sidekick.

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐚  𝐲𝐚  𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚  𝐛𝐞  𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐦𝐞...!!

[kenzikovaa]

                      ...BROWN CHICKEN BROWN COW?

- 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚣𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚘𝚟𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 '𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕'!  𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚢-𝚏𝚒 𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘.

- 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠! 

- 𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝. 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚒 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜!

- 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚋é𝚕𝚊, 𝚒'𝚖 𝚊 𝟸𝟾 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜.

[kenzikova]

                   GOOD! GOOD…   because normal people do not help out strangers. if you were normal,  i could be dead.   |   independent kenzi malikov.   re-established october of 2021.  21+ due to dark themes and heavy topics & content.  written by ilya.

[kenzikovaa]

webslings.

COMPLIMENTS WERE FEW & FAR BETWEEN IN HIS CAREER, especially when his neighbourhood’s media coverage was governed by one who hated him more than others. Webbed crimson stays tucked upon the bridge of his nose, lips covered in succulent grease from their cheap celebration meal  —  In this city; the cheaper the pizza, the better the taste. Lips parted to smirk slightly, appreciative of her way with words [𝗔𝗻 𝘂𝗻𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗮𝗻 𝘂𝗻𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆]. Digits gesture towards her in response.  ❛  The compliment is appreciated. I’ve got a few adjectives; badass is the first one under my belt. Thanks.  ❜  A beat, taking another bite of his pizza with a smile.  ❛  You’re not so bad yourself. Ever thought about your own ridiculously themed outfit?  ❜

❝          nah.  i tried to be elvira once for halloween,   but as it turns out momma ain’t got the tatas.   ❞    patting herself down to drive the point home, the girl flashed him another of her trademark, shit-eating grins.   she crumpled up her plate and tossed it into the green dumpster far below them, giving a miniature fake-teared bow when it bounced off the hood and landed in the can.   FUCKIN’ SCORE.   SHE’D PROBABLY THANK THE ACADAMY,  BEAU AND ITALIAN MOBSTERS,   for starters...

               but the time for games was over when she spun back around, fingers in her pockets and her head tipped down.   she toyed with the rolex watch that wasn’t hers, the lock to the neighbor kid’s bike chain.     ❝    beeeeesides, i’m not really the ‘‘hero’’ ...type... but, oh!  hey, while i’m at it        why spiders?  wouldn’t a unicorn be more kid-friendly?     ❞  

[kenzikovaa]

gonna be sexy when i revamp and do replies here.

[atlantaen]

 my  father  was  a  lighthouse  keeper    .   my  mother  was  a  queen    .    they  were  never  meant  to  meet    ,    but  their  love  saved  the  world    .    they  made  me  what  i  am    .    A  SON  OF  THE  LAND    ,    A  KING  OF  THE  SEAS    .    i  am  the  protector  of  the  deep    .    i  am  aquaman    .

independent  and  private    .    arthur  curry    ,    aka  aquaman    .    movies-  &  research-based  with  comics  influences    .    written  by  katherine    .

[furby-organist]

[kenzikovaa]

      @zadarnic​​  liked  starter  call.  

❝   мы   все   сожалеем.   пейте как все.  додна.   ❞   vodka on the rocks, bottle left beside them.  pale shoulders rose and fell with a soft and steady heartbeat.  the room would have been silent were it not for the faint buzz of CNN above the bar.     ❝   the man,   the government,   the library       there’s always gonna be someone else who thinks they should control you.  remember blockbuster?   whole thing’s a sham.   ❞

[kenzikovaa]

     @libertasis​   liked  starter  call.  

❝    give   me   your   word.   you can’t tell anyone about this..  the ..  that.    not your friends,  not your granny,  not your favorite hotdog vendor.    NOBODY.    if you do,   it could land us both in some serious trouble.    ❞   

 black nail polish didn’t compliment blood very well,   stuck to her face and shirt like she’d had a bad run-in with an explosive bottle of ketchup.    katana drops from her hand so she can rub her sleeve under her nose,   blocking out the stench of dead underfae and its quick-rotting,   pig-faced corpse.  why did they always look like pigs?

❝   man, you huffed and you puffed...   it really wasn’t this little piggy’s day.    ❞

[kenzikovaa]

jokethur.            ivan.

Alpha wolf bares teeth, though the delicate curve of his hand hides it. Cradling his cigarette spares her from those misaligned, chemically stained rows. A brisk breeze cuts ashes away from the tail. Then the street steals his attention: steam curls from manholes and subway grates, partially fogging the sliver of sidewalk that remains and the congested road. Antiquated rust-bucket vehicles battle to budge an inch. Each faded, barred, and boarded window hides a suspicious character. Sidewalk’s no different. Thousands of burning eyes hone on Joker, on the vandalism he stands in front of like a mascot. He pretty much is.

Smashed windows and boarded doors encompass them. Flint-sharp eyes cut towards each. He maintains his stance, though he angles his shoulders so a stray bullet won’t strike him square in the chest and the broadest exit remains his. Shaking hands bobble the cigarette in his hand, so he yanks the stick from his mouth and tucks it behind him. Then he laughs: cold, coarse, covered in barbed wire.

“*осмотреться!” Joker tosses his right arm out for emphasis. “You’re lucky no one’s wrenched your skinny ass into an alley…to take your wrist,” briefly he seizes hers — it’s that quick — then releases like he’d wrangled a marlin, “with the Rolex.” His attention cuts left and right, then he swings to the left so someone can pass by. “What flies across the river,” Jersey City…and Manhattan, “—will get you killed. In this shithole. **И у меня нет возможности остановить это.”

❝  hey,  watch  the  goods,  partner,  or   lose  some  fingers.  ❞     hand was wrenched back and held against her chest,   fingers clawed into the fishnet mesh sprawled across her tee.   that was her stealing arm.  how else was she supposed to lift shit if she couldn’t stealthy grab?   coming in hot,   kenzi stuck a finger up at his dumb,   painted face,   drug her hand up and down her side.      ❝   in case you haven’t noticed?   this?   takes care of itself.          figuratively speaking...  ❞

she’d been on her own since she was nine,  hitting the streets with anything she could steal to try and make end’s meet.  doing things that got her in a whole mess of trouble,  losing part of herself in the fight to make it out on top.  dog eat dog.  shit never ends.   frustrated goth twisted the ring around on her finger,   thumb pressed to garnet.    fine,   she’d stop stealing.    as if to make her point,   she ripped the flashy watch off and shoved it into her bag.   was señor no-fun happy now?   

❝   yeah?   why don’t you leave then?   what’s stopping you?   ❞    same thing that stopped her, probably.  even she couldn’t leave behind family.  not dima,  not ludmila. but ivan didn’t really seem the godfather type.    ❝  you’ve-- you’ve got money, you’ve got connections, the whole shit sandwich.        now can we stop hiding behind the trash heaps like a couple of axe murderers?  my stomach feels like its gonna turn inside out.   ❞

[lostgirlfaebles]

Lost Girl S4 E2 Kenzi and Hale.

Laying it down on the Crack Shack bench :P Choppin up some love  hahaha

[finewalls]

Visit Original Link

download

[kenzikovaa]

heartlanded.           luckycharms. 

      his eyes squeeze shut in silent irritation at the first consonant beat alone, for kenzi’s tone is merciless. miss, again. unlike sorry! & scrabble, battleship has him beat. or else, kenzi is simply very good at this game. in the grand scheme of things, it’s not exactly important. but there are a great many things that can be said about angels, —— surprising no one, the term good sport is not on the list. 

       he raises his gaze to kenzi’s —— & his frown speaks for itself.    “ … uh, yes. you got it. the whole boat. ”   there’s a phrase he’s supposed to say, right? the ship has sunk, you have sunk my ship, or something along those lines. he puts yet another red pin on his board, contemplating what his next guess will be. the atmosphere in the room is mellow, but not unpleasant. it’s just … quiet. boring? but at least he has company. wrapped up in a warm sweater, with an even warmer blanket draped across his shoulders, he thinks: this may be one of the most human, ordinary things he’s done.   “ you know, as far as human entertainment goes … i think ‘ trash tv ’ still ranks among my top forms. ”

❝   what     can     i     say?     some of us are just born gifted,   lucky charms.  your move,   though.   maybe you’ll snag me.    ❞   in went the little red peg,   pressed nice and tight into the freighter.    score for kenzi,   though he’d actually hit quite a few of her ships... even if she had elected to lie about that little fact.    for all he knew, she was just a battleship god.   

a pale hand reached for another handful, and once kenzi had scarfed it down the cheeto dust was rubbed against her jeans.     ❝   oh yeah?   y’ever seen an episode of supermarket sweep?    trust me, bro.    if watching people kill each other over competitive grocery shopping doesn’t excite you,   nothing will.     it’s better than those punchy last-minute black friday videos that folks upload to facebook.   ❞    nothing like good timing!      cas’ little remark reminded her that she’s had the television on mute for well over thirty minutes.   lithe arm reached over to grasp the remote from under a stray couch cushion,   thumb mashing on the button so that the next episode of love it or list it could blare through the speakers.     

❝    so what’re your wagers on?    i bet the blonde is a stay-at-home juice maker,   her husband’s some secret crack dealer for a warehouse mobster in new hampshire and their budget issss... somewhere around four million dollars.     cause,   y’know,   that’s doable.    ❞

[kenzikovaa]

webslings.          spyoderman.

DELICOUSLY UNHEALTHY GREASE COATS WEBBED DIGITS, one hand balancing the piping hot slice while the other curls around the edge of his mask. [𝗧𝗿𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀]. Excellent teamwork should always be rewarded with excellent pizza  —  Her reaction made it all the better.  ❛  Couldn’t agree more. If only the Italian mob were as good at committing crimes as they were at making pizzas.  ❜  

❝    pizza’s   great,   buuuuut   you’re   not so bad yourself,   hotshot.   for a spider guy and all.    ❞      punctuated by kenzi’s teeth snapping down on a piece of thin crust.  cheese burnt her hand,   followed by a series of vocal hoooh-haahs when it also burnt the roof of her mouth,   hand shaking itself out and rubbing against her hoodie.   who used napkins?   

❝          but SERIOUSLY,   jokes aside,   once you get past the wrestling costume,   you’re like a total badass.   you remind me of the character in a story that i had to tell this five year old one time.    max,   i think.   finally got him to eat his damn grilled cheese right before this duppy went all knife-murderer on his dad.    ❞  

[kenzikovaa]

i love her so much, your honour.

[kenzikovaa]

tharanduil oropherion.             goldilocks, no bears.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐝.    Chewing motion of his jaw bordering a complete halt whilst one strong curves upward and the fork lingers pierced into the waffle for a moment longer than planned.    Thranduil observes, reminding himself that success of any attempt at finding the answer lies in waiting ;  surely will she name a reason ?    Alarming is it nonetheless, her admission to being the very one seeking monsters in the dark.    To one such as him, thousands of years old, Kenzi is but a child with her barely above twenty years …thus, he can not in good conscience let her go alone.

❝  𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭  ❞,  protest springs forth promptly, somehow maintaining his grace when sliding around on his stool to face her.   And an inaudible sigh later, he repeats, albeit in calmer tone than prior:

❝  𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐭..  ❞    The odor of warm cherries does not cease to caress his nose, lure him.    But reminded of the time he resists, reaches into the pocket of his coat to pluck out his wallet.     ❝  𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝-𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬-𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 — 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭  ❞, the elf contemplates behind a frown, already risen from his seat to fetch the coat from its backrest and slip into it.    ❝  𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬.  ❞

His wallet goes right back into the pocket, money to the nearby waiter with a casual ‘keep the change’ added.    ❝  𝐖𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡.  ❞

❝  wait,    you?   you’re    going    monster hunting?  ❞    not that she didn’t think he was capable, but he definitely didn’t look the type.  all calvin klein and not nearly enough g.i. joe.  he didn’t try to disguise his feelings on her capabilities either, and while kenzi wasn’t exactly feeling all cardi b about the whole situation, that was his FIRST MISTAKE.  human or not, fragile or not, she wasn’t about to let her friends down.      

she had no idea why he’d felt so compelled to accompany her, if not maybe some sick streak of guilt for knowing more than he let on.   nasty jerk, if that was the case.   but all that was forgotten when she stole a gander at goldilocks’ big, FAT WALLET.  

❝  buuut there’s always room to learn!  welcome to kenzi’s school of monster hunting...  so, what’d you come in?   i pegged you as a porsche man.  ❞    not like kenzi had anything to drive herself.  she’d walked here, and unfortunately didn’t have access to the yellow trash can on wheels.  she reached out and patted his arm before stalking toward the door, slamming her heel on a ketchup packet half-way through the door. she grinned when it painted the horror scene she wanted, busted and splattered bright red all over the sidewalk.    ❝  also,  thrandaman,  if we’re gonna be working together, there’s gotta be some rules...   like,  not lying to each other, for starters.  capiche?   ❞

[kenzikovaa]

tharanduil.             l’oréal model.

𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙾𝙵 𝙺𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙽 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙷𝙸𝙼 𝙱𝚈 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴, 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚄𝙸𝙻 𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂 𝙼𝚄𝙵𝙵𝙻𝙴𝙳 .    As if weighing the suspicion in his mind, slow motion tips his fair head from one side to the other.    A hum accompanies the nonverbal response, whereas appetite sways the elf’s gaze back down to his sweet dish —  which still is not as tooth-rotting as various other things here.    ❝  𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚢-  ❞,  the kick cuts him off, ICEBITTEN GLARE SHOOTS IN KENZI’S DIRECTION, crowned by a scowl.    Well, this stung a bit but obviously was an accident.

Thranduil’s mouth pulls into a taut line, nostrils flaring around an exhaled breath when his elbows retreat from the table and he reaches for the fork.    Scrutiny sans words lingers for a moment, then averts with another attempt of his to explain:    ❝  𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜.  ❞

He sticks the silver into the soft waffle, uses its edge to slice off a bite ; cherry sauce drips onto the plate like Kenzi’s remark regarding her partner in crime into the air between them.    And Thranduil means to ask whether there has been proof for the whole vacuum reference to qualify as valid, but soon hears a query rather alarming in nature.    In lieu of lifting the bite to his lips, he glances over to her with PERPLEXITY WASHING ACROSS HIS PORCELAIN MIEN.     ❝  𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 ?  ❞    Readiness leave sets him on edge, an all too familiar tension clawing at ancient bones.    ❝  𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎.  ❞

however   this   guy   managed   to   swallow a thesaurus and live to tell the tale was beyond her.  it’s like c.s. lewis just wandered in for breakfast and started going off about aslan the friendly lion.    WHO EVEN ORDERED THE CHERRY SAUCE?   chocolate chips and whipped cream or BUST.   

already kenzi is shoving scraps of paper into her back, pausing only to reach over for the pen and jot down his last point - that a human could be pulling the strings.  certainly wouldn’t be the first time.  after meeting good ol’ dougie and sending the well witch back to hell, kenzi was pretty sure anyone could be responsible for fae bullshit these days.  she’d probably have to call bo - assuming the busy wondersnatch would pick up the phone - and let her know just what kind of target they might be dealing with.  

❝    y e a h,   well  a lot of things i’ve been doing lately are probably really stupid to most people.   but somebody’s gotta do it.   ❞    arm bends and extends across the side of the table to sweep her supplies - and a few packets of strawberry jelly - into her shoulderbag.    the pen clatters in last,   rolling off and into the flexible compartment with a satisfactory ‘plop’.    quickly she zips it up and slings it over her shoulder,   sliding out of the booth and rounding on the man.      damn,   he really did have the hair thing going for him.     ❝   welp,   pops,   i hate to order and run but,   seein’ how the office opened at eight and i’m here chowing down with you,   i’m probably already late to start my annual snoop-a-roo.   ❞

[kenzikovaa]

what  is  your  character  arc?

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂  𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎  𝐀𝐑𝐂 ;

we all know how this story goes.   when it began, you were almost the perfect hero, but almost is never enough.   you lacked introspection, or you were too stubborn or vengeful or reckless - as reckless as the world that helped to ruin you.   you were not perfect, and that's okay.   we knew the story ended in blood and we watched it anyway.   we knew you would die in the end and we still couldn't help but love you,   just a little bit.    at the very least,   you are more human than a hero could ever be.

tagged by @tharanduil, / tagging: @draevens, @wilczmin, @littlshack, @douchepool, @aldereign