#could he be another powerful and evil one? yes

[medi-melancholy]

meanwhile, a month ago, when i was blissfully unaware of what awaited me at the end of ARR--i started to get Really Mad at CT (and started ✨coils✨)

you're going to what. why. where did this come from

:( what about your own wishes?? what do you really genuinely want to do? what about your own individual dreams and goals and purpose you want to look for? yes you're the one living person available with allagan blood and yes doga and unei entrusted more power to you but like, you didn't sign up for any of this, you just wanted some explanation behind why your family has had the eye of allag and you wanted to explore the tower and all that, i just. wehhhhh

says who???? why does it have to be? we just lost our new friends doga and unei, and now we're gonna lose you too? that sucks, man!

maybe i don't want it to be! because this sucks! why are just letting him do this! without taking any time to possible consider alternatives or look for other solutions!!!!

man ok i don't even really care about the cat but i personally do not like how this whole story chunk was handled. it's unsatisfying when characters just end up slaves to fate or destiny stuff beyond their control and they're just chill with it or they willingly subject themselves to it and everyone around them is like yeah sure go ahead this is fine

save me, nero's tom-holland-frog-in-mouth face.... make me laugh

:/ thanks. it was. something

but NOW. we experience peak*

*unsynched peak

forever awwww'ing at how tiny the twins are.... they're baby

also i'm proud of my stubborn daughter for knowing when it's time to ask for some help!

anjyu is very actions over words, this is true

for the first half of coils, i called in pixel to carry me ♥️

ah yes. me, alisaie, the ruins of dalamud, and this random rabbit in a raincoat from another world who's been obliterating everything in sight for us

[flashbacks to the 2.0 fetch quest chain] Yes.

ooohhh ok. so that's why the not-moon hatched like an egg and bahamut came out, because he was captive in there the whole time. i am getting my questions answered!

i am also getting my ears answers'ed

us.... and also willow is here

anjyu, perpetually confused, and willow doing a jerma, in the same sparkly purple void

god don't jinx it. but yeah that's the unsynched carry mood LMAO

........uh. hold on

UH. ARE WE LIKE. SAFE HERE???

are any of these places safe?????? because this hall looks evil as fuck

great googly fucking moogly he's just right there

PEEPAW SIGHTING WAS REAL

COILS HAUNTED??????

ohhh... daughter.... 🥺

i... don't know if that's the case, though! but i'd hate to crush her dreams. i seriously think that's just like. an afterimage of some kind. because how in the hell could he still be alive

i would die for you. you are the bestest

[thecorefrisk]

YES.

Sure, the concept of Deku as a villain is cool! But only if you change everything about his character or have him be irrevocably changed by an experience. And even then, he has been shown to push past adversity and still want to be a hero despite it or even because of it. If it was an AU in which the author explores a world where Deku was a villain (not an antihero but an actual villain), they would first have to acknowledge that… he would never. Villainy isn’t in him. He would be, at worst, an anti-hero (a hero that pursues a noble goal through immoral means) and again in a worst case scenario he’d have just been forced to give on his dream and work a corporate job or even a teaching job as he seems to pursue that when he loses his powers.

People see these sensitive, kind people and they just want to… break them for some reason. (Not even in a sexual sense which I could logically understand because people are freaks.) They’re the kind of people the Joker tells scary stories about as he’s killing kids— like, ‘They’ll want to break you, reshape you, remold you. And then they’ll say they did some good by doing it.’

You can have so much angst with a character that refuses to give up. Because I’m someone who refuses to give up, but I’ve also given up on a lot of things! Imagine the opportunities, the people, the nights that turn into days that a hero has to give up just to be a hero. Being a hero isn’t what it’s cut out to be because you can’t exactly manage those two lives unless you have a team by your side. And they don’t tend to.

Also the possibility of the death of you or a loved one is so high from the moment you step into the field no matter the universe. Because sometimes a villain is just that obsessed with you. Sometimes they do just hate you that much.

I just think it’s so much more interesting to place a morally white character in a morally grey or even morally black world. That’s so much more interesting to me because now they have to battle to keep their goodness or someone else’s.

I find it so much more impressive to see someone stand up to protect a complete stranger with their life, to see someone to look a cruel person in the eye and be kind, to see someone answer the call even after all the horrible things that has happened to them than to have them be some random super powered (or even power-less) loser who after all the good they were raised around, all the morals instilled in them, they decided to go ‘Nah’ and kill a bunch of kids off.

It’s just so stupid that blood thirst is such a praised thing nowadays. What is so impressive about yet another man killing off nameless civilians for either the sake of it or to ‘make a point’? Just doesn’t make sense to me. I can understand them. To a point. I mean, it’s super hard to live up to these guys who would do anything for their friends and go through all these traumatic experiences for people that they don’t even know. But that doesn’t mean erase those characters entirely.

They keep looking to the wrong characters for a blood bath and by doing that they also encourage this narrative of ‘all men are violent’ or even encourage these men to do violent things because kids grow up with these things! And your mind is trained to believe whatever your eyes see— even if you know that it is not true. Like how doing affirmations in the mirror works wonders for some people or even how some people some forms of media and then essentially that piece of media affects how they view the world. What we see impacts how we think.

Just. It’s boring. It’s overdone. Evil wins? We literally have enough of that. Tragedy and misery are not the complex experiences these people think they are because tragedy and misery are universal experiences. Kindness, on the other hand, is something to latch onto. Goodness is something you choose to do and it comes more naturally to some than it does to others but that is an understood thing.

However, with the rise of these emotionless, violent characters in the place of noble heroes, we also see a diminishing of what it means to be gentle, kind, and even just plain polite. The concept of good is a complex thought in of itself because we decide what good is. Is good killing off that villain because there is a possibility of them still being a threat and hurting even more people or is it in sparing them? (I personally believe ummm, kill them off and you’ll save yourself the trouble! Why? Just because people have the ability to change it doesn’t mean they are going to change. And if they do it might not be for the better.)

(Thank you btw. For your thing at the end.)

I hate that whenever we have a story about kindness and the trials and tribulations of trying to be a good person and how hard it is to be good people always come out of the woodwork with something like, “But what if they were evil?”

Like, no. We don’t need the same exact emotionless Superman. He represents hope and love. If you want grit and gore, go to Gotham.

And no, Deku does not need to be ‘meaner’ nor would he ever be a villain in any sort of way. He is just that kind of person. (Villain Deku AUs are always so unrealistic to me because even in world where he got saved by villains, he’d never hurt nor want to hurt people. At worst, he’d work the same old boring 9 to 5 most of America is working right now.) (It always pisses me off whenever people say they would’ve preferred the prototype version of Deku because no they would have not. They want a fanfic— not an entire work like that. If we had gotten the prototype, people would likely be saying the same thing about the Deku that we have right now.)

There are so many heroes you guys turn into villains just because you want ‘something different’. Different doesn’t mean interesting. Different doesn’t always mean good. I can agree that seeing the same thing over and over again gets tiring. I cannot agree that we should change the core values of any thing or any character for the sake of seeing ‘something original’, ‘something different’.

I can agree with putting a twist on that character. That can be interesting. It can even be beneficial to the character’s development.

But you guys hate whimsy and fun and goodness so much that you see it as something to be purged. You want it gone from every wonderful character. Sometimes characters, sometimes people, are just that good. And there’s nothing you can fucking do about it.

[nicoriice]

THE DUDE

[lyledebeast]

After seeing Sinners (2025) last night, I'm having a lot of thoughts about Remmick's accent. I knew he was Irish going in, and I kept expecting the facade of his Southern accent to be cast aside as a ruse and replaced with his real one. But it never is. The only time his Irish brogue really comes out is during his performance of "The Rocky Road to Dublin." And I've realized that choice serves as shorthand for Remmick's transformation from the oppressed into the oppressor.

"The Rocky Road to Dublin" is a 19th C folk song about the discrimination Irish people faced, which makes it a deeply ironic choice for Remmick to sing while surrounded and accompanied by a racially diverse crowd of Americans he's forcibly converted to vampirism. He's a Irishman, yes, but he's also a white man in the Jim Crow South, and his accent reflects who he is now. His literal feeding on Black and Chinese people is another part of his assimilation.

All the kudos to Ryan Coogler for giving cultural nuance and complexity to all his characters, including the villain. He could have just made Remmick an Evil, Racist, White Southerner (and this film has several of those!), but instead he recognizes that all the peoples of the American South came from somewhere, that we all have a heritage that lives on in us but does not absolve us of the choices we make.

In short, Coogler is not coming for the Irish in his representation of Remmick. He recognizes the history of oppression that led to so many Irish immigrating to America. But he is commenting on the way Irish-Americans historically bought a seat for themselves at the table of American power through exploitation of other races, notably Black people.

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Clone Danny Fenton amuses me so here's another dumb crossover idea: Danny is one of the "failed" clones of Kon that Tim tried to make, but clockwork snatched his lifeless baby corpse before Tim could dispose of it (Tim just assumed he did when it disappeared, writing it off as he did it while too sleep deprived to remember clearly or something) and CW uses the pit to revive it before dropping him off with the Fentons in a completely different dimension.

Danny knows he's adopted and realizes he's not normal fairly early on, but doesn't manifest the more noticeable of his powers til after his accident, so he blames it all on his halfa status and not the alien heritage he has no way of knowing about. Once shit hits the fan and his dimension is no longer safe for him to live in, CW sits him down and explains both his alien (in more ways than one) and clone statuses. CW then offers Danny the chance to meet his maker and template, which Danny agrees to because why not? He's got nothing to lose. Danny's injured 16 y/o ass is then dropped a short distance from a timberkon (who are now in their early 30s because that'd how time works) date/hangout and Danny just plops himself at their table and steals some of Tim and Kon's food before literally any words are exchanged.

Kon, freaking out because this kid looks like him???: Uhhhh??? Kid??

Tim, bewildered: Who?? What?? Kid, wtf??? Do we know you??

Danny, swallowing his mouthful of stolen food: Yes and no.

Danny, points lazily at Tim: Creator.

Danny, equally lazy point to Kon: Template.

Danny, blinking slowly at Bernard: I don't think you had anything to do with HOW I'm here, but as you clearly are part of this now, surprise, it's a scientific freak of nature.

Danny, ignoring the devastated looks on his "parents'" faces and steals more food while continuing: He/him pronouns and I go by Danny. AND ONLY Danny, not Daniel, not Danno, and certainly not Dan.

Tim, slowly takes a deep breath and slides most of his meal towards the clearly starving child: Danny... You're NOT a freak, kiddo

Danny, seems to beam without changing his expression when he's got the food in his hands before processing how his comment must have sounded without context: Oh-ho! But I am! Finding out I was a half human alien clone was just the icing on the cake, really! I had an accident that I'm pretty sure destroyed all my flimsy human dna. I'm now half something else, that hilariously has a lot of crossover powers so I just assumed my accident gave me all of them before the dude that cradle robbed my dead baby corpse from the evil mastermind lab my creator.. has? Had? Meh. Who cares. But baby me was very dead and then he did something and I wasn't. This is where I inform you I grew up in a different dimension and know jack shit about this one.

Bernard: Okay, I have so many questions

Kon: Me too! What's your other half? What's your dimension like? Why did you seek us out now? What's your favourite colour? Any food restrictions? Do you have a place to stay? Why is your heart rate so slow? What's that buzzing sound coming from your chest? What-

Tim: KON! Let the kid actually tell you answers!

Bernard, sliding some of his food over to Danny while eyeing the subtily stiff way Danny is moving: Plus, the more pressing question is, how hurt are you, Danny?

Kon: You're HURT???

Danny, frowns at Bernard ratting him out before turning his attention back to the food in front of him: I got vivisected, it's fine, it's healing

The adults all suck in a sharp breath before sharing a look. They agree this is their kid now and people can take him from them over their cold dead bodies.

Danny feels 3 shiny new parental bonds snap into place, startling the shit out of him. He didn't think they'd want him tbh, AND he didn't think they'd have enough ectoplasum to even do a claiming like that. He nearly starts crying, BECAUSE THESE PEOPLE WANT HIM.

Tim, concerned: Danny? What's wrong?

Danny, blinking wetly: You're liminals?

Bernard: "Liminals"?

Danny: Human with ectoplasum in their system. I just.. you want me?

Kon, sacrificing what's left of his food to Danny: I don't know what that means. AND of course we want you. You're family now.

Tim, nodding: There's no escape.

The adults all giggles, thinking of different situations with supers or bats or both. It only lasts a second because Danny bursts into tears, just completely overwhelmed by the situation. The adults instinctively get closer, but don't touch, unsure if it would help or worsen Danny's state.

Tim: Danny?

Kon: Would you like a hug-oof!

Danny dives into Kon's side and desperately clings to him with enough force to break a human's ribs. Tim and Bernard crowd closer and rub his back in soothing motions.

Bernard: What's wrong, kiddo?

Danny: Dani should have been here too!

Tim: Danny? I thought your name was Dani?

Danny: She was Dani with one n and an I. I'm Danny with two n's and a y. She- She was my clone, but...

Bernard: You don't have to tell us

Danny: ...She wasn't super stable. I'd help her restabilize every time she started to destabilize, but... but I got caught! She came for help and got caught too! I watched her melt in that shitty lab! There was so much- I wanted- SHE'S GONE!

The adults are devastated. Kon squeezes Danny tightly.

Kon, softly: tell us about her?

And so Danny does. Explaining how she came to be, their first interactions, her strong and independent personality, the little souvenirs she brought him while she traveled to figure herself out, how her condition always worried him, but she wouldn't-couldn't stay with him, and how he wanted to talk about finding her a new name because she deserved to have her own name, not something that reminds her she's a defective clone, but he never got the chance. He has a messy breakdown while explaining her final moments and how his bindings, power suppression cuffs chained to the floor and a muzzle, prevented him from giving her comfort and how SHE apologized to HIM. He thought he was going to die with her in that moment, his core cracking at her loss.

This leads to a short explanation of his ghost biology and how dangerous a cracked core is. And by then, he's flagging, so the adults start persuading the kid to crash in their guest room, with the promise of dinner.

Thus begins the process of timberkon convincing Danny to stay with them. Teaching the kid about his original dimension and the many heroes. They get him so MANY books about space and alien civilizations once they find out his obsession (literally) with that kind of thing. Danny still misses his sisters and friends like an amputated arm, but he slowly rebuilds, letting himself gain a new family and new friends.

His introduction to both the Bats and Supers could have gone better.

He's suspicious and wary of Clark the whole time he was meeting the Kents because of how Clark has treated his own clones in the past. Danny doesn't understand him, and Clark doesn't truly understand, but is more sad than anything about it and accepts he made his bed, now he must lay in it. He warms up to the rest fairly quickly. He's also introduced to Bizarro and Clara eventually and that goes well.

With the Bats, Danny, Bruce, and Dick verbally pace around each other. Bruce deep throating his foot, and Dick not being much better while trying to keep the peace. The rest watch on with amusement before the show is a cut short by Damian of all people intervening. The problem is Damian snuck up behind (unintentionally), grabbed his shoulder while calling Danny "Daniel" (something he was informed to NOT do), and Danny's brain went "VLAD FOUND ME??" (despite there being no way, CW will not let him find Danny) and reacts with violence. Damian barely escaped having any broken bones, that being said, where Danny grabbed to literally throw Damian has DEEP bruising, that arm was dislocated, he has more bruising from hitting the floor, and gained a concussion. Danny apologizing profusely while scolding this 28 y/o man about sneaking up on him AND using a name he specifically told everyone NOT to use. Damian is man enough to apologize while Alfred patches him up. Meeting Duke and Cass is nice, he's unsure about Steph (because how rambunctious she is) and Alfred, Barbara makes him homesick for Jazz, and Jason is funny til he gets a heart attack in the form of Danny offering to eat the corrupt ectoplasum (Lazarus waters) out of him. There's chaos after that, but it eventually calms down, especially since timberkon are protective of their baby and Tim looks like he's about to go super villain on them the moment "tests" are brought up. Danny is embarrassed and pleased as his Creator (he never stops jokingly calling Tim that, Kon gets Template, and Bernard is Human, when they aren't just called their name. Eventually he calls them all dad, though Bernard is sometimes called mom) threatens to ruin their everything if they continue. Threats they take seriously because they know Tim will follow through. After that it goes well.

[cherllyio]

How Macaque died (Season 5 spoilers)

@rika1991tr tagged me, and asked what it tells us about Macaque's death/ him and Wukong's fight.

So- this is for you :D

and...

*cracks knunckles*

OH BOY

To get to the bottom of this, we have to understand one thing:

Wukong and Macaque never stopped caring for eachother. Beheind all that hate in the first three seasons, they still cared for eachother (none of them dares to show it though)

Just look at how Macaque reaches out for Wukong- (godamnit)

So... what was that "something" Wukong was going to do, that he was warning Macaque about?

Well... Wukong was going to do THIS to Macaque:

Because as my dear friend @lu-zijing (they talked about it here) mentioned to me, there is chains here in Macaque death scene:

And not only that, thoughs chains look A LOT like the chains Tripitaka and Wukong put on LBD:

SO IN OTHER WORDS:

MK AND WUKONGS FIGHT ARE A PARALELL TO MACAQUE AND WUKONG'S FIGHT.

AND ALSO THIS LINE?

Nine headed demon: How did you know that spell? Who did you make a deal with?

Macaque: What deal?

So clearly Macaque has a power, tha he got from someone else, that he CANT control.

And what do we see here in this scene?

The chains broken (again thanks to Lu-Zijing for mentioning that to me), but the shadowpowers OUT OF CONTROL.

In other words: I higely doubt Wukong acutally killed Macaque.

Yes, they got into a fight, but Wukong just wanted to trap Macaque in chains, so he could talk him out of this fight (instead of fighting who used to be his closest compainion).

But... something went wrong. Because right after that line we saw this:

Meaning that Wukong (acdently), destroyed Macaques eye, causing Macaque to PANIC, resulting in Macaque over-using his shadowpowers and then...

...

And one last thing, I would like to point out-

In that same scene Macaque was laughing, and an pretty evil laugh at that.

Almost like... his shadow powers had "taken over".

So lets do the math, yea?

Super unstable shadowpowers + super unstable monkey + the only friend he has ever had "leaving" him =

Ha ha- not to mention Wukong isnt even wearing a circlet here, meaning it didnt even take place in JTTW-!! but thats another can of worms, I will talk about another day-

(lol, did you know I acutally somehow foresaw this in a fanfic-)

[wonderjanga]

idea: billy keeping Important League Stuff in miss bambis apartment for safekeeping cuz the rock of eternity has WAY too much evil stuff, and now all the magic users think that miss bambis magic-catwoman

Miss Bambi: “Billy, whats that?”

Billy: “Space cancer in a bottle!”

Miss Bambi: “Oh… I see.” *takes a drag of her cigarette* “Well, put it with the others.”

Billy: “Thanks, Miss Bambi!” *runs in and puts it with the other bottles full of space cancer*

William Joseph Batson is the World’s Mightiest Mortal. He’s also a 12-year-old boy who doesn’t have many adults in his life that he trusts. That’s why he leaves highly dangerous mission stuff with Miss Bambi. Because he trusts her. Also because he doesn’t think he should have a bunch of dangerous stuff in the Rock. Some of it should be in other places.

Anyways, other magicians who visit Fawcett all get concerned whenever they pass by a shitty apartment complex that has a bunch of evil and negative magic radiating from it. Specifically a single apartment.

This is the apartment complex I told you about.

Marvel: *staring at the building, thinking they know* “I see… and why are we here?”

Random Magician: “Wha- because there’s a bunch of evil magic practically oozing from it!”

Marvel: “And?”

Random Magician: “And what! That person could be extremely dangerous!”

Marvel: “I assure you, they’re not.”

Random Magician: “Yes they are! Magic can only become this bad through numerous evil rituals and sacrifices and spells!”

Marvel: “Look, just trust me, okay? It’s nothing.”

That magician did in fact, not trust him, and instead went to go check out the location of the source of the evil magic.

Random Magician: “Who’re you??”

Miss Bambi: “You can call me Bambi.” *looks them up and down judgmentally* “Are you one of Billy’s friends?”

Random Magician: *doesn’t know Billy is Cap* “No?”

Miss Bambi: “Oh.” *slams the door in their face*

The magic user eventually tried to suddenly ask about her and this Billy character.

Marvel: “That’s uh… My name?”

The magic user proceeded to go and tell everyone they knew because what the heck? This random, potentially very evil lady knows the champions real name? Also, the Champion’s name is Billy??

That’s how the “Oh, she must be magical Catwoman” thing cropped up.

From then on, they all had utmost respect for her cause the Champion is insanely powerful, so by stealing from the Rock of Eternity of all places that means she has to be pretty powerful herself. There’s also the fact that they can sense almost no magic from her so clearly she must be at least skilled to hide it that well.

Every single wizard that is evil is trying to curry to her favor.

Evil Magician: *looking extremely suspicious* “Mistress Bambi-”

Miss Bambi: “I told you weirdos not to call me that.”

Evil Magician: “-I have come to tell you about a special artifact that I think will interest you. It’s the eye of the Bermuda Triangle.”

Miss Bambi: *smoking, looking at them like they’re an idiot* “Yeah… Thanks…”

Evil Magician: “Your welcome, mistress-”

Miss Bambi: “Again, told you not to call me that.”

Later…

Miss Bambi: *chilling outside the apartment complex*

Billy: *jogging over so he can go inside

Miss Bambi: “Hey, Billy!”

Billy: “Yes, Miss Bambi?”

Miss Bambi: “Another one of those creeps came around and told me about some Eye of the Bermuda Triangle?”

“Another evil artifact? Dang. Well, I’ll hop to it! Thanks, Miss Bambi!”

See, the unfortunate thing is that an evil magician would tell Bambi about an evil artifact, and then Billy would go search for it and then give it to her for safekeeping. So they’d think she stole it, which would continue to feed the magical Catwoman rumors.

By the way, all the artifacts besides the ones that sound explicitly dangerous like the space cancer and a bottle, or just scattered about her apartment. Like, she has multiple evil pendants hanging from her ceiling fan because they look pretty and add to the ambience. She has an evil magic tome under one of the legs of her coffee table, so it keeps balance. She does not care.

Also, John Constantine eventually met her, and they vibe.

[hexhomos]

little random but i really appreciate your dissections and analysis of Mel mainly bc the fandom either adore her and won't admit she is a flawed character and get over defensive when you call her out, or straight up hate her and make her out to be completely evil.

Mel is written as morally grey for a reason and when ppl try to act like she was morally correct in everything she did, it goes against the whole plot. yes, she regrets most of her actions by the end of the series and is left to deal with her family's leagacy and the weight of her actions, but that doesn't undo anything she did. and her eventually starting to care about Jayce doesn't just cancel out that she manipulated him (you'd think this would be obvious)

what bothers me the most i think is meljay shippers who say Jayce mistreated her and that Mel only ever helped and care about him and aided him in rising to power politically, and how she was so understanding of Jayce's and Viktor's friendship. yes, encouraging methods of political corruption in order to gain more power is so caring and kind of her! ❤️

Mel might've told Jayce to go spend time with Viktor after finding out he was ill, but the one time in the show she interacted with Viktor was... prejudiced to say the least. she never directly spoke to or answered Viktor, and the expression on her face any time she looked over at Viktor was so clearly full of dislike. it shocks me ppl still believe Mel and Viktor could get along and respect one another, especially romantically. no way.

anyways, sorry for the rant. just tired of how many bad takes there are in this fandom and very fond of your account lol

you are right and you SHOULD say it re: that oft repeated argument about her "only wanting what's best for him" bothers me so much. Its just... weirdly patronizing and spousing pro-piltover nationalism every time i see it being brought up. "She's doing what anyone would do/what is best for the city!" IDK MAN I AM NOT ROCKING WITH THAT. Im not an ubercapitalist. I don't think any of that was the good option actually lol. Probably I hate piltover too much to humor these arguments but from day 1 we are shown this is a city of immense class inequality in which the elite few holds all the power and all the profit gains at the cost of everyone else's submission and humanity. (Not for nothing: these are also the classic old guard Noxian tenets of supremacy. That's how they do colonization.)

The interactions Mel has with Jayce for majority of the series, before she watches that bomb come in and has her rapid onset change of heart, are her talking about how investors want his work and how she can use his discovery to advance this city (which is already built on exploitation!) or instigating his rise to power as a new ringleader for the council's rigged mercantile operations, and this is just not good or heroic in any way to me. This isn't love either, it's industrial convenience. The fact that she's conflicted by the end doesn't cancel these actions out! Jayce realizes that he's been used in ways he strongly disagrees with and any the affection in that dynamic vanishes instantly. The time he spends in isolation replaying his mistakes in that cave has an emphasis on mel/heimerdinger's voice on the council too, all of his regrets with blindly following someone else's vision or disappointing an idol he held in high regards.

And Jayce DOES care about the state of the cities, or he did before the writers forgot: He's the one who pleads for Zaun's independence at the end of season 1! He's the one who spent all his life trying to work towards improving the lives of common people, giving them the miracles they've been denied!

Viktor is a fucking nobody. He is extremely worthless in the eyes of the piltovan upper crust, only kept around on the merits working with Jayce have afforded him; and they still don't care. They're probably hoping he dies quicker. We *SEE* him being singled out and alienated during that weapons discussion where Mel is pleading for Jayce to think about "protecting his people" (only piltovans, never, ever zaunites- protecting piltovans against the zaunite menace.) and Viktor is set off at that whole exchange because it doesn't matter how loud he screams, these people can just tune him off and pretend he doesn't exist anyway. It's what they're used to doing. It drives me insane!!!!! His indignation is extremely under-explored and very inline with his act1 speech of feeling like an undesirable presence in piltover and having to push through with the grit of his teeth. It's open faced classism and I still see people pretending it didn't happen. Fandom makes all of these characters FAR less interesting by defanging them. The heart is in the friction and in the ugliness of them fucking up because they have very, very different conceptions of "utopia" - and some of those utopias require the death of the other characters present.

A lot of the Arcane character arcs have to do with realizing the above, and weighing if the sacrifice is worth the risk. Sometimes it turns out their utopias were shit.

[dragongirlpoet]

Dark Signs 2

Pt I I Pt III I Pt IV

Alucard x you

Synopsis: You asked Alucard for a favour. Now you have to be careful what you wished for. "To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster" - Vampire Hunter D

TW: Dark fantasy, horror & gore elements, blood, SMUT (Alucard is feral in this one) Explicit 🔞 I Words: 3.5k

Also to @skychaser777 hope you can sleep after this 😉

The hollow stone walls echoed my shaky breaths, caving them in, the thumping of my heart violent in my ears. My skin was pricked with goosebumps, foreboding dire dwellings. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Absurd question, considering everything was inherently far from right. 

There had only been one instance where I felt unsafe with Adrian. 

Located in the underbelly of Wallachia was a forgotten catacomb, a labyrinth where the dead and undead alike convened. I had been extracting bile from slaughtered night creatures, told to render powerful salves when mixed with mint, myrrh and…other herbs. 

Body sticky with sweat and hands grimy from reaching into revolting guts, I was almost to my fifth vial when a guttural growl stopped me dead in my tracks. 

From the marrows of a tunnel, a numbing cold, laced with strangled gnawing, reverberated through the passageways.

Every fibre of my being told me to run, alas I had all but the impudence of a child. Unsheathing my iron dagger, ensorcelled to wound even the most vile, I treaded warily towards my impending doom.  

The sight that awaited me was sickening. Crouched over bodies upon bodies of night creatures was a pallid, mangled man? His face was buried in their carcasses, marring at their flesh, lapping at their blood. 

Before I could take another breath, the man turned, face smeared with ravaged viscera and foul, curdled blood. He had hair like the purest wisps of wheat and eyes like dark, desecrated graves. 

I choked back a gasp.

“You foolish, foolish girl. You are not prepared for the evil that lurks here, feeds here..” his bellow was deafening, diabolical. Blood spilled from his fangs, splaying his torso tainted with innards and rotten flesh.

“Wh..who are…you?” I paced backwards as he stalked towards me.

“You don’t know who I am? Most fascinating…” he offered a smile so sinister, as if he had stumbled upon the most naive of fools he was soon to devour.

“I am the sun…rain…the darkness. I am sin made flesh and I am whom you should most fear. I am Alucard, son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.”

A loud “smash” rattled through the room as I retreated into our wooden dresser, knocking over a prized hourglass Alucard so often used to practise his script. The pair of glowering molten eyes trailed me — never blinking, burning caverns into my soul. 

I shifted my gaze downwards to avoid stepping into glass, but that was regrettably the least of my worries. Lifting my stare, those eyes were gone — quick as spectres passing through dimensions. 

Our chamber fell into a boundless black, and my human sight could not adjust acutely enough to the darkness. I flailed my arms about willing to grasp onto anything that could give me some bearing. Anxiety crept through me like poison ivy ensnaring a forsaken home. 

“Adrian? Stop this please! This isn’t funny.” The volatile rhythm of my heart suddenly became too loud, too unbearable. 

No amount of breaths could repress my violent trembling. A faint flicker from the corner caught my eye — Alucard’s heirloom sword. If his magical estoc was there…he is still in the room with me. 

The hairs on my arms shot up, little by little.

Out of nowhere, forceful, ice cold hands prised around my throat, yanking me out of my state of terror. From behind, Alucard, voice grave like a thousand infernal souls, growled into my ear, 

“Do you understand the gravity of what you’re asking?”

Whether it was fear or the vice-like grip around my neck, I couldn’t speak.

“Answer me.” 

He clamped tighter.

”Ye…yesss,” I wasn’t telling a lie. 

“Then let’s finish what we started, shall we?”

One minute I was in Alucard’s death grip, the next I was shoved, hard, into the stone wall, my face chafing against the abrasive mortar. I winced at the pain.

“You’re hurting me, Adrian!” 

Behind, he tightened his grip on my wrists, binding them into the small of my back. 

“Am I? Ohh…but you like danger, don’t you?...His other hand reached down to unfasten his pants, his erect cock sliding out… “You are drawn to the darkness, just as I am.” 

He trailed the words up and down my neck, pausing ever so subtly to savour the scent of blood in my veins. 

A small bead of sweat started trickling down my face…no, no, it was blood — from my collision with the wall.

Alucard went eerily still again. I felt a shift in his countenance, like a malevolent cloud obliterating sunshine. 

He was hungry.

With one knee, he forced my legs apart and hauled my nightdress up, my backside fully exposed. I could feel the tip of his length against my rear — throbbing, impatient. He snaked his hands all over my naked body, grabbing at my breasts, digging into my thighs. 

The scent of my blood set his every carnal need aflame. 

Adrian had always been prudent — he would excuse himself at the slightest scent of my exposed blood, isolating himself in the castle dungeons for hours, as if he deserved it. Deserved to be punished for his beastly urges, deserved to be condemned for being born a monster. 

Every blood-month I had would send him away for days — “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve seen what I become when I feed… I’ll just be hunting, it’d be just a few days, and your cycle would end when I’m back,” he would say with a smile. A sad smile.

And I was utterly tired and heartbroken that my Adrian, so kind and full of love, would admonish himself, rip his spirit to shreds, for a fate that had been unfairly handed to him. I was going to end this, tonight.

Alucard nuzzled his face into my hair, taking in all my smells, heaving. His body was unyielding against mine — elegant marble against bewitching velvet. I could hear his vampiric heartbeat ringing in his ears, drowning out all sense of reason. He was an animal in heat. 

“You know I cannot control myself around you. And you know what your blood does to me… Do you know how long I haven’t fed?” 

His writhing cock was brandishing my cunt, starving for my hole.

“Do you know I think about what it’s like to have your blood in my veins? How much I want it, need it, desire it. 

How much I want my blood in you. And you ask this of me, tonight, when I’m sitting at the precipice of hunger and lust…”

There was a sharp intake of breath. 

“Hmmm you don’t know what’s coming for you. Once I do this there’s no turning back. 

Do you know how long I’ve been holding out for you? To be better for you. And now you ask this of me…”

At that he yanked at my hair, forcing my head to fall back. The red trace on my cheeks bowed complete to his mercy. 

Staring defiantly into his eyes, I said, “Do it, Adrian. I want you to.” 

Danger, danger.

A devious smile tugged at his lips. Alucard skimmed my neck with his mouth, bruising it with reckless kisses and parlous nips. He moved precariously to suck at the aquamarine veins running down my breasts, licking slow circles about my nipples. He was a wolf dallying with his food. 

A true vampire, hedonistic even in the slightest of pursuits, moving inevitably to the blood trail. He had waited so long for this. 

Alucard pushed his lips delicately into my face, afraid of spilling even the smallest of drops. My blood was a sacred river, a bath of worship he would praise forever. Shaking, he ravened the scarlet off my face, sucking at the open cut, willing for more. 

He was a mixture of muffled moans and enthralled ecstacy.

It was exhaultant. I adored being able to give Adrian what he most craved. 

Drinking in more than necessary, the whites of his eyes were no longer — entire sockets now overtaken with crepuscular crypts darker than the blood moon that hung outside.

Alucard’s cock twitched beneath me, length growing harder and bigger by the second. Grunting, he pumped his sex and slid it against my pussy. I was light-headed with anticipation, but he had merely fondled my folds, prodding at my entrance, testing to see how wet I was.

Perhaps he had been right. Perhaps a dissolute part of me yearned for the darkness, but what I’d wanted most of all was to know that I had years, centuries — immortality, to be with Adrian. 

Head over my shoulder with eyes like lacquered obsidians, he interlaced his fingers with mine, bringing them down to press at my clit. Flagging off from my most sensitive spot, he traced them up my body, slowly, torturously. 

“I wonder…” fingers caressing my abdomen… “how far up…” I gasped as he adjusted them higher… “my cock will go when I’m deep inside you…” Alas settling on a spot above my navel.

A sacred river spawned between my legs. 

Incapable of restraint any longer, I reached back to stroke his shaft, thumb stimulating his tip until his pre-load creamed my fingers. I lathered his fluids, relishing in the feel of his hallowed flesh tethered to my hands. 

“Fuuuck.” Alucard bristled against my touch, face buried in my neck. Below, he was thrusting at my entrance, not yet entering, readying me for his carnal devotion. 

”Adrian please, I need you. I want you inside…”  

His last thread of resolve snapped. He rammed his boner into me from behind, stretching me, engulfing me. My tender walls were a haven to his brutal thrusts, welcoming him in. Cock barely to his hilt, he spread my bottocks apart, plunging his engorged member in. 

“Ahh…ahh…” I whimpered, hands braced on the wall. 

“How are you still so tight…” he hissed, enraged he couldn’t yet feel all of me.

My fingers weaved into his hair, tugging as I leaned further back into him. This feral urge, I craved it. It was scarce enough to satiate the searing lust in me, so I ground impiously against his length like the unholy girl he wanted me to be. 

Tonight, he was to have his way. He was the nefarious overlord and I was but a malleable zealot. My hips were firmly held down by his hands — he wanted to control my rhythm. I was, afterall, his submissive little prey. 

Alucard forced his cum-stained fingers into my mouth, swirling them about the insides of my cheeks, wresting in and out of my plush lips. I licked at them greedily, suckling on his taste. He was so deft — hands and length penetrating me in a lyrical sync, sating me above and below.

I gagged when he stuck his fingers further down, my throat wedging tight. Tears rimmed my eyes but I continued hollowing my cheeks, head bobbing. “Such a good girl…” praising as he brushed hair off my face. I was to appear immaculate while being fucked indecent.

Hypnotised by his bulge assaulting my hole, I bit sinfully on his index, tearing his skin. He pulled out from my mouth, eyes transfixed on the blot of blood. 

“You’re being a naughty little lamb tonight…” His smile was insidious, like a serpent suffocating its meal.

My vampire smothered his blood over my parted lips. My tongue grazed over it, wiping it clean like I was the one writhing in blood lust. What I did had Alucard under a powerful spell. He plummeted his smug into me, our kisses heedless, crashing into each other in depraved lust. 

We sucked and bit them swollen, both of us unrestrained and shameless of our monstrous love. Under, he continued hammering his heat into me, hand pushing my cunt back to swallow more of him.

Alucard was never one to trifle with a perfect opportunity. Hands at his favourite spot, he rubbed his digits forcefully at all the places his cock didn’t already fill. My knees buckled at once from overstimulation. 

“Stay.” He landed a firm smack onto my soaking sex… “Still.”

“Or I won’t let you cum.” An order.

He bent me over, my backside raised to allow him easy entry. I compelled my wobbly legs to stand, muscles quivering at my bones.

“Good. Hands on the wall.” 

Like his obedient little lamb, I hoisted my arms on the cold stone, squeezing taut around my feral wolf.

I was begging, moaning his name, my being in complete disarray.

Content with how tight I was clenching around his shaft, Alucard drove his erection mercilessly into me, pounding so hard I was lifted off the ground. 

I cried out in pleasure and pain. “Adrian! Adrian please…”

“You like it when I’m rough with you, baby? You want me to turn you, and fucking you senseless comes with it,” he spat in between thrusts, dragging hair away from my ears to ascertain I could hear him loud and clear. 

I was so deliciously filled my lewdness spilled out onto my legs. Paths of sweet nectar trickled down my trembling thighs, glazing his girth with my wicked desire. 

I was so close.

Smelling my arousal and imminent climax, Alucard slammed faster into me, his own pace losing cadence. 

We were so close. 

He had everything timed perfectly. Just as he had countless times before — night creatures and wild animals — all unsuspecting pawns to his blood thirst. He was adept at hiding his deplorable little secret, but I knew better. 

Fangs fully exposed, he grazed them masterfully over my neck, humming at my veins and arteries. Quite like a skilled chef discerning food, he was choosing which would taste most exquisite. My scarlet vessels were pulsing in tempo with my heartbeat — palpitating, quivering, waiting.

“Are you frightened? I can feel your terror in my bones…” villainy laced his snarl like a wolf finally rid of sheep’s clothing. 

I had to inhale gulps of air to articulate my words, “No….” But what I said or what I thought mattered no longer. Gone was Adrian — human, moral, benign. A bestial, debased monster, instead, all consumed him. 

Soulless eyes searched me once more, as if to forewarn me about my perilous decision, as if the human in him was straining to break free of his chains to stop this atrocity.

There was no turning back now.

I offered my neck to him, reckless, bloodstreams on full display. At last, with Alucard’s throbbing cock still stuffed full inside, I felt the firestorm in my core and the crushing torrent soon overcame me. 

My release tonight felt different — cathartic. I was once again the delicate driftwood being dragged underwater — careless, aimless, going where the current took me. My limbs fell limp at my sides, my spirit devoid of vigour. And I knew why. 

Alucard’s fangs were buried in my neck, drinking my blood as if a divine offering. When did he bite me? I felt no pain, only a rapture so heavenly I ached for more. 

And so drink he did. Rivers of blood coated his lips, crimson tributaries surging down his throat. He sucked and lapped at my vital spark, clawing at my body so arduously as if I was the most cherished jewel of immeasurable value. 

Like a vampire deprived of debauchery, he drank me in like sweet sin. He had no beginning and no end. And rightfully so. I was profoundly proud of my Adrian. At long last, he no longer had to be ashamed of who he was. He was liberated. He was free. 

My racing heart was now a supine hum. I lay naked — pliant and frozen in his arms. The sleepy swell of the ocean lulled me into the black nothingness. I was rising and falling, so in harmony with the current.

Above, hazy sunbeams fractioned the waves like sparkling diamond necklaces. Beneath, the sombre abyss tugged at my essence, diffusing all manner of light. The ominous depth, though a macabre embrace, was one so full of promise. It was beckoning to me, calling my name — stay, stay, stay…

—

I awoke to a pall of infinite blackness. 

I had been dreaming. There were shadows — silhouettes, of people I couldn’t quite make out. They were whispering, a sonnet of hurried voices, as if going somewhere, but nowhere at the same time. Then there was a lambent flame — the colour of pale amber, always in the distance but never near. Always tailing, always watching…

Where was I? 

I could see nothing, hear nothing. I shifted slightly, and my shoulders were met by cool textile — silk? As more of my senses reconciled, I felt the mattress below me, a satiny divan not reminiscent of my bed. Muted was the air, hollow was the roof, and

…algid was my skin. 

I was in a coffin.  

Panic coiled through the ridges of my ribs, puncturing my heart like lethal thorns. I clawed and pounded at the wood…was I buried alive?

Alas, like the caves of hell being vaquished by divine light, the casket slid open, and I clambered onto a sprawling granite floor. I was heaving, frantic to take in air, clamouring at my chest as if ghostly hands were crushing my heart, splintering my valves. 

Where was Adrian?

A succession of torches adorned the upper vaults, the mellow ebb of light suddenly becoming glaring to my eyes, as if I had been staring directly at the sun. I could make out the phosphorescent ripples and saffron hues that wreathed the flames. 

The air smelled vaguely of mildew and crumbling concrete, while the scampering of rodents in between masonry thundered in my ears. I could hear them squeaking, the sounds of their bones compressing while they squeezed through cracks and crevices. 

I could hear their heartbeats — tiny surges of blood in their capillaries. 

Such fragile little things, I wonder what they’d feel when they’re crushed by the force of my teeth. If they’d feel pain, if any at all, as I drain them dry…

I was so, so hungry. 

My awareness had heightened ten-fold, the anarchy of it all confounding whatever human that was left in me. The sensation of everything all at once was too much to bear and I covered my ears to drown out the distress. 

Futile efforts indeed. 

“Adrian? Adrian…” My voice hoarse from wheezing.

Was this what he had to endure? Being so akin with the presence of entirety, enough to render one insane. Was this why he had been so loath to turn me?

I hauled myself off the ground, bidding my legs to what looked to be a door. Scarce a blink had passed than I was face to face with a metal threshold — intricate lineations etched faintly onto the frame. 

“Willing blood of the Raven Maiden,” — Enochian, words of ancient bygone, but Adrian and I had been avid philologists.

I didn’t concern myself with whether the translation had in fact referred to my blood, but I sank my fangs — a lurid extension — into my wrist and smeared them over the threshold. 

The magicked portal transported me to a bed chamber, a former bed chamber, now resembling the crux of a dense forest.

Creepers cleaved through stone, while poison vines slivered across furniture. Rich moss clung to the bed frame, eating away at the tulle canopy, embedding itself into rotted linen.

That chaise…it was ours. 

Horror flooded my senses as I glanced furtively around. 

Our armoire, our settee, our desk. 

Strewn across the floor, some shredded by tree roots dissecting the wooden panelling, lay stacks of disintegrating parchment like remnants of forgotten lore.

Vampiric speed overtaking, my eyes scanned the moth-eaten pages over. 

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

I choked on my tears. 

“To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster.”

They fell like glass, shattering on the ink, eroding the paper more.

How long had I been asleep for?

“No, no, no…”  I wept into the emptiness, anguish imprisoning my lungs, blocking off air. In spite of being undead, I had a heart, and it bled — it bled crimson, pain and grief. It bled with all the words I wished I could take back. 

It bled with all the ache that I might never see Adrian again. 

I scoured the castle. Every tower, every room, every dungeon, each a shell of its former mirth. The scenes ran parallel  — overgrown foliage, wrecked furnishings, pillars atrophied by decay. Our home had been eaten away by the curse of time. There was no sign of life, no essence of Adrian. 

With a threshing hole in my heart, I raced past the lattice of abandon toward the main doors. As the iron portcullis lifted, I recoiled at the hell that awaited me. 

There, in the blistering winter, impaled upon rows and rows of stakes, dangled festering corpses of night creatures…and humans. 

What have I done?

Pt I I Pt III I Pt IV

[limethefirst]

Hi! How are you? I was looking for people writing movie shadow after I saw the movie and hoped I could submit a request for you? Can we maybe have shadow with a reader who is a alien hedgehog like him found after him? Shadow when he met the reader takes her in as his own and helps to in a way raise them. After the accident they both were put under statis and met up again in the base 50 years later after he and she had escaped?

Remember Me

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x Hedgehog!reader (platonic)

warnings: spoilers

summary: Shadow takes it upon himself to look out for you even after being frozen for 50 years

a/n: slowly getting back into the writing groove yes!! if i wrote things for other fandoms would you guys burn me at the stake or not❤️

Shadow was used to feeling alone, being the only alien hedgehog constantly surrounded by scientists who saw him as some type of experiment was draining. Of course he had Maria and for her he was forever grateful but she didn't understand how he felt, no one really could. Until you came along, another alien hedgehog that arrived the same way he did, and was now viewed just like he was.

By all means, Shadow, was not considered approachable. He was only ever willingly around Maria and Gerald, and even Gerald was often pushing it, but when you showed up it was hard to catch him alone. He was basically your caretaker, a task he gave himself after seeing how nervous you felt around everyone and how you weren't exactly sure how to regulate the powers you also had.

You sat next to Shadow as Maria put on a new movie she'd found, 'Godzilla', it was called. You didn't like it, it was about an alien, an evil one who destroyed a place on earth called Japan. It made you feel slightly, self conscious? Even though you yourself wouldn't do that or ever thought of committing violent acts against people. Shadow seemingly noticing your discomfort nudged you, drawing your attention away from the self deprivation you were feeling. He looked down at you, giving you a gruff nod, almost like he could read your mind.

His gaze never left your eyes, silently communicating. It was easy to tell what he wanted to say, 'You're not a freaky monster alien who will go and tear up Japan.' Or something along those lines.. the latter was funnier though. Maria glanced over at you two, noticing the subtle communication but also the slight sadness you both had inn your eyes. Although he didn't show it as much, Shadow felt slightly the same upon seeing the movie.

He knew that feeling all to well, he'd seen it, in the eyes of the scientists, guards, everyone who worked here. They thought he was dangerous, and he hated it. Which was why he was determined to make sure you didn't feel the same, because he wasn't sure if he could handle knowing that you also felt like you were a danger, something that was a weapon.

The nights dragged on, and he made sure to keep an eye on you, silently at least. He will never openly show how much he cares. He just will care, and that's good enough for him, although Maria could tell he cared.

Then that night came, where Maria was gone, and so were you. They'd taken Maria from him and grabbed you, pulling you away from him. God, he couldn't stand it, the tears that fell as you screamed for him. He would've tried to do something if it weren't for the fact he was in shock, he'd witnessed one of his closeted friends die in front of him and now he had to watch as they dragged you away, putting you in a small cage as your small hands tried to reach out to him.

Finally there was silence, it was restless, a restless silence that he had to endure for 50 years. Until he was woken up, and all that consumed him was rage. While on the other side of the containment chambers, you'd also woken up, but instead of feeling anger coursing through you, it was fear. You looked around the barren room, the alarms were sounding, and everything was flashing red, suddenly a loud thud broke your nervous train of thought.

You're eyes widened slightly as something punched down the wall, you stepped out of the tube that held you, the liquid used to keep you asleep was drained, leaving your quills wet. The dust slowly began to clear revealing a figure you longed to see since that dreadful night.

"Shadow?.." You're voice slightly trembled as you spoke that name, trying to see him through the red flashing room. Shadow looked at you, his gaze was unwavering but it slightly softened seeing that you were still alive, and unharmed.

He let out a small sigh, his shoulders untensing at your voice, "Let's go," it was rough but his eyes betrayed him. He was grateful, happy to see that you, at least, had survived. He wasn't going to let what happened to Maria happen to you, he swore on that, nothing would harm you.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being a Skywalker triplet and being raised in the Empire

Skywalkers x sibling!reader

warnings: death and destruction. reader lowkey evil in the first half

a/n: yeah,,,its based on an oc. timeline is slightly out of order/weird bc im doing it from memory

prompt:

when you were born, you and your other two siblings were separated

your brother was sent to live with an uncle on tattooine

your sister was raised by alderaan nobility

and you, you never made it to your destination

the ship that carried you and the jedi that would care for you was intercepted, you were taken and brought to your father, anakin—now known as darth vader

as far as he knew, you were the only child and he had killed your mother, padmé

the emperor saw use for you and decided you’d be kept within the empire, vader could be close and you’d know your father, but you were not to reveal your true identities

“father, you used to be a jedi?” -you

“i was once, but that was a long time ago” -vader

“what happened?” -you

“the order betrayed me, sent my master to kill me. they could not be trusted, which is why we must kill all jedi” -vader

“yes, father” -you

your training to be an inquisitor was overseen by vader, who grew more and more angry at your spar partner every time you were hit

“patience, vader. you must not show weakness—or else i will kill y/n myself” -palpatine

you had a lot of weight on your shoulders. hiding the fact you were anakin skywalker and padmé amidala’s child. vader’s child. palpatine always had his eye on you. he wanted you to be one of his soldiers

you were very young when you were appointed an inquisitor role. about 13

and you had been given a new last name as not to tip off anyone in the empire

you often reported to vader—a petty complaint or a real crime

“another inquisitor compared me to a bantha” -you

“it will be dealt with” -vader

that inquisitor was dead by the end of the day

you were tasked with a lot of special missions, trusted with sensitive information—the other inquisitors noticed and were very jealous

but palpatine was impressed by the way you handled yourself

“y/n, you remind me of your father when he was young. powerful, strong, passionate. one day you may have a place by my side” -palpatine

you were shaken by that offer as you knew the rule of twos

rebels feared you, an inquisitor who swiftly wiped them from the galaxy without a second thought

the clone wars fascinated you, and as much as you wanted to pry for information from your father, you conceded

but you always heard whispers of anakin skywalker’s famed 501st legion and his padawan, ahsoka

you always wondered if he compared the two of you

sometimes, when away from palpatine—often on mustafar—you’d be vader’s child and not another inquisitor. you’d be able to spar and speak a bit more freely.

“your mother. she was a politician. formerly the queen of naboo when she was your age. i…loved her dearly. but the jedi forbid it, we had to keep it a secret” -vader

“would the emperor have allowed it?” -you

“he was one of few who knew” -vader

some days he wished he were just anakin and the three of you lived peacefully on naboo. he wished you were not a soldier like him. but he was truly proud of what you’d amounted to

your faith in the empire started to falter around the time the ghost crew began to wreak havoc

as capable as you were, you hesitated to use your full potential to take them out

and it was noticed

“you will not show these criminals mercy, y/n! you take them out, or i will find someone more deserving of power!” -palpatine

it was around age 16 you questioned the cause

analyzed it without the influence of palpatine or vader or any soldiers

unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple

some years later, you were assigned to the death star—an honor, it was

one day you and vader had captured princess leia of alderaan and you felt…different. some sort of connection

“not often you see an inquisitor these days” -leia

“nor a princess committing treason against the empire” -you, putting her in her cell

before you knew it, there was a whole crew of rebels on board trying to save her

some more familiar than others

kenobi?

“i know that name” -you

“silence, child. i will finish what i started” -vader

obi-wan recognized you right away, the child he failed to bring to safety

but what didn’t sit right with you was when you’d hunted the other rebels going to save the princess, you heard

“i’m luke skywalker, i’m here to rescue you”

skywalker

your true name was shared by another

were you a twin?

there wasn’t enough time to figure out the details, you were a servant to the empire—to palpatine. you had a mission

but before long you’d have to escape the destruction of the death star

“father. that boy. his name is skywalker” -you

“the force is strong in him” -vader

“what do we do?” -you

“you will receive instruction when necessary” -vader

lots to ponder, lots to unpack

a brother. a brother even vader didn’t know about. he had to be. theres no other explanation

and with obi-wan kenobi? your father’s master. this was no coincidence

some time passed and you met the rebels again in bespin—cloud city

it was here your father confronted luke about his parentage.

“luke, i am your father” -vader

but as vader was distracted, you fled to help the rest of the millennium falcon crew escape

“how can we trust you?” -lando

“please, understand, i have been raised in the empire my entire life. forced to hide my true identity. my real name is y/n skywalker. my parents are padmé amidala and anakin skywalker. i believe luke is my twin brother” -you

“oh, please, you’ll say anything to get the chance to kill us—” -lando

“i believe they’re telling the truth. come with us, y/n” -leia

you’d saved luke and fled bespin with the remainder of the crew, apologizing for han’s fate in the carbonite

and luke was thrilled to see you face to face all things considered

“so it’s true? vader is my—our father?” -luke

“i was found in a ship with a jedi—presumably on a mission to hide me from the empire. vader had no idea you existed. until you met on the death star” -you

“you spent your whole life in the empire?” -luke

“i did. but to preserve vader’s anonymity, i was not permitted to be his ‘child,’ although—vader has a hard time following rules. they trained me as soon as my power began to show and inducted me into the inquisitors early on. i just…it never felt right. i’ve killed…so many people. done so many unforgivable things and yet i could never break free until now” -you

luke hugged you. it was the first time anyone ever had

“y/n. i know we’re strangers, but i understand regret. you left of your own free will, knowing there could be consequences. you came with us. there is good in you” -luke

you felt bad luke was comforting you when your dad had just had his hand chopped off

he asked what you knew of your father’s history, your mother’s history, and you told him all you could

your freedom from the empire felt refreshing

being y/n skywalker was refreshing

and although building trust took time, luke advocated for you every chance he could

“y/n knows the empire inside and out. they have training as a pilot, a soldier, a leader. you can’t go wrong with them” -luke

“y/n was complicit in the destruction of alderaan and countless other planets. billions murdered without so much as a warning. gone. like that” -mon mothma

“if i may, considering it is my people’s demise you are invoking—y/n has made their choice to join the rebellion. shed their imperial image and trained as a jedi with luke. we are lucky to have someone so well-versed in the ways of the empire” -leia

“and you’re comfortable with y/n, the sith raised by darth vader and the empire, to command rebel troops? what if they lead them into a trap?” -mon mothma

“y/n has done nothing since their departure from the empire to invoke such suspicion. i’ve seen nothing but acts of remorse and kindness as they rebuild their image” -leia

you couldn’t figure out why leia was so kind to you. you felt guilty about the destruction of her planet

but she blamed vader. she didn’t blame you as you were just a pawn in a sick game

the battle of endor was fought while you and luke handled vader and palpatine

“are you ready, brother?” -you, grabbing his hand

“i am glad to have you by my side” -luke

palpatine laughed in your face

“six months away from the empire and you’re already claiming to be a jedi? hah! you have years of darkness inside of you, i was ready to make you my new protégé. it is a shame, you’d be a good one” -palpatine

you, luke, and vader fought together to vanquish him, and as you watched your father die, you knew he did everything he could to protect you in this life

“y/n. seeing you as a jedi…has been the most fulfilling part of my life. luke, thank you for guiding them where they should have always been” -anakin

as the rebels won the war, you went back to the forest moon of endor, where luke informed you of something he had been waiting to tell you for some time

“obi-wan told me something, it feels like a miracle, really” -luke

“well, spit it out, already!” -you

“we’re triplets” -luke

“we have another sibling?” -you

“leia is our sister” -luke

it felt like everything clicked at that very moment. a sister. you three were connected from the beginning

you soon hugged leia and delivered the news with luke

a family reunion years in the making

after the events of the war died down and the galaxy began to rebuild, you decided you needed to atone for your sins

do some good on your own

“don’t hesitate to call. we’re just a hologram away” -leia

“thank you for being there for me. and believing in me. i wouldn’t be here you without you guys” -you

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @summersimmerus // @lady-violet // @simp-legend //

[ddejavvu]

anakin pulling reader over his lap spanking her and teasing/making fun of her for liking it and occasionally stops to rub his fingers against her clit to see she’s wet and he’s laughing and making fun of her for it, how dirty and how she’s so desperate for him oml😫😫😫

this post is 18+, minors dni.

contents/warnings: dark!anakin (probably), spanking, impact play + lots of dialogue about it, manhandling, pain, use of the word 'whore', mentions of a daddy kink but no involvement with one.

"This is ridiculous." Anakin's grating drawl reaches your ears, his speech pattern stunted condescendingly like he's charging through molasses, "I mean, this looks like a bad porno."

You're bent over his lap, fingers clawing into the carpet beneath you, and his flesh hand is working a tight burning sensation into the exposed flesh of your ass. He doesn't smack rhythmically, no, he smacks hard from below to watch your ass jiggle, then quick and rough from the side to watch his hand encompass a large portion of your flesh.

There's no predictability to his movements, and your eyes are squeezed shut, filled with glassy tears that would stop you from seeing even if they were open. You cry out with each new smack to your ass, acting completely helpless the way you let your limbs sag lifelessly over Anakin's lap. If you wanted to, you could push yourself off of him, or crawl forwards and run. But you don't- you were the one that asked for this.

"Is this really what you like? Bending over my lap and making me spank you like you're a whore in a video? Wait," He laughs, sounding evil and haughty, "Are you going to start calling me daddy next?"

He punctuates the accusation with a sharp, searing slap against the middle of your ass. You're sure he's watching as your flesh bounces according to his abuse, but he acts like he's so above you, like you're a sex-crazed playboy bunny archetype for wanting some pain with your pleasure.

You're expecting another slap but it doesn't come, instead you feel two rough fingers prodding mercilessly against your entrance. Thankfully, you're decently wet from the way Anakin's been bruising your ass, so there's little resistance, and not much discomfort even as he bullies his way inside.

"You're soaked." He judges, eyes surely scrutinizing the spread of your puffy cunt lips that he can see behind your ass, "This is really- pathetic. I'm hitting you and you're getting wet from it. Is that really how you wanna leave a wet spot on my pants? From being smacked around?"

You gasp desperately for air, grinding against his lap just as pathetically as he'd accused you of. When you raise your head to speak, to try and defend any shred of dignity you may have left, you feel a sharp pain in your neck, and register too late that it's anakin's hand having shoved your face back down towards the carpet. He keeps his metal hand firmly, steadily on your head, and you breathe shakily as your wide eyes stare at the floor. Your cunt throbs.

"Don't fucking-" He breathes like a crazed animal, like a dragon piping smoke from its snout, "Don't lift your head up like you're better than this. Keep your face in the floor. All you deserve to look at is my boots, because right now, you're dirtier than they are."

You manage to choke out a 'Yes, Anakin' without thinking. It feels right, succumbing to his power. Even if you could get out. You grind against his lap again, begging for another bruise.

"That's exactly how someone who gets off on this should speak," You can hear his breathing again, raw and ragged as he thrives on dominance. His hand lowers again, against the flesh of your right ass cheek to leave a burning mark in its wake, "And every time you sit down for the next week, you're going to feel this. And every time you feel this, I want you to remember that your pussy is leaking because I'm beating you up. Does that make you feel good?"

It's a yes and it's a no. It lights shame within your chest, but that shame is a candle that drips warm sticky wax down your ribs and into your core, which tingles anticipatorily with pleasure.

"Does it make you feel good?" Anakin repeats, louder, angrier this time.

"Yes!" You shout, giving in to the answer prevailing in your mind, the one that had come to you without logic's involvement.

"Remember that." He commands, and it's deliciously ominous as he plants another smack against your ass, "Remember that you get off like this. With your face in the floor and bruises on your ass."

[qqueenofhades]

I got political whiplash on Threads. First, everyone was screaming, “All is lost!” I came back an hour later, and everyone was screaming, “We Ride at Dawn!”

The right-wingers are in panic mode. Steven Miller was practically screaming on Feckless news. 🤣

I mean. The right-wingers' entire mentality, the fuel for the January 6 attempted coup, the recent SCOTUS President God-King Immunity ruling, and all the rest, is premised on the simple fact that the president is indeed, Almighty God King who serves for life and will never, ever willingly give up his power. So that's how I can guarantee that the GOP, because they are short-sighted fascist morons, did not plan for this. Their entire strategy was built around attacking Biden, because they hate him. Like, really hate him. He defeated Trump the first time and there was still a good chance that he could do it again. Trump got impeached the first time for trying to extort Zelenskyy for dirt on Biden, because he didn't want to face him. That's why they went after Hunter on largely bogus charges, tossed around the idea of impeaching Biden, actually (uselessly) impeached Mayorkas, etc.

And yet, because Biden (even if he was forced to do it) decided to step away and voluntarily give up his presidential power instead of wrecking American democracy to hold onto it, that has broken their little shriveled fascist brains. They literally can't comprehend it, and I can guarantee they're now shit scared about having to face Kamala, a brown woman, who is the epitome of everything their tiny evil brains hate. As noted by those bangin' fundraising numbers, there is also a lot of excitement around her. And suddenly, after MONTHS of "this election is a referendum on which old and mentally declining man you hate more," that has been removed as a factor. (Watch the media suddenly forget all about age and/or mental competency as a factor now that Biden is out. Does it apply to Trump, you ask? CRICKETS.)

Kamala is going to mop the f'n floor with Trump at the next presidential debate, and I guarantee that the GOP knows that too. Because yes, if Biden had another bad debate, or if he has a bad case of COVID that might end up giving him long-covid symptoms or keeping him off the trail for days or weeks, that would have been very, very hard to recover from. Now the GOP is the one stuck with an old, mentally baffled, virulently hated presidential candidate and the most pro-Russia, anti-woman, demonstrable-sellout whitebread VP pick imaginable, that they had to choose because Trump nearly got the last one killed and he wasn't interested in the job again, for some weird reason. And as we have pointed out before, this is the last-chance saloon for Trump in any number of ways, and he has been demonstrably overconfident the last few weeks as the media was consumed with discussion of Biden's stumbles rather than Trump's manifold unfitness, treason, felonies, and all the rest.

I don't agree with Biden on everything he has ever done in his long career in public service, but I will say that I don't think he would have actually done this if he wasn't eventually convinced, for whatever reason that might be, that it was the right decision. And my one big fear about him stepping down was that the party would instantly fracture, people would start flogging unrealistic Magical White Boy replacements, and otherwise insist on an "open mini-primary!" or some other fucking bullshit. Now, there are still a few idiots trying that, but by and large, the Democratic power apparatus has instantly thrown its weight behind Kamala. That doesn't excuse them for the weeks of wibbling Anonymous Sources self-sabotage beforehand, and I still vote that we destroy the billionaires at our next opportunity, but if we can stick with that and keep up those mongo fundraising numbers, we might indeed actually have a better chance than before, and that was what this was all about.

As I noted yesterday, Black women have been disproportionately influential in taking Trump down (think Leticia James, Fani Willis, etc) and there is undoubtedly a huge, HUGE amount of poetic justice if Kamala can be the one to stick the knife in his greasy orange gut once and for all. I can likewise guarantee the GOP is well aware of that, and the fact that while they can yell even louder and trot out the same old racist, sexist, misogynist fearmongering dirtbag attacks they used on HRC, that is a strategy with demonstrably diminishing returns (it sure as hell isn't going to help them win any more female or suburban or black voters or anyone else we always hear about how they're Making Inroads with). And we're not going to talk about how it's Obvious that America would never elect a black female president. Obama won two terms. Even with all that weight of frothing misogyny and DECADES of Republican smear machines, HRC won the popular vote and was ratfucked out of the Electoral College by the slimmest of margins, after a massive interference campaign by the Russians. It is fucking possible, we are going to do it, and the Republicans are so, SO FUCKING SCARED of having to live in an America run by a brown woman, that can only be for the good.

Kamala Harris 2024. Let's go.

[arcanemadman]

I've seen a lot of people defend the choice of the show to make an entire caste of good demons while the main antagonists are humans as it follows what was established in the source series. I would like to dispute this.

The problem is that the show addresses what "goodness" and "humanity" in political terms while the games have always focused on it more philosophically or spiritually. Humanity is unambiguously a good thing in DMC, its what makes Dante more power than those without it, even the like of Urizen and Mundus. The demons that become "good" are actively fighting against their nature, and in doing so they achieve "humanity". When Dante says "Devil's Never Cry" he mean that anyone that is able to cry for another person has humanity, which is why he uses it to comfort Lucia and Trish. It doesn't matter that they're full blooded demons, the fact they can cry is proof enough that they have humanity.

There's the example of Brad from the anime, a demon that fell in love with a human that has been used as an example. People forget that Brad was sent in to infiltrate and kill for his demon master, and only after falling in love with Mayor Hagel's daughter did he rebel. He was abused and trod on by more powerful demons yes, but he still followed any order they gave him. If not for the mayors daughter, he would have gone along with the murder of humans without a second thought, it's only after he started caring for someone else that he had a complete change of heart and was willing to let Dante kill him rather than hurt someone else. And these are meant to be the exception, not the rule. Out of all the demons in the series, you can count the number that actively turned away from evil on one hand.

Then there are the human antagonists. Every single one of them abandons their humanity for power or greed, Dante outlines this to Agnus after the boss battle in 4.

"You surrendered your humanity. It's that simple." "But you are not human...! So why am I inferior?!" "You assume humans are weak... Ok yeah, their bodies may lack the physical ability of a demon. But humans possess something that demons don't."

And Nero repeats this in the final battle with Sanctus.

"The power of Sparda... why won't you give me strength!? Am I not worthy!?" "Never could take those legends too literally. But I do know that Sparda had a heart. A heart that could love another person, a human. And that is what you lack."

Arkham, Arius, Agnus, Sanctus, all of them abandoned their humanity. That is why they are the antagonists, because they are the opposite of what the heroes stand for - the strength of humanity. They say "Humanity is nothing but weakness and can never stand up against us", which is rejected by the message "the human ability to care is greater than any power you could gain by abandoning it." This is the whole point of Dante and Vergil's rivalry, Vergil rejected his humanity in pursuit of power, and in the final battle despite both twins being equal and Vergil holding the Force Edge, Dante is able to win because he holds on to his humanity. This is emphasised again in DMC5 when Urizen eats the fruit of the Qliphoth and gains the ultimate power in the eyes of demonkind, but is still utterly defeated by Dante. It's only when V, who was able to rediscover his humanity, reunites with Urizen that Vergil becomes Dante's equal again. In terms of power adding V to Urizen is like adding a drop of water to an ocean, the only thing he add to Urizen is humanity, but that's what allows him to cross the canyon between Urizen's Qliphoth boosted power and Dante.

This is what the series was about - the strength of the human heart.

On the other hand, we have the show where humanity is villainous, and there are good demons, but how is it different? Well, the good demons are just that; they are inherently good. It's in their nature to be good. When they show kindness or compassion for someone else, it's not them defying their nature and showing their strength of character. When a demon cries in the show it's nothing special, they cry all the time whether if its from having a family member die or begging for mercy or when their about to be killed by the american military. Crying isn't a sign of the quality of their soul or ability to love, it's just something they do now.

As for the humans, when they do something evil it's not because they abandoned their humanity, but rather because they are following their human impulses. Why does America invade the demon world? Because they're greedy and want to colonise it. Why do they gun down the good demons? Because they're hateful and narrow minded. Why do they betray and manipulate? Because humans are untrustworthy. The humans of the show are evil because they are human, which is a direct contradiction with the core thesis of the series.

And there are no humans in the series that show this value of humanity. Mary is actively complicit with atrocities along with the entirity of Darkcom, Eva's dead, Kalina Ann is also dead, so's the quantum scientist, Enzo's a scumbag underworld dealer and also dead, and every other main human is used to show the flaws of humanity. The only unambiguously good human is the mother who begs the demons to spare her daughter but she's a side character that doesn't even get a name.

And what's worse is that Dante isn't the champion of humanity. I don't mean this in the sense that he's the champion for the human race, but none of what motivates him is because he values humanity. He fights demons because they hurt people, and once the plot gets going it's all focused on his power as a demon. His devil trigger unleashes his anger and hate which he struggles to control, and he doesn't fight the White Rabbit because he believes it's his responsibility as the Son of Sparda but because he wants his necklace back. Even when he defends Sparda, it's more of him defending that he didn't fuck up rather than him upholding a legacy of heroism. The White Rabbit being human has no influence on him, he doesn't care either way. Dante being the Son of Sparda isn't a character trait now, it's a plot device to explain why the White Rabbit involves him in the plot.

By removing Arkham's relevance to the plot we don't get how Lady's sense of responsibility for her family changes Dante for the better, by removing Sparda's change of heart being unprecedented and special we don't see the core theme of the ability to care being what defines humanity, and that all has the knock on effect of making Dante become the hero not because he cares for humanity or because his own humanity drives him to do good, but because what would happen if he didn't was just bad.

And the choice to make the whole thing wrapped up in an Iraq war analogy twenty years late where they compare real life refugees to the demons you slaughter in the games is really stupid at best and outright offensive at worse, but that a discussion for another time.

[importantglittersuit]

Invincible Mark Grayson + Variants purring imagines/ headcanons

A/n- I had this idea an just wanted to put it somewhere, I don’t write well I apologize in advance. Suggestions are welcome.

Note: For the sake of this, they aren’t evil per say, some are intense and have a different personality than main stream mark.  

Main stream mark:

He didn’t know he could purr till after his powers kicked in. 

He was able to before when he was younger but Nolan told Debbie that he’d grow out of it as it’s more common in little kids and infant viltrumites (correction as pure breed viltrumites when little are trained for young, they usually stop around age 4 and even before then it’s uncommon because it’s only something that shows when they feel safe and we know how that goes but anyway)

He didn’t know until he met you and after being in a relationship for a while and after you know he’s invincible. 

One day he comes back from a battle,  he’s exhausted and just falls into your arms and lap.

You would be absently scrolling through your phone and playing with his hair when you hear a soft rumbling sound that’s vibrating against your finger tips. 

You blink before continuing to stroke his hair and it’s abundantly clear.

“Mark, did you know you purr?”

His eyes shot open, his voice groggy:”huh?”

You put your phone down playing with his hair again-“you’re purring.”

He blinked realizing there was a rumbling in his chest that was involuntary. He pressed his hands on his chest, his face flushing a bit but he was more confused.

You chuckled as he mumbled:”this is weird. Are viltrumites part cat or something?”

“You tell me it’s your anatomy.”

He rolled his eyes before laying back into your lap, the purring coming back in full swing as you just scratched his scalp again.

“This is adorable mark.”

“You better not tell anyone.”

“….”

“YOU BETTER NOT BE TEXTING EVE!”

Mohawk Mark:

Firstly, congratulations you managed to deal with his inflated ego. 

And freak.

Secondly, he rarely sits still enough to actually relax. 

He not one to just shyly crawl into your embrace.

You’ll be sitting on the couch relaxing when he just manifests behind you and litteraly says:”I demand affection.”

Proceeds to just throw himself over your lap.

You roll your eyes and continue watching the tv, him just poking your face arms, squeezing your legs to be the little gremlin he is (it’s how he shows his affection).

With how much he’s squirming you don’t realize he’s actually purring til you place your hand on his chest.

The vibration is definitely not his heart beat and you laugh.

“Why are you laughing?”

“You’re purring you goof.”

“Say what?”

He placed his hands over his chest and felt the rumbling and shot up walking away:”nope! Too weird!”

You rolled your eyes:”you can’t from it you idiot.”

You perhaps had five minutes of peace before he came back and jumped over you again.

“Don’t bring it up but I still need attention.”

Omni-Mark

Also another who wouldn’t say much about affection as he’s too aloof to say it but he’s made it clear that when he’s tired, your laps is his pillow and anything less will have him riot.

You were watching TV letting him rest up on your lap as you mindlessly ran your fingers through his hair as he slept.

He moved and buried his face in your stomach before you heard the rumbling sound.

You tried your best to not explode in cuteness aggression as his purring simply continued. 

You thought you hid it well until he mumbled:”yes I purr. And no you can’t tell anyone.”

“But-“

“No.”

Full masked Mark:

This boy is definitely clingy to you no matter what.

Soft boy.

He is never not near you or snuggling you. 

He had his face buried into your neck as you rubbed his back and scratched his scalp.

The purring came easily, he was content and happy.

You chuckled making him shift awake:”hmm?”

“You’re purring.”

“Oh.”

He blinked before shrugging and curling back into you:”means I’m happy.”

You smiled:”you’re like a cat.”

“Yep.”

“I can tease you about this.”

“Mkay.”

“And I-“

“shhhh let me sleep.”

You tolled your eyes as his purring filled the room as he fell back asleep in your arms.

Maskless Mark:

This boy. 

Shy boy.

Is always red in the face when asking for cuddles and one in a cuddle session it takes him a hot second to relax.

First time ever, he was laying against your stomach and his purring started startling him and he shot up red in the face embarrassed.

It took you more than a half hour to reassure him it was nothing to be embarrassed about and how it was cute. 

He hid under a blanket for another half hour.

Prisoner Mark:

(For sake of this, let’s say he was captured the moment he got his powers and then came back to earth)

When he came from the viltrumite prison, he was very much jumped 100 feet away if someone tried to touch him.

When it came to you he tried his best to gently get used to physical affection and or battle his insecurity of his scars and how his hair was growing back slowly in soft fuzzy patches.

Once he becomes comfortable enough with being near you, relaxing in your arms just gave him such security.

You were soft and comfort something he needed.

Gently having him rest his head in your lap and rubbing his chest with one hand and holding his other hand with your other as the deep rumbling in his chest showed he was content.

You didn’t comment on it to not embarrass him but he simply nuzzled your hand happily before relaxing again.

Viltrumite Mark

Definitely found it hard to relax and or accept anytime of physical affection.

How you managed to worm your way into his heart he wasn’t sure. The moment he was born and showed powers was the moment he was destined to know only hardship, training, all physical touch was nothing but hard punches.

So for you be gentle with him was new.

To be in your arms where you’re breathing was soft and you ran your hands through his hair gently. 

Body slack and relaxed, the deep rumble leaves him for the first time ever in his life.

You were taken aback but giggled softly only cupping his cheek and kissing his brows making him purr louder.

When you told him he wasn’t too embarrassed but didn’t care as he wasn’t going to stop his closeness to you.

Sinister Mark/ Maskless Mark

Both are very close to being crash outs half the time. Only difference is their approach.

Sinister is ready to fight someone and gets riled up quickly.

Maskless just stares before plotting someone’s demise.

Both need to be gently held by you and held for a good while.

Only then would they relax a bit and if you give them cuddles and scratches, they’ll start purring.

Both say they don’t do it though.

[queers-gambit]

Shadows of the Past

prompt: the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.

pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 5.1k+

note: wonky brain can think of nothing but this show right now i'm so sorry

warnings: cursing, spoilers, another reader insert for the haters, depiction of character injury, emotions are hard, small canon complicit angst, literal hurt and comfort, established relationship.

"Tell me again," your brother-in-law asked, "why you're not leading this company?"

You smirked, stepping over a fallen branch, "Because the High King has bestowed the honor to Herald Elrond, Daenor."

"Then why enlist you, too?"

"I am a mere emissary of the King. Besides, skills are required for this quest, Daenor, why would I not be employed?"

"Right, of course. I guess my question should be, what skills do you possess?" He teased, laughing when you shoved his shoulder playfully. "But truly," he asked, "why would the King send you both, so close to your wedding day? Why send you, too, if not to lead this company?" However, before you could answer, the air turned serious when the procession you followed came to a rather disturbing discovery upon the laid path.

You leaned on the intact stone while listening to Camnir discuss with Elrond possible paths forward after intending to cross a bridge over the gorge, only to find it in ruins and rubble. Elrond originally questioned the force that could've brought the ancient stone down in such a harsh and violent manner, thinking perhaps lightning, but another voice refuted this idea by claiming it was the Dark Lord, Sauron.

This familiar voice was that of Lady Galadriel - and while you've known her to be a fellow Commander, you were unsure of her title now. Yes, she was technically lieutenant of this company, and that was what she was addressed as, but you knew how stubborn the Elleth was and that she would not be so easily demoted.

You said nothing. You just listened as Camnir told Elrond they could take one of two paths: one so out of the way, it would add two weeks to their journey, and the other, down the same darkened path the Dark Lord laid.

Upon mentioning the path before them through the Hills of Tyrn Gorthad, Lady Galadriel twitched. She had been daintily ghosting her fingertips over the charred and mangled metal of the lanterns set on the imploded bridge, seemingly stuck in thought, then freezing. You couldn't see her face, only taking note of the brisk tension mounting in the Elleth's shoulders.

She spoke, "There is evil in those hills." The group shared silent looks, each with varying degrees of mistrust or caution. "Ancient, and full with malice," Galadriel glared at the landscape before her. "Sauron means for us to go that way. We must go another," She informed the group as if she were in a position to give orders.

From the crouch he took to observe the damage done to the stone, Elrond rose while speaking in a firm tone that overpowered the Lady's, "The Enemy is doubtless watching both roads." His eyes flickered over yours last as jetting over each of his soldiers, clocking the way you nodded in agreement. To you, it seemed common sense: of course, the bad guy was watching the paths that would lead the good guys to him! He was evil, not stupid! Elrond reminded his people, "This collapse makes it more critical than ever to reach Celebrimbor at speed."

"We won't reach anywhere with speed if we walk into a trap," Galadriel argued; the two friends (and distant cousins) held each other's even stare for several moments.

"What say you, Commander?" You asked, hoping to break the tension and little trance they were locked in. No, no, not out of jealousy, but out of protectiveness; wanting to break the ice for the sake of Elrond's authority.

"We go South," Elrond decided, turning from the fragmented bridge stump, ready to lead his company on, when Galadriel spoke again - from the same spot she had yet to move from.

"Commander, I must protest."

You did not move when the others did, you waited when Elrond paused and replied, "Your opinion on the matter has been heard."

He went to walk away again when Galadriel growled with a rolling tongue, "Elrond!"

You flinched to a halt in blinding irritation, upset by your peer's very audacity. Everyone halted around you, Camnir even shifting in his stance out of nervousness from the heat of your glare not on him. Your fiancé turned back to glare at his friend, ending with finality, "Opinion heard, lieutenant. We go South." He gave an encouraging command in Sindarin, leading only a few strides before pausing. When you automatically halted yourself at his side, he nodded and spoke softly while seemingly mindlessly grabbing your hand to give an affectionate and reassuring squeeze, "Lead them on, love, stay on the trail."

You glanced back at Galadriel, who was finally moving to keep up, and whispered for only his ears, "You sure?"

"I'm sure, go on," he confirmed, nodding again and offering a soft sort of half-smirk. His eyes, though, were squinted; indicating he was genuine in his displayed gentleness. With a squeeze to his hand, you offered one last stale look at Galadriel, who expertly avoided your eyes, then let go and walked forward to lead the way.

Behind you, Elrond snarled his scolding of Galadriel, insisting she shape up, forgo trust in the Ring of Power she wore, and if that wasn't possible, she needed to excuse herself. The Commander of the Northern Armies rebutdtaled that she did not desire to see any member of the company slain - a veiled response to her stubbornness to not abandon their quest and refusal to ignore her ring.

Forward, you marched.

Though you seldom showed it, you felt fearfully nervous when the night fell and your company crept further into what felt like infected wood. The ground turned spongey, a particular stench permeated the air, the darkness shadowed most all you saw. The trees loomed tall, the moon casted a bright silver light, and dead leaves crunched under booted, lithe steps. Elrond shared a nervous look with you, his hand only briefly brushing yours; a way to say he was there with you without being overly affectionate in front of his soldiers.

From the corner of his eye, Elrond saw your head tilt back in wonder before a fell voice hissed on the wind, "I am waiting for you." But in truth, nobody was sure about what they heard or did not hear. Perhaps they did not want to know, but still, the voice made the area further darken in suspicion, and once in a small clearing, all came to a halt to survey the surrounding area. There was a threat somewhere, but where exactly was yet to be determined.

Daenor questioned sharply, "What is this place?"

"Tyrn Gorthad," Camnir answered. "Known to men as the Barrow-downs."

You chimed in softly, "In ancient days, this was where they laid their lords and kings to rest."

"I feel no rest here," Daenor grumbled. "Even the trees seem ill at ease."

"Fear not," Vorohil chimed in, sounding amused while stepping up to (and through) your group's observation deck. "Dead men are no threat."

"Well, we've lived very different lives," you scoffed under your breath.

However, after Vorohil, Elrond followed; casting a look at the lot of you and reminding, "Keep moving."

You let the others pass ahead of you, trying to shake off your nerves and mentally prepare yourself for the hell you were walking into. Something anchored your feet, refusing to let go; every nerve in your body on fire and begging you not to wade into the dark. Your name was spoken gently, Galadriel's hand on your shoulder startling you.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"We shouldn't be here," you whispered, Elrond doubling back when he noted your delay. Not wanting a confrontation, Galadriel sighed and patted your shoulder before slipping away as your lover approached you.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly but urgently.

"There's something sinister here," you told him stiffly, stepping half a step closer, "watching us."

He took a breath, "If Galadriel's ring - "

"It's not that!" You insisted. "I feel it, Elrond, not the ring, not anything Galadriel said. I feel it."

Elrond's brows furrowed at the tips, like something hooked them to yank towards his nose. "Then stay close to me," he decided.

"We should move on, quickly," you snatched his hand to prevent him from parting; his gaze turning worried. "Please, listen to me."

"My love," he spoke softly, squeezing your hand, "it is a gravesite, nothing more. The dead cannot harm us."

"It is the living's influence I fear."

He sighed and nodded, "We will not linger." His forehead found yours to rest, "But do not stray from my side, it is of great comfort."

"To us both," you agreed, letting him pull back. Yet he did not relinquish hold of your hand, keeping it tight in his and leading you into the clearing the others were surveying.

"Commanders," Rían called, standing over the corpses of two horses... Attacked seemingly a time ago, and upon inspection, discovered the pairing bodily remains of an Elvish party.

Elrond questioned your name when you squatted, brushing aside debris. "Their barding is from Lindon," you told him, gently ghosting the leather with your touch. You looked up to meet his eyes, glancing over to see Galadriel, predicting, "The King sent a dispatch to warn Celebrimbor."

Galadriel nodded in confirmation as Rían discovered the encased message from the King in a decorative tube, asking, "This dispatch?"

Slowly, you stood from your position and held a silent hand out, being given the tube for inspection; all eyes on you, waiting for whatever your overly keen (even for an Elf) eyes would see. After confirming the contents, your eyes locked with Galadriel's, and she spoke what you both were thinking: "We must go from this place."

Elrond appeared ready to agree, tension mounting as your company seemingly felt the blanket of panic being thrown over them all. From the dark, a set of rotting chains shot out to coil around Daemor, yanking him into the toxic, spongey earth and across the clearing.

"Y/N!" He shouted in shock, and without thinking, your hands slapped into his as if in an effort to anchor him... But you were both yanked off your feet. "Commander!"

"Daenor! NO!"

"Help me! Y/N, Y/N, please!"

"Hold onto me!" You begged, being drug on your belly.

"Sister! Sister, please, help me! Help me!" He sobbed in fear, a vice grip on your wrists and hands surely to leave blemishes. "Don't let go! Pl-eeeeeaaaaaase!"

"Daenor!" You whimpered, struggling as the force that held you both hostage was too strong to maintain a safe, secure hold permanently - meaning, saving him was futile.

Your name was bellowed, being drug towards one of the opened tombs; but at the last moment, the tether that kept you and Daenor together was broken and he was pulled into the abyss of the grave. You whimpered in fear, slowly lifting from your belly and to your knees as Daenor's screams were silenced... In fact, the entire area turned eerily quiet.

Behind you, the others rushed to the scene and Elrond immediately dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around you. "Are you hurt? Hey, hey, look at me, are you hurt?" He demanded, fearful that the chains might shoot out again to finish the job to swallow you in the dark. He checked for any physical injury, but the tension was too great to ignore; the mouth of the tomb glaring at you, forcing Elrond to silence himself.

You flinched back into his hold when the gruesome sounds of crunching bone and squelching flesh was heard; indicating whatever was inside, whatever claimed Daenor, had disposed of his living body.

Elrond took advantage of your flinch to rock you back onto your feet, standing as a group as a voice hissed, "Cold old be hand and heart and bone, And cold be sleep under stone, Never more to wake on stony bed, Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead." Galadriel brandished her sword as the wights first emerged, revealing their zombified forms. You encouraged the group to form together in a circle as the demons emerged. The Voice continued, "In the black wind, the stars shall die."

"Prepare yourselves," Galadriel warned, the group arming themselves.

"What are they?" Rían trembled.

From perfectly between Galadriel and Elrond, you answered, "They are those who laid in the tombs, the Lords and Kings of old... Lore calls them Barrow-wights."

The creatures surrounded your company, leering, growling, sizing you up. In Sindarin, Elrond commanded, "Attack!"

In tandem, the group lunged; weapons striking the ghoulish foes but they merely disintegrated in air... Then reformed. It seemed that fighting only served to irritate the enemies, their collective hissing and screeching making stomachs curl and skin to prickle in fear. Galadriel clocked this first, warning Rían, "Still your arrow!"

But the Elleth was already locked and loaded, the string slipping from her grip to fire at a distant wight. But it only soared through the zombie's face, not stopping, directing towards Camnir - but Elrond intercepted, swiping his sword to cut its path and save his soldier. The creature rejuvenated.

"They're impervious to our weapons," Camnir voiced, fear inking his tone.

Elrond's eyes found yours, seemingly connected by a string of similar thought; remembering the old wives tales you once read a lifetime ago, ancient lore about Barrow-wights dating back to the time of Melkor. So, he sheathed his sword and told his soldiers, "Hold fast." To Camnir, the closest to him, he demanded, "Come with me!"

"Where are you going?"

"Help me open it," Elrond told him, trying to pry open the sealed tomb as you swiped at another wight's skeletal hand reaching for you.

"What?"

"Hurry!" Elrond barked in Sandarin.

Back in your group, Rían muttered nervously, "Commander?"

"Ease yourself, remain calm..."

"What do we do?"

"Make no sudden movements. Stay together, fend them off but don't engage a fight," you advised, "hold strong - "

A gasp cut off your words when chains coiled around your ankle; securing in a tight zip that knocked you off balance and back into the toxic dirt. You scrambled for purchase on anything, finding only wet leaves; and suddenly, the chain turned taunt with tension before you were being sucked back into another tomb.

"Commander!" Vorohil shouted, trying to reach for you, but just missing as you were reeled back over the dirt.

"Y/N!" Rían cried, alerting Elrond and Camnir of your situation. You whimpered in fear, sobbing as you couldn't fight the force; couldn't save yourself; only able to helplessly submit to your approaching doom after clawing unsuccessfully for salvation.

"No! No!" You yelped, trying to remove the chains, but another tightened around the first chain in a horribly tight, vice grip that strangled breath from your lungs from the pure burning sting. With the last of your air, you screamed, "Elrond! Please!"

You heard Vorohil sprinting after you, freezing in your escape attempt when a grisly, decayed hand extended from the ebony shadow of the tomb towards you. There was a panicked finality to your blood, fear clogging rational thought; never seeing Elrond, only focused on the threat pulling you in. But the half-Elf you meant to marry in only a few weeks time came surging onto the scene, sliding on his knees at the mouth of the tomb and swinging a sword to sever both hand and chains.

"Y/N - "

"Fuck's sake!" You snarled, unintentionally cutting Elrond off; shoving the chains from your leg, scrambling to your feet.

You were just about to thank Elrond when he instead encouraged, "Here, take this." He held out one of the ancient weapons excavated from the tomb, nodding with increased vigor before turning away when it was in your grip. You hacked and stabbed the wight that came after you, Elrond and Camnir tossing the rest of the company weapons to cast down the surrounding enemies.

"How?" Rían asked in shock, seeing the wisps of the last wights waft into the wind.

"According to lore, only the blades with which they were buried with will return such creatures to rest," Elrond explained.

"But the men buried here have been entombed for over a thousand years," Camnir trembled, turning to his companion.

Vorohil seethed, "I think it is safe to say that something has awoken them."

"No," Galadriel argued, glaring down at the wight's decaying body. "Someone... Awakening evil. Across all Middle-earth."

You ignored the conversation and slowly took a seat; leaving your weapon in the dirt while focusing on hiking up your trouser leg after discarding your boot. With a clenched jaw, you revealed the wight's chains left sizzling lacerations; the metal seemingly enchanted to burn damn near to the bone, creating craters, indentations, dimples to your otherwise pure and unblemished flesh.

You winced when fabric stuck to the wound, bearing your teeth while hissing through them; breathing turning staggered as the pain became biting. "Commander?" You heard Camnir question softly with concern, others turning to set their attention on you.

"It's nothing," you insisted, observing the wound and deciding a tourniquet was required.

"You're hurt," Elrond growled, surging forward and unintentionally knocking Galadriel's shoulder - but the Elleth didn't take offense. The others wanted to close in around you, but Galadriel held them back after witnessing you before. As Commander of the Southern Armies, you had seen many battles with Galadriel, and sometimes, you sustained injury; she's witnessed how you turned akin to a panicked animal when accosted with attention - no matter how genuine the concern.

"It's nothing," you repeated, reaching for one of your belts, "I'm fine."

"You're not - "

"It's a burn, Elrond, nothing more," you sniffled, feeling how far up the chain had gone; deciding to tie the tourniquet above your knee.

"Let me," Elrond whispered, laying his hands over yours that shook and trembled without abandon.

"Elrond - "

"Just," he snipped, needing to pause and take a breath, "please, let me help you."

Behind him, Galadriel ushered the others away to a short distance; deciding to gather whatever belongings of Daenor they could to honor his lost life. You met Elrond's worried gaze and nodded, sniffling, "Okay. J-Just above the knee, here," you showed him.

"I know, love, I've got yah," he breathed, shuffling closer and kneeling beside you while taking the belt. You pulled the material of your trousers straight, grimacing when Elrond first wrapped the leather around your thigh. "All right?" He checked, seeing you nod rapidly; no words used because you were holding your breath to prevent yourself from crying out. When Elrond first tied the leather, you whimpered and his eyes turned teary. "It's gonna get worse, love, just hang on f'me - " He warned you before suddenly tightening the tourniquet, making you yelp painfully. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I know it hurts, I know, I know, I'm so sorry," he repeated, your hands latching onto his forearms out of subconscious need to feel him for comfort while he secured the leather belt. When done, he reached for your cheeks and pet hair that escaped your braids behind your ears, encouraging, "Breathe for me, just breathe, love. You're all right, there you go. Breathe. Good, good, I've got you, I'm so sorry, just breathe, just breathe... Oh, I, uh..."

"What's wrong?" You worried when he trailed off; eyes full of tears and his mouth half opening while retracting his hands that you held by his wrists still.

"I've blood on my hands..." He splayed them in display between you two.

"It's okay - "

"Got it on your face," he frowned.

"It's fine," you insisted, sniffling sadly, "it's my blood, anyway. We should be moving - "

"You're hurt."

"I know, but it's not life threatening, I don't need coddled."

"I'm not coddling you - "

"You are," you half smirked, "because you're worried."

"Of course, I am," he scoffed, using his sleeve to wipe your cheeks and temples free of blood. "How can I not be? You..." His voice quaked with emotion, "You are my starlight, my fairest friend, my sweetest love. Seeing you hurt..."

"I know," you whispered, bringing him close so your foreheads met, "but I'm okay."

"For now."

You sighed, pulling back to respond, "Don't say that, don't even think it. Optimism is our only friend in this situation, else, what is the point of going after Sauron?"

He needed to take a breath, sniffling his own emotion. "Fine. We should rest until morning... Regroup, give you time off this leg for now."

You nodded, "You sure?"

"I think we could all use the reprieve," he admitted.

"Does that include you?" You asked while caressing the coils of chestnut off his forehead.

"I'm fine - "

"As I am?"

Elrond paused, then scoffed a small laugh and nodded. "I'm managing..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Hey," you whispered, bringing him back to your forehead, "you're doing an excellent job of leading this company. But we all have limits and tonight was a lot, you deserve the time to breathe."

"Time is something we don't have."

"We have enough for now," you insisted, more or less forcing Elrond to relent.

As Daenor's belongings were pulled from the tomb and buried in the scorched earth his killers had rose from, the company each offered you hollowed words of condolences for your loss. Beside Elrond, it was known, you and your brother-in-law were great friends - being the reason he met and eventually married your sister. His sword was embedded in the ground as a marker, the company gathered to silently pay their respects while their commander stood at the riverbed's edge in deep, solemn contemplation.

You held one of his daggers, intending to keep it in reminder; pocketing a few pieces of jewelry, intending to give it to his wife. However, all was interrupted when from a distance, you heard the booming rumble of drums. Not just any drums, but the beating sounds of a marching procession; something ominous and daunting. You perked up, standing to your feet as something dark and familiar started in your chest before sinking to your gut. By looks of your company, they, too, heard the drums and shared your worried thoughts; sheathing Daenor's dagger to your belt and surging for where Elrond stood speaking to Galadriel.

"Forgive my intrusion," you bid the pair, Elrond turning instantly.

"Are you all right?" His hand reached for your hip instantly, trying to help stabilize you - if you had been off balance.

Your hand laid to his cheek, answering swiftly, "I'm fine," before dropping your hand to rest on his bicep, "but we've heard drums - in the deep. Sounds like there's a host on the march."

This sent the company into action, tracking the sound of the enemy over leagues of wooded area. By the end of the day, at dusk, you all gathered slowly on a darkened clifftop; watching in horror as legions of orcs marched down the beaten path to the sounds of their war drums. "Orc treachery," Rían cursed upon sight.

"That trail...?" Elrond questioned, letting go of his secure hold on you to lower in a squat, "I gather it leads to - "

"Eregion, my liege," Camnir confirmed.

"We came in search of Sauron," Vorohil narrated everyone's thought and question, "And instead, we find Adar?"

"Could they be in league with each other or... Perhaps at war," Elrond thought aloud, you shifting on your bad leg for a moment to readjust your stance among the trees.

"A legion of Orcs have marched into Elvish lands," Galadriel spat in anger, glaring at Elrond. "We are all of us at war."

Elrond agreed, "Word of this must reach the High King before our host sails for Mordor."

The silence was calm in a resolute sort of way, everyone just pausing to bask in their shock and awe. This was shattered when a distant Orc shouted, "There!" An arrow thunked into the trunk of the tree behind you, a horse neighing shrilly as it galloped through the forrest towards freedom and away from its pursuers. Just as the company turned to face the enemy, another arrow flew through the air almost inconspicuously, finding its mark in the soft part of your chest just beneath your sternum.

You grunted when the arrow landed, taking half a step back and wanting to cry out. Instead, you just held where the arrow embedded itself in your flesh. You felt dizzy suddenly, clothes and hand saturating with blood as the arrow had pierced through the aorta artery to cause major damage. Irreparable damage. Fatal damage...

In a whisper, Elrond told his soldiers in Sindarin, "Hold!"

In the distance, the Orcs were heard complaining about the horse escaping while a few random arrows were fired off again in a last ditch effort to wound the animal. If you did not move, the mangey creatures did not notice, smell, or sense you. But you couldn't form a full coherent thought, just understanding your injury, the looming grace of Death soon to kiss you, that breath was becoming increasingly harder to come by, and the pain - the pain was aching, soon spiking.

You did not mean to, but your fear was too great to ignore, and you stuttered in a whimpered gasp, "El-Elrond?"

His head snapped over, seeing the arrow protruding from your chest and feeling himself crumble inside. You were choking on blood, trying to remain silent - and they all saw that effort. How blood came splattering from your nose as you tried to subdue your noise, but that only made it harder to breathe; inadvertently choking, a groan strangled from your lungs just as Elrond reached you. He held you to him with his chest and single arm anchoring your waist, the other lifting to lay his hand over your mouth as Galadriel glued to your other side for added support.

The company moved back several yards, covering ground swiftly before laying you down behind a natural outcropping of protective rock. You were struggling, unable to fight it any longer; hacking a cough, blood spewing, splattering, streaking down your neck, the pain insurmountable. Elrond's one hand cushioned under your head, tears in his eyes as he could only hold you as the Orcs were heard closing in, other hand once more clasping over your mouth.

Still, Galadriel was sandwiching you, wincing when Elrond's hand stifled your groans of pain as he strained himself to peak over the top of the rocks. When he lowered himself, your lover leaned his forehead on your temple and hushed in your ear, "I'm so sorry." Upon lifting, he met Galadriel's eyes, who had been examining your wound, only to find her's full of sadness. Her head shook with muted words - telling him whatever she saw wasn't good.

You whimpered lightly. The Orcs could smell an Elf.

You wrangled Elrond's hand from your mouth, "Lis-Listen to me - "

"Hush, do not - "

"Shut up and listen!" You hissed, keeping hold of his hand, "'M not makin' it outta this, love, you've gotta go. L-Leave me - "

"No!"

"Elrond. Leave me," you insisted, "and they'll k-know 's m-me they smell. Y-You have t'warn the H-High King."

"I'm not leaving you," Elrond grit.

You smiled sadly, "And I love y-you for that. B-But you h-have t-t-to."

"Not in this lifetime," he begged, a few tears falling. "Just give me time to think, I'll figure something out."

"Time... Is something we don't have," you repeated his words from earlier. Suddenly, Galadriel just knew something without words; a feeling; a sort of understanding that she could help in this moment. She heard you whisper, "I'm so sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. W-We should've had so much more time - "

"Please, don't say that," Elrond begged quietly.

Galadriel took a sobering breath and moved her hands to the base of the arrow; pressing enough to make you wince and breath in sharply. Elrond went to tell her to back off, but paused when The Ring of Power she wore twinkled in the dark night - seemingly pulling you out of that fatal twilight. Your breathing turned slow... Eyes clearing of hazy pain... Life breathing back into your flesh...

The arrow fell out, making all three of you gasp. Galadriel's hands fell away as your own shot to where your wound had been - finding it healed between the fabric the arrow tore. You looked at the Elleth in shock, breathing, "You healed me...?"

She just nodded, Vorohil speaking in astonished Sindarin, "Amazing."

"You're - You're, you are - ?" Elrond stuttered in shock.

"I'm okay," you confirmed, caressing his cheek as he beamed down at you in pure glee. "I'm okay, love, I'm okay; Galadriel, she healed me," you sniffled, looking to your friend. "Thank you, my friend."

"Of course," she breathed, the Orcs heard shouting in the distance to overturn every rock. With a look of shared understanding, Galadriel told Elrond over your body while you tried to mop up some blood, "Get to Lindon. I will occupy them as long as I am able. Get her up."

Elrond huffed through his nose, but did as bid - not like he needed to even be told in the first place. He gathered you into himself and stood, making sure you were stable before looking back at Galadriel; slowly squatting again as she wriggled the ring from her finger. "Take it," she breathed, presenting Elrond with the band of jewelry. When he made no move, she snatched his hand and folded the ring into his grasp, "Take it, Elrond!"

"What will you do?" He asked begrudgingly, storing the ring in a leather pouch for safety.

"Something foolish, probably," she smirked, nodding in meaning. "Now, go. Go!"

"Elrond, love," you whispered, holding your hand out for his and heaving him to his feet. "With me, c'mon, quickly," you advised the others, beginning the trek down a new path in the woods. As you moved, you realized that Galadriel's ring hadn't just healed the arrow wound, but the Barrow-wight's chain, as well, which helps remedy your limp.

A semi-safe distance away, there came a decently loud and abrupt boom behind you, and upon looking, saw the trees up in flames. It was where Galadriel must've been battling the Orcs alone.

In earnest impression, Camnir narrated, "She scarified herself to save us all."

Elrond came to a halt when he realized his company members were captivated by the sight of heroics in action. So he interrupted their dreamy thoughts by calling, "No, you are mistaken, Camnir." He stalked forward through his delegates, telling them in their native tongue, "She did not do it to save us."

Tension simmered over each member.

"What?" Camnir questioned.

Elrond turned away from the spectacle with Galadriel's fire, consulting the dark again, speaking with ramped distain in Sandarin, "She did it to save the ring." His hand reached for yours again, the two of you leading the company forward with him calling over his shoulder in the Common Tongue, "Hurry!"

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist