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A weird thought process/realization I came to on my daily walk. So, in Fable 2 you can’t actually die, right? You lose experience and stuff and get a new scar, but it’s not like Fable 1 where you straight-up die and have to start over from your last save. And the game deliberately points out that you “cheat death” multiple times.

But, being a game, you don’t have to really deal with things like spending a week healing from a severe gunshot wound or deep balverine cuts. But how does this logistically work in-universe? We know that Heroes/people with Heroic blood are more robust/can handle more than the typical human… but we know that heroes can die. They’re not immortal. But, throughout Fable 2, Sparrow/HoB basically IS immortal (until they’re suddenly not some time before Fable 3.)

So, either Sparrow/HoB is just INCREDIBLY lucky (ie. each time they get shot it misses vital organs, swords never hit any important tendons/arteries, they always land just right without breaking bones, etc.) OR, they have a Deadpool-esque healing factor where it doesn’t matter what you do or how much damage you cause. They. Just. Can’t. Die. Like, you shoot them in the head, they drop, and when you turn back towards the body they’re just standing there suddenly not dead and incredibly pissed off with a fireball in one hand, sword in the other.

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Just last one for the lads!

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you can love someone and still murder them in cold blood without remorse btw!!! the two are not mutually exclusive and to suggest otherwise is a very heteronormative point of view!!!!

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For all TEN Spreaver fans. I wrote this as the first chapter for a Spreaver fic I wanted to do. It's very short, but I hope it'll get me back into writing.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62425279

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Betrothed to death.

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Finally were sending him to therapy! :)

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found this gem in my ibis paint gallery

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Theres something about the idea of Sparrow and Logan's birth thats really hitting me.

Sparrow has been fighting their entire life, even in their childhood we see them having to resort to violence. They've spent their entire adult life stuck in the past, fighting entirely for the goal of avenging Rose. The future has never mattered as much as the past does, no matter how much Theresa whispered about it.

But now theres Logan.

For the first time, they do have a future that matters, Logans future.

Not the future Theresa tells her of, not the violence they've always known, not the weight of the world of the world on his shoulders.

Violence is an integral part of them thats so intimately woven into who they are as a person.

They don't want it to be like that for Logan.

I think thats clear in the way that Logan seems to idolize them, the fact that he chose to go on expeditions outside of Albion as opposed to being forced to. The fact that he seemingly was unaware of the darkness and the destiny laid for him and the hobw to try and stop it before meeting it.

According to Theresa one of their children is meant to save the world, but Sparrow has their first child, sees their son, innocent and yet to be hurt like they have, and chooses a different path, even if only temporarily.

In a way its finally avenging themselves, the child in them that was killed with Rose and replaced with a hero tormented by all thats happened. As long as they're alive, they'll keep their children safe from that same fate. They allow them to have a life outside of being a hero, unlike them. They allow them to have a childhood. They free them from the expectations that were held on them.

Logans birth is a huge moment for Sparrow for so many reasons, it's not just the birth of the first child, the one they get to be with the longest, but its arguably the birth of a new Sparrow.

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A HEART BETWEEN HORNS

Part One [x]

When I woke up the world was swaying. For some moments I remained laying in the softest bed I’d ever known, staring at a pale wooden ceiling I didn’t recognize. The knowledge of where I was hovered just out of reach. And I was content not to go looking for it.

But then someone cleared their throat, and I sat up so fast it made my head spin. I clutched at a carved wooden headboard to keep myself upright and fought to focus. The room was full of silvery moonlight from a large set of windows, and in the shadows I could just make out a tall sort of spindly shape. 

I froze. 

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” the shape said. Their voice made me think of cornhusks, of all things. The whispering, papery sound they made in the wind. “Now – please don’t scream, Princess?”

The note of uncertainty in their voice kept me calmer than I might have been had they sounded annoyed. 

“Give – give me a moment, if you would,” I said. And they did. Patiently waiting just beyond sight while I braced myself against the headboard. 

‘The hells,’ I thought. ‘You’re in the hells. It wasn’t a dream.’

Being asked not to scream merely makes you wonder why you would have. It’s a warning, yes, but not a very helpful one. And lord knew I wasn’t ready to be awake in a world where I was at the mercy of demons again. 

Not facing it wasn’t going to make it go away, though. So I let out a breath, and nodded. 

“Thank you.”

The speaker stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. My breath hitched in my throat, and they froze. But I did not scream. 

They were quite tall, like the Demon King, and long limbed. They also had spiraling horns that grew across the entire top of their head. Obscuring their eyes, and much of their skull. Of their face I could see half an aquiline nose, and thin lips. It was – startling. But not the kind of terrifying that I thought warranted a ‘please don’t scream’. 

We stared at each other for a moment. Well – at least I did. I wasn’t sure about them – they certainly seemed to be looking at me, even though I didn’t see any eyes – until I caught a glimpse of brilliant green fire. Not, not fire – two disembodied eyes floated above and to either side of their head, glowing. They were the size of dinner plates, perhaps, and lidded and lashed as if they were part of another invisible face. 

This time I did make a sound. A sort of strangled squeak as my stomach swooped and twisted. My hands flew to my mouth, and I clutched at my face despite how my skin prickled and burned. My breath came out my nose in harsh snorts, like a horse on the edge of its sanity. 

Two more eyes opened, much closer to me, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from shrieking. I threw myself backwards, into the headboard and drew my knees up to my chest. A terrible ringing was starting in my ears. 

“I am Ocludei,” they said, their second set of eyes spinning out of existence. 

“B – Brenna,” I replied. Forcing the new fear down where it wouldn’t choke me. They were only eyes. They were only eyes.

“Brenna,” they repeated, their tone almost like a caress. I shivered.

 “I… I apologize, I’m being terribly rude.”

They waved one silver bedecked hand in dismissal. “It is only to be expected of a human.”

I wasn’t sure if this was meant as grace, or to sting me.

Done waiting for me to settle myself, they bustled about my bed which I only then realized was shaped like a boat. I focused on the engravings along the side – horses and waves all tangled together – and Ocludei promptly snatched up my hand. I flinched, but they didn’t drop it. Rather turned it this way and that, muttering under their breath. 

“Your hands at least are untouched. I suppose that’s because he offered you his elbow.”

I blinked up at them for a moment. Then my free hand flew to my face. Or it tried to. Ocludei’s other hand darted out and snatched mine away before I could. 

“Someone said my face –”

“Hush,” they said, gently. “I’ve healed it already. Our dear King sometimes forgets how fragile humans can be.”

“Then why can’t I touch it? I already have. When I – when I saw your eyes.” 

“It will still be tender, and questing fingers have unraveled my spells before,” they said, unyielding. “I did not stop you a moment ago as you were panicking. I shall fetch you a mirror if you’re truly worried.”

Bit by bit my heart was beginning to slow. I let out a long breath, head craning to meet their floating eyes. Only eyes. There were worse things. Like whatever lay within the portal. 

“There’s no need.”

Keep reading

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@writing-prompt-s​

A HEART BETWEEN HORNS

My hands are locked around my satchel in a death grip, my knees pulled up to my chest. I’m curled in the corner of the carriage now, with no care for how improper I look. Perfect posture, ladylike manners – learning it at all was a waste of time. Because now I’m going to die.  

When the rifts opened along our borders, everyone in the kingdom knew it spelled trouble. So of course, when the first of the strange beings stepped foot on our land and began attacking the farms, we took decisive action. 

Everyone knew about the demon king, too, and the many countries his rifts have swallowed already. The tales of his merciless cruelty and violence had always been deemed too sordid for a princess. But I’d heard them anyway by listening to the men in the kennels, the soldiers in the barracks, or the cooks in the kitchen. They’d spoken of little else since the trouble started. And when I didn’t want to be noticed, none saw me. 

So I heard about bones broken, bodies twisted into new unholy formations, and the way all fair things became foul at the sight or touch of a demon. Let alone their king. 

We threw our soldiers against a never ending sea of demons. And day by day, they drew closer. The rifts opened wider, taller.

And then one opened at the edge of the capital city. 

You can’t imagine the chaos.

I remember my father’s hands shaking. The way my older sister, Desdemona went to stand beside him and laid her own hand on his shoulder. I could only stand there feeling numb. Uncertain if I was allowed to approach. I could put my hand on his other shoulder. I could. All three of us could have stood and watched the red light of the rift wash across our city. It wouldn’t have saved us, but at least we would have been together. 

But I didn’t move, and the moment broke. My father and my sister were soon claimed by the clamoring of the high council, and the palace guards. Bells rang across the colorful stones of our city, but no screams. Not after the first chorus that sounded when the air turned molten and split open to reveal that hell was on our doorstep. 

 When they left I moved to the balcony myself – no one stopped me or said it was too dangerous. Which was good, because I wanted to see our doom for myself. Facing what you fear is always better, I think. 

The square before the castle was filling with people, but I saw no monsters. No demons. And the city was eerily quiet. The rift like a malevolent yellow eye that stared unblinking at me and every other ant-like person swarming before it in silent panic. 

The rift wasn’t what I expected. I’d thought I might see an alien sky beyond the opening, perhaps a harsh, heat blistered landscape wreathed in flames. But instead it was almost like the surface of a soap bubble, full of shifting colors and reflections. 

I’d wondered what was beyond it. 

Now I was going to see. Even terrified and on the edge of what must be death or worse, my curiosity still writhed with wanting. 

“And what good are answers if you die from them?” I hissed to myself. 

Tears slid past my squeezed shut eyes. And I tried to think about something else. Like my family. 

I hadn’t seen them since the announcement at the council. My sister in her armor at Father’s side. My mother with her hand on his shoulder on the other. And me, standing a little behind them, near the three thrones. 

I think I’d had one once. But it had been broken, or unsightly, and taken away. I never felt brave enough to ask when it would be replaced, and so it never was. I simply stood and observed the court from off to the side, behind the curtains most days. 

“Our family,” my mother said. “Have at last finished negotiating with the Demon King.”

Her voice trembled at the moniker. No one so much as whispered his name. Names were power. And the Demon King’s was a siren call to any who spoke it – even though that wasn’t how the power of names was supposed to work. 

“We have come together and decided that we shall for the sake of our kingdom, for the sake of our farmers, our artisans, our soldiers and our other good people, to provide him the insurance he needs to stop his attacks,” my father continues. His voice was stronger. 

My sister looked back at me, her blue eyes – so different from my brown ones – calm and focused. She offered me one of her hands and I took it, feeling flushed and small beside her. I stepped out of the shadow and stood with them and felt like the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place. 

“Our daughter, Winnifred Joan Raphaelle Brenna,” I jolted as not one, but all of my names were announced to the hall by my parents. A horrible slide of fear extinguished the pride I’d felt to be standing beside my family. 

“Shall be the bulwark of our great country against these monsters. She shall go through one of the rifts and sit amongst the Demon King’s own council as his insurance of our continued armistice! Long live the Princess!”

Keep reading

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Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Original Characters, Hawke (Dragon Age), Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Fenris (Dragon Age), Anders (Dragon Age), Aveline Vallen, Isabela (Dragon Age), Merrill (Dragon Age), Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: mentions Sebastian, Canon-Typical Violence, No Beta Series: Part 6 of Anastasia's Story Summary:

Ana goes back to Kirkwall to see what's up. Who knew it would end with a fight to the death against the Arishok?

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On the herbs page, I added a simplified list (wealth, good luck, prosperity, healing, etc) at the bottom, with a note at the top of where to find it.

Notion Template for Witchy stuff

I  made a Notion template for witchy stuff, because I couldn’t find one that I liked. So, I made it myself!

Here’s the overview for it. Each subject has it’s own page(s) with information about the different things associated with them. I update it when I find new things to add, so it’s slowly but surely growing. So, if you’re of the mind to, be sure to check in for updates every once in a while.

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I added two new pages-

oracle spreads

colors

.

I added a few more to the herb page-

black Hawaiian lava salt

catnip

crushed eggshells

mugwort

orchid petals

pink Himalayan salt

rose hips

rose petals

white Hawaiian rock salt

.

added to-

chamomile

hibiscus

lavender

lemon balm

mint/chocolate mint

nettle

sage

Notion Template for Witchy stuff

I  made a Notion template for witchy stuff, because I couldn’t find one that I liked. So, I made it myself!

Here’s the overview for it. Each subject has it’s own page(s) with information about the different things associated with them. I update it when I find new things to add, so it’s slowly but surely growing. So, if you’re of the mind to, be sure to check in for updates every once in a while.

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I added a few more to the herb page-

blue salt

uva ursi leaf

meadowsweet

comfrey

dandelion leaf

star anise

witch hazel

yarrow

rue

yerba mate

nettle

butterfly pea

added to-

wormwood

Notion Template for Witchy stuff

I  made a Notion template for witchy stuff, because I couldn’t find one that I liked. So, I made it myself!

Here’s the overview for it. Each subject has it’s own page(s) with information about the different things associated with them. I update it when I find new things to add, so it’s slowly but surely growing. So, if you’re of the mind to, be sure to check in for updates every once in a while.

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Random Aesthetics

oc masterlist

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy, after mass effect 3 - Fandom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Characters: Female Shepard (Mass Effect), Garrus Vakarian, Miranda Lawson, Shepard's Father (Mass Effect), Shepard's Mother, Shepard's Brother mentioned Additional Tags: Wakes & Funerals, reception, cremation, burial, brother died, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Loss, Loss, No Beta Series: Part 4 of Mass Effect Collections Summary:

Shepard gets the call that her brother's dead. She's beyond devastated.

fanfiction masterlist

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Characters: Female Shepard (Mass Effect), Garrus Vakarian Additional Tags: Talking to past self, talking to younger you, shepard's tradition, Birthday, Birthday Tradition, Catching Up, Vague background, could be any background you want Series: Part 3 of Mass Effect Collections Summary:

Every year on her birthday, Shepard goes off on her own. Where does she go? What does she do?

fanfiction masterlist