#william arc rose

[brokentrafficknight]

In true Arc fashion, when you weren't looking a few more kids showed up.

Introducing Aurorae "Rory" Arc Rose and her twin brother William "Will" Arc Rose

and the baby of the family, Penelope "Penny" Rose Arc.

[howlingday]

Teen: Y'know... I don't think I like Casey's music...

Ruby/Jaune: (Horrified gasps)

[onceuponalegendbg-rwby]

I want to clarify that I’m not giving up hope that things will work out in some capacity. I still want to believe that the little web show that could will find a place that will let it finish its story.

This show is so freakin popular, not only in the states but also in Japan, who not only dubbed the series but even made their own anime for it.

This show is so popular that it got a two movie crossover with the Justice League.

WB may not care about legacy or passion or creativity but they do care about money. And while I’m just some faceless voice on the internet I’d like to think WB are at least smart enough to see that RWBY is profitable. It can make them money.

My preference would be for them to also keep the writers, VAs, and music team the same. That would realistically be my most ideal scenario.

Will we get it? I don’t know. But I’m not about to doom and gloom a situation when there’s still a shot, you know.

“Blind optimism isn’t great, but no optimism means we’ve already lost. We need hope. We need to take risks.”

[novankenn]

"Jaune Gets A Gun AU - Day 3" Colonial Marines - Various...

Inspired by @howlingday's RU-JA-GUN-CON

The girls were still feeling a little off, like they had forgotten something big. Something related to the goofy knight that had captured all their hearts. But for the life of them all they couldn't put their finger on it, plus there was a sudden distrustful jealousy of Cheerleaders that they couldn't explain. So they just chose to go along with Jaune's suggestion to get some lunch.

As they were moving past the various booths on their way to the Food Court, they passed a very militaristic booth. It instantly reminded Ruby of the Mobile Infantry Recruiting Booth from Day One of the convention. She shivered, knowing that through her inaction she had allowed Jaune to enlist.

????: Jaune? Jaune is that you?

Jaune: Huh? Did someone call my name? That voice. It couldn't be?

????: It is.

Jaune: (Turns to his right) Aunt Ripley? When did you get back?

The girls all turned to their right, following Jaune's lead.

Ripley: Recently, and my, my you have gotten so BIG since the last time I saw you! Come give your Auntie a hug!

The girls watched as Jaune hugged the older woman, a bright smile on his face. When they ended the embrace, Jaune stepped back to stand with the girls.

Ripley: Now, who are these young ladies?

Jaune: Some friends from Beacon. Ruby Rose, team leader of team RWBY.

Ruby: Hi.

Jaune: Pyrrha Nikos, my partner and temamate on JNPR.

Pyrrha: Hello.

Jaune: This is Emerald Sustrai, she's from Haven and a member of team CMEN.

Emerald nods.

Jaune: and a pair of old friends from Ansel. You should remember Tiny Tina.

Ripley: I do. Good to see you again, Tina, and if my memory serves me correctly, you should be Jinx.

Jinx/Tiny Tina: Ms Ripley.

Ripley: So what brings you to this event, Jaune?

Jaune: My friends have talked me into getting a ranged option to round out my arsenal. Right now I'm only using Crocea Mors, so they think I should look at getting a gun.

Ripley: Not a bad idea. So, have you thought about what you want to get?

Jaune: A few people, I know, suggest a shotgun, but I'm still open to other ideas.

Ripley: Well, maybe I can help you. Come with me.

Ripley led the sextet towards the booth she had been at. As they closed the distance, they saw two armoured men, standing behind the display counter.

Jaune: They look a little serious.

Ripley: Hicks and Hudson are good guys, and don't let their appearances fool you (whispers to Jaune) They're big softies.

The girls spread out to look at the display case as Jaune was introduced to his Aunt Ripley's companions.

Ruby: They do have a pretty good selection.

Pyrrha: They all look pretty sturdy and robust.

Tiny Tina: What's this one? Here at the end.

Hudson: That's a M134 Motion Tracker.

Jinx: Motion tracker?

Hudson: Provides a 180 degree sensing hemisphere in the direction the operator is facing, that indicates the presence of anything moving, with distance from the operator. Great for watching for unseen or hidden threats.

Ruby: Is that a M41A with under barrel U1 grenade launcher?

Hicks: (Moving from Ripley and Jaune as they continue to talk.) You have a good eye. I have a feeling you know the specs too.

Pyrrha: She does. What about that big one? Looks like a machine gun.

Hudson: The M56 Smartgun.

Tiny Tina: Smartgun? How is it smart?

Hicks: Mounted on a self stabilizing arm that auto-tracks targets with an infrared target tracking system.

Jinx: So it would be good for someone with, like, NO firearms experience?

Hudson: It would. Takes the guess work out of hitting a target.

Tiny Tina: And this one here, next to the rifle?

Hicks: M240 Incinerator Unit. (Noticing the looks of the girls) It's a flamethrower.

Ruby/Pyrrha: Nope. Too brutal.

Hudson: When you're taking on Xenos... anything goes girlies.

Tiny Tina/Jinx: Xenos?

Hicks: Screen on the side of the booth, next to the armour display.

Girls: What the hell are those?

Hicks: Xenomorphs, or Aliens. Steel like exoskeletons and molecular acid for blood.

The girls all grew wide-eyed. Those things made the grimm look like stuffed animals. Ruby and Pyrrha grew even more concerned, knowing that the last time Jaune visited a booth about a military style unit, he ended up enlisting.

Jaune: So, what do you think? That shotgun looks promising.

Hicks: Solid and true. War Era M37 pump, modified with a short barrel, capable of slam-firing.

Jaune: The pistol looks nice too, but I think I'd go with the shotgun.

Hicks: It's my personal favourite. Like to keep it nearby for ... "close encounters"

Ripley: So, see anything that tickles your fancy, Jaune?

Jaune: I think I'll get the shotgun.

Hudson: Okay, just some paperwork to do and...

Pyrrha/Ruby: NO! (Each girl taking a side and hooking Jaune under his arm pits, and before Jaune could struggle, Tiny Tina and Jinx moved in and lifted him by his legs.)

Hicks/Hudson: (Shouting as they watched a potential customer being hauled off) What are you doing?

Ripley: Put him DOWN NOW!

Hudson: I don't get it? It's only forms to get the proper licences. That's an over reaction, if I ever saw one.

Emerald: I'm sorry, but Jaune already enlisted with the Mobile Infantry. Thank you for your time.

Ripley: HE WHAT NOW?!? JAUNE GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE! YOUR MOTHER IS SO GOING TO HEAR ABOUT THIS YOUNG MAN!

Jaune: (in the distance) I'm sorry?

Hicks: United Federation, those blood suckers always looking for fresh meat for the grinder.

Hudson: Game Over, man. Game Over.

Ripley: (Whipping about to face the two marines) Get hold of Gorman. Tell him personal favour. Find a way to get Jaune out of the that enlistment!

(So I'm giving up on the Bolding of all the speakers. If this you find it is better with the bolding, DM or comment, and I'll edit this, and continue the practice in further posts. Hope you enjoyed.)

[talesofsymphoniac]

So I'm speedrunning Utena again to see how I feel about the "Shadow Girls are Anthy's Projections" concept, and instead I'm thinking about how Chu-chu spends a lot of time hanging out with Utena without Anthy.

Like at first he's with Anthy all the time but you start having Utena take care of him when Anthy's not even there-- obviously Chu-chu stays behind when Anthy visits Akio but also things like Utena taking him for a walk at night because she's taking care of him.

And this is based on vibes only but it's always seemed to me that Chu-chu does not necessarily play the same manipulation games that Anthy does. He's not luring Utena out or purposefully distracting her, imo. He's just. Anthy's friend. Her first one.

[sonseulsoleil]

"I have chosen. Of course I've chosen. It's you, stupid."

"I will never be able to see you again." "I'll be fine. I'll be with him."

Ugh but Amy ultimately always choosing Rory is just so!!! for all the Doctor negs him, and for all Amy seems taken by the Doctor, the truth of the matter plain and simple is that she loves Rory more than anyone or anything, always and forever. no matter what. even when he can't see it.

[malice-death]

Vol.9 Music & Reactions

Well I can't believe that it took me this long to not talk about the music of V9, considering I've made plenty of posts on the other amazing songs of RWBY.

So I'll just give my thoughts, and than probably give more thorough information later.

Inside: I really need to discern the voices more, and the over all beat is amazing, like the song really makes you question yourself.

Checkmate: I've lived with Jazz for the longest time, and all I could think of is how this has serious Casino/Gambling vibes to it.

Chatterbox: This song was sooooo good, like I couldn't get enough of this mentally disturbing song!! Like Neo & Curious cat vibes.

Worthy: BUMBLEBEE FOREVER!!! Like when I first heard Bmblb for the first time, I was like "this is so cute", but to see one of favorite characters, and one of the greatest ships that the show offered get together was just too good to be true. The vocals also were one of the best things to listen to, and to think that this was all of Casey's hard work.

Trapdoor: This song had some puzzling tones, but overall I like has it describes both Jaune and Ruby in their own personal way.

Quiet: I actually cried while listening to this song, only because I loved how far Jaune has come as a character, and to think that songs has so much hurt and painful tones in it.

Guide My Way: I had to listen to all the other parts of Red Like Roses again before listening to this one, but I sobbed all over again when this started to play. Like Ruby is going so far and "the inspired the fairy tale" line hits so different now, since she did inspire so many people.

The Edge: Another emotional piece to come from this album, and while I had already listend to this one plenty of time, but I still have plenty of feels when getting the gist of the song.

Wings (Lo-Fi): This was the best song to use to end the volume. like it had the best tones for them coming back, but them not being home just yet.

[heyellaberlin]

SANDITON: The total relationship arc of Charlotte and Mr. Colbourne - Season 2 and 3 *CONTAINS S03 SPOILERS

[spandexian]

RWBY Volume 9 OP: INSIDE | Beat Saber (EXPERT+)

Hello Everyone!  In honor of the RWBY Volume 9 Finale releasing tomorrow, here is an Expert+ Beat Saber playthrough of the opening song, Inside.  This song definitely grew on me throughout the season, I listened to it before every episode to get hyped up!  I can't wait for the whole Soundtrack to come out, and hopefully be mapped on Beat Saber. 

Last chance before the final chapter to share your theories about how it's all gonna go down! 

RWBY Volume 9 Single: INSIDE  Composers:  Casey Lee Williams & Martin Gonzalez  Vocalists:  Casey Lee Williams

Mapped by @javrier

[team-iceflower]

And now I'm crying

— "Not every story has a neat and tidy ending…"

The things we grow to care about, that leave an indelible mark, come and go throughout our lives. When the final page of a chapter comes, take a deep breath, and carry what you gained onto the next.

Thank you, to everyone who worked on this series over the years.

[brokentrafficknight]

The collective Arc brood!

[howlingday]

Yo imagine jaune, ren, neptune and sun had a job in a medieval AU.

https://youtube.com/shorts/Gx8O-4X4Cxw?si=Fu0ZPxaQNNU5Ai8o

Ren Fair~

Link

Sun: I'm sorry, Madam, but your husband has fallen in battle.

Jaune: (Wearing a dress) That's not my husband.

Neptune: Oh...

Sun: Hang on. (Slaps Ren)

Ren: (Gives smoldering look, Pops back)

Sun: ...So?

Jaune: (Sobbing) It's him!

Ruby: ...Is it weird that I was expecting this?

Nora: Eh. I expected it.

Blake: (Sniffles) It's so tragic they never banged...

[speaknow-sw]

THE POET AND THE ROSE

Content : Heavy description of a battle, deaths, injuries, weapons. Historic inaccuracies (sorry it breaks my historian heart 😭)

A/N ; GUYYYYYSSS LATE CHRISTMAS GIFT : CHAPTER 3 with 3.7k words. The plot thickens ! As an history student I couldn’t resist writing a battle with none other than one of my favorite film : BRAVEHEART. So William Wallace is here my dear. (I kinda had a crush on Mel Gibson when I was little but shh). Anyway I just reread it and damnnn I cooked with Anakin’s dream you’ll see it. (Self praise is the best improvement). Enjoyyy 💕💕

꧁ Chapter 3 : Cathedrals of Wails ꧂

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

"In the clash of blades, a kinship grew,

Respect in the eyes of the fiercest few.

Though bound by war, we share the flame,

Two lives entwined in honor's name."

The battlefield was a storm of chaos and resolve, stretching across the moors under a sky heavy with gray clouds. Smoke and mist mingled in the cold air, and the clash of steel rang out like a grim symphony. Anakin Skywalker rode at the head of his forces, his black cloak snapping in the wind, his eyes scanning the enemy lines with the precision of a predator.

Opposing him stood William Wallace, the legendary Guardian of Scotland. The towering Scotsman was a figure of unyielding defiance, his face painted with the blue streaks of war, his broadsword resting easily in his massive hands. Around him, the Scottish forces formed a wall of raw determination, their banners snapping defiantly in the wind.

Anakin’s gaze locked with Wallace’s across the battlefield. There was no hatred in those blue eyes, only purpose—and a glimmer of something Anakin recognized: respect. Wallace inclined his head slightly, a warrior’s acknowledgment of an equal.

There was no time for words. Anakin raised his arm, signaling his archers to loose their volley. The sky darkened with arrows, their deadly rain slicing through the air. The Scots responded with their own barrage, their archers firing from behind crude barricades. Screams and shouts erupted as men fell on both sides, but neither line wavered.

Wallace strode forward, his booming voice carrying over the battlefield. “Hold, men! Stand firm! Today, we fight for freedom!”

His words ignited a fire in his troops, their war cries rising in unison. The Scots charged, a tidal wave of fury and resolve crashing toward the English line.

Anakin spurred his horse forward, his sword raised high. “Shields up! Hold the line!”

The English knights braced themselves, their shields locking together as the Scottish warriors slammed into them. The impact was thunderous, the clash of metal and flesh reverberating through the air. Anakin dismounted in one fluid motion, his boots sinking into the muddy ground as he joined the fray.

A Scotsman came at him, his axe arcing through the air. Anakin sidestepped, his blade flashing in a swift counterstrike. The man fell, clutching his side, but there was no time to linger. Another came at him, then another, each strike met with the precision of a seasoned warrior.

Another came at him, a wild-eyed warrior wielding a spear. Anakin dismounted in one fluid motion, his boots sinking into the sodden ground. He ducked beneath the thrust of the spear, stepping into the man’s guard. His blade flashed, severing the spearhead before driving into the Scotsman’s chest.

Around him, the battle raged. His soldiers held the line, but barely. The Scots were fierce, their war cries echoing across the moor. Anakin fought like a man possessed, his movements precise and lethal. He was a blur of black and silver, his blade cutting down enemies with an efficiency born of years of war.

Across the battlefield, Wallace fought with unmatched ferocity, his broadsword cleaving through the air. He moved like a force of nature, his strikes powerful yet controlled, his commands rallying his men even as they began to falter.

“Push forward!” Anakin roared, his deep voice carrying over the battlefield.

His men surged, their shields and swords crashing into the Scottish line. The tide of the battle began to turn, the Scots faltering under the relentless assault. Anakin fought at the front, his blade a constant blur, his movements a dance of death.

Anakin cut his way toward Wallace, the two warriors inexorably drawn together. The fighting around them seemed to recede as they faced each other, swords raised, mud and blood spattered across their armor.

Wallace studied him for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Skywalker. They say you’re a ghost on the battlefield. Let’s see if ghosts bleed.”

Anakin didn’t respond with words. He lunged, his blade meeting Wallace’s broadsword in a resounding clash. The force of the impact reverberated through his arms, but he held firm, his movements swift and precise. Wallace countered with the strength of a man who fought not for glory but for a cause, each strike carrying the weight of his people’s hopes.

The duel was a dance of skill and will, neither man gaining the upper hand for long. Anakin’s speed was matched by Wallace’s sheer power, their blades flashing in a blur of silver. Around them, the battle raged, but for a moment, it felt as though the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

Finally, Wallace stepped back, breathing heavily, his sword lowered slightly. “You fight well, Skywalker. Better than most of your kind.”

“And you fight with honor,” Anakin replied, his voice steady despite the burning in his side where an arrow had grazed him earlier.

Wallace nodded, respect shining briefly in his eyes before he raised his sword again. Their blades met once more, but the tide of the battle was shifting. The Scots were being pushed back, their lines breaking under the relentless pressure of the English forces.

Wallace raised his voice, calling for a retreat. “Fall back! Regroup at the ridge!”

Anakin didn’t pursue. He stood amidst the chaos, his sword lowered as he watched Wallace and his men withdraw. The respect between them remained unspoken but tangible, a bond forged in the crucible of battle.

As the cries of the retreating Scots faded, Anakin turned to his men, his voice calm but firm. “See to the wounded. This fight is over—for now.”

He sheathed his sword, the weight of the day settling over him. Blood trickled from the arrow wound in his side, but he paid it little mind. His thoughts lingered on Wallace, a man who fought with a fire Anakin couldn’t help but admire, even as they stood on opposite sides of a war.

Victory belonged to the English that day, but Anakin knew it was only a momentary respite. The war was far from over, and his path would inevitably cross with Wallace’s again.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

"Victory tastes of ash and steel, A hollow triumph I cannot feel. For every life my blade has claimed, I bear the weight, my soul is stained.

The banners fly, the crowds still cheer, Yet silence grows where none can hear. Is the glory worth the blood-soaked way, When shadows haunt both night and day?"

The battlefield’s roar had long faded, replaced by the quiet hum of the night. In his tent, the air was heavy with the scent of blood and sweat, the residue of a hard-fought day. Anakin sat alone, the flickering light of a lantern casting shadows across the canvas walls.

He removed his gauntlets with slow, deliberate movements, flexing his fingers as if the stiffness in his hands might ease the tightness in his chest. His wound—shallow but angry—throbbed beneath his tunic, but he barely noticed it. His mind was elsewhere.

The small leather notebook lay on the makeshift desk before him, its cover worn from years of service. It had once been a tool for mapping strategies and sketching plans, but now it served a different purpose. A quill sat beside it, its tip poised like a question he wasn’t yet ready to answer.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. He could still hear the clash of swords, the cries of men falling, the steady rhythm of his own breathing as he fought. But beneath those memories, another image surfaced: your face.

He saw the softness of your expression as you watched him leave, the way your fingers brushed the edge of your gown when you thought no one was looking. He recalled the faint scent of lavender that lingered near you, a contrast to the grit and grime of his world.

Opening his eyes, he reached for the quill and dipped it into the inkwell. The first words came slowly, hesitant and uneven.

"She lingers in the quiet spaces of my mind, A shadow soft and fleeting, yet unkind. For how can one so gentle haunt me still, When all my life has bent to war’s cruel will?"

The lines startled him. He hadn’t intended to write about you, but there you were, emerging from the depths of his thoughts like a persistent flame. He set the quill down, running a hand through his hair.

Anakin hadn’t wanted this marriage. It was a treaty, a necessity, nothing more. Or so he had told himself. But the more he thought of you, the more that belief unraveled. You were more than a treaty, more than a pawn in a game of kings and generals.

He picked up the quill again, his hand steadier this time.

"She stands a world away from steel and fire, A quiet strength beneath her heart’s desire. And yet, I falter, caught within her gaze, A man unworthy of her gentle ways."

He paused, his jaw tightening. Was he unworthy? The question gnawed at him. You were so unlike the world he knew—soft where he was hard, quiet where he was loud. Yet in your softness, there was a strength he couldn’t deny.

Closing the notebook, Anakin leaned back in his chair and stared at the lantern’s flickering flame. For the first time in years, he felt something unfamiliar—hope, fragile and unsteady, but real.

Perhaps this marriage was more than a duty. Perhaps, despite himself, he was beginning to see you not as a symbol of peace, but as something far more dangerous.

Someone worth fighting for.

The light of the afternoon waned, stretching golden rays through the narrow windows of the tower studio. Your hands moved instinctively, the brush in your grasp guided by memory and longing. Each stroke built the shape of him—the strong line of his jaw, the determined set of his brow, the curve of his armor catching light.

The unfinished painting loomed before you, half-realized yet already brimming with life. His eyes were incomplete, shadowed outlines awaiting the weight of detail. They haunted you the most, those eyes, vivid even now in your mind. You had seen them blaze with frustration, glint with cold calculation, and—just once—soften as he regarded you before he left.

You paused, setting the brush down with a sigh. The studio was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the hearth and the soft rustle of the wind beyond the stone walls. It was a silence you had grown accustomed to, but one that seemed heavier now.

Isolation clung to you like a second skin. Since Anakin’s departure, the castle had grown emptier, despite the presence of bustling servants and noble visitors. Their voices were distant, their laughter hollow. None of it mattered. None of them mattered.

Your gaze returned to the painting. It was maddening, this pull he had over you, even from miles away. You tried to focus on your anger, the frustration of his coldness, his guarded demeanor. He was a man of stone and steel, a soldier who saw you as nothing more than a duty.

And yet, your fingers yearned to trace the lines of his face. Your mind clung to the rare moments when his facade cracked—the softness in his voice when he spoke to his men, the unspoken apology in his gaze when he had mounted his horse to leave.

As you picked up the brush again, your thoughts blurred, a haze of longing and anger intertwining.

That night, your dreams were vivid.

He stood before you in the castle courtyard, his armor glinting in the moonlight, his expression unreadable. You reached out to touch him, but the distance between you stretched impossibly far. The harder you tried to reach him, the more the space widened, until he disappeared into the shadows.

When you woke, the ache in your chest was as real as the cool dawn air seeping through the tower walls. You rose, lit a candle, and returned to the painting.

It wasn’t enough to ease the loneliness, but it was something.

The castle halls were quiet in the early evening, the fading light casting long shadows along the cold stone walls. You had been walking aimlessly, your thoughts tangled in loneliness and frustration, when a flicker of movement caught your eye.

A servant, hurrying through a side corridor, clutching a scroll adorned with the royal seal of your father, King Phillip of France. There was nothing unusual about correspondence in the castle, but the servant’s furtive glances and rapid steps made your heart beat faster. You followed quietly, staying just out of sight.

The servant stopped at the door to Count Aulbry’s chambers, rapping quickly before disappearing down the corridor. Suspicion gnawed at you. Count Aulbry had been a close advisor to your father for years, but something about his presence here had always unsettled you. He spoke in slippery tones, his words polished but never quite sincere.

You waited until the hallway was empty before stepping toward the door. It was slightly ajar, and from within, you could hear the rustle of parchment and the low murmur of Aulbry’s voice.

“Your Majesty’s plan is bold,” Aulbry said, his tone laced with intrigue. “The General will never suspect.”

A pause, then the sound of a quill scratching against paper.

“Yes, of course. The treaty was always a means to an end. Once the English army is stretched thin in Scotland, the betrayal will be swift. The princess? A mere pawn, as intended.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Betrayal. The word echoed in your mind like a thunderclap. You pressed yourself against the wall, straining to hear more.

“The Princess is naive,” Aulbry continued, his voice dismissive. “She will remain loyal to her husband, and in doing so, unwittingly secure our advantage. The General will fall, and the balance of power will tip in France’s favor.”

Rage and disbelief surged through you. Your father had orchestrated this marriage not for peace but for manipulation. He intended to exploit Anakin, to shatter the fragile truce between England and France. And you—his own daughter—were nothing more than a tool in his game.

Your fingers curled into fists as you stepped away from the door, your mind racing. You needed to see the letter.

Later that night, when the castle had grown still, you slipped into Count Aulbry’s chambers. The door creaked faintly as you pushed it open, and the faint scent of ink and parchment filled the air. His desk was cluttered with maps and letters, but it didn’t take long to find the one bearing your father’s seal.

Your hands trembled as you unrolled the parchment.

To Count Aulbry,

The treaty is a foundation upon which we will build our triumph. Skywalker is a formidable opponent, but even he cannot fight battles on two fronts. Scotland will drain their resources, and when the time is right, our forces will strike England's weakened strongholds. The Barbarian leader of Scotland will keep him occupied and the crown made sure to pay her allies handsomely. He must never know of the alliance or the possibility of his rallying with the General is great.  

The Princess must remain unaware of our intentions. Her loyalty to her husband will be our greatest asset. Continue to monitor the situation and ensure the plan proceeds without deviation. 

IV LE BEL 

The words blurred as tears pricked your eyes. Your father had betrayed not only Anakin but you as well. This wasn’t peace—it was deceit.

You rolled the letter carefully and tucked it into your gown. What should you do? The question loomed large, its weight almost unbearable. Anakin—cold as he often was toward you—deserved to know the truth. But could you trust him with it? Could you trust anyone?

For now, you decided, this secret would remain yours alone. The risk was too great, the stakes too high. You couldn’t act without a plan, and the tangled web of politics and betrayal demanded caution.

Slipping back into your chambers, you locked the door and leaned against it, your heart pounding. You pulled out the letter once more, reading it under the dim light of a candle.

The game your father played was dangerous, and you were caught in the center of it. But you were no longer the naive pawn Aulbry believed you to be.

You folded the letter carefully, tucking it away in a hidden compartment of your desk. The weight of what you knew settled heavily on your shoulders, but resolve burned in your chest.

For now, you would watch, listen, and wait. If your father sought to use you as a weapon, he had underestimated the strength of the blade.

The night stretched long, cloaked in restless silence. The world seemed to hold its breath, and in the stillness, two hearts, separated by miles of cold earth and bloodied battlefields, beat in unison, tethered by invisible threads.

Anakin lay stiff on the hard cot in his tent, the air thick with the mingling scents of sweat, damp earth, and the smoldering embers of campfires. His armor, dented and streaked with the grime of war, rested against the far wall, catching the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the canvas. He drifted into sleep slowly, unwillingly, his mind clawing at the waking world before giving way to exhaustion.

The dream came quickly.

He stood amidst a battlefield that was no longer a battlefield. The ground beneath his feet shifted from mud soaked in blood to the cold stone floors of a cathedral. The air smelled of iron and incense. Church bells rang out, their mournful tones blending with the distant wails of the wounded. Above him, stained glass windows cast fractured light across the ground, painting his armor in hues of crimson and gold.

Vultures perched on the rafters, their beady eyes gleaming, watching, waiting. Anakin’s hand moved instinctively to the hilt of his sword, but when he looked down, he found it missing.

Ahead, you appeared, standing at the altar. Your hands were folded, your figure bathed in an otherworldly glow. The softness of your gaze contrasted sharply with the jagged edges of this warped place.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice hollow, reverberating off the cathedral walls.

“I am always here,” you replied, stepping closer.

As you moved, the cathedral twisted again. The stained glass shattered, raining shards that dissolved before they touched the ground. The bells grew louder, their toll turning into the shriek of metal clashing. He reached out to you, but the space between you stretched impossibly far.

The vultures swooped down, their forms changing mid-flight into soldiers with faces he recognized—brothers, enemies, and ghosts of his past. They surrounded him, their hands grasping, pulling him back.

“Anakin!” you called, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. He roared your name in return, fighting to reach you, but his hands closed around nothing but smoke.

When he woke, the air in his tent was frigid. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, and his heart thundered against his ribs. The moonlight cast long shadows across the canvas walls, their shifting forms reminding him too much of the dream.

He sat up, his hand brushing against the small leather notebook he had tucked beneath his pillow. It was your notebook, left behind on your desk the day he departed. He had taken it without thinking, intending to use it to record military strategies, but instead, it had become something else entirely.

Anakin lit a lantern and opened the notebook, staring at the blank page before him. His fingers hesitated, the pen hovering over the paper. What could he say? How could he name this ache, this pull toward you that he neither understood nor welcomed?

Finally, the words came, spilling out in raw, uneven lines.

"Enemies can shapeshift from slaughterhouses to cathedrals, Ringing with church bells, echoing with wails, filled with vultures. But your face remains, unyielding against the storm, A light in a place where light was never meant to be."

He stared at the words for a long time before closing the notebook. The night stretched on, but sleep did not return.

Back at the castle, the world was no kinder to you. The wind howled outside the tower walls, and the fire in the hearth struggled against the cold. You stood before your easel, the unfinished painting of Anakin dominating your vision.

The brush trembled in your hand as you tried to capture his likeness. His eyes—those piercing, unreadable eyes—remained the most elusive. Every stroke felt wrong, every attempt at completing them futile.

Your dreams had been plagued by him again. You had seen him standing on a battlefield, surrounded by shadowed figures. He was reaching for you, his expression torn between rage and despair. You had called out to him, but the storm had swallowed your voice.

Now, as you stared at the canvas, the memory of the dream lingered. He had appeared vulnerable, stripped of the cold armor he wore in his waking hours. You hated him for the way he made you feel—this unbearable longing, this ache that twisted in your chest.

And yet, you painted. Stroke by stroke, you poured your anger, your yearning, your confusion into the image of him. When exhaustion finally claimed you, the painting was still unfinished, his eyes nothing more than shadowed outlines.

In the quiet of the castle, as the fire died and the wind stilled, the two of you, separated by miles, carried the weight of unspoken words and unacknowledged truths, dreaming of each other in the silence.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

The vultures cry where the church bells toll, 

Between slaughtered earth and a fractured soul. 

Smoke rises where roses should bloom, 

A battlefield cursed, a cathedral’s tomb.

[the-flys-buzz]

i will!!!!!!! i should be fine....... n yeah a small bowl would be great :3

im just gonna.... drop this guy here again....... oh and. for the time being. teleports all of you back to jake and steven's house!!!!!

wh. oh and we're back....

//@the-flys-buzz (giving him an opportunity to talk with his son again........ cause im pretty sure harrys mod is asleep :3c)

[[THEY ARE BACK! Also. Literally.. the first thing Steven did when he got back was hug William </3]]

“Are you okay??did you sleep well? are you hungry?? I can make you food-“

[oue… he sounds extremely worried HEL.]

“Holy fuck Steven. You are going to kill xe holy shit-“

[[also!! Nods nods! Father son bonding…)

[novankenn]

"Jaune Gets A Gun AU - Day 3" Zombie Rampage...

Doom / Ash vs Evil Dead / Lollipop Chainsaw

All five girls shuffled behind Jaune as he walked back into the Convention Centre for the third day of the event. He was embarrassed and a little upset, plus confused. His lips were bruised, his face red, and his neck covered in hickeys and love bites. He knew ever single person that saw him was judging him.

The girls were a little embarrassed themselves, having given into their urges and competitive impulses. They all knew they had all molested the man, and for Emerald the girl of their dreams. Add in the fact he hadn't said two words to them since the incident, they all were worried they took it too far.

Jaune: (Over his shoulder) Best behaviour. We're here to get me a ranged option.

The quintet of young women nodded in agreement.

Jaune: And we will talk about what hap...

Bystander: RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

Civilian: NO! IT CAN'T BE!?!

Street Prophet: I WAS RIGHT!

The crowd started to push past the sextet. All their eyes trying to see what was causing such wide panic.

Jaune: Over there...

Ruby/Pyrrha/Tiny Tina/Jinx: What the...

Emerald: What ARE those...

Jaune: Zombies.

The Girls: Say, what now?

Jaune: I want you all to stay back.

Pyrrha: We can help!

Jaune: No, you can't. I need you all to get to safety.

Ruby: Yes, we CAN!

Jaune: Have you ever been bitten by a Zombie?

Ruby: (Meekly) No.

Jaune: Even the slightest scratch, even with aura, you would doom yourselves to turning...

Tiny Tina: What about you? If that could happen to us, it could...

Jaune: It can't. I've been bitten before... and apparently I'm immune.

Tiny Tina/Jinx/Ruby/Emerald/Pyrrha: Say, what now?

Jaune: Get to safety!

The girls hesitated as Jaune reached out his hand and pulled a familiar looking chainsaw from thin air.

Pyrrha: Come with us, you can't do this alone!

????: He's not alone.

Jaune: Ash? When did you get here?

Ash: Been here since the start of the convention. S-Mart Booth. Shop Smart Shop S-Mart.

Jaune: Is it just us?

????: Nope.

Jaune: Juliet! Doom-guy!

Juliet: Hey, ya, Sweet cheeks! Looks like the gang's all back together!

Doom-Guy: (Grunts)

Tiny Tina: (To the other girls) Did he say the one in the armour's name is Doom-Guy?

The others just nod, and watch in complete and utter disbelief at this scenario, as Jaune starts his chant. Ia flash of light, Jaune changed.

Juliet: You are so adorable in that outfit! I just want to accessorize with you!

Jaune: Maybe later, right now we have a city to save.

Ash: This is going to be... Groovy.

Doom-Guy: (Grunts)

The sound of four separate chainsaws roaring to life, causes the girls to step back, and with wide eyes, brimming with fear and horror they watch as the quartet of chainsaw wielders charges the horde...

Jaune: Hit the music!

Girls: Music?

Doom-Guy: (grunts as he touched a button on the inside of his forearm)

Ruby: I think I'm going to be sick.

As the slaughter raged on, the quintet of girls all had the same thought. Jaune was going to need a shower before any of them tried to kiss him again.

(SO SORRY, but I couldn't resist this idea when it popped into my head! But on a side note, "Somewhere in Vale..." is now cannon for this AU. Hope you enjoyed.)

[companion-showdown]

Showdown 2k25 - Submit Propaganda

Just like last year I want to kick January off with a flat popularity contest, showdown 2k25. (<- I wrote that in December before my laptop packed up, it'll now be after whenever I manage to get my laptop fixed)

Automatically competing - everyone from last year (list), with the following exceptions

Last years winner - Donna Noble

Possibly Rose Tyler as the 2023 winner, but I need to think on it a bit more

I'm going to reassess a few from last year, but it will be a tiny number

Rules for new nominees (tardis wiki list referenced below)

Anyone on the list will automatically be accepted

TV companions MUST be on the list

EU companions not on the list will be considered on a case by case basis. If they meet a reasonable definition of companion I will accept them, basic guideline is has their own tardis wiki article so I can actually check, multiple stories with the Doctor, none of these guidelines are hard rules, if you can justify them to me (and I can follow the argument), I'll let them in

Propaganda is not carrying over from last year, if you want to go to bat for someone, use this same form - (There isn't a lot at the moment so more would be appreciated, you can check the list under the cut for who hasn't got any if you want, but multiple sets for one character is good)

You can use this form to make multiple nominations/give multiple bits of propaganda at once.

I don not currently have an end date when nominations will close

list of (162) competitors, anyone in green has propaganda submitted for them (26)

Classic Who

Barbara Wright

Ian Chesterton

Susan Foreman

Vicki Pallister

Steven Taylor

Katarina

Sara Kingdom

Dodo Chaplet

Ben Jackson

Polly Wright

Jamie McCrimmon (propaganda x2)

Victoria Waterfield

Zoe Heriot

The Brigadier

Sergeant Benton

Liz Shaw

Mike Yates

Jo Grant

Sarah Jane Smith

Harry Sullivan

Leela

K9

Romana I

Romana II

Adric

Nyssa

Tegan Jovanka

Kamelion

Vislor Turlough (x2)

Peri Brown

Sabalom Glitz

Mel Bush

Ace McShane

Chang Lee

Grace Holloway

NuWho

Mickey Smith

Adam Mitchell

Jack Harkness

Martha Jones

Wilfred Mott

River Song

Amy Pond

Rory Williams

Canton Everette Delaware III

Kate Stewart

Clara Oswald

Handles

Missy

Nardole

Grant Gordon

Bill Potts

Graham O'Brien

Ryan Sinclair

Yasmin Khan

Dan Lewis

Karvanista

Inston-Vee Vinder

Rose Noble

Ruby Sunday

Audio

Oliver Harper

Erimem

Iris Wildthyme

Evelyn Smythe

Hex Schofield

Mags

Alex Campbell

Bliss

C'rizz

Cass Fermazzi

Charley Pollard

Helen Sinclair

Liv Chenka

Lucie Miller

Molly O'Sullivan

Narvin

Sheena (The Starship of Theseus)

Tania Bell

Anya Kingdom

Mark Seven

Novels

The Mortimer Family

Serena

Milena

Business Woman (Time on a Vine)

Bernice Summerfield

Cat Broome

Chris Cwej

Roz Forrester

Wolsey the Cat

Anji Kapoor

Claudia Marwood

Compassion

Fitz Kreiner

Hector (All Flesh is Grass)

Marie (Alien Bodies)

Sam Jones

Trix MacMillan

Ikalla

Rosie Taylor

Jack McSpringheel

Peter Summerfield

Ruth Leonidas

Dorothy (The Wonderful Doctor of Oz)

Sibling Different

Cinder

Anna (Good Companions

Badger

Barusa

Guinevere Winchester

Irving Braxiatel

Larna

Patience

Penelope Gate

Zeleekhà

Comics

Duh

Gillian & John Who

Dave Lester

Sharon Davies

Gus Goodman

Maxwell Edison

Shayde

Frobisher

Ly-Chee the Wise

Olla

Chantir

Destrii

Fey Truscott-Sade

Izzy Sinclair

Kroton

Ssard

Josie Day

Cindy Wu

Gabby Gonzalez

Grayla

Jayne Kadett

Majenta Pryce

Rose-the-Cat

Alice Obiefune

Abslom Daak, Dalek Killer

John Jones

ARC

Hattie Munroe

Weeping Angel (Origins)

Child Master (The Then and the Now)

The Squire

Real Life

Alan Turing

Claudia Winkleman

John Lennon

Jules Verne

Mary Shelley

Peter Cushing

Other

Alison Cheney

Shalka!Master

Andy Davidson

Antimony (Death Comes to Time)

Brian the Ood

Dormouse (The Red and the Blue)

Emma (curse of fatal death)

Koschie

Romana (Battle for the Universe)

Splinx

Susan Who

Tom Campbell