Did I plan on adding to the reveal comics I made? No. Have a prequel to this one anyway. Fully from our little Hunter's perspective this time, so no heartbeats in this one (just me going wild with lines from the fic).
Protective idiot hellbent on the belief that all cryptids are evil is confronted with the fact that 1) their buddies are what they consider to be an "evil thing" and 2) have proven again and again that they care deeply about them and protect them right back. That won't cause cognitive dissonance for sure! (:
@naffeclipse Hi yes hello I am still SCREAMING about the newest chapter literally every time I think about it too much I have to get up and move (made drawing this a unique challenge LMAO) I need to physically shake someone about it. Finally time to drop the lie I am so not normal about this fic
Lines in the first panel:
"Speak no more."
"It looks just fine to me."
You've never detected an entity this strong before.
He stays back as you flick holy water throughout the rooms.
[...] a pitch black flat face, circled by deep blue and blood red jutting angles [...]
"I don't know what you got in you that keeps setting off my equipment, but it is strong."
Its remaining three eyes aren't upon you but on something above you.
"They don't think, they don't feel. They exist to terrorize and torment."
"I think you scared it."
"We are scarier than it."
Somehow, he closed the gap between the two of you in a moment.
[...] nothing short of another threat could make it give pause [...]
Second panel:
You're grateful Moon is here with you.
"Breathe," he says, warm as sunshine, calm as the new day.
Moon lifts you off the ground, clutching you close around the waist.
Moon's optics frantically flick to you, wide in alarm.
You are first aware of cool fingertips stroking the top of your hair.
"We will stay with you," he murmurs in a tender tone that makes your heart swell.
[...] your electronically recorded gasp causes Sun to bristle.
[...] expose your shoulder to Sun, who makes a rather deep, unpleasant noise when you both find angry red marks [...]
You have each other. You're not losing that.
"I assure you, little hunter, I'm not leaving your side."
[...] kept anchored by the safety of Sun's hand.
[...] you squint to make out Moon at your backside, holding you close.
"You take care of the scary things."
"You won't be near us."
By the glow of his eyes, he almost seems to admire you.
Sun presses you to his chassis.
"We, and our soot, are at your mercy, little hunter."
It certainly wouldn't have lent a hand in taking down another cryptid.
[...] he flings it away from you.
Well, the slightest bit of intrigue, or is it confusion?
"You're hurt."
Because of him, you raise your voice.
He taps once. "You have a dauntless heart."
"We must come with you."
"That's what we adore about you."
"You kept me safe," Moon says softly.
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Tim Drake, to me personally, is a selective genius. More accurately, he’s just an insanely fast learner when something even mildly interests him (typically something mentioned by Batman and/or Robin). Unfortunately this leads to weird and inconsistent gaps in his knowledge.
Like, for example, and referencing a post about him being unable to work computers I’ve made in the past, Tim learned all about PC hardware because Batman mentioned upgrading the Batcomputers specs once, which was then plastered across forums with the title of like “BATMAN SEEMS TO HAVE THE BUDGET OF NASA, IS THIS WHERE OUR TAX PAYER DOLLARS ARE REALLY GOING?” and Tim wanted to harness the power of the sun to create something similar. This led him down a rabbit hole, and now he can create a super computer from someone’s spare junk drawer. However, when it comes to installing software and actually using the PC beyond its basic functions? Uninteresting. The only reason he learned later on in his Robin career was because Barbra found his lack of ability to hack deeply concerning and decided to remedy it. She provided the proper motivation.
Other weird ass conversations include:
- Was able to deduce the strain of fear toxin that Damian was under, synthesize an antidote, and track Crane down to his warehouse at the Docks district within a three hour time period. (Bruce offhandedly mentioned that they should start writing down the effects of different fear toxins so that they could eventually identify which was which to make antidote administration easier, knowing it’d be an insane and labor intensive task that no one would really do because they were doing just fine currently. Tim promptly created a spreadsheet, copped the cowl footage, and got to work. He learned advanced chemistry for this, promptly bringing his barely passing grade up to an A within two months.)
- Once was able to list the entirety of Haley’s Circus lineup over the years, correctly identifying which performers had been kidnapped by the Court of Owls, yet couldn’t name a single United States president before the year of 2012. (Got embarrassingly into circus performances because y’know, Dick is his hero and so he memorized the entire history of Haley’s Circus so he’d always know who/where/what Dick was talking about when he referenced his time there)
- Word for Word reciting an obscure peace treaty for an ALIEN NATION, but wasn’t able to tell Dick what the Fibonacci sequence was. (Starfire is Tamaranian and Tim assumed that she and Dick would get married one day and he didn’t want to be insensitive so he hacked into the Green Lantern files that all the Earth Lanterns update and got to work researching. Even the stuff that only tangentially mentioned the planet and people)
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @greypetrel @layalu @daggerbean and @zenstrike (Zen, I've decided I'm just going to post all fic things on this blog from now on, but I will post something that isn't Dragon Age c:)
Tagging @ndostairlyrium @heniareth @pinayelf @buchimgay @brother-genitivi @jtownnn @dreadfutures @inquisimer
I don't have a picture right now, but I've gotten the first two rows of purple onto the Leliana scarf and I'm really pleased with how the color looks so far! It's been really nice to do something with my hands in the evening, especially since I got hooked on a DND show I can watch at the same time.
Here are a snippet from some Mass Effect fic I'm still playing around with, then a bit from a BG piece I've been working on the last month or so.
From "Sure As Night," a ME WIP (535 Words):
The hum of the elevator to Shepard’s cabin had become familiar and comforting, in an odd way.
The rest of the ship sounded just slightly off to Garrus. It’d taken plenty of hits after they’d gone through the relay, had almost certainly taken some damage from that final blast. The Normandy wasn’t actively falling apart or neither of them would be up here, but the sound of the engine was just one more thing that was…off. Or maybe Garrus was just hearing things. Wouldn’t be the first time in the past few months.
But her elevator sounded exactly the same as always. It was…nice, for one thing to stay the same.
“Shepard?” he called. After a moment, the door unlocked and slid open.
It was not immediately apparent where she was when he stepped inside. Garrus glanced at the trail of water on the floor and followed it to the couch in the next room (top notch detective skills there; wouldn’t his father be proud of him now?). He saw Shepard as soon as he walked down the stairs, sprawled over the couch with her feet braced on the bulkhead. Her hair was tousled and darker than usual, water droplets clung to her exposed shoulders, and the rest of her torso was wrapped in a towel.
“Hey there,” she said, and Garrus blinked down at her.
“And here I was coming in to give a formal report,” he said drily. She grimaced and pushed herself up, raking her hair away from her face.
“Tell me that’s a joke,” she said. “Don’t think I can handle another emergency right now.”
She could, of course. They both knew that if there had been an emergency, she’d bolt out of here as quickly as she could and handle it. It’s who she was, after all.
“You ask the engineers, it’s all an emergency,” he told her. “But I think they’ll hang on for a little longer or Ken would be talking less.”
Shepard snorted and shifted aside, glancing at the open space beside her.
Well. He could take a hint. He just hoped she wasn’t about to tell him that last night had been a mistake. He’d been thinking about it plenty since then and he’d reached an entirely different conclusion. Racing through destruction with the expectation of certain death could do that to a person.
Garrus passed the last step and settled beside her as best he could. He still wasn’t used to the human preoccupation with these squishy pieces of furniture. Didn’t they ever get stuck? He always felt like he’d sink all the way to the floor if he sat back too far. He considered telling her this to break the tension and discarded the idea immediately. He could definitely manage better than that.
“How’s the arm?” she asked him, nudging the arm in question. Garrus shrugged and rolled his shoulder experimentally. After taking a rocket to the face, he’d found that his scale for pain was kind of shot. He hadn’t even realized there was something wrong with it before Chakwas had insisted on scanning him.
“I’ve had worse,” he told her, and she snorted.
“Tough guy, huh?” she asked.
“Something like that,” he paused. “And you? You took a few shots yourself.”
“I’ll survive,” Shepard said, looking at him sidelong, and smiled.
And (with a very different tone!) from a piece I am working on for Tav (234 Words):
Hope; a curious thing. She had been bereft of it for so long that its touch burned her then.
“Be welcomed, faithful paladin,” Lathander had said. “Be free of the bonds that held you. ”
“My Lord, I will serve you for all my days,” she had told him, and only knew that she was weeping when the droplets struck the hands she’d clenched below..
She had never been touched like this. Nobody had ever been touched like this, she was certain of that.
“You are mine now. The past is done,” he said. “Name yourself to me, Oathsworn.”
Octavia fell away, dead at last and free to rest. The woman she left behind took a deep breath. She had been a child once, and loved. Her family—her family had called her a silly nickname, coined by a brother with too few teeth to say her real one properly. She had left them behind too young, had left behind any hope of belonging somewhere at the same time.
But—she belonged here now. She belonged to Lathander, as she had once belonged to her family.
“Tavitha Hallowthorn,” she whispered. “I am Tavitha.”
“Tavitha,” the god said, already dissipating into countless flecks of light, each of them composed of all the shades of every perfect sunrise. “Be welcome.”
Octavia was dead. Tavitha bowed her head before her god and knew herself for the first time in a very, very long time.
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