africa, and one evening the actor was driving outside of Durban with two of his friends. Unfortunately, one of their tires went flat, and as the trio tried to repair it six armed thugs pulled up alongside them. Things went south fast. After they were searched for valuables, Benedict and his friends were tied up and thrown into a car. The robbery had become a kidnapping. Cumberbatch was afraid he’d end up murdered, but  he was also concerned about the ropes around his arms. They were a little tight, but when he complained the gangsters tossed him into the trunk. Cumberbatch was terrified, but for some mysterious reason the kidnappers eventually pulled over, dumped the trio on the side of the road, and drove off. A little later, when a stranger chanced by and freed them from their bonds, Benedict broke down crying with gratitude. The incident had an understandably profound impact on the Englishman, giving him a new appreciation for life.

#10 George Orwell Was Shot By A Sniper As the author of Animal Farm and 1984, most people assume that George Orwell was rabidly anti-communist. But Orwell was a dedicated socialist who hated Joseph Stalin — while he felt the dictator had corrupted Lenin’s ideals, he was still very much in favor of Karl Marx’s ideology. He was such a diehard believer that, in 1936, he went to Spain to help the Republicans fight the fascists during the Civil War. It was a decision that almost ended his life. In 1937, Orwell was hunkered down in a trench outside Barcelona. Unfortunately, he was taller than most of his Spanish comrades, and his head stuck up out of the ditch. A sniper caught a glimpse of the Englishman and put a bullet into his throat, right between his trachea and carotid artery. Later, in his book called Homage to Catalonia, Orwell would describe being shot as being struck by lightning. “Roughly speaking,” Orwell wrote, “it was the sensation of being at the centre of an explosion.” While he didn’t feel any pain, he did feel an electrical buzz. His knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground, blood oozing all over his clothes. Fortunately a doctor saved Orwell’s life, but for some odd reason decided to keep his bloodstained neckerchiefs and scarf. Those items eventually ended up in the hands of a man named Donald Bateman, and after his passing in 2013 his family sold them at an auction for the tidy sum of £4,500.

Source: TopTenz