#A Scarecrow Returns to the Fields

[naruto-auzumaki]

[AO3 LINK]

You would think that being the last member of a clan meant being the one to know everything about it, including its vast history, the ancestry, past settlements and clan feuds. Unfortunately, Kakashi has rather limited knowledge when it comes to the Hatake clan. His father didn't live long enough to teach him himself, and Kakashi didn't put much more of an effort in learning on his own time after his only parent's suicide. He had other things to worry about at the time, and then after that, he kept having more and more other things to worry about. The most he knows is that in the past, the Hatake clan were once farmers. To be more specific, the clan was a civilian clan, and while most if not all of the members knew how to wield jutsu on some level, they had focused more on using said jutsu for things like watering their crops, making ash and churning their soil with it, controlling the electrical conductivity in the soil, and summoning well-trained packs to ward away pests preying on their fields or coops. 

Having grown up during a time of war, Kakashi had honestly forgotten the knowledge. It was ridiculous to even think about. Imagining a life where he was peacefully using jutsu for nothing but ordinary, daily tasks was just not something he was capable of. Even now, he struggled to see himself doing it. To have Pakkun guarding a little fenced in chicken coop, Bisuke and Akino surveying the fields, Ūhei and Guruko herding sheep, Shiba, Urushi, and Bull hunting out in the woods… And Kakashi doing what? What on earth would Hatake Kakashi be doing on a farm? Hunting bandits? Investigating a crime scene? Watching over his cute little genin, of which he doesn’t have, completing a simple little D-rank, pulling weeds out of the field? 

He just can’t picture it. He could picture anyone else but himself. 

Which… is an idea. What sort of person could he picture taking care of a farm with a bunch of ninken? What sort of Hatake can he see doing such a thing? Not himself, and not his father, certainly not. Someone… who breathes in and genuinely appreciates the fresh air around him. Someone who runs alongside of his ninken with breathless glee, uncaring of the sort of picture he makes in doing so. Someone who loves life and the life he lives, someone who makes connections without even thinking about it and who can smile widely in the face of strangers without any suspicion. 

Body moving on its own, Kakashi finds himself hunting a buck. He works quickly, preserving most of the meat, and mixing up a bit of yummy dog chow for his pack, using leftover meat and some other edible flora he’s picked up along the journey. Then, he works on the hide, making a couple shadow clones to assist. It’s lengthy work, taking too much time for someone who just abandoned his village, but then again, he doubts the village will notice his absence any time soon, so it is time that he fortunately can spare. What he has planned will take days, and he predicts people will be coming after him in about a… week, possibly. He’s far enough away that he can spend the next five days without interruption. 

It’s a long five days. He scrapes the hide clean, soaks it in a river, wrings it out, brains it, softens it, then smokes the results. For the normal civilian, this would be incredibly labor intensive, although Kakashi finds himself having an easier time of it. Even still, it’s not something that can be rushed, and while he’s working on his spontaneous side-project, he has to spend some time working on building himself a camp that will last for the next five days, carving some wood, digging out pits, making a tent, etc. 

There’s also the awkward tension between him and his ninken that he needs to work on. If he had summoned Pakkun alone, he likely wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss, given how he seems to be acting completely normal. The rest of the pack, however? You could almost describe them as skittish. They subtly look at him from the corners of their eyes when they think he can’t see, leaving space between them and him. It’s understandable, if he sorts through his memories of this life. He’s acting much differently than they’re used to. Less broken, he supposed. 

They’re not unhappy about it, that much he can tell. Likely, they just can’t tell whether this is a permanent change or not. They don’t want to get their hopes up. Which is painful, because he knows there have been times in the past where they had gotten their hopes up, only to have that hope mercilessly crushed not long afterwards. And he was the one to do that, intentional or not.

There had been times where he was just on the cusp of healing. Of taking that step forward towards bettering himself. And inevitably, he would turn his back on the thought, scoffing at the idea that someone so shattered could piece themselves back together. Honestly speaking, he was almost suspicious by how often it had happened. Not that it mattered anymore, of course, but it was still suspicious. 

Oh well. 

In any case, he’s aware that the tension between him and his ninken will likely continue for some time. The best he can do is leave them out for as long as possible, getting them used to his presence. And slowly, they do, if only marginally. By the end of the fourth day, he notes that his pack has inched closer to him than they had previously, surrounding him on all sides as he worked on carving out a wooden base for a mask. He was lucky to find a black walnut tree, one which had lost quite a large, sturdy branch. He’d gathered quite a few walnuts, and enough wood for more than just his current project.

By the end of the fifth day, his deer hide has been smoked, and he gingerly applies a portion of it to the wooden mask base he had carved. It only covered the upper half of his face, so he was left with quite a bit of hide left over, which he decided to store for the time being. Processing the hide was long enough after all, and he needed to get moving soon. In the end, he’s got a canine-inspired mask, with simple seals applied to it that allows him to see through the wood and leather, rather than needing holes to see through.

It’s obviously not the first time he’s made a disguise for himself. He’s been disguised as both male and female servants, as photographers and entertainers, unfortunate souls from the slums, high-end Geisha, and every other role you could think of in-between. It wouldn’t even be the first time he’s made a role without much thought of a backstory, really. He knows how to improvise, and how to keep his story straight despite unplanned details. 

But something feels different. Putting on this mask, one he took the time to carefully craft with his own two hands, felt entirely unlike any face he’s worn before. It’s something new, something refreshing. 

“Arata,” he whispers. His ninken perk up, looking towards him with interest. It occurs to him that he hasn’t said a word to them since he had first summoned them five days ago. “My name is Arata, now.”

Pakkun looks over his shoulder, having been previously napping by a tree. A singular eye roves over his form, and the pug huffs. 

“Arata could have made the mask cuter.”

“Oi,” Kakashi pouts, and oh they definitely can see it now. He can’t exactly deny that he pouts when it’s in full view for everyone to see. “The mask is cute!”

“You look like a fox,” Ūhei snickers. 

“None of you appreciate my artistry,” Kakashi sniffs. He’s prepared for the onslaught of scents that brings. “It’s a husky. Clearly.”

“Clearly,” Akino says sarcastically, getting a few laughs out of the pack. Kakashi feels bullied. 

“Arata is above this,” he tells himself, taking in a breath and getting into character. “No shame here! I don’t care what any of you think! Arata is happy with his mask and will be happy no matter what you say!”

The pack laughs even louder then, closing in on him and crowding his legs. He dutifully ignores them, and starts moving. Time to get rid of any traces of a camp, then get going.

#A Scarecrow Returns to the Fields #Kakashi #Hatake Kakashi #Kakashi Hatake #naruto #naruto tag

[heartfullofleeches]

Pumpkin Panic

Trickster Scarecrow Darling-

A wandering spirit of the forest who not as malicious as their fellow ghouls. They tire of tricking lost wanderers deeper into the forest and venture out themselves despite the pleads from the weeping woods.

"Don't go..."

"We'll miss you...."

"We worry for you, Y/n..."

The spirit comes across a doll in their travels made of cloth and hay hanging in a lone field. When they returned to ask the others, they told them it was deceitful tool used by the humans to scare off crows and other creatures attempting to feast from their crops. "How rude." - the spirit thought. They loved those little birds and their beady eyes. They used to feed ones scrounging for food and they'd bring them such lucky trinkets in return.

The spirit asks the scarecrow for permission to use it and chooses the field as their new home. They take as little from the land as possible to avoid question from its owners as they fed the small creatures who ran about. The resident of the farm was a grumpy farmer missing their left eye. The scarecrow stood completely still whenever they came to inspect their crops as warned by the others and their little crow friends, but the other humans seemed to unaware of this lesson. They watched from high on their post as they ran through the mazes of corn - unable to see through the tall stocks. The farmer would leave their home carrying that large stick as they did every night and wait at the mazes exit. The crows always flew south whenever they took aim.

The very next day, the scarecrow would find a new doll in themazes. They knew it was a doll because humans move and are very warm which the dolls were not.

"Good evening" - The scarecrow greeted. No response.

"Are you broken?" They spoke again to yet again met with silence. Silly scarecrow. They couldn't talk because they didn't have heads! As the seasoned changed they had watched the farmer take those large, round vegetables in the fields and craved silly faces into them to place around the farm. Maybe they could do the same. The scarecrow gathered tools from the shed and made new heads for all their new friends. The doll's refused to speak no matter what question they raised. Perhaps they were shy. As the days grew colder and their loneliness set in the sad scarecrow sought to give up on their mission.

Until one day-

"We.. came to see you."

"Home isn't home without you with us."

"We have always loved you, Y/n."

"Anywhere is home so long as we're with you.'

It was everyone from back home! They had felt the sorrow of their little wandering trickster and came to comfort them in new form. The scarecrow was so happy. Now that everyone was here and chose to stay they'd never be alone again. They even managed to get the farmer to leave their home for a time so the scarecrow could try out their bed. The scarecrow had watched the farmer care for their land and knew just what to do while they were away. Overtime the spirit became bound to the scarecrow and feel things just like a real human. They ate fruits and corn with all the little crows as they'd always dreamed. The other spirits made sure their smiles lasted eternity and a day and even brought them new dolls to fix every blue moon. The scarecrow finally had their happy end.

But the same could not be said for those who trespassed on their new land.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere zombie #yandere teratophilia #Scarecrow reader

[aroayr-shuk]

Reverse Robins AU!

Damian | Timothy | Jason | Dick

• Early Life:

Timothy Drake was left alone for most of his childhood, locked away in his parents' manor he learned how to pick locks and hack security systems to sneak out. He grew up with tales of Batman and his shadow, and when he was nine he began to research who they might be. Honestly it wasn't too hard to connect Batman and the Shadow to Bruce and Damian Wayne. What was hard though, was talking himself out of trouble when they caught him sneaking into the Cave.

When Damian cut ties with Bruce, eleven year old Tim stepped up. Tim fulfilling his life long dream of becoming a hero, and Bruce being given a second chance at being a father with a boy who chose him.

• First Outing:

While you could consider young Timothy breaking into the Cave as his first outing, the first time he appeared as his superhero alter was months after being taken in by Bruce. Batman was adamant that Tim did not have enough training in comparison to his first sidekick (and the other bats) to appear in the field. But when Batman was captured by Scarecrow, and Tim fought through his own fear to save him, Bruce decided it was time.

• The Name:

Tim spent his early days meticulously crafting his superhero name.

Nuthatch? No, that would be shortened to Nut.

Batboy? Juvenile.

Boybat? Worse.

Myotis? Sounds too much like mitosis.

Red Bat? Filing away for later.

Aves? Yeah Aves, short and snappy.

Tim often credits himself with the addition of red to the family color chart.

• Home Life:

Tim's home life was much less rocky than Damian's, Bruce put in more of an effort to help the boy who chose him. Actually taking an interest in his education for example, and pushing him to take an interest in Wayne Enterprises.

Damian and Tim don't have a personal relationship at all until they establish a working relationship. Their interactions outside of work are akin to that cousin you only see at family gatherings who you don't dislike but you never speak to.

• Independence:

When Tim was 15 he was benched. The moniker of Aves ripped away from him, due to his time as Joker Jr. His injuries sustained then, both physical and mental, made him unfit for duty.

After an event referred to as the "Incident," Tim returned to the life of vigilantism to support Batman as Red Bat, and briefly as Drake.

#batman #timothy drake #tim drake #red robin #robin #reverse robins #drake #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #batfam

[dailyadventureprompts]

Ally: Thatch , Teacher of the Heath

A marvellous mage outstanding in their field

Every group of heroes needs a sage to clue them in about their place in the wider campaign world and to set them on the correct path. For those too far from the big cities and their ivory towers, there’s rumours of a strange figure who dwells in a nearby village, a tutor made of sticks and straw who instructs children their letters between farm chores, and has an uncanny ability to predict the seasons. This construct is named Thatch, and they have been blessed with a mind that is seemingly all knowing.

Hooks:

Thatch is first and foremost a teacher, and while they’re happy to dispense fun facts and tidbits of information to anyone who asks, the party may need to ready themselves for some lessons if they want REAL lore. Perhaps the scarecrow will drag them to a disused farmstead and match them with chores they are most unsuited for, questioning them endlessly on their ethos while exhaustion and failure wear them down. Perhaps Thatch will send them on some strange errand, quizzing them when they return about all the choices they made and the perspectives of those involved. 

Players Might encounter Thatch at the local county fair, confusing them atfirst for a decoration or costumed attendant. The patchwork teacher was minding a few children for the night but the youngsters seem to have snuck off on them. Tracking the youngsters down gives the party a great excuse to scout out all the fun distractions later in that evening ( or to get the topography when the festivities are ambushed).

Background: Onceupon a time there was a farmgirl who dreamed of being a wizard. She had heard the stories about those great scholars who worked wonders and knew the secret names of all things. She was born with a curiosity about the world that she felt down to her bones, an ache that grew worse every year she attended the same country school that’d been teaching the same old lessons out of the same old books for what must’ve been generations.  Every year her parents, who loved her but had no money to send her off to some academy would buy her a journal for her birthday, a journal she’d fill up with questions in a few months and be forced to write in the margins to save space. 

Such an earnest desire for knowledge became a prayer, and that prayer was heard by the goddess Ioun, the knowing mistress, who loves all who wish to learn and sent a spark of divine kindness out into the world to give that farmgirl the teacher she deserved.  That spark took residence in a scarecrow and so Thatch was born, head stuffed with straw and cosmic wisdom , heart overflowing with a teacher’s love and desire to see their student thrive.

Further Adventures:

That first student’s name was Oroteia, and under Thatch’s tutelage she became a great mage, venturing out into the world to find the answers her younger self so craved.  Perhaps they’ll encounter her seeking out some forgotten library, ensconced in some great work of magic, or maybe she’s gone so far that they’ll need to break into her sanctum if they have any hopes of obtaining the aid of a powerful mage.

It has been many years since Thatch stirred to being, many children come and gone, their first student having long grown in to her own power as a mage and capable of finding her own way in the world. Thatch can feel themself unravelling, the blessing of Ioun coming loose from their cobbled frame. Perhaps they will fade into nothing, perhaps they will return to be part of the goddess and share with her all they have learned, perhaps the need will be great and they will burn themselves up saving their students, or lighting the way for the party to accomplish their great quest. Thatch is at peace with this, but Oroteia won’t have it and ever since her last visit years ago has spent all her energy devoted to saving her old teacher, delving into sorts of magic that perhaps she should not.

#wizard #mentor #sage #ally #field #Lowlands #Village #low level #Halloween #ioun

[alfredsolos]

Colin and Damian's dynamic and each of them as individuals really intrigues me, so I wanted to continue my "Damian Wayne HC's", with their relationship and my intrepretation of things.

(By the way, I already made a post about explaining Colin's character within the canon. He is a character who is very misinterpreted and most of the time written as a Jon Kent 2.0. So if you want to understand my hc's for him more, you can go into my 'Colin Wilkes' tags and see my posts about him.)

Colin is a stoic kid. Damian is a stoic kid. So they make a pretty intimidating duo.

They both are considered 'cold' but Colin is more 'silent-cold' while Damian is 'unhinged-cold'.

Colin has always admired and loved superheroes ever since Batman saved him from Scarecrow, so his stoic persona slips away whenever he comes across one. He also does not have a 'least favorite' hero. He loves all of them.

Since Colin grew up in an orphanage and every night went out as Abuse to save people, he is very protective. Damian, naturally, is very protective. So sometimes it gets in their way when they're trying to save the other during fights and they end up just messing everything up and fuck off.

Although Colin is very stoic, before he became Abuse, he was a very shy child. He had a closed-off sadness inside him since people mostly adopted babies or toddlers. He just knew that he was too old and would be without a family.

After becoming Abuse, he first hand realized how dangerous Gotham could be to the people and the children. This filled him up with a new type of feeling, so he ended up following his heroe's foot steps and became a vigilante.

Colin (canonically) found out Damian was Robin from a single back flip. His ability to stay calm in situations and assess really helps him on the field.

Colin and Damian never go to school together, never meet up as Damian and Colin. At least not at first. Their friendship is built upon duty and mission. The realization of them being friends come to them years later.

There is only one person Damian would not hesitate to tell any sorts of secret, and that's Colin Wilkes. He just knows that no matter what, Colin would never judge him or admonish him for his flaws and mistakes.

Colin rarely sees Damian's other siblings, but Damian feels like Colin isn't very interested in them despite being a superhero fan. Which in return interests Damian. He never really understands why.

Colin is not very interested in Damian's siblings because they are so unlike Damian, it becomes very uncommonly common. Sure he likes them and admires their work very much. But they simply don't fight, think, joke or understand him like Damian.

What really intrigues Colin about Damian is that his character is exactly opposite of what a hero 'should' be. He is brash, agressive, hilarious in a fucked up way, dangerous, scary, theatrical, uncaring and scarred. He is such an uncommonly uncommon person that Colin just can't help but be his friend.

Best part of being Abuse to Colin is branding criminals' faces. He isn't sadistic really, but it gives him a deep pleasure doing it.

Damian thinks branding criminals is genius, although he refrains from doing it. Branding isn't really a Bat type of thing.

Colin doesn't really get along with Jon. Jon tries to befriend him and Colin knows that he is a good kid. But befriending Jon (or any other friend of Damian) means patrolling the streets as a trio rather than a duo. He can't really explain it, but it just feels wrong to imagine Damian in a three person group. He isn't jealous or anything, he is perfectly fine with Damian patrolling with Jon. It's just that he feels like, with Damian, it's supposed to be a duo. Bringing a third person messes up the dynamic for him and Damian.

After Alfred's death, Damian (canonically) ends up leaving the Manor and continuing on his own. And for a while Damian and Colin end up living together. These are the times where they really see what they mean to each other.

Damian sometimes really struggles to see or understand what really Colin is to him. A friend, ally, rival, lover, brother? He really doesn't know. What he knows though is that Colin means so much to him and that he will keep being at his side as long as he's allowed.

When someone hurts Colin, he will hurt them as much as they hurt him. An eye for an eye.

When someone hurts Damian, he will hurt them ten times more and they'll regret ever touching him.

Although Colin is a Batman fan, he doesn't have his moral code. He won't go out of his way to kill someone, but if they do end up dying he won't care as much as he should.

When Damian was a kid and would kill someone, he wouldn't feel anything. After Bruce's influence, in those rare times that he kills someone, all he hears is his father's voice in his head. So sometimes he wonders whether he is a bad person for feeling remorse because of his father and not for actually killing someone.

Both Colin and Damian aren't touchy people.

Colin isn't a touchy person because he rarely got them when he was little and now he just doesn't find the appeal in it. He doesn't really care or desire for it as much as other kids.

Damian on the other hand basically has haphephobia (fear of touch). He doesn't trust anyone to get that much close to him. Although he doesn't feel pain from touching, he feels lightheaded and reflexively presses his arms into his body as close as he can. This of course makes him uncomfortable. And in extreme cases, flashbacks and bad memories fill him up.

So these were some of my hc's for Colin and Damian. I don't know what you guys think of their relationship (whether it's romantic or pure friendship) so think of these as anyway you want.

#dc comics #batfamily #batfam #damian wayne #dc #bruce wayne #batman #abuse dc #dc abuse #colin wilkes #damian wayne headcanons #damian wayne headcanon #colin wilkes headcanon #colin wilkes headcanons #jon kent

[hersurvival]

When I was a teenager, I remember a large stop sign went missing from one of the backroad intersections.

Not hit and fallen over but gone.

It was a small town, always a slow news day.

That same night, a local farmer's mannequin-turned-scarecrow was stolen out of his field.

Father forgive me for the confession I am about to admit, for I have sinned.

I won't say how but two days later, that large stop sign ended up on my bedroom wall and I covered it with bumper stickers.

I can't say who, but the same kid who put a stop sign, post and all, in the back of his car,

Might have also jumped a fence empty handed, returned with a mannequin.

One week later, I was the designated driver as he ran it back into the field before an investigation ensued.

Tell me, how many Hail Mary's that is.

@nosebleedclub April 12th - Road Sign

#nosebleedclub #writing #poets on tumblr #poem #poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled poem #spilled writing #writing prompt #original writing #road sign

[sanctum-of-ramshackle]

“Nothing to be afraid of.”

[TWST AU]: In this timeline, this certain MC/Yuu is something ancient and shouldn’t be provoked.

[Gender Neutral MC/Yuu]

[Synopsis]: What happens if an MC/Yuu from League of Legends happens to be a bringer of great fear and repeats the last words of its victims? Well, you earn a “scarecrow” like being who would likely to chew you alive.

[(A/N)]: Fun fact about this Fiddlesticks rework, it was voice acted by Kellen Goff which he is famous for voicing Funtime Freddy from the FNAF franchise and other works like Overhaul from BNHA, etc. Feels like my childhood cringe is haunting me like this LOL champion.

Fiddlesticks, one of most fearsome champions people insisted that the creepy creature from folklore is true.

Many warned others to stay alert and never let this demonic being get to you.

Though, they don’t believe the monster was real as it’s just stories to scare the listeners, children specifically to be careful.

It is real as you’ll witness the horror it brings upon.

If it has gotten you, it’s your last words against the next victims.

There’s just one question.

How did it get summoned to Twisted Wonderland?

~

Crowley would actually be the one to retrieve the “missing student” before the dorm selecting ceremony ends.

As he reached to the room full of floating coffins he saw Grim hidden in one of the many, shaking in fear.

Crowley: Great Seven! Why are you staying in there?

Grim: I can’t leave.

Crowley: You have to. No unsupervised familiars are allowed until-

Grim: Not now! Something came in here and…

Then noises of metal scraping against the cobbled stone flooring.

Squeaking of rusted joints echoed through the halls.

As Crowley and Grim look back at the open doorway, a figure dashes across as a blur to their fields of vision.

Grim: I told you!

Crowley: The students.

Crowley and Grim, as he was being carried by the Headmaster, ran as fast as they can to return to the ceremony before something goes wrong.

As they enter into the Mirror Chamber, all students and their Dorm Leaders were hiding behind the Dark Mirror.

Crowley: Students, why are you hiding behind the mirror?

Riddle: Headmaster, there was a…a scarecrow.

Crowley: Pardon?

Jamil: It’s not only a scarecrow. It was sentient.

Vil: It was ghastly when it appear before us.

Epel: It was welding a sickle! It’s gonna kill us all!

Crowley: Calm down, I do not see any sign of a scarecrow anywhere.

[As Crowley continue speaking, a tall figure then starts looming over the headmaster. It’s head croaking eerily, eyes illuminating a glowing crimson, and a jaw unhinged with rows of razors. Students were trying to sign him to stop talking.]

Crowley: Now stop gesturing to me. A scarecrow could never hurt me.

Fiddlesticks: A scarecrow could never hurt me.

On cue, Fiddlesticks attacks at Crowley, swinging its extended metal limb in full force, hitting him to crash into a wall.

Students screamed in horror and some ran out of the chamber.

Others were frozen in fear watching this nightmarish entity attacking others.

Some carried the unconscious Crowley out of the scene while dodging the crowd thrown at them.

Fiddlesticks: Don’t be scared, it can’t hurt you!

Kalim: *Crying out of fear* Yes it can! *Blindly uses Oasis at it*

[The demonic being dodges his Unique Magic swiftly. It then hurls itself towards Kalim with an unhinged mouth filled with razor blades of teeth.]

Fiddlesticks: Fiddlesticks is just a fable!

Riddle: *Throws in a fire spell at Fiddlesticks*

[It got attacked and severely burned. Fiddlesticks tears open its chest cavity gruesomely.]

Ace: Oh what?!

[As the body falls limp, an orb of dark energy leaves from the chest and flies around the husk of the former shell. It uses more force to drag its puppet away from everyone. Leaving the scene.]

Ruggie: You think it’s over?

Leona: No. It will come back.

Ever since that night, NRC staff members became highly alerted if that monster comes up.

They have to install security all around the school and students were enrolling more on Protection Magic classes.

No worries though, Crowley found somebody who is an expert on demons like Fiddlesticks, oddly enough.

MC/Yuu: I’m MC/Yuu. Hope we can get along.

Grim: *Feels hostile towards them* I don’t think so.

MC/Yuu: I have tuna cans.

Grim: Okay! You’re cool.

[11:35 p.m.]

Malleus: *Strolling late one night*

[A baby’s cries echo through the forest at the edge of NRC]

Malleus: *Curious and slightly concerned* A baby? *Follows the sound*

[The cries grew louder and a dimly lit lantern can be spotted from afar, swinging in movement.]

Malleus: Why would a baby be abandoned here?

[The lantern shun brighter as Malleus gets closer to the noise. He can spot a basket fit for an infant and the the source of light illuminating the area. As he reaches closer, the illusion shatters. The cries became distorted and Malleus turns to look at the direction to where the sound is coming from.]

Fiddlesticks: *Stands still with its lantern sway left and right*

Malleus: What kind of being are you? *Slowly walks backwards not losing focus on the scarecrow*

Fiddlesticks:

[7:35 a.m.]

Ace: Did you guys hear what happened?!

Deuce: Ace, it’s too early for your shit.

Ace: The Malleus Draconia was attacked last night!

Jack: Seriously? What could have attacked one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland?

Epel: Could it be that scarecrow monster?

Sebek: I WILL NEVER FORGIVE THAT MONSTROSITY FOR HARMING WAKA-SAMA!!! Human!

MC/Yuu: Sebek, what?

Sebek: Are you or are you not finding a solution to stop this madness?

MC/Yuu: I need more time to find out how to stop this demonic entity.

Jack: You may need to hurry. Everyone is anxious about the monster.

MC/Yuu: I know. I know.

[During Chapter 5]

Overblot!Vil: I’m the most beautiful of all!

MC/Yuu: *Struggling to breath* This poison…I can’t… *Falls on their knees*

Rook: Mon Trickster!

Epel: MC/Yuu!

MC/Yuu: I can’t hold back.

[MC/Yuu fell unconscious for a moment, their body starts to transform.]

Overblot!Vil: *Startled from watching the transformation* No, it cannot be.

Fiddlesticks!MC/Yuu: *Contrasts their body to a taller form, revealing they’re the infamous Fiddlesticks* No, it cannot be. *They shrieked out and attacks OB!Vil with their sickle*

[After the battle]

Vil: *Knocked unconscious*

Deuce: *Horrified by his friend* You are…

Fiddlesticks!MC/Yuu: It’s hard to keep control.

Sebek: Why did you attack Waka-sama back then?!

Fiddlesticks!MC/Yuu: Control, Sebek. I couldn’t hold on that time. It’s using my body as a vessel. I’m sorry for the mess I created.

Fiddlesticks!MC/Yuu: *Standing around in their usual pose*

Fiddlesticks!MC/Yuu: Every time. I’ll lose an arm during the hunts someday…

Floyd: *Trying to squeeze Fiddlesticks!MC/Yuu*

Fiddlesticks!MC/Yuu: *Easily pulls off Floyd from their body and tosses him aside*

Floyd: *Laughing maniacally*

Azul: I told you to stop squeezing them. They’re dangerous.

Floyd: But they’re fun.

Fiddlesticks!MC/Yuu: Only because I’m holding back my primal instincts.

✨[Reblogs are appreciated and helps create more content]✨

[Tagged]: @redrage71890 @tempvstas @riddle-simp @the-dumber-scaramouche

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #twst au #League of Legends #twisted wonderland mc #twst mc #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #Fiddlesticks!MC #Fiddlesticks!Yuu #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

[mintywolf]

She can’t blame them for wanting to tear down the ivy from the barn. After all, it had tried to eat several of her friends the first time they had visited it, in the other here. But at Laudna’s insistence, they have left it climbing on the walls of the cottage. She likes the wild, overgrown look of it, and the reminder of the passage of time in its reach.

Chetney has repaired the roof, loudly decrying the state of the timbers all the while, and there’s now a fresh cover of fragrant heather thatching. Thanks to Orym the new window boxes are full of violets and petunias, and the flowerbeds beside the door lined with columbine and the long stems of purple and blue larkspur and hollyhocks. Fearne, in the shape of a mossy-hoofed water buffalo, has turned over one of the dormant fields to make a vegetable patch, and there’s an herb garden in progress by the kitchen door. Ashton has contributed a scarecrow in the gangly shape of the Nightmare King and evened out the cobblestone path. Imogen’s magic has determinedly cleaned the dust and grime of forgotten decades from the interior, and Laudna’s has mended what she could find to mend.

It’s surprising how much there was still there to find. A kettle left hanging on its hook over the hearth. Dishes still stacked in warped and lopsided kitchen cupboards. A blue and white quilt, mostly preserved from the harrowing of time, folded up in a blanket chest at the foot of her parents’ bed. A faded needlepoint Sun Tree in a frame on the kitchen wall. A rusted tea tin in the haymow containing a crow feather, two empty spools, a handful of mismatched buttons, a pewter unicorn, and other child’s treasures. A dented copper washtub and a washboard in the scullery, now home to a family of voles. A glass jar of marbles in a trunk underneath the rickety structure that used to be her bed up in the loft. Fifteen numbered markings on the kitchen doorframe, ending at her own height. Pegs on the entryway wall still waiting to receive the coats and hoods of the family who went out one winter night and never returned. It’s eerie, stepping into a place that has, like the rest of the world, gone on aging without her, but not entirely unwelcoming.

They clear out what she doesn’t want to save, or is beyond saving, and move around what she does, just so it’s a little different. With the kitchen table at a new angle she’s less likely to expect to see her mother there cutting apples, and instead able to think of Imogen kneading bread dough with her capable hands. Imogen framed by firelight as she reads on the couch by the living room hearth instead of her father in his armchair whittling. Imogen holding the other end of a blanket as they spread it out over the bed in the room that is no longer the place she would come running from a scary dream, but their own.

When the sun begins to set on a day of hard work they wave goodbye to the other Hells as they set off to return to Whitestone for an evening with the crew of the Silver Sun, docked at the skyport. Laudna wipes her work-grimy hands on her apron and takes Pâté out of the pocket, tossing him up into the air so he can stretch his wings. She slips her hand into Imogen’s as they amble around their farmstead, the late spring grass cool and dewy between her bare toes. Pâté bobs after them like a large and particularly ungainly bumblebee. In the soft-footed gloaming, beneath a sky the same color as her wife’s hair, everything looks both new and familiar at once.

(Read more on AO3)

And so I guess Remember Us is now complete! Thank you so much to everyone who has been following it for the past year.

💜🖤

#critical role #critical role fic #imodna #southerngothic #imogen x laudna #laudna #imogen temult #matilda bradbury #it’s done!

[thepenultimateword]

Spooktober Prompt #24

The scarecrow guarded the field. Day and night. Rain or sun. Heat or Cold. It was not the most impressive job for a golem, but if the witch had found it important enough to animate them for, maybe there was more to these twisted crops than they appeared.

There was also the crow. The scarecrow watched them through inked eyes every day, six feet of scraggly feathers and lanky bone relentlessly circling their charge. They stayed well enough away; the scarecrow had already demonstrated in their presence, their manner of dealing with thieves. So why did they return every day? What were they waiting for?

#creative writing #prompt #heroes and villains #writing prompt #short prompt #writblr #spooktober #am I shipping this scarecrow and crow person? #Yes I am #31 days of spooktober

[naruto-auzumaki]

AO3 LINK

Being thrown back in time and into an entirely different dimension is painful. His soul ripped out of his body and forcefully merged with another, one that is technically his own but different, shaped by diverging experiences and thoughts and personality. 

Kakashi is torn from his home, finally peaceful and prosperous, and ends up in a home similarly peaceful and prosperous but oh so different. 

The first thing he discovers is that he has the memories of the other Kakashi he was mashed into without his consent. And this Kakashi... Well, he never recovered. Not from his grief, not from his self-loathing, not from his isolation. He has no friends, Team Minato is alive and well yet has no part in his life whatsoever. He and Gai never truly build a bond, the Shinobi of the village tend to avoid him, and from what he can tell, everyone is of the opinion that he has no personality, no opinions, and is broken beyond repair. He is not included in conversations, he is not invited out for dinner or drinking or parties, and there is no one to think about his wellbeing. Not anymore.

Kakashi is... he’s done. He’s dealt with a lot in his life, and he cannot truly see himself staying in the village any longer. Especially not now, the village filled with walking corpses of his past, of a Team Seven who never had and will never have him as their jounin-sensei and likely do not even know his name. It will break him. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that if he stays in the village, he will break.

So, he packs his meagre belongings. There’s no Mr. Ukki, no bookshelf filled with bad literature, no framed photographs or handmade dolls or gifted scarves and blankets. He packs his weapons, what little non-perishable food he has, and other traveling necessities. He packs nothing of sentimental value because in this world, he does not have any.

He leaves, in broad daylight, completely unnoticed. 

It takes a week before anyone finds out he is even missing, only because a random desk worker tried to assign him for a high-risk mission and he never showed.

#A Scarecrow Returns to the Fields #Kakashi #Naruto #Hatake Kakashi #Kakashi Hatake #naruto tag

[scaryscarecrows]

Trent eyes the clock tower across the street. They don't build 'em like that anymore, not in the big cities. Too much money for upkeep.

"We're in position, boss," he says. "Just waitin' on you."

"Two minutes out. Any activity?"

"Nope." He knows better than to ask if the Knight's sure this is the right place."

"Good. Rogers, cut the cameras."

"I can't believe you didn't lead with the fact that I was gonna get to meet Oracle," Jimmy gripes. "I would have shoved you out of the way to get in the car."

"Dude, she's probably gonna hate you," Trent points out. Jimmy makes a shrugging noise and there's a faint tapping.

"Still. It's Oracle, man. Everybody in this field knows about Oracle."

Huh. Whatever. Trent's main interest right now is that removing her from the clock tower will force Batman to stop cheating and asking for help. It will also, according to the boss, spread him even thinner, wear the bastard down. And keep their drones safe.

"All right, cameras are down."

"Good work." Jesus Christ. Trent really, really hates the ninja thing. Scuff a boot or something, it's not hard. "Ages, take Rodriguez and head in; I'll meet you inside. Simmons, McMally, Chen, keep the cars running. Batman's going to be pissed."

Sucks to be Batman, then.

The Knight grapples upwards, vanishing in the city lights, and Ages shakes his head.

"Let's go, Rodriguez. Time to sell some Girl Scout cookies."

The door is locked. Locks are for suckers, and one good kick followed by a hard shove gets it open. The elevator ride is a tight one, but it's short.

If Trent had been expecting hysterics, he'd have been disappointed: the woman they're here for whips a pair of escrima sticks out from her wheelchair and flings one. Trent dodges it. Rodriguez doesn't and it hits him the head, knocking him unconscious, before returning to her hand.

"Come on, you bastards, come and get me."

Unfortunately, they're not allowed to hurt her. Not even a little bit, like a broken arm or a small concussion.

He crosses the room with full intent to take the sticks away when there's a zapping noise. A second later, fiery pain shoots through his side and are those fucking electric? Where is she shopping? Goddamn Bat.

"Give me those," he growls, making a shaky swipe for one. She smacks him, hard, and that's when the Knight drops through the ceiling right next to her.

"Watch out, they're--"

She's already jabbing one of them--sparking blue--towards his crotch. The Knight jumps back, knocking a photo off the bookshelf, and Trent takes advantage to tip her out of her wheelchair and onto the ground, only feeling a little guilty. The guilt's gone when she twists and flings one of her goddamn sticks at him, nailing him in the face.

"Sorry, Barbara." The Knight steps forward, and this time he grabs her wrist when she tries to hit him. "Nothing personal."

"Who the hell are you?"

He just picks her up.

"Take him," he says, nodding towards Rodriguez. "Meet me back at base; I want you to head Scarecrow off."

"Yessir."

#ficlet #arkhamverse #scaryverse #trent ages #arkham knight #oracle #jason todd #barbara gordon #liberties taken a little but dialogue does confirm that barbara did NOT go gentle into the good night #she took no shit from these assholes #she did indeed smack people with escrima sticks and they didn't like it #warm up

[monarch-afterdark]

Titan History: Scylla

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

While our inquiry into Janos Biotech continues, we return to the regularly scheduled "Titan History" series, where we break down all you need to know about the creatures we now share our world with. For today's communication, we look to the most recent Titan crisis and examine one of the casualties; the Lovecraftian scavenger, Scylla.

(Pictured above: Scylla rampaging through Rome, prior to being confronted and executed by Godzilla, circa. 2027)

Monarch Database File: Scylla

Monarch Designation: Titanus Scylla

Height: 341 feet

Weight: 20,000 tons

Nature: Bio-Corrosive

Behavioural Classification: Destroyer

-----

A colossal cephalopod Titan that appears to have crawled out from the depths of the Cthulhu Mythos, Scylla is among one of Monarch's more recent discoveries, noted as 'Titan 024' in our database. Her discovery was recent enough that, during the construction of Monarch Outpost 55, a proper containment field for Scylla was unable to be constructed. Some of the outpost's operatives erroneously believed she was dead when they found her dormant in Arizona.

Scylla is known to us as a Titan scavenger, able to break down the carcasses of deceased Titans and convert the nutrients into a lethal waterborne bacteria. This ability led to the implementation of new protocols for Monarch's pathology teams when cleaning and disposing of Titan remains. She can also emit an incredibly dense fog-like pollutant, which she uses to feed on radiation sources or cover her while she evades an attacker, and can emit liquid nitrogen from her body. The latter ability in particular has been cited for cooling down the Antarctic ice and stabilizing global sea levels.

Scylla is also surprisingly intelligent, able to take the wreckages of ships and craft them into temporary shells for her body, and is remarkably agile in her movements, enabling her to take on opponents such as Godzilla with ease.

(Pictured above: The Moai statues of Easter Island. It is believed by Monarch these were built by the Rapa Nui people to ward off Titans like Scylla)

Like with most Titans, not much is known about Scylla's activities prior to 2019 outside of what mythological records allow. It is known that, at some point, Scylla made landfall on Easter Island. Feared by the Rapa Nui people, they erected the Moai status as megalithic scarecrows to deter her, and presumably other Titans as well.

When Scylla was awakened by Monster Zero in 2019, she erupted from beneath Monarch Outpost 55 and made her way to Arizona's capital Phoenix, where she rampaged through the city. She was pacified by the ORCA device's activation in Boston, and was among the few Titans present to witness Godzilla become the new Alpha, bowing down to him as he roared into the sky.

Between this and her next known sighting, Scylla enjoyed a deal of popularity among humanity once Monarch's record of her went public, even becoming a trending topic on social media platform Twitter once her Greek origins were confirmed.

(Pictured above: Artistic rendition of Scylla engaging the United States Coast Guard and Godzilla over possession of a nuclear warhead, circa. 2020)

Around the end of 2020, Scylla appeared off the coast of Savannah, Georgia in search of food. Her hunger led her to a discarded nuclear warhead, which she fought with the US Coast Guard for possession of. Godzilla arrived shortly after and successfully drove Scylla away after a short brawl. She then made her way to a frozen lake at the tip of South America, claiming it as her new territory. Like with all other Titans, Scylla then returned to dormancy, seemingly under Godzilla's instruction.

She did not stay dormant, however. In 2027, Scylla was lured to the Kudankulam Nuclear Power Plant in India by a reactor beacon created by Skull Island trophy hunter Raymond Martin, who (as Monarch later discovered) wanted to use her to occupy Godzilla's attention so he could proceed with his plans for Hollow Earth. After feeding on the radiation there, she would travel to other locations around the world and feed there, Godzilla always one step behind her.

Scylla attacked the United Kingdom Nuclear Labs in Preston and the Aviano Air Base in Italy, feasting off whatever she could find. Her ravenous feeding had caused her to cease cooling the planet's oceans, and Monarch instead found that she was heating the areas she attacked, causing damage to the ozone layer. After an attempted trap by Monarch failed, she was finally cornered by Godzilla in Rome and killed by a point-blank blast of his atomic breath following a short skirmish.

(Pictured above: An X-Ray scan of Scylla, part of a compiled bioacoustic database Monarch has on all Titans, circa. 2019)

-----

And there you go! While Scylla's passing means we may not be able to learn more about her, unless new data is found or another of her species emerge in the future, we do take some pride in knowing some people out there came to embrace Scylla, rather than fear her as most would.

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark

#monarch #monarch after dark #monsterverse #godzilla king of the monsters #godzilla x kong the new empire #godzilla x kong spoilers #godzilla #titanus gojira #scylla #titanus scylla #godzilla dominion #godzilla x kong

[utapri-translations-uuuu]

Dreaming of OZ - Synopsis, Characters & Glossary

Translator's notes can be found throughout the text and are marked with an asterisk.

Do not retranslate/repost without permission.

Everyone has the magic to make dreams come true

"Now, here is a story about two strangers, The Scarecrow, The Tin Woodman, and The Cowardly Lion.

The story of their future begins."

Synopsis of the story

Theo and Terry are boys who live in rural Kansas. They were bored with their mundane lives and felt life had lost its purpose.

Just as they were wishing they could escape from the monotonous gray days, they were caught up in a massive tornado and whisked away to the Land of Oz.

In order to return to Kansas, the two decide to visit the Wizard of Oz, who rules over the Emerald City.

Along the way they meet Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, and Lion, and embark on a journey to make *Theo and Terry's wishes come true……

[Note: there is no mention in the Japanese text about it being only Theo and Terry's wishes, in fact, each character has a wish.]

Characters

Eiji Otori as Theo

A kindhearted and quiet boy. He used to live in the city, but due to his family's circumstances, he was taken in by his aunt and uncle.

Nagi Mikado as Terry

A boy who lives in Kansas. He is Theo’s best and only friend. He’s tired of living in the country and longs for the city.

Van Kiryuin as Scarecrow

Built in a field in Munchkin Country. He wishes to have a brain that can think for itself to turn his life around.

Kira Sumeragi as Tin Woodman

Made entirely of tin, he has lost his heart. He was rusted and immobile until Theo helped him.

Yamato Hyuga as Lion

A cowardly lion. He struggles with the difference between his image and that of the "King of Beasts". He joins the journey in search of courage.

Eiichi Otori as Oz

A great wizard who reigns over the Emerald City. He *is rarely granted an audience, and his true identity is shrouded in mystery.

[Note- In my opinion, they meant: "He rarely grants an audience", according to the Japanese text.]

Shion Amakusa as Glinda

The Good Wizard of the South, Quadling Country. He possesses mighty magical powers and watches over the group's journey.

Glossary

Kansas

A state with a thriving cattle industry located in the center of the United States. It’s also known as part of “America’s Great Plains” because of its flat terrain.

Munchkin

A country where nature is abundant and everything you see is blue. The Wicked Witch of the East ruled over the area, but peace was restored when Theo accidentally defeated her.

Silver shoes

Magic shoes worn by the Wicked Witch of the East. Theo, having accidentally defeated the witch, accepts them as a reward and sets off on his journey.

Red poppy

It’s a dangerous flower with the power to make you drowsy when you inhale its fragrance, and if you continue to inhale it, you will remain permanently asleep.

Emerald City

The city where the Wizard of Oz resides, everything is emerald green. The view is beautiful but artificial, and the population looks busy at work.

Emerald green spectacles

It’s necessary to wear these spectacles when entering Emerald City to avoid getting blinded by its brightness.

Quadling

The country where Glinda, the Good Wizard of the South, resides. It is very prosperous and full of happiness, and here the buildings are painted bright red.

#uta no prince sama #utapri #translation #english #he★vens #heavens #eiichi otori #kira sumeragi #nagi mikado #eiji otori #van kiryuin #yamato hyuga #shion amakusa #dramatic masterpiece show #dreaming of OZ

[mlmxreader]

Unbreakable | Simon Ghost Riley x m!reader

@xweirdo101x asked: Hello, hope you are having an awesome day/night

I was wondering if I could request Ghost x Male reader one of the prompts gave me an idea

What if reader was 'forged from war' in a way

summary: Ghost takes it on his own initiative to help a fellow soldier.

tws: trauma, war, death mentions, swearing, graphic depictions of self harm, blood & injury, mentions of psychiatrists, hallucinations

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

"He's absolutely unbreakable," Price grinned as he looked at you. Sat all alone on the field, plucking at the grass and staring into the distance, at something a thousand miles away. "He's forged in the war!"

Ghost looked at Price from the corner of his eye, and shook his head. "He hasn't said two words since he got here - did someone cut his vocal cords out?"

Price shook his head. "Not as far as I know. He seemed plenty talkative when he spoke to the psychiatrist."

Ghost frowned, and made his way over to you; his steps were careful, like he was approaching a feral animal, ready for you to lunge at his throat as he held his hands up and crouched down a few steps away.

He swallowed thickly.

"Mind if I sit?"

You didn't answer, didn't even look at him, so he carefully lowered himself to the floor; he didn't understand, he didn't know what it must have been like. To have no friends and no family, he had the one four one and Hesh and Logan. He had friends.

He had love in his life; but when he looked at you, into that far away stare, he felt sick to his stomach.

An unspoken pain. He had seen pictures of it before from over a hundred years ago, pictures of men who had just returned home from France.

He gulped, shaking his head.

Ghost couldn't fathom what it was like. To be born and bred into war. To know nothing but killing. To know that everything you touched would be infected by the disease you carried, the disease that so eagerly tore through countries; a disease that killed families.

Destroyed homes and vast landscapes. A disease that had scarred Europe a hundred years ago. A disease that had set countries on fire and destroyed them countless of times. A disease unleashed by governments. By kings and queens.

There was no cure, either the disease would kill you, or you would kill yourself before it spread too much. He sighed, lifting up his mask in hopes that you would see, he carried it, too. Maybe not as much, definitely not, but he still carried it on his shoulders.

He felt sorry for you, really. No man should have ever gone through that. Yet, the nature of war dictated otherwise; by the orders of kings and queens, by governments and by propaganda, young men were always sent to die in war.

Ghost couldn't deny that you were any different; he had read parts of your file, he knew that you were deemed reckless and irresponsible - you would never risk another life, but your own was a different story.

He had read about how you had begged an enemy soldier to shoot you in the head, how you had chased after a grenade in hopes of catching it. He couldn't think of anyone who had thought like that.

He couldn't think of anyone who had been so broken, so torn apart and put back together wrongly, by such a harsh disease. Shaking his head, Ghost cleared his throat.

"Hey," he dared to crack a somewhat shaky smile. "Why did the scarecrow win an award? He was outstanding in his field."

No reaction. His shoulders slumped as he tilted his head to the side slightly. You just sat there, staring out into nothingness. Like you were still listening to the drums of war pound in the back of your skull; the harsh sound of screaming.

The calls of dying men to their mothers and fathers, knowing that they would not return home. You brought your gaze down, and stared at your hands like there was something on them.

Ghost clenched his jaw.

You could still picture the blood smeared on them, how sticky and hot it was against your own sweat; you had sworn that you would kill yourself if you were to take another life.

Three months off duty. You had hardly slept. Hardly ate. You didn't deserve to, so infected that you knew, you knew what you were; a man forged in war, so broken that you knew that you had to punish yourself however you could.

You couldn't take another life; you knew that there was no real enemy, only men and boys forced into the very same things that you had been. There was no enemy. No glory, no victory.

You were not strong. You were not brave. You were not good. You were not someone to be proud of. You were a monster; your humanity had been ripped from your chest, all semblance of it snuffed out so many years ago.

Your hands shook as you let out a shuddering breath.

When you stood, Ghost did, too, and when you dragged yourself to the nearest bathroom, he followed; he watched, concerned, as you scrubbed your hands with a metal sponge.

Skin sloughing off and becoming sore and inflamed; he could see the water turning orange, and knew what he had to do as he sighed and came up behind you.

Gently grabbing your wrists and pulling you away from the sink.

Blood dripping down to his fingertips.

"Let me go!" You yowled, the sound harsh and heavy on Ghost's ears. "My hands aren't fucking clean yet, you stupid cunt!"

Ghost shook his head. "You just scrubbed the skin off, Sir."

"No I fucking didn't! Can't you fucking see they're fucking covered with blood?!"

"You did," he sighed, forcing you to turn around as he held onto your wrists. "Walk, please."

You growled and grumbled, tried to kick and scream, to bite at him whenever he was close, but Ghost managed to bring you to the nurses on base; they called for Price, and Ghost told him what had happened.

"He's not fit for this."

"Maybe not," Price muttered. "He scrubbed the skin off?"

"Right off," Ghost nodded, swallowing thickly. "Said they were covered in blood."

Price frowned. "Poor babe... he's only a year younger than our Gaz."

"Price," Ghost said quietly. "Give him to me - let me take care of him until... til he's ready."

Price nodded. "Sure... I need to make a call."

"Cap?"

"The psychiatrist," Price muttered. "He ought to know."

Ghost stepped into the room with you, sighing heavily; he looked at your bandaged hands, and frowned. All he could see was a child who was terrified; all you knew was war, all you knew was your hands being covered in blood.

All he could see when he looked at you, was a man who had known nothing but violence; so conditioned and used to it that you couldn't escape it. Even when there was none to be had.

His stomach dropped as he sat on the chair where the nurses usually did; his gaze unable to leave your hands. You were broken. Shattered and jagged pieces of glass.

He knew one soldier who you might have opened up to; Nikto, who had Dissociative Identity Disorder, might have understood better than Ghost did.

But he doubted that you would open up to anyone; you were just waiting to be given the chance to end it all. He shook his head.

"We're gonna be working together," he explained, "one on one. Just us. That alright?"

No reaction. You stared to try and bite at the bandages, so he got up, and he pinned your hands to your sides as he raised his brows slightly, frowning.

Unsure of how to help; he knew that Price had some old history books on things like shell shock, battle fatigue, combat stress reaction. Maybe he should borrow them.

Sure, they would have been outdated and even possibly completely wrong in what they were saying, but Ghost had a little hope that it might have helped; he made a mental note to ask Price about them.

He brought his eyes to yours, and sighed heavily. Your gaze was despondent, weary and unfocused; in that moment, Ghost could hardly believe it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to, either.

He wasn't looking at a soldier, he wasn't looking at someone who was brave, glorious, victorious; he was looking at someone who had seen war intimately. He was looking at a man who had been through too much; a man who had paid more than the price of a mile.

A man who could never come back from war. A man who had seen things that couldn't even be spoken about; children dying, fathers wailing as they realised that they failed to protect their babies from the jaws of death.

His stomach dropped again, and he felt something hot and wet on his cheeks under his mask. He wasn't looking at a soldier, he was looking at a dead man.

A man who knew better than anyone that there was nothing great about war.

He took a cigarette packet from his pocket, and was shocked when you took one and lit it yourself; at least you could still move like a human. At least you weren't entirely a corpse.

How could a human being endure so much?

#mlem writes #simon ghost riley x yn #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #ghost riley x you #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley imagine #ghost riley fic #simon ghost riley fic #ghost riley fanfic #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost x you #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost fic #ghost cod x reader #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost x soap #ghost mw2 #ghost #cod x yn

[romchat]

Ripe Town Ep. 1 visuals: Under the cover of light

I am absolutely LOVING the historical crime drama Ripe Town. It's moody, nicely paced, and has really solid acting. The show reminds me of a grimmer, more ruminative A League of Nobleman, and its restrained but equally masterful cinematography caught my eye from the first scene. If you're looking for a prestige drama, this is it.

I wanted to share some of the cinematography choices the show makes in its first episode that help set the perfect tone for a crime drama. Film nerds, there are so many goodies in this show.

Under the cover of light

What a great cold open.

The show drops us (literally) in a farm field with our main character, Qu Sangeng, and his partner, Gao Shicong. They are bailiffs who have been sent out into the fields to investigate the mysterious appearance of a scarecrow, and they soon discover it's the dead body of Sangeng's mentor, Captain Leng.

(Side Note: There's something intriguing about the way the camera lingers on this sea of gold as it swallows and propels Sangeng and Shicong toward the scarecrow. It's almost like the field is its own character with its own memories. I don't think this will be the last time the plot returns us to this location.)

We learn at the coroner's that Captain Leng had not only been strangled but also pierced with a wooden rod bearing the Confucian quote "My principle is unified." This inscription paired with the theatricality of the body's staging (in broad daylight, in an open field) lends a deeper meaning to the murder. As an officer of the law, it is Captain Leng's duty to uphold justice, so why else would the murderer distort a classic work of philosophy if not to indict Leng of some moral malpractice?

And to a certain extent, we can understand that indictment by how the show portrays Captain Leng and Sangeng's colleagues in the criminal court system. Just look at how these officials are introduced:

They're filmed in darkness or shadow, the use of low-key lighting giving each a suspicious air. The strategic use of props further reinforces our first impression of them as sinister, incompetent, and corrupt men.

It makes you think about what other crimes have been committed in these rooms under the guise of justice.

The virtuous (but unstable) lone cop

Given how the show portrays the police and court system, it's notable how our main character, Sangeng, is often blocked in relation to them. As a bailiff, Sangeng is intelligent and principled. When we look at the composition of his scenes with men in power, he is often positioned towards the other end of the screen with the vertical lines of beams or doors physically demarcating his separation from them. He doesn't share their ethics nor does he tolerate their power plays.

And yet in Episode 2, we see the usually stoic Sangeng display a startling amount of violence and abuse of power, similar to a colleague he had criticized for the same behavior during this episode. I'm curious to see if and how this investigation continues to unravel him.

If these walls could speak

Ok, my favorite part of this show's cinematography is its use of dirty framing. Look at these gorgeous shots:

Dirtying the frame is when the camera crew uses things like architecture, objects, or even people in the foreground to add depth to a shot. Ripe Town constantly uses windows, plants, etc. to frame our characters as they discuss the case, which is such a smart way of upping the show's creepy factor. It feels like there is always someone (possibly the killer?) watching from beyond the frame

But maybe even cooler is the constant use of background action:

Check out how often there are people in the background near enough to our main characters to observe but far enough to not be intrusive (or helpful). Throughout Episode 1, we see farmers, bailiffs, and other workers stand around as Sangeng works the case. Like with the dirty framing, there's a sense of surveillance but this time from the townspeople as a whole. It's the classic small-town mystery trope where you suspect everyone knows more than they let on.

I wonder if this notion of surveillance will become one of the show’s major themes: are people watching because they’re trying to protect a secret or are they watching because they're hoping someone will reveal and take accountability for those secrets?

Together, these filming techniques create a fascinating world where murder is committed during the day and secrets are revealed in the dark. I can't wait to see how the story continues to deliver more and more interesting visuals as its mysterious plot unfolds.

#Ripe Town #繁城之下 #Under the Prosperous City #Fan Cheng Zhi Xia #cdrama #bai yufan #meta #a league of nobleman

[froot-batty]

I'd love to learn more about your Jon! Any fun facts or tidbits about his lore/backstory you're willing to dish out for free?

i sure do! i'll just drop his whole backstory, since i've been meaning to anyway :]

Jonathan Crane was born and raised on a rural farm in the heart of Georgia. Contrary to what most might've guessed, his parents were actually really respected doctors/researchers, who had moved out there after having Jon in an attempt to have a family life. They quickly realized that they'd only had a kid out of a feeling of obligation, and they held no real love for Jon nor a desire to raise him. The pair of them were often out for what could be months at a time on "business trips".

This left Jon often in the care of his extremely religious and abusive grandmother. Jon was homeschooled, so there was no escape from her tyrannical rule over their house except if he stuck his nose in a book or ventured out into the fields.

Jon had always loved the crows out on his family's property. They were the pets that he was never allowed to get, and basically became a family to him. His grandmother was absolutely freaked out by the crows, and Jon eventually noticed. To get back at her, he'd sprinkle seed or other bits of food in places where she would undoubtedly see them and get scared by them. She was always going on and on about demonic forces and ghosts and the like, so eventually Jon took it up a notch and started dressing up as a scarecrow, creeping around the farm in the distance or even standing over her bed at night.

Seeing her turn from an monstrous, terrifying figure to him to the scared, frail old woman she was was quite a power trip for him. He became fascinated by the power of fear and how it revealed a person's true nature. And how it made him feel powerful in return.

The death of his grandmother was a complete accident. The power of being the scarecrow had gotten to his head so much that he confronted her head on, meaning to just wave his scythe around and scare the daylights out of her. But one thing lead to another lead to her gutted on their living room floor.

By now Jon's parents hadn't come back in over two years, so he neatly cleaned up her body, packed a bag, stole some money, and ventured out to Gotham City.

fun facts (and a doodle) under the cut, since this already got HELLA long

-Jon works at Arkham, very closely with it's director: Hugo Strange. Strange is aware of Jon's double life as the Scarecrow and they commit various wildly unethical experiments on the patients within Arkham

-Jon's leg brace comes from one of his first encounters with the Bat. It'd been bad since he had fucked up his knee as a kid, but after accidentally falling off of a roof while fighting Batman it just got absolutely destroyed. It'd have been too suspicious to go to a hospital, so it ended up healing wrong. Lucky for him he's got a high pain tolerance

-He and Ed met during Ed's first stint in Arkham. He thought Ed was fascinating psychologically and thus was his psychiatrist for a little while. Until he broke him out

-Oswald absolutely hates him. Jon doesn't like the little man but he finds the rivalry more funny than anything. The reason for it is that during the mayoral campaign, Oswald came to Jon for help creating something that would indispose his fellow candidate. After Jon refused, Oz got petty and tattled the location of his current hideout to the GCPD. A faceful of fear gas later and Oz's healthy wariness of Jon is restored

this is baby crane's first scarecrow costume <3

#frootverse #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #doodles