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simpsations · 1 year

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Dragon male x male reader

In a well known kingdom, surrounded by mountains, dubbed the kingdom of the mountains by all that bare witness to the vast and beautiful lands.

The King Meldric, of this land was a seemingly kind soul, the most respected alpha, one of the most powerful and peaceful rulers across the lands. His daughter, princess Claire, was said to be the most beautiful omega woman in the kingdom, blessed by the gods.

The king cared for his daughter more that anything, so when how entered his daughter's sleeping quarters he was shocked to the core to find it bare and tattered nothing but small spurts of blood and a large fire-orange dragon scale left as evidence.

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The word of the missing princess spread through the kingdom faster than the speed of light. The king's men traveling through the villages and valleys in search for the praised princess.

They searched day and night in hopes of finding the princess, but they came up empty handed. The king set out told all of the tragic events begging those who were deemed strong to help find his beloved daughter and bring her home. Most pushed it aside stating that if the princess was supposedly taken by a dragon she withe already be dead or forcibly mated with the beast, and they couldn't fight against a dragon, other voiced pitty or concern, staying optimistic about the negative things that could have happened.

The king's words soon reached a small village, then got to you, an Omega male, the only son of the chief of your village. The second eldest of four.

Even though you were on such a low rank you had worked hard to become a knight, though still in training.

Once you got word of the princess' disappearance, from one of the drunk general heads, you decided that it would put you in a good light to save the princess.

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This lead you to where you where now, out side of a large cave, your body covered in armor that was almost too stiff for no reason. You could very much hear the loud cries of the dragon.

Once you finally entered the cave it seemed to be well lit to show a large scaled mound surounded in black chains that looked to have violet vainds running through the iron. Another pathetic cry was heard as the chains seemed to glow slightly.

While making your way closer to the beast while trying not to make a sound, you accidentally kicked a stone across the Rocky ground.

The sound of the stone finally dropping caused the beast to rise up and turn it's head towards the offending you. It's slits for eyes became almost invisible, a deep rumble in it chest as it bared it's teeth to you through a muzzle.

The dragon seemed to be hurt and slightly afraid of you. The large beasts stared seemingly angry yes the young omega could sense a large amount of distress in it.

Taking the sword from it's sheath around your waist, you brought it to the chains, ready to hack through them, though once the sword toughed the chains the vain like purple substance seemed to fade away with a white light, the chains loosening untill they lay surrounding the dragon, to both you and the beasts surprise.

The dragon's pupils dilate slowly as it looked from you and the chains. The sound of a horrid scream sounded behind the dragon.

Looking to see the lost princess seething looking not as perfect as the stories say, the dragon was quick to turn and snarl at her, before she could start questioning the two, the dragon opened it's mouth and shot a blast of fire at the princess, only stopping when it deemed the princess dead.

You stood there in shock, trying to back away quietly, you're armor making a noise that alerted the dragon, it's head and long neck moving to block you from the entrance of the cave.

"Uh.. I don't mean any harm..." You slowly lowered your sword to the ground and rose your hands Into the air in surrender, backing up only to hit the body of the beast.

Suddenly the dragon was engulfed in light, it's body morphing into a more humanoid form, it wings shrinkened slightly, it long red hair fell down to it's mid-back, it's skin was a pale completion with the same fire-orange scales that the large dragon had, it's tail bacame shorter and thinner still long enough to drag on the ground, it towered over you by a foot, scars littered it's chest neck and thighs.

Although the figure looked intimidating, it's eyes set on you as a deep purr sounded, almost vibrating thought the cave.

You looks nervously at the now humanoid dragon, taking notic of his lack of clothing, while he just stared at you like a puppy about to get a treat. You were quick to turn your back to look away from the bare man in front of you, you attempt to exit the cave now that the dragon's he's isn't in the way, but the winged man was quick to wrap his arms around you and hold you tight to his body, he smelt strong of pine wood and wild berries, for some reason you felt contempt with staying in the arms of this strange dragon man as well. "Garnot's savior? Garnot's mate?" The actual vibration of his voice deep in his chest shook you, the dragon man not letting you go any time soon sat himself down with you cradled close to him.

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Sorry I killed the princess off so quickly, I wasn't in the mood to do much on her.

I couldn't think of any forms of dialogue.

This request is from @obsessivevoidkitten I hope you enjoyed it.

I'm not to versed on the omegaverse

I literally deleted the longer version of the beginning of this, I'm sorry.

#lgbtqa #m4m #monster male x male reader #omega male reader #omegaverse

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channajen · 2 months

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THE HORROR AND THE WILD

A Danny Phantom Songfic (~2300 words)

Song by The Amazing Devil (Joey Batey and Madeleine Hyland) “The Horror and the Wild”

Lyrics in Bold Italics

(If you haven’t heard this song—go look it up now! It’s so good!!!)

Fic by Channahjen/Sivan5733

It had been over a decade since Amity Park fell to the armies of Pariah Dark. A decade filled with pain, regret, bitterness, and rage for the only surviving halfa. Danny spit the ecto out of his mouth and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

“Again!” Fright Knight called to the King’s Apprentice.

Danny glared at the powerful ghost and fell into a ready stance. Fright Knight’s training was brutal and often pushed the halfa to his limits and beyond. Blade met blade at incredible speeds. Sparks flew as Soul Shredder nearly hit Danny’s armored torso. The young adult had spent many long hours in the nightmare realm after each failed block. It was a harsh consequence, but it taught the young ghost swordsmanship more quickly and thoroughly than any other method would.

A new challenger attacked from behind. Danny twirled, feinted high, and connected with a brutal low kick to the weakest part of his opponent’s armor. The other ghost screamed as icy spikes cut through his abdomen and ripped a hole in the ectoplasm. Had Danny kicked any higher, he would have shattered his opponent’s core, but the halfa was in the habit of not ending his opponents—despite the fact that his “Master” preferred that he do.

Fright Knight stepped back and watched as a third adversary entered the battle. Danny did not hesitate to take this one down as well. The Spirit of Fear looked on in approval.

“You were raised by wolves and voices Every night I hear them howling deep beneath your bed They said it all comes down to you You're the daughter of silent watching stones You watch the stars hurl all their fundaments In wonderment, at you and yours, forever asking more”

Danny wasn’t privy to his trainer’s thoughts. If he had ever guessed the truth behind the Knight’s motivations, he certainly didn’t entertain those notions for long. As it was, he was blind to the machinations guiding his every moment since he had failed to seal Pariah away. Danny dispatched his final opponent, stood back, eyes a frosty blue as he watched for Fright Knight’s next instructions. The halfa didn’t hate his trainer—he hated that his “Master” rested the other ghosts’ wellbeing on Danny’s compliance. Danny turned his thoughts to Pariah.

“You are that space that's in between Every page, every chord and every screen You are the driftwood and the rift You're the words that I promise I don't mean”

“Boy!” Fright Knight barked, breaking into Danny’s concentration. “I said we are finished for the time being. You have done well today. You are dismissed. We will resume later at the usual time.”

Danny blinked as he took in the words and stalked towards the center of the Keep, where the servant areas were located. He quickly found himself before the door leading inside and allowed himself a second to remember why he kept going. He remembered his last day on Earth all too well. He thought about his friends and allies that rallied to try and take down the Tyrant King. Their song echoed in his mind.

“We're drunk but drinking (sunk but sinking) They thought us blind (we were just blinking) All the stones and kings of old will hear us screaming at the cold”

His family’s voices called to his core.

"Remember me, " I ask

His friends’ voices echoed the song.

"Remember me, " I sing

His core responded as Pariah’s mocking face appeared in his mind.

“Give me back my heart, you wingless thing”

He silently repeated his vow to the one who stole his everything.

“Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring I promise you, they'll sing of every time You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child Witness me, old man, I am the wild”

“One day,” he told himself, one day Pariah Dark would pay for all he has done. Danny collected his thoughts, took a deep, unnecessary breath, and went inside to change out of his practice armor. It wouldn’t be long before he was summoned to his nightly “audience” with the King.

Pariah Dark sat in his anteroom going over the daily reports from his servants. He was pleased to note that his vassals had finally procured the necessary items that would allow him to engage the thrice-damned Yetis in the Far Frozen. They, along with the ghosts in the Acropolis, were two of the biggest rebel factions left in his realm. They had been quiet lately—too quiet for Pariah’s taste. He would much rather mow them down on the field of battle than deal with their sneak attacks on his holdings. He flipped through the scrolls until he found the one he enjoyed reading the most: Fright Knight’s daily progress report on his apprentice. Pariah would never admit it aloud, but he found the foolish young ghost amusing. He knew that having the boy trained in the ways of warriors was slightly risky, but with every opponent the boy felled—even if the stubborn brat currently refused to end his wretched opponents—the ghost child’s rage grew. The Dark King laughed. In a century or two, the halfa would be mired so deep in his hatred that wouldn’t even realize he had been corrupted. All was going according to plan.

A servant came to Pariah’s door. “He is here, my lord.”

The ghost king smiled, and the servant visibly withered in his terror. “You may go. See that we are left alone.”

“Yes, my lord.” The servant escaped with his afterlife only because the king was looking forward to toying with his pet halfa.

Pariah sauntered into his throne room and watched his apprentice enter the area. The boy was standing tall and displayed no fear. The ghost king really needed to find a suitable reward for the general of his armies. He was thoroughly pleased at the way Fright Knight was molding the child into a suitable knight for his king. He studied the young ghost standing before his throne.

“You are the son of every dressing-up box And I am time itself, I slow to let you play I steal the hours and turn the night into day”

Danny kept his eyes on the clasp on Pariah’s cloak. He had learned early-on not to stare the king directly in the eye because he could not keep his emotions in check if he did. He despised the monarch more and more with every turn of the day. He took a deep breath and steadied himself for whatever mind-games Pariah was planning for the evening. He hoped he would be strong enough to not fall into a blind rage again. Danny would hold on. He would mold his anger into a weapon. He would learn, and one day, he would END the bastard that killed everyone he held dear.

“By day, oh Lord, three things I pray That I might understand as best I can How bold I was, could be, will be, still am, by God, still am”

Pariah chuckled at the barely restrained rage written so plainly on the boy’s face. He found it amusing that the child thought he could hide his feelings by avoiding eye contact. “So, child, is today the day you are going to depose me and take my throne?” His tone was mocking. “We can make it a spectator event.” He chuffed. “I’ll even give the husks of your ‘family’ front-row seats. How does that sound, boy?”

Danny’s fists clenched; his knuckles were white. He hissed in an unneeded breath and let it out slowly before he answered. “No thank you, sir. Not today.” The “but soon” went unsaid.

Pariah cackled wildly, then called a servant for refreshment. The ghost child really was his favorite pet.

An unseen, silent watcher looked down into the room.

“Fret not, dear heart, let not them hear The mutterings of all your fears The fluttering of all your wings”

“It won’t be long, now, Daniel.”

Time passed. Fright Knight pushed Danny ever harder. He threw multiple opponents the boy’s way. He drilled the halfa in tactics, warfare, and leadership. He used the boy’s emotions to make him stronger, faster, ever deadlier. Still, Danny did not end those he fought. He held on to that part of himself that recognized Pariah as his only true enemy. He knew what and who he was facing; Fright Knight made sure that Pariah did not.

Pariah kept track of the “human” calendar to make sure that Danny got “special attention” every time the anniversary of Danny’s capture rolled around. The evil ghost loved taunting the halfa; reminding the boy of his failures and inadequacies was his favorite pastime—next to violence and bloodshed.

The fifteenth anniversary of the Slaughter at Amity Park marked the day Danny reached the end of his ability to endure the Dark King’s existence. Pariah spent the entire morning taunting the half-ghost about the city he had failed to protect. The king’s words grated against Danny’s Obsession like sandpaper scoring his core. Danny couldn’t take anymore.

When the elder ghost asked the typical evening’s question of “Are you going to challenge me today, boy?” He was completely gob smacked by Danny’s simple answer of “yes.”

It didn’t take long for Pariah to regain his composure. He doubled over in laughter. “Really, now, boy? Are you sure about that? You are that ready to end your existence, child?”

Danny looked him dead in the eye. “It’s time.”

Pariah chuckled. He knew the boy wouldn’t be able to take his crown. He trusted his servants’ reports on the boy’s prowess and strength. He decided that he would beat the child senseless and lock him in the dungeon for a few hundred years for his insolence. That would put the boy in his place.

Two hours later, Danny stood in the center of a crowded arena. Pariah wanted to make an example of the ghost child. Everyone within quick flying distance was packed into the viewing stands around the open battle area; everyone wanted to see the fight.

Danny wore his best armor, recently gifted to him by Fright Knight. His core was screaming for him to tear the crown off of the old ghost’s head. He was unafraid and ready for vengeance.

Pariah stood a stone’s throw away for the defiant halfa. He was also dressed in his best armor—plus his cape, crown, and ring. He smirked at his opponent. “I won’t go easy on you boy.”

“Ditto.” Danny spat back.

Before anyone could blink, Pariah flew at Danny with his sword raised. Danny effortlessly blocked him, spun around, and kicked Pariah’s sword from his hand. The crowd was silent. The king stared at his hand and then back at his sword laying on the ground, confusion written plainly on his face. Danny stood back, smirked, and opened his arms, inviting Pariah to try again.

“Welcome to the storm, I am thunder Welcome to my table, bring your hunger”

Pariah snarled and grabbed a dagger from his boot. Danny waited until the last second to dodge; his foot caught the elder ghost in the neck. Pariah flew backwards and hovered haphazardly in the air. “BOY!” Pariah threw a fireball at Danny, who responded with an ecto-blast to the king’s face. Pariah threw up a shield, and the crowd gasped. This was not going according to plan. The king narrowed his eyes and looked over to his supposedly loyal Fright Knight. The ghost in question didn’t acknowledge him.

Then Danny went on the offensive. Before Pariah could move, he found himself skewered and trapped by ice spikes. The halfa then flew at the trapped ghost and rammed his armored gauntlet directly into Pariah’s face. Ectoplasm flew. The ghost king tried to use fire to melt Danny’s ice, but it remained solid. Danny gave in to the rage.

“Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring I promise you, they'll sing of every time You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child Witness me, old man, I am the wild”

Danny’s ice-reinforced fist rammed into Pariah each time a new voice sang in his mind.

The first was Jazz:

“Remember me”

The next was Maddie:

“Remember me”

Then Jack:

Remember me

Then Tucker:

Remember me

Then Sam:

Remember me

Then Mr. Lancer:

Remember me

Pariah’s broken form was lying in a pile of ice shards. There were no sounds in the arena at all, except for Danny’s unneeded breathing. His gaze turned to the crowds, and he spoke:

"Remember me, " I ask "Remember me, " I sing

Then he turned back to Pariah.

“Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring I promise you, they'll sing of every time You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child”

Danny thrust his hand through the king’s armor and into his chest. Pariah could feel the ice around his core. Danny stared him in the eye.

“Witness me old man, I am the”

Danny crushed Pariah’s core, and the king knew no more. His broken form turned to ash and drifted away on the non-existent wind. The crown and the ring hit the ground with a clatter and broke the deafening silence. Danny looked at the objects on the ground in front of him and breathed out an icy breath.

“Think of all the horrors that I promised you I'd bring I promise you, they'll sing of every time You passed your fingers through my hair and called me child Witness me, old man, old man, old man, I am the”

END

***All credit to Joey and Madeleine of the Amazing Devil for their awesome inspiration and music!***

#danny phantom #dp au #songfic #“Reign Storm” AU #major character death #violence/fighting

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dyvimwhitehart · 8 months

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all the skeletons you hide

A dark power doesn’t automatically mean a dark hand. He knew this long before meeting the Spellbinder, but seeing her wield the same magic as the Shadow Queen in such a noble way only cemented his beliefs further. or, The Wizard and Dyvim Whitehart find themselves at a dark kitchen table, unable to sleep the night before traveling to the Kondha Desert. READ ON A03 FOR ADDITIONAL COMMENTS.

Dyvim wakes up with his hand instinctively placed on the hilt of his sword.

Immediately, he looks for a Goliath. An Apiary guard. A mantis wielding her scythe. Any kind of bug to accompany the chittering in his ear, but there’s nothing. The room is empty, save for him and the bed in which he lays. A moment passes before he begins fiercely rubbing at his eyes to come back to the present.

That damned chittering is still there.

Dyvim pulls himself from bed, moving slowly across the floor to what he assumes is a window. There is a sliver of dark orange light peeking from behind a curtain. Carefully, he lifts it— anticipating the worst. What he’s met with is a limited view of two mantises battling a block or two away under the dim sky.

It hits him then, all at once: he and the Spellbinder are in the city of Sardonyx.

Under the request of both Zaltanna and Ezekiel the Lucent, Zarozinia the Deathsong had arranged for them to stay in an unoccupied home (its owners having all moved to the Hive) for the night to conserve energy before breaching the Kondha Desert at sunrise.

The chittering is a result of the city’s now-uncovered Fifth Column members clashing with those loyal to the Umbra Legion. Such battles would not have been possible without the Spellbinder’s good work. Dyvim drops the curtain, briefly wondering if she’s succeeded so far in sleeping through the night. He can’t think of anyone who deserves a quick rest more.

But, if he had to pick a runner up for that position, he’d pick himself.

“By Mourningsword,” he murmurs. “Pull yourself together,”

Before waking, he’d been trapped in that tomb again, only this time he was wide awake. As his fists pounded against the amber that encased him, the bees taunted him from above, their eyes beadier and crueler than he remembered. They were joined then by the Broodmother, who uttered no words and opted instead to scream at a pitch so loud he thought he might go deaf. Her warped voice grew more and more hysteric the harder he worked to free himself.

And then he was running down the Moon Cliffs at full speed. His armor, however, was so heavy he began to sag to the ground. One limb at a time, Dyvim fell to the dirt, his head the last thing to remain unbowed before dropping into the sand. He continued to try and scramble despite this, all-too aware of the sound of a Goliath gnashing its pincers in the distance, ready to tear him apart in the name of the Shadow Queen. In the distance, the Eclipse Tower began to crumble into the lake.

But soon he came to in a cell. All around him, the Broken Tower shook with what he could only justify as some kind of earthquake. Roze the Mousehunter, by name, paid no attention to him this time. This blossomed not hope, but deep confusion within him. As he stepped to the edge of his prison, fingers wrapping around the bars, he saw her far across the room moving at an absolutely erratic pace. Once his ears caught up with the rest of his body, he heard it: the unmistakable sound of a Burrower wailing for help, accompanied by the repeated strike of a scythe.

Finally, when he thought he could go back no further in his journey, he was a statue. He stood still in the Silent Market, accompanied only by the others who had been turned to stone. Who had failed to escape when the Shadow Queen’s dark magic swept over their land. His ancestors were safe, but they would bear no heroic descendant. And the more he attempted to move, to scream— the quieter things became.

Awake now, he takes special care to listen to his breathing.

Though he is proud to be the sworn sword of the king sent across the sea, Dyvim can’t help but wonder if simply being in Sardonyx had triggered such horrific scenes. Then again, this isn’t an uncommon occurrence. It's just one he’d rather have an explanation for. That makes it easier to press on.

He remembers then, a hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat, that he’d purposefully fallen asleep with his armor on. Call it a force of habit from the nights he and the Spellbinder would spend camping in caves and at the bases of trees. Though he is fortified, he lacks comfort, and one glance in the direction of his bed confirms to him that he won’t be falling back under anytime soon.

His nose twitches. His stomach growls. He wonders if those traitorous mantises left any food behind.

With his sword still at the ready, Dyvim gingerly opens the door to the common area, anticipating an equally quiet scene. What he finds is a candle on the kitchen table, still burning. Curious, he approaches it. A sheet of paper is illuminated by the light. Before he can make out the symbols scrawled upon it, he hears a soft, yet concerned voice.

“Dyvim?”

He looks up to see the Spellbinder’s silhouette approaching. The closer she gets, the easier it is to make out her face. Her dark brows are knit in what could be interpreted as frustration, maybe even anger— but Dyvim knows her well enough to see the worry in her eyes. To avoid intruding, he takes a step back from her work.

“Forgive me. I thought you may be asleep,”

“And I thought the same of you,” she says simply.

“Then it appears we both thought wrong. I think that makes us even, don’t you?”

He thinks he sees the flicker of a smile ghost across her face as she takes her seat.

“May I sit?”

“Of course,”

A sense of relief floods him as he pulls another chair out. Not that she has the authority to send him back to bed, but he’d be disappointed if she didn’t want his company. And that disappointment alone would’ve at least been enough to send him to the other end of the room.

They sit in silence for a moment. He watches intently as she waves a hand, causing a pen to rise into the air. She continues her notetaking in this hands-off way, a small section of brunette hair cascading from the braid she hasn’t bothered to fix in hours. It frames the one side of her face sweetly, accentuated by the candlelight.

Its been a long road to this point. Dyvim admitted to himself ages ago that he felt some kind of yearning when he saw her. Those feelings have little place in their current set of affairs, however. It would be deeply unfair of him to unload that on her when her plate is so unimaginably full already.

Still, in moments like this, his courtly nature almost falters. They’re hidden away from the world they have to save. If not for the sparring on their doorstep, maybe it could all melt away in the depth of her eyes.

“What are you sketching?” he asks, a selfish attempt to hear her voice, to delve into her thoughts.

Her gaze reaches him for a moment before returning to her work. “It's not so much sketching as it is… studying.”

“Ah, well then, may I ask what you’re studying?”

She hesitates, the pen hovering in midair for a moment.

“Shadow magic,”

Amber doesn’t so much as slide the paper toward him as she does move her arm in a way that he can see it if he wants to. With the added context, he recognizes the Shadow symbol immediately, accompanied by what he thinks is the symbol for Necromancy. He’s seen her draw and cast it many times before.

She seems like she’s waiting for him to say something, like she’s holding her breath. Dyvim keeps from pouring over the paper and gives a nod.

“Its been some time now since you captured the Eclipse Tower. How are you feeling?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m not a spellbinder myself. Maybe I’m just making an assumption here, but I’d imagine wielding such powerful magic has somewhat of a physical and mental impact. Especially…”

“Dark magic?”

He blinks, not wanting to imply anything. There simply isn't any other way to put it. But a dark power doesn’t automatically mean a dark hand. He knew this long before meeting the Spellbinder, but seeing her wield the same magic as the Shadow Queen in such a noble way only cemented his beliefs further. One of his ears twitches, and he shakes his head.

“I didn’t mean—”

“It is dark magic, you’re correct. That’s why it’s important for me to seek to understand it further.”

There’s an unspoken end to her words that hang heavy in the air. Something akin to… so I don’t end up corrupt and vile like Morganthe . It occurs to him then that he may have a deeper faith in her than she has in herself. Dyvim sits up a little taller, each second they spend together making his role in all this clearer. He’s always been there to stand beside her, even when he didn’t think she needed him. Now it’s becoming apparent that she does. Not because she’s weak, but because she’s a tad too strong.

His eyes are still heavy, but he fears another chapter of the nightmare: venturing to the end of this world just to lose her to the destruction of them all.

“You are still a student, yes? Back in your home world?”

“I am,” she begins writing again. “But not a classic one. My studies are more… field work based. I’m rarely ever in a classroom. Hence, well, my being here now.”

“Are your teachers reasonably lenient with you? Considering all the world-saving,” he attempts to joke.

“Well, my Necromancy professor usually can’t keep track of the days of the week, let alone my work. And there’s one who is on the Council of Light that guides me, so I suppose she reports back to the rest,” Before he can respond, she speaks again, causing his ears to jump. “They don’t offer Shadowmancy at Ravenwood,”

“Because it’s a dark magic?”

She wiggles her fingers in his direction, causing the pen to spike up and down. “It’s entirely forbidden,”

“So what shall they do when you are set to return to them?”

“You say that so optimistically,”

“I am optimistic,”

Amber shrugs. “I guess I would have a bone to pick with them if they refused to let me graduate after all I’ve done. But I don’t seek their approval, necessarily. I just seek… whatever I have to do to stop the Song of Creation from being sung. And if that means becoming a Shadowmancer…”

She has little choice now, it appears. Actually, it sounds like she’s always had little choice. This Council of Light she speaks of does most of her decision making. In a way, she is their sworn sword. Perhaps it’s an honor for her like it is for him under King Pyat. But when he speaks of the king, he never sounds so exhausted.

“So how does it feel? You never answered me,” He pushes the envelope only because she’s been more open tonight so far than ever. Dyvim blames it on the combination of fatigue, duty, and candlelight.

“You’re asking me a lot of questions tonight,”

The knight in him wants to step back, to bid her goodnight alongside an apology. But the heart in him…

“Would you rather I not?”

“Why are you interested? If you aren’t a spellbinder yourself,” the word rolls off her tongue almost teasingly. Perhaps he’s taking this more seriously than she is.

“Because you are my… companion. And I, yours. And if this weighs heavily upon you, I wish to help you carry the burden. It’s no secret to me how those who occupy this land view the Shadow. It’s unfair of them to view you similarly when you are only here to help,”

It’s not until he finishes rambling that he sees the small smirk across her face. She brushes that loose section of hair back behind her ear before returning to her work. He doesn’t dare to wonder if the warmth across her cheeks is simply heat from the fire, or…

“It makes me dizzy when I use it. Or when I’m struck by it. Like I’ve got a cloudy head, or I’m about to pass out…” she begins tracing the Shadow symbol again upon her paper. “The better I get at it, the less it impacts me. But it does feel heavier than my Death magic. My trip through the Eclipse Tower wasn’t exactly relaxing. Sofia Darkside is an exceptional, but brutal teacher,”

His skin itches, still touched somewhat by the tomb the bees had placed him in— the coffin he’d been cheering her on from, whether she knew it then or not.

“You have an exceptional gift,” Dyvim continues to speak before she can accuse him of buttering her up extra. “All heroes are powerful, but not all of them are smart. That’s what sets you apart. Your desire to understand and respect your magic,”

“I’ve been trusted with it. It’s only my responsibility to do so,”

A task many have failed, he thinks. His desire to bring up the Shadow Queen again, however, is nonexistent.

Apparently tired of having the heat on her, Amber sets her pen down completely and turns to face him. “What about you?”

“What about me are you asking?”

“You know what’s keeping me awake. It’s only fair that you tell me why you’re up. If we’re to stay even, that is.”

Dyvim shakes his head, scooting his chair back slightly. “Ah, well, before you captivated me, I was looking for a midnight snack,”

Her eyes widen, giving him the impression that he may have stood up a bit too hastily. He glances from side to side before realizing his sword is still in his hand. As if she can’t see it, he sets it down on the table and turns to head for the other end of the kitchen.

“I suppose those mantises wouldn’t have good enough taste to keep some aged cheese around, eh?”

The Burrower knight opens a cabinet, nose twitching wildly, searching for a scent. The Spellbinder continues watching him from her seat with no intention of moving.

“Dyvim,”

“I suppose we could try our luck with the market in the morning, stock up on food for the desert. It would be horrible to end up with only the meat-eaters’ menu available.”

“Dyvim, I get them too,”

He stalls then before an open drawer. Her eyes bore into his back, rendering his armor useless. Slowly, he turns to face her, ears drooping and eyes soft. She’s similarly vulnerable, a state normally so difficult to unearth.

“You do?”

Amber laughs, though there’s no real amusement in it. “I do. It would be concerning if I didn’t when you consider… what I’ve seen. What I’ve done,”

Dyvim wonders how many people would guess that about her. A Death wizard’s heart being set to race in the dark doesn’t sound right. And she’s so composed, so straight-faced and unafraid. He’s not unwise enough to fall into such a trap, but can see many interpreting her as above such a thing. But she suffers those nightmares face-to-face so they won’t have to, those endless people she’s saved.

Like her, he suffers for generations of people he will never meet. The long dead, the never born, the gone too soon— any and all of the Burrower ghost statues that give the Silent Market its name. The misery of his people compounds on his brain and, on occasions like this, keep him up at night.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear,” his tail falls between his legs.

“And I didn’t mean to dance around it. But I sleep with my wand on me. In times like this, it’s hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t,”

“Until you wake up,” he glances at her face, at each feature in the dim light. “And even then, it takes a moment.”

The Spellbinder nods. Her eyes are weighed down by hours of rest she hasn’t gotten. Whether she even tried to sleep or not is a mystery to him, but he approaches the table again, hand nearing the base of the candle.

“Can I help you, Spellbinder? In any way? Perhaps if I keep watch, like before,”

“You mean sit out here?”

“Wherever you need me. At the table, the foot of your bed…”

She stands, looking around the room before wordlessly crossing it. Dyvim watches her take a seat on a couch beside another window bleeding dark orange light from the Sardonyx sky.

“Or we could both sit here. And I’ll… try to close my eyes,”

Dyvim picks his sword up and joins her. At first, he takes the far side, but as Amber settles her legs on the latter end, he scoots closer so she’ll have a place to rest her head. She accepts his shoulder despite the armor covering it. He’s stoic to start, but upon growing accustomed to her weight, exhales and sinks further into the plush of the cushions himself.

They don’t speak beyond that. There isn’t much to say, or much they feel they can do without inviting complication. Instead, she does just as she said she would, shutting her eyes and focusing on leveling out her breathing.

Like this, she looks cherubic. She looks the antithesis of what the public would assume an apprentice of dark magic to be. She looks so tired, so young.

And Dyvim supposes he is the same, though he stays up the rest of the night, hand ghosting her forearm though his sword sits beside him.

#wizard101 #wizard101 fic #dyvim whitehart #wizzy fandom #wizard101 fanfiction #just realized i never posted this here.... lol

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cf8wrk4u-us · 10 months

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Ben 10 Trollhunters Crossover

(based on the amazing AU made by @sonicasura , please check out their blog and AUs)

Becoming~

Despite what the songs and sagas would have you believe about Kanjigar, things didn’t come easy for the current Trollhunter.

He’s had his own share of problems and dilemmas. And might as he tried to carry them on his own, to keep the weight of his responsibility from others there were things he couldn’t solve or dispher on himself.

One example being the current vision that had plagued him.

It had been a long few days of patrolling the streets and forest surrounding Arcadia, negotiating peace treaties between different clans of trolls, and chasing Bular. The latter of which seems to take sweet sadistic joy in making the current Trollhunter run after him.

He knew Bular was up to something, the Gum-Gum prince hinting as such and thriving on Kanjigars frustration as he struggled to comprehend what.

So yes, it had been a frustrating few days.

That's why when Kanjigar finally removed his armor and collapsed in his and Draals shared den, with Blinky and Aaaarrghhs prompting, he found himself resigned to enjoy a restful few hours of sleep.

Only instead of being welcomed by a void of nothing Kanjigar was plagued by images and visions he could barely comprehend.

Of an infinite starry night.

A celestial body that was surrounded by a ring of floating rocks.

Two vessels made of metal that could fly and were doing battle.

Fire and explosions lighting up through the darkness of its space.

A silvery sphere being launched into space, towards a world of bright greens and blues.

His world.

Kanjigar awoke in a panic, stone chest heaving.

Besides him he eyed the Amulet of Daylight glowing a frantic blue.

“Was this your doing”? He found himself asking “Were these visions of a prophecy”?

Kanjigar knew he would get no answer in this state but could potentially find it elsewhere. Quick on his feet he donned his armor and made his way out of his den.

“Father”?

Kanjigar looked to see son Draal standing by the door way, slug over his shoulder was what sounded like scraps of metal and glass. The older troll found himself warmed that his son would go through the trouble of getting him a snack but realized he couldn’t let himself be distracted.

“I’m off to see Vendel, son” he answered brisky as he made his way to the entryway.

Draal though continued to block his path “But arn’t you supposed to be resting, you’ve gone without sleep for too long-”

“A Trollhunter doesn't always get the leisure of rest”! He snapped before gently but firmly pushing Draal away.

But even as he made his way into the streets of Trollmarket Kanjigar could hear the crash of the bag of food hitting against the wall and the aggravated growl of Draals.

He was only trying to help you, a quite voice whispered.

But Kanjigar shook them away though.

Reminding himself that this was for the best, the farther away Draal was from Trollhunter business the safer he would be.

“And are you sure that's what you saw?” asked Vendel.

The leader of Trollmarket and overall elder of his tribe, Vendel was quite proficient at his craft of deciphering prophecies.

“Yes” answered Kanjigar.

Vendel pulled at his beared thoughtfully as he paced back and forth in his workshop.

“Visions of the stars, flying ships of metal” the troll elder finally stopped “You don’t think….that another visit from the stars is at play here”?

Kanjigar furrowed his brow.

The last time they had been visited from worlds beyond it was to assist the two royals of House Tarron in hiding away their most precious relic. Kanjigar unconsciously tapped his foot on the floor, reminding himself that under their feet is where the great item of power layed sealed away by his own hands.

“I can’t be sure, the last visions of the King and Queen were clear enough” said the Trollhunter “But now…”

A part of Kanjigar wondered how the royal couple has fared these last centuries. He hoped nothing for the best from them, their families, and their people.

But if the visions were about them….

Kanjigar lightly shuddered as he remembered the devastating attack between the two flying ships. But not seeing the royals in his visions overall did serve to reassure the Trollhunter that the king and queen were well.

Still though.

“I’m just not sure how to make sense of them” admitted Kanjigar.

Vendel only nodded “Visions show so much and show so little” he said “Prophecies of what could come and what danger they present, but still leaving us with so many questions” the elder troll looked to the Trollhunter “But still at least we are presented with one clue”

“Really”? Asked Kanjigar for clarification.

Vendel huffed “We can already tell where its coming from” before stretching his ancient neck to look to the amber ceiling “We have only to look to the heavens”

______________________________________

Jim groaned as noticed the sun finally dipping over the horizon over the tree-line.

He should be home by now getting meal prep done for tomorrow's lunches and dinners. But here he was instead, basically searching blind through the bushes for his phone.

The reason?

Psycho Steve.

His legal name being Steve Palchuck, the schools resident bully and today he had chosen Jim as his target for today. Granted it was Toby that Steve had been trying to aim for, only for Jim to try to shield his friend and call Steve out on his jerky behavior.

“It's ridiculous! Could you at least try being original for a change? You've been doing the same old bully routine since the second grade, Steve! It's tired. Making fun of Toby for his weight? Seriously”?

This had gotten him a furious look from the blond jock before morphing into a sadistic smile. He had guessed he was going to be paid back for the comment in some way, but as the rest of the school day passed he had hoped Steve's neanderthal brain squeezed Jims comment out of his thought process.

But when he and Toby began to bike their way home Steve and his lackeys slid up to them like a shiver of sharks.

Jim and Toby had hurriedly sped up on their bikes to try to get away, but unfortunately Palchuck and his gang were some of the school's top athletes so it took them little time to catch up to the pair.

“I’m coming for you Lake”! jeered Steve “You dead meat”!

With those words Jim found himself slightly grateful that Steve's anger seemed to be directed on him specifically and not Toby, given that at the moment the pudgy teen was already gasping for breath as he tried to speed up.

Because of that Jim made a quick decision, eyeing one of the alleyways that faced the forest Jim swerved his bike towards it. Steve made a startled sound before it turned into an enraged grunt.

“Get back here Lake”! Jim heard the bully shout.

The pavement soon gave way to more uneven dirt as Jim raced his bike through the slopes of the woods. His bike jostling along but the teen skillfully keeping his balance, unlike Palchuck and his friends.

Jim couldn’t help grinning as he stared back and saw the boys struggling to keep up.

Steve and his friends maybe some of the top athletes at school but Jim grew up in these woods.

Heck! Him and Toby were Mole Scouts at one point!

“You're dead, Lake”! Steve yelled “When I catch-up to you, your gonna wish-”

But at this point Jim thankfully couldn’t hear him.

The teen didn’t stop till he was at the canal.

Huffing and out of breath, Jim reached for his phone to text Toby that he was okay but froze when he felt his jacket pocket was empty.

He felt around his jeans, but still nothing.

Jim looked to the forest, wincing.

“Oh, no….”

Now Jim was stuck in the woods looking frantically for his phone.

A part of him reasons he should just go to Tobys to ask his friend for help but was still weary of Steve prowling around. So he grit and beared the task of trying to find his phone on his own. But as the last bit of sunlight kissed the horizon Jim had to accept he might not find it tonight or worse, never.

Jim groaned again, he didn’t want to ask his mom for a new one or use his Vespa savings to buy another, but the hard truth was that he may have too.

It was getting dark and he didn’t want to be stuck in the woods at night on his own, even if he was still close to the urban areas.

It just didn’t feel safe…

Jogging through the growing darkness of the woods to make his way back home something caught the teens eyes.

Squinting up at the dark sky Jim was shocked to see something glowing bright in the night.

At first Jim guessed it was an airplane or even hopefully a shooting star.

(something he could use to wish on to help him find his phone)

Only for the bright object to worryingly grow in size and intensity as it flew towards him.

“What the-” Jim started only to scream as the “shooting star” zoomed right at him!

The teen dove out of the way just in time for the burning object to race by him, his whole back side flushed with warmth by the speed of the falling thing.

There was a loud crash and hunks of rocks flew everywhere!

Jim stayed tucked under the underbrush, only looking up when the last of the debris fell away. The air was filled with dust and Jim coughed as he slowly sat up. His eyes widen when he saw a crater and curiously the teen took a step forward.

Another gasp left his mouth as he saw the devastation the crash left a good portion of the forest

Peering down into the center of the crater Jim could almost make out a small dark object.

“A meteor”? He asked out loud.

Going back to his sixth grade science knowledge, he heard meteors that crashed to earth usually broke apart in the earth's atmosphere and rarely did they cause any damage of this sizable amount.

Despite the devastation, Jim couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of finding a real meteorite.

Imagine the reaction of his classmates if he came to school tomorrow with a real piece of space-rock!

He be a school legend!

And maybe….

Jim's thoughts immediately turned to a pretty browned-eyed dark haired girl from history class. So lost in thought the teen didn’t know that the ledge he was standing on was beginning to come apart till he was already falling into the crater.

Groaning Jim stood back up, while getting his bearings he came face to face to what was in the crater.

The item was round and seemed to be made of some dark metal, parts of it platted like a shell or even a rolly-polly.

Definitely not a meteor in Jims books.

“Is this a part of a satellite or something”? The teen asked out loud.

Maybe it was a piece of a satellite or even a rocket ship, still pretty cool and-

The round object suddenly opened and Jim was engulfed in a bright green light. Inside was a strange looking bracelet or watch, the thing was made up of black and gray material with white lines detailing the surface and in the center was a green and black symbol that reminded Jim of an hourglass.

As if in a trance Jim walked towards it, stretching his arm out when he was only a foot away.

All of a sudden the thing actually jumped!

"Ahhhh"!!! he screamed as the thing wrapped firmly around his wrist, he flayed his arm around trying to throw the strange thing away from him.

"Get off! Get off"!!! Jim shouted over again, he did everything he could think of to get rid of the watch. From trying to pry it off with his hands, rolling on the ground, to then grabbing a fallen branch and trying to wedge it underneath the watch.

Only for it to snap in half.

"You gotta be kidding me”! Said Jim as he kneeled down on the dirt.

Jim started at the strange watch again, studying for some kind of seam or lock he could pick at. Looking at the circular center where the hour-glass was, curiously Jim twisted it and surprisingly the watch beeped and a portion of the watch lifted up. Not releasing Jim’s wrist but strangely the hour-glass symbol shifted revealing a vague black figure.

Curious and without thinking Jim pressed on the dial.

The moment that the center of the watch was press though an emerald light enveloped the space around him, blinding the teen.

Jim felt something strange come over him, a strange surge of energy course throughout his body.

He felt his skin crack open, his bones stretched and broadened, a feeling of intense warmth came over him that left his head feeling dizzy!

What was happening!?

What was this watch doing to him!

He gave a gargled choke before everything finally seemed to settle down, by then the light was gone.

Jim cracked his eye unsteadily, the nervously lifted his hand up.

Only to Jims horror his skinny wrist had been replaced with a large bright fiery arm. His skin was cracked and speckled with hot red rocks like magma. His digits a glowing yellow like the embers of a deep furnace.

He..he was..

"I'm on fire" he breathed before screaming, "I'M ON FIRE"!!!!

He slapped at his arms trying to extinguish the flames and blowing on them with his non-existent breath, but nothing worked.

The only reason he stopped was when he didn’t feel the expected agonizing pain that stories his mom told from work warned him about.

Stopping Jim studied his new hands.

Again there was no pain.

“Hey, I’m on fire” he said “And I’m okay”

Feeling a certain pressure on his fingertips Jim flicked his fingers and immediately sparks of flames danced on his palms.

“Check it out”! he found himself laughing “I’m totally hot”!

Jim eyed a tree behind him, then using the same pressure he made a finger gun motion and sent a sphere of fire that practically snapped the tree in two.

“Now thats what I’m talking about”! cried Jim.

Whatever the watch was, whatever it did to him, just made his life so much more interesting!

This was amazing!

Incredible!

“I gotta tell Toby” he realized

Jim in his new fiery body, quickly made his way out of the woods.

His path was far more illuminated now.

_______________________________________

Kanjigar looked worryingly down at the metal casing in front of him.

Just as Vendel had suggested he kept his eyes on the heavens, leaving Trollmarket he still had doubts in the visions he had received but those all evaporated as he saw something glowing fly through the air and land somewhere in the forest of Arcadia.

Quickly getting his bearings the Trollhunter navigated through the woods to where the light fell.

He found the crater and traveled down into it.

Seeing the casing he studied it and from a distant memory realized this was no material made on earth, but from the stars.

This was his vision!

Only….the case was worryingly empty.

“What were you holding” asked Kanjigar as he lifted the item up “And where is it now”?

#ben 10 fanfiction #ben 10 #trollhunters #jim lake jr #toby domzalski #kanjigar #draal the deadly #trollhunters draal #trollhunters vendel #crossover

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tempest-loupnoir · 3 months

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Reasons why Robert E. O. Speedwagon is in my opinion, the best character in Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures and one of my favorite characters I’ve gotten to know in recent years.

One: Speedwagon would have been a terrifying gang boss in any show that did not involve supernatural freaks and zombies. He Clobbered zombies with a sledgehammer. Which he could swing with One Hand! Just his hand! Do you know how heavy a sledgehammer is?! I’m average sized with average upper body strength and I could barely lift it off the ground with both hands and my back put into it. Speedwagon makes that chunk of rock look weightless.

Speedwagon is a sharp shooter. He sniped Dio right above the eye In The Dark. That would have been the end of their troubles then and there if Dio didn’t already have Plot Armor with a freaky acupuncture vampire-making mask.

Speedwagon has precise control over a sawblade projectile that he could catch and toss with just His Head! He knew exactly when and how to flip it onto his head with a flick of his finger after making it boomerang around him In A Blizzard! And he threw it with perfect accuracy across several meters in said snowstorm, with enough force to cut through a very beefy arm and hit bone. While He himself was dodging a knife that was kicked at his face! He still cut a man with his hat, even after dodging and having his aim thrown off! Can you imagine fighting a guy with that kind of eye for causing the most damage to you possible with long ranged weapons? The scariest types of characters to fight in battle games are the ones that can take away health points without being in your range to fight them or block their melees! And he was ready to fight with his fists, too! He probably had several knives hidden on him.

Speedwagon’s home street was the most dangerous place in Victorian London. London was the culture hub for both Europe and the United States back then. He had at least 35 men in the anime under his command, many of them designed to resemble serial killers in pop culture movies like Jason, Freddy Krueger, and Edward Scissorhands. He had a martial arts master as his backup and best friend. He had a homemade car! In 1888! Before most rich people had cars! Speedwagon was the boss of the most deadly gang in a very influential area, and he had connections with people all over England. He knew about the murders and disappearances in Wind Knight’s Lot, all the way in Southern England Before Baron Zeppeli did!

In the manga, Speedwagon flipped backwards from the roof of the carriage through an open window into the carriage. A move he likely practiced for robbing moving carriages back home… He bashed in a zombie’s skull with the sledgehammer mentioned earlier while surrounded by an army of them, and was not shown with any wounds or fear during the fight.

He climbed a stone wall and a multi story building at 1 am in the blustery cold of a December night with no lights to guide him, sporting a broken arm in a cast and sling, plus broken ribs and internal injuries (we were told a piece of bone pierced his lung early in the first battle against Dio). All because he Had to make sure his new friend did not succumb to depression and die. All he wanted to do was hold Jonathan’s hand and tell him he wasn’t alone.

Speedwagon’s trademark scar likely took many months to heal from. At a time when poor men like him wouldn’t be able to get good medical care, If any, and also hospital sanitation was completely absent. The dub has him mention Florence Nightingale, the nurse who first told medical workers that they needed to wash their hands and tools before doing surgery and while treating patients… Just imagining the kind of dismal sanitation back then, when raw sewage was still dumped in the Thames river… UGH. And Speedwagon bore that scar for life. It had to have affected how he ate, drank, spoke, and slept. This man is the poster child for Tough and Gritty characters.

His greatest super power? His keen eye! He figured things out in a glance, hence his narrating what’s happening (which was necessary in the manga since the manga is a bit confusing to follow with all the sound effects and gore flying). Even 75 year old Speedwagon was able to figure out a supernatural foe he’d never seen before was using a wind vortex to injure Caesar. He warned Caesar, a Hamon warrior who specialized in using air for his attacks, that he needed to close his eyes to avoid losing them! 75 year old Speedwagon with a brain injury still needed a straitjacket to keep him from committing (trigger warning!) suicide off camera with a piece of glass he hid in his hand, and he was still fiery tempered and determined to fight Nazis with all his might! He Only worked with them when the whole world was at stake and the only thing he gave them besides Hell was giant flashlights. That’s it. Giant UV flashlights. He didn’t even want help when he was stuck in a straitjacket watching a supernatural giant consume and destroy an entire army of Nazis. Speedwagon has a very strict moral code.

Two: Speedwagon also was ahead of his time as far as racial tensions go. You can see Asians, black men, etc in his gang, and just like Erina Joestar, he was quick to accept/adopt an orphan African American teenage thief on the street simply because he was kind. Speedwagon would have related to Smokey’s background and his determination to stand by his friend, even though they were both hopelessly incapable of lifting so much as a finger against their super-powered supernatural foes, and he made sure that boy stayed safe. No Nazis were going to hurt his friend!

75 year old Speedwagon was still Strong As Heck to hold an unconscious 6 foot tall muscular warrior woman in his arms without staggering.

He traveled around the world before he turned 25. He worked his backside off trying to provide for a widow and two children on his own, and could not manage it, so one of the babies had to go to a monk friend. He no longer wanted to stab and rob people for a living, so the only way he could earn enough through honest means was to find a raw material in high demand before someone else did and stake a claim on it. He had a super keen sense of smell and that likely helped him find the undiscovered oil reserve while he was crawling around, penniless, in the Texas desert under a scorching sun. He nearly died trying to provide for Erina and George 2. The fact that he was smart enough to start his own business instead of selling out to the first plonker to offer him a fat check, and he figured out how to work with those same pricks who used to snub him when he was a thief and beggar, speaks a lot to his adaptability and observation skills.

Three: He didn’t let becoming a billionaire overnight change him! He provided for his slum friends, too. They had better clothes when they saw Jonathan off on his honeymoon, and it’s likely they were Speedwagon’s first employees when he decided to navigate politics and try to make a nonprofit organization for medicine, archaeology, habitat and cultural preservation for animals and people (he knew what it was like to lose everything; there is no way he’d turn his back on people being slaughtered for eugenics during WW1. He likely tried to help evacuate and protect people during that). And because he knew someone made that mask that ruined the Joestars’ lives, he kept searching for other supernatural threats to humanity. He was humanity’s first line of defense, just like SHIELD in Marvel comics, and he did it quietly without government assistance or journalists documenting his progress.

Because of Speedwagon and the Joestars, Georgia got its first black mayor before desegregation happened in the United States. Because of Speedwagon and the Joestars, humanity was spared from a cruise ship full of zombies that would have eaten New York City first in 1889, and then plagued and brought down the entire United States in months, and they stopped even more powerful vampires from feeding on the entire world in 1920. (And kept that power out of Nazi hands). He protected the identity of the Hamon clan, too. The Nazis would not have known about it if Caesar had kept his mouth shut.

Four: Speedwagon’s legacy is so powerful that even in an alternate universe where he never met Johnny Joestar, he still started his Foundation to help people, and his Foundation still ended up entwined with the Joestar family. His legacy helped the Joestars in the mainverse for over a century, and it has the same potential in the new verse, an alternate world where previous characters and their traits are mixed with others. For Speedwagon to still be Speedwagon and still have the same destiny, even though everyone else (except spoilers for Jojolands) and everything else was completely changed… That says something, doesn’t it? The author might not ever use Speedwagon again but his name has been in eight of the nine stories so far. That’s more than any other character Araki created.

#Robert E. O. Speedwagon appreciation post #jjba part one character analysis #long post

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supermagicas · 5 months

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POKEMON

Tanjiro Kamado - Part 1

Being a Demon Slayer wasn't easy for him, especially after he lost his family due to a demon attack and his younger sister Nezuko became a demon. But he decided not to give up and his goal to find a cure for her sister and defeating the king of demons.

After meeting a strange but interesting person named Natsuki and she has the ability to command strange looking animals/creatures and finding out that she is from another world, she decided to help him and stay by his side, learning later on that these creatures are called Pokèmon and the many adventures about his new friend's world.

During the training for the war against Muzan, Tanjiro and his friends were teleported to another world and they meet Natsuki. Since Tanjiro and his friends are stressed due to the war, they decided to settle down and started their new adventure in the Pokèmon world along with their Pokèmon Trainer friend.

POKEMON

Decidueye (Husui) - Male - Grass/Fighting Type

Decidueye, let's do our best to protect everyone!

First Pokèmon, his Ace. He captured him while time traveling with Celebi

As a Rowlet, Decidueye was the older of his family, but some Pokèmon hunters captured his family and Decidueye was the only one who escpaed from them

During his years of being alone, he started to train in order to become stronger

When Tanjiro asked to Natsuki about Decidueye, he answered him that Decidueye's legs are extremely powerful that it can knock trees down and shatter boulders with the power of its kicks (Leaving all the Kamaboko Squad and Hashiras very impressed)

Decidueye sees Tanjiro in himself and decided to become his partner after seeing him protect him from a pack of Aradios

Tanjiro sees Decidueye not as his Pokèmon partner, but a member of his family and he wants to see his friend be happy and safe

He's strong and smart, but when Nezuko pets his feathers he would blushed for emberassed (Zenitsu would laughed behind on his back until he received a smack on the back of his head)

Tanjiro and Decidueye do almost everything together, especially training and eating (ramen and tempura are their favorites)

Decidueye hates injustices and later demons (except Nezuko)

POKEBALL: Ultra Ball

STRUMENT: Ultra stone (Ultra Decidueye)

ABILITY: Scrappy (Enables moves to hit Ghost-type foes)

NATURE: Adamant

MOVES: Aerial Ace, Sword Dance, Sucker punch, Triple Arrow, Leaf Storm, Aura Sphere

Samurott - Male - Water Type

Samurott, prepare the swords!

Second starter Pokémon. He captured him while time traveling with Celebi, but he didn't evolved in Hisuian form, as Tanjiro and his friends go back in present time

He met him when he was a Dewott as he tried very hard to beat another Dewott

As Dewott, Samurott is a real proud Pokémon who took his job a the "Little disciple of the Water" very serious

Before being catched, Dewott always follows Tanjiro in order to challenge him against Decidueye

After being defeated many times, Dewott was upset, but Tanjiro proposed to him to join his team, which made the Discipline Pokémon very happy

He evolved in Samurott when he tried to learn Sacred Sword like his father (who knows who he is 😏)

Samurott has a friendly rivalry with Decidueye, he sees as his rival, but also a friend

Not only he's proud, but he's also impulsive and brave. But he's very kind and protective

Tanjiro has often problems with Samurott, especially when it comes to battles, but he knows that Samurott always follows his orders

Even if he won't to admit, Samurott is very fond of Tanjiro and Nezuko

POKEBALL: Sub Ball

STRUMENT: Mystic Water

ABILITY: Shell Armor (Blocks critical hits)

NATURE: Adamant

MOVES: Razor Shell, Aqua Jet, Ice Beam, Sword Dance, Hydro Pump, Sacred Sword

Rampardos - Male - Rock Type

So hard... like a boulder! URGH!

He captured him when it was a Cranidos after being revived by a fossil. He captured him after coming back to the present day with Celebi

As a Cranidos, Rampardos was very stubborn and very energetic

He liked heabutting everything and everyone

When the Head Butt Pokémon was crossing the line, Tanjiro decided to step in, headbutting the Pokèmon. As the result, only Tanjiro fell unconscious

After regained consciouns, Cranidos approached the boy and began to nuzzle his chest, asking to be his trainer which he accepted, surprising everyone

He evolved in Rampardos during the battle against Steelix

He still headbutt, but only against those who harmed his friends

One time Inosuke tried to beat the Head Butt Pokémon, only to be crashed into a rock wall after receiving a tail kick from the Pokémon (Luckily he wasn't in any danger after receiving treatment from Nurse Joy)

Rampardos likes to carry his friends on his back

POKEBALL: Safari Ball

STRUMENT: Choice Scarf

ABILITY: Mold Breaker (Moves can be used regardless of abilities)

NATURE: Jolly

MOVES: Headbutt, Zen Headbutt, Crunch, Sandstorm, Stone Edge, Earthquake

Corviknight - Male - Flying/Steel Type

What a remarkable crow~

He captured it when Tanjiro was in Galar and found Corviknight nearly injured by a wild Pokémon

At first Corviknight didn't want the boy's help, but after few days the Pokèmon decided to trust him

The Raven Pokémon decided to join the team after a battle against Tanjiro and his team to see if he is worth to be his trainer

Unlike the crow from Tanjiro's world, Corviknight is not very talkative, he is very calm and patient

He dislikes Ramparados' antiques and whenever the Head Butt Pokémon starts to be wild, the Raven Pokémon would always put an end by battling against him

Corviknight is able to transport the Kamaboko Squad, even though at the beginning he didn't want to beacuse of Inosuke and Zenitsu

Corviknight is very careful and is very aware of dangers

He likes to carry Tanjiro on his back in case he is exhausted from travel and/or a fight

POKEBALL: Velox Ball

STRUMENT: Leftovers

ABILITY: Pressure (Raises foe's PP usage)

NATURE: Impish

MOVES: Steel Wing, Drill Peck, Iron Defense, Brave Bird, Roost

Volcarona - Male - Fire/Bug Type

This Pokémon represents the sun?!

Tanjiro got Volcarono when he was an Egg. He received it as a present from Natsuki

As Larvesta, Volcarona thought that Tanjiro was his father and he would always snuzzle him and eat with him along with Decidueye

Volcarona sees Decidueye as his older brother

When he was Larvesta, Volcarona didn't fight very much, but once he learned Flamethrower he started to trained to become powerful like Decidueye and his trainer

He evolved in Volcarona when he saved Tanjiro and Decidueye from Pokémon hunters

He is brave and strong, but a real soft and goofball when it comes to his trainer

"Do you want to know something Tanjiro? Volcarona was considered a Pokémon that was born from the Sun?" "REALLY?!"

From that day, Tanjiro had always believed that he and the Sun Pokémon were destineted to meet

Volcarona get along very well with Kyojuro, Mitsuri, Shinobu and Giyuu, but he hates Sanemi and Inosuke (poor them 😅)

POKEBALL: Premier Ball

STRUMENT: Super Stone (Super Volcarona)

ABILITY: Flame Body (Burns the foe on contact)

NATURE: Modest

MOVES: Flamethrower, Sunny Day, Hidden Power [Water],Quiver Dance, Bug Buzz, Fiery Dance

Slurpuff - Female - Fairy Type

You have a great sense of smell, Slurpuff 😄

Tanjiro met Slurpuff during a festival, more specifically a Food Festival

Slurpuff was Tanjiro's partner during the festival and soon they two get along very well

"Wait... Slurpuff can smell everything even from a mile from here? Is it possible for her to smell even demons?"

Who knows, it was never proved... until Slurpuff smelled a demon from Tanjiro's world, and she was able to defeat it

Tanjiro decided to let Slurpuff join his team

Since she likes to eat, she would often eat her friends' food, until she would receive a scold from her trainer

Slurpuff has once eaten Inosuke and Zenitsu's food. The result? They chased her

Despite her love for food, she is very generous and she is willing to give her food to others

Mitsuri and Nezuko love Slurpuff

She can be lazy, but Slurpuff is very energetic when it comes to battle

POKEBALL: Heal Ball

STRUMENT: Leftovers

ABILITY: Sweet Veil (Burns the foe on contact)

NATURE: Naive

MOVES: Play Rough, Aromatherapy, Metronome, Energy Ball, Safeguard, Dazzling Gleam

Part 2

#demon slayer #tanjiro kamado #pokemon #crossover

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godsandmonstersrpg · 6 months

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PLOT DROP 004 ;;

It was night, Daeron had stepped out onto his balcony Arbor gold in hand, and he was wearing a light robe of cloth of gold. Looking out over Kings Landing, his mind was unsure about where things were going to go from here now that the treaty was all but finished. He wanted to be the King his father and grandmother knew he would be, but with his father’s killers still loose, those who sought to undo 60 years of peace, he was anxious. His gaze was roaming out over the city, until they finally befell the grand site of the former housing pen of his grandmother's dragon, Drogon. Drogan had grown to be one of the largest dragons in the history of Westeros now nearing the size of Vhagar at her passing, but shortly after his grandmother’s passing Drogon had taken flight, no one was sure where he had gone off to. His new housing had been built differently than the Dragonpit. The intention was to make sure that, unlike the dragons of old his size would not be affected by containment. Rather, Daenerys had wanted to make sure that he grew larger and larger as the dragons of old Valyria and the dragons of Balerion’s age had before the construction of the Dragonpit.

After Drogon’s departure from the city, his father had made the decision to move all of the dormat Dragon eggs into the open air structure. Perhaps it was a hope Drogon seeking out kin would return to them. Over the course of Daenary’s reign, she had managed to track down and recover 23 Dragon Eggs. All of them were turned to stone, and kept on display in her solar within the Red Keep. Now resting in their new home, under guard still. Neither Rhaegar nor Daeron had wanted to risk them falling out of Targaryen possession, and so had the Dragon Pen being guarded tightly. Despite being dormant and being turned to stone by time, they were still valuable, and that many eggs could make sure a man was so wealthy he, his children and his grandchildren would never have to want for anything. The eggs were now also the closest thing the Targaryens had as a sign of their power, especially since Drogon had left. The last dragon was out there somehwere alone, he wondered where. Dragonstone had been searched and there was no trace, Daeron imagined the dragon went to the Dothraki Sea to be reminded of when his grandmother birthed him. In many ways, Drogon was something of a much older Uncle. One of Daenary’s first sons. Arguably her first son, and easily her most powerful son.

Daeron was bringing the glass up to his lips, when he heard the door to his chambers get thrown open, and the clattering of his Kingsguard’s armor following the frantic footsteps, “Your grace, your grace.” The voice was panting clearly he had ran to get here. However before the messenger could even speak, Daeron was already figuring out why he had come running so frantically, the moonlight was being blocked out, and the flapping of the wings flying over the Red Keep had his robe fluttering. Dropping his glass, the sound of it shattering against the ground and the splash of the spilt wine hitting his leg did little to bother him as he watched……Drogon fly towards his nest. Watching as the figure landed in the structure, Daeron wasted no time snapping his fingers to signify he needed to get dressed so that he could personally go investigate this matter………

Drogon had returned to King’s Landing.

#g&m.plotdrop #asoiaf rpg #got rpg #period rpg #hotd rpg #game of thrones rpg #asoiaf rp #game of thrones rp #fantasy rp #got rp

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princess-of-the-corner · 10 months

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Kingdom Hearts II: Final Mix Recap: Olympus Coliseum (Pain and Panic Cup)

First of all, shout-out to Mudarrow’s KH2:FM Proud Mode walkthrough! That’s what I’m using for research in conjunction with KH Wiki! I figured I’d share that tidbit now since I should REALLY be crediting my sources.

Also, one thing I forgot to mention: All Limits have a “Limit Gauge” that runs out very quickly when you don’t use their commands, so they will stop on their own if you don’t use the finisher.

Upon arrival in the Entrance to the Underworld, Sora, Donald, and Goofy note that there don’t appear to be any Heartless or Nobodies around.

There is, however, a large stadium of some kind on the other side of the River Styx (or is it the River Lethe? I don’t know which Underworld River this one is, and Disney took so many creative liberties I’m not sure what hints I could rely on).

They don’t know what it is, but Auron explains that it’s the Underdrome.

It’s Hades’ personal Coliseum, where Fiends of the Underworld once clashed endlessly.

However, Zeus didn’t like the senseless violence, so he locked it up.

SDG want to know how it got unlocked.

“Some fool must’ve gone and unsealed it,” Auron figures.

“What an idiot,” Sora replies, completely unaware of the irony.

Auron walks off, and when Sora suggests they could get caught up, Auron instead insists he go check in on his friends as the camera pans over to the gates that lead “upstairs”.

Auron is gone by the time they look back.

We then meet Pain and Panic.

Panic tells SDG to talk to him if they want to enter a tournament, and Pain lets them know that Hades was gracious enough to make it nonlethal.

And if you win, you’ll earn fabulous prizes.

Plus, more tournaments will be added from time to time.

Currently, the only available tournament is the Pain and Panic cup.

All enemies are level 25.

There are 10 rounds.

The gimmick is that you can’t use Drive Forms, but Limits consume less MP.

Also, the enemies don’t give you EXP of any kind.

Instead,t hey drop score prizes that increase your score. Winning with a score of 2,000 or greater will mark the tournament as complete in Jiminy’s Journal.

Round 4 has Hot Rods, so use your anti Hot Rod strategies.

Round 8 is a repeat of the Rapid Thruster Horde from the Land of Dragons, so you only have to survive 80 seconds.

Round 10 pits you against Leon and Yuffie.

Yuffie can no longer heal, but she can still jump around and teleport.

She can either perform a two-hit melee combo with her Shuriken, or jump into the air and yeet it at you.

Leon is the more dangerous of the two. He has two separate melee attacks he can perform with his Gunblade (either charging forward and performing a multihit combo, or slashing sideways twice before slashing away), and can also “unleash his fighting spirit” to power up his blade the same way he did in KH1 to enhance ALL of his attacks.

When you beat the Tournament, you’re taken to the awards ceremony, and Pain and Panic display the trophy in the Underworld Entrance.

As for your “fabulous prizes”?

You get a Protect Belt (armor item, +3 defense), and a Serenity Stone (synthesis material).

That’s all for the Tournament, but remember what I said about the Absent Silhouette? How I’d be covering it “later” when I had a good place to fit it.

Upon challenging the Absent Silhouette, SDG are taken to the storm tossed island, where said Absent Silhouette transforms into Zexion.

Zexion only has one attack, trapping SDG inside of Books. It cannot be blocked.

If Donald or Goofy are trapped in books, Sora will have to destroy the books to release them.

If Sora is trapped by this attack, then he gets transported to a nightmare dimension (along with both Donald and Goofy, releasing them from their own books if they were caught), where he must find and destroy the book that holds Zexion, while a bunch of fake books fly around.

Zexion can continue to attack Sora in this state, sealing his command menu (forcing Sora to use a reaction Command to turn the pages of the command menu until he finds the command to revert it to normal), dash around Sora and attack him while invisible, or a couple of more advanced attacks that can’t be summarized easily:

If Zexion traps Sora inside a book while Sora is already trapped in the nightmare dimension, then Sora will have to use the “Struggle” Reaction Command 10 times to escape it. Using it 10 times will generate the prompt for “Reset” which releases Sora. Using it 10 times in quick succession will generate the prompt for “Break” which frees Sora from the book and deals damage to the one Zexion is hiding in.

His most dangerous attack is one that clears out all the Books but 3, places them in the center of the room under 3 spotlights, and then flashes between the three books like some kind of roulette.

Once a spotlight has been chosen, meteor’s rain down.

Whichever book the roulette lands on is where SDG need to stand to avoid getting hit by the meteor barrage Zexion summons.

On the plus side, the book the roulette stops on will ALWAYS be the one holding Zexion, so this is also an opening.

Once the book holding Zexion has had its HP depleted, Sora gains the “Dispel” Reaction Command, which dispels the illusion of the Nightmare Dimension and allows SDG to continue fighting Zexion.

Once Zexion is defeated, he reverts back to an Absent Silhouette, and the Absent Silhouette fades from existence.

Sora gets an item slot.

Donald gets 3 more Max HP.

Goofy gets Damage Control (Damage is halved at low HP).

You also get the Book of Shadows (recipe for the Shadow Archive and Shadow Archive + accessories) and a Lost Illusion (Synthesis Material).

That’s it for Olympus Coliseum for now.

Next time, we cover one of those two Disney Worlds that was unlocked upon clearing Timeless River.

See you then.

Man has a complicated bossfight!

#submission

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paperanddice · 1 year

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Another of the Christmas heroes for my one shot game, Jack Frost was recruited to provide heavy magical firepower. Immensely powerful frost spells, bringing the winds of winter down upon enemies of the planet in a way he never has before, Jack Frost intends to ensure the world reaches the next winter. Even if he has to freeze a hundred eldritch evil worshipping fools to do so.

This stat block is not well balanced for actual use as an opponent. It is intended for a player to take this stat block and use it in a high combat one shot to save the world from being devoured by an eldritch abomination, and so it's not balanced against regular monsters.

This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Jack Frost Medium elemental, true neutral Armor Class 13 (or 16 with mage armor) Hit Points 130 (20d8 + 40) Speed 30 ft., fly 30 ft. Str 9 (-1) Dex 16 (+3) Wis 14 (+2) Int 20 (+5) Wis 14 (+2) Cha 17 (+3) Saving Throws Con +7, Int +10, Wis +7 Skills Stealth +8 Damage Immunities cold Damage Vulnerabilities fire Senses passive Perception 12 Languages all Challenge 14 (11500 XP) First Frost Of Winter. If Jack Frost is killed, he returns to life with full hit points on the first frost of the next winter. Frost Over. Whenever Jack Frost would deal acid, fire, lightning or thunder damage with a spell, he instead deals cold damage. When he deals cold damage to a creature, the target's speed is reduced by 10 feet, to a minimum of 5 feet, until the end of its next turn. Actions Multiattack. Jack Frost makes three Freezing Touch or Frost Bolt attacks. Freezing Touch. Melee Spell Attack: +10 to hit, reach 5 ft., one creature. Hit: 14 (4d6) cold damage. Frost Bolt. Ranged Spell Attack: +10 to hit, range 60 ft., one creature. Hit: 10 (3d6) cold damage. Winter Wind. Jack Frost blasts a line of freezing cold wind 60 feet long and 10 feet wide that lasts until the start of his next turn. Each creature that starts its turn in that line must succeed on a DC 18 Constitution saving throw or take 9 (2d8) cold damage and be pushed 15 feet away from Jack in a direction following the line. Any creature in the line must spend 2 feet of movement for every 1 foot it moves when moving closer to Jack. Spellcasting. Jack Frost casts one of the following spells, requiring no material components and using Intelligence as the spellcasting ability (+10 to hit with spell attacks, spell save DC 18): At will: armor of Agathys, fog cloud, ice storm, mage armor, sleet storm 3/day each: cone of cold, fire shield, flesh to ice (as flesh to stone, but ice), invisibility, slow 1/day: firestorm, incindiary cloud, Otiluke's freezing sphere, wall of ice

#D&D #dnd #dungeons and dragons #5th edition #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #elemental #dnd cr 14 #long post #Christmas

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chenziee · 1 year

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Like the sun...

First of my pieces for the amazing @opluffyzine :D First time writing Reiju but I quite like how she turned out (she's a Luffy fan like the rest of us now #canon)

The zine's aftersale's are open right now so go check it out and give yourself a Christmas present (or you know... just treat yourself, you deserve it) <3

[ Read on AO3 | Ko-Fi | Zine Store ]

----------

Reiju couldn’t believe it. When she had seen Sanji arrive at Whole Cake Island, she had thought it was all over for him, that his hard-earned years of freedom were finished. All because of their father’s ridiculous ambition. But what neither she, nor their father and brothers—and obviously not even Sanji—had expected, were people chasing after him.

She was honestly surprised when she and Yonji ran into the Straw Hat crew out at sea on the outskirts of Totto Land, and even more surprised at the state their captain was in. She had to wonder how he even managed to ingest that much armored stone fish poison, nevermind surviving it. She could only silently marvel at this boy’s luck in meeting the one person who could save him at that point.

However, she was sure that if the Straw Hats didn’t turn back, their luck would run out very soon. There was a limit to such fancies of fate and they would need nothing short of a miracle to get as deep into Totto Land’s territory as they had intended.

Even while they were riding the carriage taking all the Vinsmokes over to Big Mom’s castle, everything still seemed hopeless. No way out, no means of escape, no room to hide; not even a will to run. Not until their coachman pointed out the large figure charging at them from the direction of the forest.

“Your majesty, something is approaching!”

Reiju frowned slightly, leaning forward to see past her father. Was that… a tree? And someone waving from the top of it?

“Hey! Sanji!” the person shouted right then. “Haven’t seen ya in a while!”

Reiju could barely believe her ears. It definitely sounded like Straw Hat Luffy, Sanji’s cute little captain. It seemed like the man’s luck and determination ran deeper than Reiju had given him credit for and she felt a smile pull on her lips. It was quite refreshing.

But then Sanji spoke up behind her, his voice weak and shaky, “What are they doing here?”

With that simple sentence, it was obvious what Sanji’s answer was going to be. Still, that knowledge didn’t make hearing Sanji speak like a Vinsmoke any easier, any less devastating, and Reiju only hoped Straw Hat wouldn’t blame Sanji.

Unfortunately, it would probably take yet another miracle for that. Reiju didn’t want to watch the following fight; she could see Sanji’s heart breaking with every kick he threw Straw Hat's way, yet, for some reason, she couldn’t look away either. The way Straw Hat took every hit, not even trying to block a single one, the way he refused to back down, saying he wasn’t going to fight Sanji… It was something Reiju had never seen in her life.

She had witnessed countless fights, fought countless people herself, and she had met countless pirates. But this boy was simply something else entirely.

And, as shocking and painful as this scene was to witness, her smile widened the slightest bit.

"You can kick me all you want but you're the one feeling the pain!" Straw Hat screamed after the retreating carriage.

Reiju couldn't even say she was surprised by Straw Hat's words in the end. Yet, she was still incredibly happy to hear them—happy Sanji got to hear them. Happy her little brother had found people who loved him this much and had the power and will needed to act on it.

And even with the gates of Whole Cake Chateau closed tightly shut behind them, Straw Hat's words still echoed around them. "Come back, Sanji! Without your help I can't become the King of the Pirates!"

They were inside the castle now, but Reiju still felt the dark skies above part just a little bit.

There was yet a small ray of light above.

----------

Listening to Sanji retell what he had seen and heard in Pudding's room, Reiju was surprised by the feeling of relief that washed over her. For one, Sanji finally had no reason to stay. There would be no wedding, no alliance, and no threat to the hostages come tomorrow. There weren’t even any bombs on his wrists.

And two, Germa 66 was as good as dead.

The only problem was Sanji’s kindness. How do you convince someone selfless like Sanji to let people die? Reiju didn’t know. She had tried and tried but she knew it was hopeless. For her, anyway.

She had to leave it to the person who appeared to have the power to sway the tides of fate itself.

As if on cue, there was a loud crash outside the medical room, followed by shouts that got louder and louder with every passing second. What did she say about luck and fate? It was honestly so incredible that it was absurd.

It didn’t take Straw Hat very long to speed past the door Reiju was hiding behind. Quickly dragging him inside, Reiju took in the state he was in; ragged clothes, wounds and dirt all over, a missing tooth, cheeks hollow as if he hadn’t eaten for days. A complete mess, yet so desperate to reach Sanji—and not even being quiet about it even though he was running all over the Chateau, Big Mom’s very own castle.

“We’ve been tricked, Pudding lied to us! The very girl Sanji’s getting married to said she’s going to kill him—” Straw Hat stopped suddenly, blinking at Reiju with a slight frown on his face. “Are you okay? You got hurt?” he asked then, gesturing to her thigh.

Reiju chuckled at the concern. “I’m fine,” she said, dismissing him. You really should worry more about yourself right now, she added to herself as she shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “And don’t worry, my brother knows about Pudding.”

“What?! He knew?” Straw Hat cried.

The genuine shock on his face got quickly replaced by rage, however, when Reiju explained the situation Sanji was in—or the situation he thought he was in.

“Hostages? You mean the Baratie?! I know them!” Straw Hat said, nearly shaking in anger. “If they’re really in danger, I’ll go back to the East Blue to fight if I have to!”

Reiju blinked, taken completely aback by the declaration. But before she could so much as ask if he was serious, a loud growl came from Straw Hat’s stomach.

“Do you… need something to eat?” she asked uncertainly.

“N-No, I’m fine!” the boy replied immediately, a bit too loud and a bit too forceful. Like he was trying to convince both Reiju and himself that he wasn’t hungry after all.

His words from the day before echoed in Reiju’s mind. ‘I won’t eat anyone’s food but yours anymore!’ When he had said it, Reiju had thought he was exaggerating but looking at him now, weak and tired and with stomach empty, she could tell he had been dead serious. And she found she couldn’t say anything in that moment; not about his hunger and not about Sanji. Both of those were now fully in Straw Hat’s hands. And so, she only watched silently while the pirate gathered himself, breathing heavily as he tried to calm his complaining stomach.

Finally, after a few moments, he got up to his feet. And whatever it was that Reiju expected to see, to hear, it certainly wasn’t this wide, happy smile or the relieved tone of his next words.

“But at least now I know Sanji’s aware what Pudding’s up to! As long as he’s not being tricked, I’ve done everything else I can!” he announced, looking perfectly satisfied with everything.

“Wha—” Reiju only managed to say before getting interrupted.

“Thanks, Sanji’s sister!” Straw Hat called, his hand raised in a wave even while he turned on his heel and started running towards the window.

Reiju’s eyes widened at the suddenness of the situation. And why the window?! “Where are you going?! That’s not—”

She was cut off again, this time by the loud crash of glass breaking, and she could only stare with an open mouth after the man. Did he seriously just jump out of the window, at this height?!

“I made him a promise, but it’s not here!”

His last words repeated themselves in her head over and over while she tried to process what just happened. It was only when people started screaming all the way down at the foot of the Chateau that she finally broke out of her stupor.

And Reiju… laughed.

Laughed, because of the absurdity. Laughed, because she didn’t know what else to do. Laughed, because of the relief. This man, this pirate, was certainly something; a raw force of nature, maybe. Sanji truly was in good hands now.

Letting her head fall back, Reiju stared at the ceiling above, wondering when exactly the dark clouds disappeared.

#one piece #luffy #monkey d. luffy #strawhat luffy #reiju #vinsmoke reiju #reiju & luffy #reiju & sanji #luffy & sanji #canonverse #reiju pov #whole cake island #whole cake island arc #luffy zine #zine stuff #katie pretends to fic #like the sun #zines

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reddus-sideblog · 2 years

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M.E.R.C.s - Crossfire (Part 1)

7-21-890 AR

The alarm buzzed. The masked mercenary looked at his wrist watch, before turning off the alarm. 11:00 AM. The first team should be moving in soon. He leaned back against the squat stairwell hut and keyed his radio twice, and within moments he received two sets of confirming clicks from the other teams. Even with their encryption chips it paid to be secretive with communications, especially in a corporate sector like Naperton that was a stone’s throw away from a federal police precinct.

Bones hazarded a glance out from the cover he sat in, peeking out at the Power Motors Incorporated building that was half a city block away. It all looked like business as usual, no high alert lights, no lockdown shutters, no sign of security guards or corporate soldiers. Things were going right for once. The ex-soldier developed a little smirk beneath the skull-emblazoned balaclava. Maybe today wouldn’t be a horrible mess.

“All good?” asked the rookie to his right. Her tone was only half-interested, as she was occupied with assembling the anti-material rifle that she was kneeling in front of.

“Nothin’ out of the ordinary, anyways,” Bones replied, trying his best to sound like a responsible team leader.

Cash, the young lady next to him, was one of the M.E.R.C.s he had hired on for this mission. The girl had been with the Mercenary-Contractor Association for a few years now, and had been a part of the M-CA’s Youth Program before becoming a full member.

This hit on the PMI building needed a bit more manpower than the handler usually had at his command, so he had brought on some additional help. The rookie was a bit of a gamble, but she had a reputation as a half-decent sharpshooter, and Bones couldn’t afford to be too picky. Even though Cash was a bit rough around the edges, she listened to the older M.E.R.C. and did as she was told.

Bones remembered when he was a young buck in the Newland City Self Defense Force, listening to his commanding officer and patrolling through the civil war-wracked Souther Bay. It really had been a different time. Now he was back in Newland, sitting on top of some building in Illigan, in the act of executing an attack against one of the city-states largest heavy industry corporations.

Under the pretext of checking his own rifle over, Bones surreptitiously watched Cash assemble the anti-materiel rifle he’d purchased for the mission. He hadn’t even had a chance to put the weapon together himself, as it had been delivered just before Bones had left for the team’s meeting place. From behind his sunglasses Bones watched Cash’s sharp eyes go over each piece before slotting it into the weapon. The blonde girl had an intense look about her face that never seemed to go away, as though everything that she looked at was actively pissing her off. The fierce appearance was only added to by the eye shadow she had smudged under her eyes to reduce glare. The golden hair on Cash’s scalp was pulled back into a small ponytail to keep it from getting into her eyes as she worked, while the short hair on either side of the ponytail was left to hang.

The two of them were dressed to differing standards, with Cash just wearing an open flak vest over her tanktop and short shorts. She didn’t carry much more than the huge rifle and a good number of extra magazines for it. Bones on the other hand was clad in body armor from the neck down, and as the day wore on he was beginning to regret it. The sun was approaching its zenith, and he was going to start cooking in his armor soon.

Still, he thought to himself, better to suffer a bit of heat exhaustion than terminal lead poisoning.

The last parts of the AMR clacked into place as Cash finished putting the weapon together. She racked the bolt, throwing a high-velocity round into the chamber before turning towards Bones, a smug look on her face.

“Ready to fuck.”

Bones nodded, checking his watch. 11:03AM. Ariadne and Karsyn should be at the server room within the next seven minutes, then the real mission would start.

***

The sergeant paced back and forth up the starboard side of the monitor’s length. The light breeze was fluttering her shin-length white coat with each of her lengthy strides, and tousling her long hair that was tied in an elaborate, net-like braid along the left side of her face. Her face was screwed up in a look of concentration that made her look like the ship’s deck had offended her somehow, as she bore down on it with her sideways-slitted, blue eyes. She drummed her fingers on her shotgun’s barrel as she went over the mission’s outline like a litany.

Take the prisoner from the private holding cell in the Bergell security building. Take the prisoner aboard the Seabrisket and transport them to the Haysau Sector dock. Give him over to Tech-Seer Ilos at the parish the next sector over.

It wasn’t a hard job, really, but Sergeant Maisie Stone couldn’t stop pinning her ears back and flicking her braided tail. The equine chimera wasn’t convinced that the mission would be that simple. Something always happened along to make a cakewalk into a miserable scramble for life and limb.

The Holy Mercenary Brigade hardly ever had easy jobs thrust upon them, but the sergeant felt like she always ended up picking the shortest straw when missions were up for grabs. This one was seemingly easy, but a pessimistic attitude usually paid off in her experience. More than that, though, sticking to the plan she had constructed for the operation would surely see them through.

Sergeant Stone stopped her pacing to make her way to the back of the vessel. The Seabrisket was a well-armed canal monitor, with a faded red paint job giving way to similarly colored rust all along her length. Despite the rust the ship was still solidly armored, and her quartet of guns did inspire some confidence in the handler.

Stepping over the starboard machine gun nest, the mercenary continued aft towards the Seabrisket’s engine compartment. Maisie banged on the upwards-facing shutter a few times, announcing herself in her standard Arkgomery drawl.

“Open up private, it’s just me.”

The latch on the shutter clicked from inside the engine compartment and one of the doors swung open. The white-clad chimera was met by a similarly dressed human youth. The iconic kevlar-padded coat of the Holy Mercenary Brigade was a bit large on Private Evan Theos, but he wore it with some dignity (though he had rolled up the sleeves). When the scrawny boy had shown up that morning to join the mission he had looked well-groomed, but his nice, combed hair was actively becoming messier by the hour, despite how much the brigade’s hat hid most of it.

Like the other members of the 3rd Illigan Brigade of the Holy Mercenary Brigades, Theos wore a white cowboy hat with a brim that was upturned on either side, with a cord to tighten it around one’s head and the holy symbol of the Divine Church emblazoned on its brow. Hats varied from brigade to brigade, with some using berets, some others even using caps. It was a way to keep organized while en masse, and it allowed different brigades to identify each other easily enough.

Sergeant Stone straightened the private’s hat wordlessly, making the young man’s face flush with embarrassment. She looked past the young mercenary into the engine compartment, looking over the captive that was being stowed in the armored box.

“He hasn’t been any trouble, ma’am. He’s stayed out like a light for most of the trip,” said Theos, saluting a bit too late. He was raising his voice to speak over the rumbling engine he stood next to.

The sergeant returned the late salute, continuing to look at the tied up man. The devilkin was gagged, had his limbs bound, and was blindfolded on top of having been dosed with anesthetic before the M.E.R.C.s had picked him up. He was a bit battered and probably hadn’t been treated particularly well since being captured, but he was still holding on. The drab gray colors of the NCSDF’s urban camouflage nearly made the captive officer blend in with the metallic tones of the engine room, but his silvery-white hair and black horns made him stand out well enough, especially among the rest of the Seabrisket’s Divinist crew.

The soldier that the Holy Mercenaries were transporting was a highly valuable asset to the Divine Church, and Sergeant Stone was ready to go to extreme lengths to ensure that he was brought into their custody. While the rest of her squad would go along with the operation unquestioningly, the sergeant was very aware of just how much was riding on their successful delivery. The prisoner, Captain Steffanson, was a member of the Newland City Self Defense Force’s 4th Subterranean Division, and was part of a patrol group which had happened upon a monumental discovery. While hunting down some underground smugglers a squad under the captain’s command had found some long-buried ruins that held a large quantity of unidentified oldtech.

While the NCSDF had little interest in the ruins, they had a number of corporate bidders lining up to put in an offer on the location. Each of those corporations certainly had their own designs on the cache, but the Divine Church wanted it even more. Last night when Captain Steffanson was walking home alone he was arrested on trumped up charges by the Bergell sector’s private security force, and held in the station, at the request of one of the Church’s higher ups. In short, it was shady business as usual.

The chimera, however, wasn’t afraid to take on jobs with questionable morality; she'd left behind such qualms when she had joined the brigade ten years back. Along with that she truly believed that technology was the domain of the Divine faith, and Newland’s corporate scavengers were being presumptuous at best in taking ownership of the dig site. At worst it was nothing other than outright heresy.

The hatch to the engine room opened, and another one of the sergeant’s subordinates poked his head in. Private Mills looked up through the rumbling engine room at the sergeant, while giving a quick salute that ruffled his curly black hair.

“Hey ma’am, we’re almost at the docks but uh… there’s a bit of a complication up ahead. Corporal Accion sent me to get you.”

“Of fucking course there is,” Sergeant Stone said mostly to herself before closing the shutter to the engine compartment.

Striding to the prow of the Seabrisket the squad’s handler joined one of her two corporals, the huge android one. The chimera crossed her arms as she looked at the pair of NCSDF boats that were blockading the canal up ahead. None of the Holy Mercenaries had been able to see the cordon as they were sitting just around a curve in the high-walled, concrete canal. It was also too late to reverse, as the sudden retreat would look far too conspicuous to the waiting military personnel. A number of SDF marines were milling about the deck of a tugboat that was ahead of the mercenary’s own ship, idly poking around.

“Got a plan, ma’am?” asked Corporal Accion, glancing at the sergeant with his camera “eye” sidelong.

In a previous life Accion had been a labor android, and it showed. He stood well above Maisie’s decent height, and was at least twice as broad. He barely fit into the standard Holy Mercenary white coat, and opted to wear it tied around his waist, rather than shred the coat’s arms with his enormous synthmuscled limbs. Otherwise he wore gear usually utilized by the heavy androids United Zones Machine Corps, bleached white and gray, as few other articles of clothing could fit his hefty form. The construction of his head was simple, though he had added additional armor plating to it in the past. The plate that formed his “brow” sat directly above his single camera, giving him the appearance of a permanent look of consternation.

The sergeant scowled for a few moments. It was only natural that something like this would come up. She pushed her black and white hair behind her shoulder as a smile crept onto her face.

“It’s a bad one, but you better believe I do.”

***

The elevator dinged before the doors slid open. A devilkin and an android stepped out onto the fourteenth floor of the Power Motors Incorporated Illigan central headquarters. Before they could walk any further a PMI corpsec was trotting towards them.

“Hey hey, you two have your security badges ri-”

A staccato of noise came from the elevator as the squad of drones unleashed a quiet fusilade on the security officer from their suppressed SMGs. He was dead before he tumbled down to the laminate floor.

The android stepped over the man’s body, carefully avoiding the spreading pool of blood. With the distraction removed she mentally commanded her A-5 drones out of the elevator. Each one of them was humanoid, though less so than their android commander. While Ariadne had synthflesh to cover and aid her more mechanical components, the drones were skeletal, with boxy, forward-facing rectangular heads that made their mechanical nature evident. While no one could mistake the android for a human, her faceplate and general assembly were quite human, even if she did have four cameras.

Without turning, Ariadne noted that Karsyn, her devilkin ally, had stopped over the dead security officer. The android kept walking and watched through one of her drones as the devilkin ran her blade through the deadman’s chest. As she withdrew her lustrous silver blade it was coated in blood, which she quickly wiped off with a filthy rag attached to her belt.

She looked at the observing drone’s camera with her scarred face, “Making sure he’s dead. Some people have a nasty habit of getting up just when you think they’re dead.”

“Fine,” replied Ariadne through the drone’s vocoder, “Just don’t fall behind.”

The android continued deeper into the mostly empty floor, moving towards the server wall that held the files she had been sent to obtain. She only had a few scant minutes to get into position and start downloading the engine design files into the heavy duty data drive that she had brought along. The drive was the size of a large encyclopedia, and about as heavy. The device’s case was designed to keep any digital information within safe from bullets, blasts, and submersion, and it had cost a good few bullion.

The android cradled the drive in her arms, holding it against the plate carrier strapped to her lavender frame. She didn’t need to keep her hands free to order the drones under her mental control around, all of that was managed by the cybernetic systems that connected to her main processor and the radio control pack she carried on her back. In short she was bedecked in wires, after-market parts, and armor. Karsyn was also armored, though her chest piece looked more like some piece of metal forged in the depths of Hell, as it was a uniform charred black with Infernal sigils engraved across it. The plating, alongside her longsword and shrapnel-scarred face, made the devilkin appear like some warrior from the Age of Chaos, while Ariadne looked like the ultimate, cutting edge development in drone controlling.

Finally finding her quarry the android honed in on a particular server rack, and unspooled her hardwire line as she squatted down in front of the dense, humming stack of computers. Ariadne quickly identified the necessary ports and readied her connections, hooking herself and the datadrive up. Before wholly commiting to the hacking she sent two of her drones to move the dead body and prepared the other three to ambush anyone from the Power Motors company who happened along. Karsyn stalked between the server rows, getting rid of any remaining security staff and unlucky IT workers.

Once she had her mechanical servants in place the android opened her mental link to the server and began searching for the file. The jobs given to the rest of the team were more dangerous, to be sure, but the success or failure of the mission hinged on Ariadne finding the classified engine specifications and stealing the information. Everything else was just protection and set dressing.

Finding the file was none too hard. Decrypting it, though, would take time, and that had to be done before it could be copied onto the drive, which would also take a bit of time. Time that she hoped the other team would be able to provide with their “distraction”.

***

Chaplain Eckord prepared himself mentally for the inspection. The sergeant’s plan wasn’t great, but it would buy them a few seconds to get past the blockade. He did wish that Stone’s plans relied less on murder and brute force, though.

The android would have sighed if he had lungs. The tech-overseer had said that serving with the Holy Mercenary Brigades would be trying, but he didn’t mention that it would be trying him every single day of work with the brigade. For better or for worse he was saddled with this lot of mercenaries, and in doing so had become very familiar with performing last rites.

The sound of additional bootsteps on the Seabrisket’s deck, only audible as the engine slowed down to a light chug, indicated they had been boarded by the SDF soldiers. As he listened Eckord glanced at the captive officer he was sharing the engine room with. This man was simply a victim of circumstance, and a pawn in the church’s grander schemes. While Eckord did certainly believe that the oldtech the Self Defense Force captain knew about was the property of the church, he lacked the conviction that would lead him to capture and interrogate a person in this manner. The android did not imagine himself timid, but he hardly had the zeal and conviction Sergeant Stone could muster at the most difficult of times.

The stark white android recomposed himself, adjusting his admittedly ill-fitting robes and tried to keep track of what was happening outside of the cramped engine room. The young man across from Eckord, Private Theos, had been minding the prisoner alone before the chaplain had moved to the ship’s rear.

The actual fighters in the squad were preparing in the fore section of the ship, and Eckord preferred to keep his head down when the lead was about to start flying. No one really expected the android to use a weapon, either. He had originally been constructed as an accountant android, and while that station was many lifetimes ago, it still meant that he had a mind for numbers rather than violence. His vertically-oriented eyes were not ideally suited for using a weapon’s sights, or keeping aware in the middle of combat to boot.

There was talking outside. He couldn’t make out just what was being said, but he could certainly make out Sergeant Stone talking to some men. The private and the chaplain exchanged a look, neither one being overly sure of how things were going, and neither wanting to comment on the situation. The young man drew the machine pistol from his holster, but didn’t hold it at the ready. Neither Eckord nor Evan knew where a threat would come from, but having a gun in hand certainly soothed one’s nerves.

The armored door to the main crew compartment from the outside deck opened. More people moved around. Eckord and Private Theos looked towards the source of the sounds. The door closed quickly. There was a brief sound of struggle and fighting just beyond the door to the engine room. Some horrific crunching noises, a gurgle. And then it went quiet again.

The two Divinists in the engine room felt a wave of ease wash over them. The monitor would be underway in a moment, and its armor would shrug off the machine guns that the barricade would bring to bear. Now understaffed from the men that the M.E.R.C.s had slain, the patrol boats would be much less of a threat, and the getaway would be that much easier.

Then there were footsteps, and the hatch above Evan opened. He had forgotten to lock it after talking with the sergeant, and it seemed like one of the soldiers hadn’t gone inside the Seabrisket’s crew cabin. Eckord looked in surprise that turned to horror as he saw the SDF soldier looking down the hatch into the engine room. The android froze, utterly unsure of what to do.

The soldier grabbed his radio with one hand, his SMG pointing down into the room as he began talking quickly, “Priority one, priority one, this boat has a captive soldier. I think I’ve found the captai-”

The marine’s message was cut short by a burst of gunfire, which was answered in kind. The NCSDF soldier and the Holy Mercenary across from the chaplain both fell limp. The private’s unworn body armor fell off the bench he was sitting on as he fell forwards, now well beyond useless. Eckord leapt across the small room to grab Evan. The young mercenary was gushing blood from a dense cluster of gunshot wounds through his chest, staining his white coat red at an alarming pace. Eckord tried to stop the bleeding, but only coated his synthetic hands in the young man’s blood.

The door to the crew compartment flew open as Corporal Accion’s huge frame blocked the doorway for a moment. His single camera went wide as surveyed the situation.

“Medic! MEDIC! HELP EVAN NOW!” Accion bellowed, pulling back from the doorframe to let the team’s medic through.

“”We need to go! They know we have the captain now!” Eckord proclaimed, still clinging to the horrendously injured private.

A sudden rain of lead began as one of the patrol boats fired on the Seabrisket. The shells smashed into the monitor’s armor, but had little effect. The armor would hold, at least.

“Riley, get back there dammit! Schneider, get the engine into gear, we need to move!”

The engine roared to thunderous life as Eckord laid the private on the floor to let the medic go to work. Private Riley arrived, throwing a large, backpack sized medical kit onto the greasy deck of the engine room. The chaplain helped as best he could, following every instruction that Private Riley gave him.

Nothing worked. The extra blood, the biofoam, the sutures, all of it only prolonged the inevitable. The soldier’s burst of close-ranged fire had simply obliterated the boy’s heart, ripping his spine apart, and reducing his chest cavity to a heterogenous mixture of bone, organ meat, and blood. He was already dead before Private Riley began working on him.

Eckord bowed his head as watched another human life slip away before his optics. Riley seemed unable to let the death go, and he simply began sobbing, the tears streaming out of his eyes into his thick beard. The chaplain knew the pain of losing comrades and friends much younger than himself, and he would have shed tears at this point as well if he were physically capable of doing it.

Eckord began rehearsing the Final Rite of Shutdown over his young friend’s body.

“Almighty Machine-Lord, See you the end of this unit’s mortal service, And let him now reside in your heavenly domain hereafter. Let there be succor to those who survive him, that they too may know your love.”

Having intoned the prayer the chaplain pulled his blood-slicked hands apart from their praying position. He had done all he could for the deceased private, and it was all in the hand of the Machina thereafter. Eckord rose and withdrew to the crew compartment to inform the sergeant of Private Theos’ passing.

The crew compartment of the Seabrisket was cramped, and made only more so by the bodies of the murdered SDF soldiers lain against the rear wall. The cabin was filled with the rattling of machine guns as the Holy Mercenaries unleashed fire onto the NCSDF ship off the starboard side. It seemed that at least one of the patrol boats was keeping pace as the M.E.R.C.s broke the cordon. Keeping up with the monitor was no real feat, as the armor and weapons on the ship made its top speed well below a patrol boat’s limit.

Eckord barely kept his footing, as the motion of the moving boat, the rattle of gunfire, and the pangs of impacting rounds filled the bunker-like cabin. He moved towards the central, raised helmsman’s seat, in which sat Corporal Schneider, with Sergeant Stone holding on to the seat’s frame.

“Sergeant Stone, ma’am?” asked Eckord, loudly.

“What’s Private Theos’ status, chaplain?”

“D-deceased, ma’am.”

The chimera didn’t turn to face the android, rather she bowed her head for a moment before inhaling deeply like she always did. Eckord had seen Sergeant Stone given the news of her subordinates and comrades deaths at least a dozen times now, she never let it slow her down. The chaplain wasn’t sure if he should admire her composure or be worried about her being able to keep it at times like this.

“Fine,” she said eventually, through gritted teeth, “We have bigger problems right now. We’ve gotta ditch the SDF guys and get our prisoner to the drop off point.”

Eckord nodded. At the moment the sergeant’s focus helped him keep his mind on the mission. It wasn’t comforting, but moping in an active combat area was far less healthy than being focused on a goal.

“Shit!” proclaimed Schneider as surveyed the canal ahead.

The android and the chimera both looked over the dark-skinned, blonde human’s shoulders, through the armored slit that was the monitor’s front window. A massive, mechanical silhouette was wading into the canal a couple of blocks away. The machine was armored like a tank, but stood upright on two heavily armored legs. The body supported by the legs was hefty, almost shaped like a more conventional armored vehicle. It mounted a large cannon on one side of its chassis, supplemented by a pair of machine guns on the forefront “chin” of the vehicle, and a rack of rockets on the opposite side from the cannon. It, much like the patrol boat that had begun falling back from the Seabrisket, was adorned in the unmistakable blue and gold of the Newland City Self Defense Force.

“A fucking stand tank. Just our luck,” said Sergeant Stone from between gritted teeth.

#Ashlands RPG #M.E.R.C.s

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kariachi · 2 years

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I have accomplished getting an early part of the ‘Mike on Osmos V’ storyline down!

And so, we get his arrival and introduction to some of the major players of the next few years of his life.

While it wasn’t technically accurate to say Mike had never left his home planet, travel to other dimensions came with a very different feel from travelling between worlds. The wait alone to get from Earth to an entirely different part of the galaxy was enough to eat away at a person. It was only a few days, but when you were stuck in a cell and so couldn’t even enjoy the supposed view (something something “if you get yourself together-”) without so much as a book to occupy you, you’d be wanting to bite somebody too.

Not that the urge was anything new, it’d been there for years before he started feeding off people, but the point still stood. The time dragged along. Still, even he had to admit that as far an imprisonments went this one so far topped the little chart he’d begun making. Not that the bar was very high. It was only really competing with his time in Earth’s Plumber base, waiting to the dragged off, and the Inspectors had looked about ready to take out the whole organization themselves when they’d seen their little set-up.

He almost liked them for that. Almost. Under different circumstances, maybe. As it was, they had far too much control of the situation for his tastes. Though they were kind enough to warn him before they came in to land at least.

Landing a ship on Osmos V, it turned out, was not a peaceful maneuver. At first, yes, but once you hit wind level you knew it. Mike didn’t like flying under power not his own at the best of times, but doing so when locked in a cell, when the ship was more averaging out to level than staying that way, and you could hear the wind buffeting against the hull? Brought things to a whole new level. And they went so slow, he’d have sworn it was hours before the ship stopped at what he had to assume was the ground. Hoped was the ground. Never in his life had he wanted to have dirt under his boots more.

“Still in one piece, Michael,” Inspector Vares chimed as they opened the door, Mike composing himself as soon as he’d heard them approaching.

“Somehow. I take it neither of you actually know how to fly?” The worst part about dealing with professionals, there wasn’t even a hint of a rise from Vares. They merely huffed.

“There’s only so much knowing helps around here,” they said, “but we’re all safely on the ground now.” Oh thank Keal. Stepping out of the doorway, the Inspector motioned him out. He took his sweet time, just because he could. “Welcome home, Fane chick.”

No attempt was made to bind or hold him as they walked to the exit, Inspector Uhaoe quickly joining them, and the reason was obvious as soon as the door opened.

In one direction there was a mountain range, but all others Mike could see presented nothing but sparkling sand desert as far as the eye could see, all blue-greens, reds, whites, and greys. The sky, what you could see of it through the sand the wind whipped through the air, was a dusty teal, and the dry heat absolute murder. Even if he’d tried to escape, where would he go? And how would he survive with no supplies? He was a city boy, even in the best of circumstances he was only an eighth built for this. All there even was to see besides the mountains was a small herd of massive bugs that he consciously avoided shying away from- no animal should’ve been that large, none of them, ever- and a stone shelter that seemed to lead into the earth.

His new home, presumably.

The Inspectors flanked him as the three of them headed for the shelter, the two with metal armors and Uhaoe shielding Mike from the wind and sand. It wasn’t too great a distance, maybe half a block’s worth, but the conditions were far from ideal, and it was obvious that all three of them were more than happy to slip indoors. Even a few generations removed from full Ossy blood, a degree of tension slipped from Mike’s muscles in the tunnel. Every wall, the ceiling and floor, were all covered in colorful, if worn, mosaics, with webbing and the occasional massive spider-like creature on the ceiling lighting the path.

Only a few yards down they were met with company. Two other Osmosians, both with bronze hides and wearing the oranges, blues, and greens of the clan, tails twitching from side to side as they watched them. Mike raised his chin on an instinct drilled into him by his father since he’d been old enough to meet their Packhead. The others did the same.

“Inspectors,” one of the new Ossys, boney with sunken green eyes, said calmly, chin tucked low and impressive antlers on full display.

“Clanhead Anta,” Uhaoe replied, “and I presume Clan Second Reivy?” The second made an affirmative noise. “We’ve brought you your chick, under Imperial Order.”

“For which we thank you,” the Clanhead said, throwing a look at Mike that almost made him want to brave the desert. She then glanced to her Second. “Reivy, if you would.”

“Of course, Clan Head.” Vares made an encouraging noise at his side as Reivy stepped forward and herded Mike further down the tunnel. There was no noise between them as they went, hearing Anta’s offer of the clan’s hospitality and the Inspectors’ polite acceptance echo and fade in the distance as they headed deeper. It was only when they were passed the dining cavern, Mike’s stomach gnawing at itself at the thought of food, that he opened his mouth.

“So,” he said, brushing off the Imperial he hadn’t had cause to use since his father’s funeral, “how long can I expect to be here?”

“That depends on you.” Stopping, Reivy turned a stern look that almost matched Anta’s on him.

“You will stay with the clan until you stop being a stain on our reputation,” they said. “You will not leave clan territory without the agreement of Clanhead Anta, myself, and Kereo Girem. Even then, you will not leave clan territory without at least one chaperone. You will do whatever chores are assigned to you, you will behave yourself, and if- if- it’s determined that you will no longer behave in such a shameful manner, then and only then will you be free to leave if you so wish. Understood?”

Mike’s hackles were straight on end. The tone, the look, and phrasing all rankled against his already battered pride. Muscle memory and instinct strained to strike back, mouth off, something clever and cutting that would give him some control. But. He was many things, stubborn, selfish, vain, but never had he been stupid. While he couldn’t help but glare, he still managed to flash his throat and get out a

“Yes, Clan Second.” This, it seemed, was enough for them, as Reivy turned back down the tunnel and motioned Mike to continue on with them.

“Come along then.”

The walk down into the depths of the den was several minutes, going directly passed the level of the workrooms and down into the residential level. Mike reached out and began letting his fingers trail over the mosaiced walls halfway down, something soothing in the texture alternately slipping and rasping under his touch. That Ossy blood maybe, built for this as it was for the indoors. As they turned off the main tunnel the mosaics become more eclectic, wild and random in form and imagery, until they stopped at the entrance to a den. There were sparse mosaics inside, mostly simple stone walls with veins of copper running through them. A cavity in one wall held a pair of stone chests, a large handful of stuffed leather mats were scattered about the floor, and one other Ossy sat inside, playing with one of the spiders. Someone his age probably, by the lack of antlers, with a darker hide, white spotting, yellow eyes, and a tufted tail.

Reivy gave a pleased huff.

“Crysie,” they said, as they eyed the pair of them, “our cousin’s arrived.”

“I can see that,” Crysie said, following quickly with “Clan Second” when a firm look was turned his way. “Should they be so small?” Mike, who had been trying not to notice that everybody he’d met so far had at least half a foot on him, quickly decided he hated him with every fiber of his being.

“By human standards I’m fairly tall,” he said, and Crysie very clearly did not believe. Reivy nudged him into the room with a hand against his back before he could tear a piece off the wall and throw it at him.

“From this point forward,” they said, “Michael is your responsibility. Help him settle in, and get him introduced to the rest.” Crysie sighed like this was far from a surprise and flashed his throat.

“Yes, Clan Second.” Looking him over for a moment, they were apparently content with that. Reivy turned their attention back to Mike.

“You’ll behave yourself,” they said, more an order, “and listen to the advice Crysie gives you. And you,” they turned back to him for a moment, “will not take advantage of that.”

Crysie sighed harder this time, tail flicking in annoyance. Mike huffed. But both gave their “Yes, Clan Second”, and so with another hard look at both of them, Reivy left to do whatever it was a Clan Second did when they’d been able to shove their job off on one of the chicks. Left to themselves, the pair sized each other up for several long minutes. Eventually, Crysie broke first, placing the spider on his shoulder as he stood and headed for the door.

“Alright, Michael-”

“Mike.” Crysie stopped, head tilting. Mike leveled a Look of his own at him, long tired of putting up with it. “Nobody calls me Michael.” Chuckling, Crysie flashed his teeth in a grin.

“I could call you Shorty, if you’d rather.” Oh fuck no.

“I could eat you, if you’d rather.”

“You can try.” Outright laughing now, Crysie slipped passed him into the tunnel. “Come on, may as well show you around the place.” With no real options, he was starving and eventually would need a bathroom, Mike followed after, glaring at his back.

This whole thing was going to be a nightmare, he could tell.

#fanfic #den arrest #michael morningstar and the horrible terrible no good very bad punishment for his crimes

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suprgamr66 · 23 days

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Writers comment: hey guys, this is the start of a part of infinitewatch chronicles that are just single stories to provide lore to infinitewatch. This particular story is about the finding of Titan.

Infinitewatch one shots: the Titan discovery

Six people are walking through a forest, as they walk they’re careful to make sure none of the plant life touches them. One man in red and gold armor turns to another and says, “Hey cap. Why did Thanos put us out here again?” Captain America turns to iron man and responds, “Hell if I know. All I know is he told me he needed to assemble some team to find something out here.” Hawkeye said, “I still think it’s ridiculous I only have a bow and arrow and we’re on a version of earth that was overtaken by a mountain sized titan.” Black widow responds, “At least they enhanced your arrows and your bow with infinitewatch technology. Not to mention your quiver is designed to make new arrows whenever it becomes empty.” Thor says, “midgaurdians have such interesting technology for it to be so easily enhanced. Such powerful weaponry.” Bruce banner says, “I think anything can be easily enhanced when infinity stones are brought into the equation. I think we should just find what we’re looking for and get back to home base.” Iron man responds, “Really? You’re a scientist and you don’t want to study a version of earth that’s basically been turned into an alien planet?” Bruce responds, “There’s a reason we avoid places like these.” Almost as if on cue, dragon things appeared from the sky and dive bombed iron man. Hawkeye shot an arrow at the one that grabbed iron man but the arrow bounced off. Captain America threw his shield and hit it in the head. It dropped iron man and he used his thrusters to stop his decent from killing him. Another one of the flying things flew straight towards iron man. But this time he was ready, he fired a dark purple beam from his hand and it vaporized the creature. He hovered back down to the ground before landing and Bruce asking, “I’m sorry, what the hell was that?!” Iron man responds, “me and rift were working on making modifications to my armor to allow it to use dark energy. It’s pretty powerful but we adapted the armor to wield it.” Captain America nodded while the others stood there, shocked. Captain America continued to walk forward and iron man followed. The others continued to stand there for a minute before following. They continue walking for a while before finding something else that appeared to have spawned from the Godzilla DNA. It was humanoid and saw one black widow. Suddenly, wings unfolded he lunged at her while flapping his wings to propel himself faster. He tackled her to the ground. He growled and iron man prepared to vaporize the humanoid thing. But captain america said, “Wait, I think this is what we’re looking for.” Iron man put his hand down and captain america threw his shield at the thing. Upon hitting the thing’s head it returned to his hand and the thing fell of black widow. He growled and opened his mouth. Blue flames shot from his mouth and captain America blocked it with his shield. Black widow swept its legs out from under it and pointed a gun at its head. He had some snarling laugh. Almost as if he was daring her to shoot. She shot the gun but the bullet just bounced off his head. Bruce said, “What the hell? How are we supposed to capture something like that?” It then lunged at Bruce the same way it lunged at black widow. But this time before captain America could react Bruce transformed into the hulk. He grabbed the creature and slammed it into the ground multiple times. He walked away saying, “Puny titan.” The creature layed on the ground unconscious. Hawkeye ran to it and tried to take its pulse before saying, “Where do I put my fingers again?” Black widow responds with, “Oh just move over.” She knocked him out of the way and black widow put her fingers to the thing’s neck and checked for a pulse. She sighed with relief and said, “it’s still alive. We don’t have to worry about getting in trouble for killing an asset. Thanos would’ve killed us for this one.” Hulk picks up the creature and iron man says, “Alright. I’ll contact rift and…” he was cut off as a mountain began to move. Hawkeye says, “A bow and arrow won’t do anything against that.”

Black widow looks at iron man and asks, “do you think you could vaporize that thing?” Iron man shakes his head and says, “It’s too big. I might be able to hurt it but even a blast from the arc reactor wouldn’t pack enough energy into it for vaporization.” Captain America then says, “Then get us the fuck out of here.” Iron man nods and uses his arc reactor to create a rift. Captain America says, “Wait, if you can make a rift can’t you just kill the giant monster?” Iron man shakes his head and says, “I’m focusing the energy on a single atom and it explodes. We wouldn’t be able to do that with a living organism without an explosion worse than a nuclear bomb if it would kill it. It would be all or nothing and in the all scenario all of us die.” Thor nods and says, “Then what are we waiting for! TO VALHALLA!” Iron man says, “No. not all of us are asgardian and will not go to Valhalla.” Thor says, “Fuck you.” They all walk through the rift and bring the creature into the rift room. Iron man says, “We need a containment unit for a powerful creature.” A soldier brings out a containment unit and hulk lays it down into the containment unit. Infinite walks out and says, “Hello creature. I think we’ll call you… Titan.”

#iron man #captain america #thor marvel #black widow #incredible hulk #hawkeye #godzilla #godzilla earth #infinitewatch #infinite

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phoenixradiant · 2 months

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Prologue: A Good Man

Hey guys! Figure for my first writing post I might as well just drop the prologue for my WIP. My feedback thus far has mostly been from people who know me IRL, so I am actually looking for critiques here. This is probably the largest single post I'm going to make. Enjoy!

Cellic son of Hjodyr felt the wind blow through his hair as he danced in the moonlight. It was a familiar dance, but one he had not danced in far too long. A dance of death. He stepped back abruptly as his foe’s blade passed within inches of him, his poorly fitted plate impeding him less than his own weakness. He raised his own sword up, feigning as if to bring it down. His opponent made to block him, but Cellic’s steel-encased fist caught him in the gut. He doubled over, but remained on his feet as he staggered back. Cellic’s blue and silver cape trailed behind him as he approached, overshadowing the bruised and broken man behind him.

“I’m surprised you’ve made it this long without being caught,” he said. “Stealing in your spare time? You’re lucky the guards are so busy. As it is, you've fallen to me.”

"You? Why should I be afraid of you? Look at you! You're scrawny under all that armor, and the pieces don't fit together, much less fit you. You're just fresh meat.” A grim smile crossed Cellic's face. Fresh meat, he thought wryly, more like rotten meat. Chewed up, broken, useless. Still better than this lout.

"You're a spy, Mirig. That means you're a traitor. I hate traitors. I can and will drag you through the streets kicking and screaming and lay you in the dust before my queen. We will question you. We will break you. And then we will send you to the gods and you will wish we hadn't.” Neither moved. The poor man behind Cellic stirred, and he turned his head. Mirig struck out at him. Just as planned. Cellic spun, dodging Mirig’s vertical strike and sweeping out horizontally. His foe ducked, putting his face right in position to receive a powerful kick. He drew back his foot, and…

The world spun. Cellic vaguely felt himself hit the ground. This mismatched armor he wore was the world's strangest cup, filled to the brim with blood. Delicious, abhorrent blood. The scars on his back burned. He heard screams. Weeping. He felt his right eye well up. His left eye blurrily registered Mirig standing over him, raising a blade of cold, deadly steel. I'm going to die. I’m going to die. He called on his Will, but it did not answer. He called on his Intent, but all it did was warn him of his impending demise. Finally, in desperation, he called on his Passion. It too abandoned him. Cellic jerked his head to the side, but the sword cut clean through half of his neck. For a few precious instants, blood spilled onto the cobbled streets, worn smooth by the passing of a thousand thousand feet. Mirig raised his blade to strike again. So much blood. He could hardly think. Blood… The sword swung down again, this time to finish the job. Blood… Once he could’ve healed these wounds almost effortlessly, but he was broken now. Blood… There was no escape for him; he wondered if it might be better this way. Death… Three faces flashed before his mind. And one voice spoke to his soul. He feared it, but in that moment, he made it his own. No.

His skin flashed red where it had been split by the sword, and when the light dissipated, his flesh was whole. Cellic brought his hand up and knocked Mirig’s blade aside. It plunged into the ground, sinking a hand’s length into the stone. His next movements were fluid, using his shin to batter Mirig’s knee and bring him to the ground, converting excess momentum into a spin that brought him to his feet. Charging forward, not wasting a second, he slammed his poleyn into the man’s face, unimpeded by the steel plate as it cracked and the leather strap holding it over his knee snapped. Leaping a man’s height into the air to avoid a flailing fist, Cellic landed gracefully, watching for a few seconds as the man’s face slowly shifted back into place.

“Telar taken! What are-” The man cut off as he saw Cellic’s face. His right eye was weeping tears of blood, which glowed in the night as they slowly rolled down his cheek. “What are you?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I used to be a good man.” Then he drew a knife, which glinted in the red light, and threw it into Mirig’s thigh. Stepping forward, Cellic twisted the knife, watching as the muscle and skin knit back together. He kept twisting until the mending stopped. He removed the blade, and in the dim light of his tears of blood, he saw the wound scab over immediately. Excellent, he thought, he won't die. I need to get him back to the fortress. He hesitated.

Kill him! A voice demanded. Cellic looked around him by instinct, but he knew the voice hadn’t really come from anywhere. Kill him! Spill his blood and bathe in it!

Repulsive, he thought, disgusting thing.

See! See! The voice shouted accusingly. Even in rejecting me you must embrace hatred!

I must do no such thing. The voice replied instantly. He hated how it always did that.

Then you choose? Even better!

Enough. I have work to be about. Cellic tossed Mirig over his shoulder.

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Jek’s head hurt. Had he been throwing rocks around again? This would make the third time he'd been inducted into the medical ward for letting his friends talk him into a prank. He figured it was about time he found companions who really valued the opportunity for learning they had been given. He felt a hand shaking him.

“Ugh. What is it?” Jek opened his eyes slowly. A silhouette knelt against the street lantern.

“Can you move?”

“Can I- What?” It was all coming back now. He’d been cornered in the street by a strange man asking for his apprentice token. “I- I think so.”

“Good. I’m going to take care of this valrak, you’d best get yourself off the street.” The figure stood up, and once the light shone on him, he seemed even stranger. His hair, almost golden but a shade too light, was matted with blood on his left side, and his youthful face was marred by a stream of the stuff that oozed down his right. His armor plates were mismatched horrendously- Jek wasn’t martially inclined, but even he could tell- and the cape that streamed from his shoulders gleamed iridescently with metallic thread. Nothing he wore indicated who or of what allegiance he was, at least not that Jek recognized. His eyes were sapphire blue, but he swore he saw a tint of red. He turned, and, carrying over one shoulder a limp body, began to walk away. Then a scream pierced the night. The strange man stopped. Then he swore. He threw the body to the ground, tossed a coil of rope to Jek, and commanded him

“Tie him up! I’ll be back in a moment, but Zix take me if I let him get away!” Then he ran into the darkness. Jek waited in silence. He had restrained the man, but it didn’t appear to be necessary; he had not stirred. An uncomfortably long time passed, and Jek was beginning to feel he might not be safe. Took you that long to come to that conclusion? He derided himself, And you call yourself intelligent! Just as he was standing up to leave, the strange man came back. He was limping, and his cape was gone. “You have my thanks for watching over him.” And then he vanished into the night.

Jek was curious. Some said it was his greatest virtue, others his greatest flaw. Nonetheless, he found it hard to resist. Staying near to the street lanterns, he moved in the general direction of the screams. He only departed from the light when he heard a soft whimpering, and saw the faint glow of a candle. Approaching, he saw a surgeon’s apprentice- Jek couldn’t remember his name but he was a friend of a friend at the academy- tending to the wounds of a young girl. Bodies were strewn around, the candlelight licking at their still forms, and blood stained the ground. The girl covered herself with a long piece of blue and silver cloth, now stained with as many teardrops as drops of blood. Jek looked back up the road to the fortress. Who was that man?

#fantasy #writeblr #writing #epic fantasy #current wip #wip #writing wip #kelovir

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alevon · 4 months

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How about I do a little, DEATH BATTLE, ehem, two characters will be going up against each other, whether evenly matched or not the whole point is to see who wins and why, to learn of what characters would do if they are ever forced to fight each other, this may not be a recurring thing but only time will tell, how about we begin eh?

Regulus VS Beiskur

This will be a bit of a long post, if you want the results just go to the bottom, anywho let's begin.

Regulus, a lizard from a planet called Fursa, was raised in an apocalyptic hellscape in an event called the grand monster war, where monsters out of the blue spawned to destroy and consume the planet in its entirety. Regulus during all this was just a child who recently lost his parents and lost his brother right at the start of the event, forced to adapt quickly to the deadly circumstances, Regulus grew exponentially in strength speed and reaction time throughout the great war, Regulus did have a few advantages that others didn't considering he was already training beforehand, alongside Regulus, was his trusty black diamond scythe that was capable of ripping through flesh and stone like it was water. Regulus learned how to fight with not only his body but mind as well as not all monsters that he encountered fought physically, but psychological as well. Regulus has been so fast capable of dodging lasers, bullets and even attacks predicted to hit! Regulus has trained heavily to protect those he cared about dearly and it showed in his combat and his utterly devastating determination just how far he would go just to protect. Unfortunately suffering his demise to a monster manifester who caught Regulus off guard, went for the lethal blow, finishing off such a caring serious and powerful reptilian

Beiskur, resurrected from the dead and the corpse of a cold steel body, made and crafted for pure destruction now is part of an army who protects, defends,and assists every living things. Part of the dirthelians, fighting against an army called the doom bots. Dirthelians are tasked to fight rigorous battles that will result in huge casualties, anyone could die the next day over, difference between dirthelians and doom bots though is that dirthelians fight to keep everyone alive. Beiskur has been tasked with several rough battles that ended in heavy dirthelian casualties. Beiskur has helped take down several threats, titans, neo bots, and even a species of killer aliens who made it their mission to destroy anything doom bot related. Beiskur has shown to have exceptional strength considering their still robot under their exterior, in exchange is quite a bit sluggish in movement. Beiskurs reaction time is fast but the mind is faster than the body for them. Despite that fact, Beiskur wears a thin layer of shield to protect them from lethal attacks, alongside their robot like armor helps defend their inner components, the robot armor being under their exterior. Beiskur has seen the end of the war with the doom bots, but will they see the end of this fight?

Additional details

Regulus has a height of 5'11, capable of lifting twice his weight, weighs 210 pounds, is cold blooded

Beiskur has a height of 12'7, can only lift 400 pounds,weighs 835 pounds, the dirt exterior is magical, but is still basically normal dirt

With all that out the way, it's time to have a small death battle shall we now, place your bets, prepare your hats, let's fight!

Regulus: and who might you be?

Beiskur: I'm Beiskur of course, here to defend, protect, and serve !

Regulus: I'm not playing none of your phycological games monster, your on.

Beiskur: physiological games? I think you have me confused fo-

Regulus swings his scythe, lunging it towards the dirthelian Beiskur. Beiskur attempts to block the attack with a rifle they were holding. Beiskur looks at the half split rifle and tosses it to the ground.

Beiskur: well I suppose I shoulda dropped that before we made our encounter, that's fine, I suppose I'll just have to subdue you for now

Beiskur throws a few punches as Regulus jumps back each time avoiding any contact. Regulus jumps upwards at one of the punches, landing on Beiskurs arm and running to their head as he digs the scythe past the energy shield Beiskur had and lodges into their body. Beiskur, as they yelp in pain, tries to grab regulus but he just jumps off, landing on the floor with his scythe still in hand.

Regulus: your too slow beast.

Beiskur: ok ok, I guess you've lost all hope in befriending me, that's ok, luckily I won't lose this fight.

Beiskur pulls out their sidearm pistols as they fire away at Regulus. Regulus effortlessly dodges the bullets, blocking others with his scythe as he slowly approaches Beiskur. As Beiskur starts to run out of ideas of how to win, Beiskur charged forward to grab regulus's scythe as Regulus jumps above their armand sliced it off. Beiskur shrieks in shock as Regulus proceeds to cut limb after limb eventually reaching Beiskurs head, then slice!

Results: -Regulus wins-

Regulus won! Why? Simply enough while Beiskur had a lot of strength, weight, and power against regulus, what they didn't have was speed, and speed was a crucial difference since Regulus held a weapon that could easily slice through Beiskur despite the armor of all kinds does Black diamond is one of the sharpest, strongest, hardest, and toughest minerals around, originally thought to only be strong enough to cut through stone, it is capable of cutting through all kinds of minerals with enough force which regulus had plenty of, alongside, Beiskur didn't really have anything that could take down regulus, consider he's much faster and smaller, Beiskur is more used to fighting enemies their size, but regulus was simply not that, yet more than that.

Well uh, hope y'all enjoyed if you, finished reading all of this, um yeah that's all

#traditional art #my oc #writing #art #Doom Bots #fursa #Regulus #Beiskur #FTTD

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